Nothing else could be seen in the heavy rainfall, just some "private cars" rushing to their respective destinations. It had been pouring heavily since morning and I was quite sure there would be no usual vehicle for me to ride home. Panic-stricken, I started to walk to see if there was any other type of transport. In the meantime I got wet and was continuing to get wetter even though I had the umbrella. The raindrops fell diagonally and I could barely save my head from getting drenched.

"Come on! Come on!" someone shouted.

It was a Rider; a four-wheeler to carry 10 to 15 passengers most of whom were scanty-wage people like myself and it was the helper who was trying to attract the attention of the passengers. I thanked my lucky stars and hopped in. It was so jam-packed that I almost felt sick when I got inside. The heat of the engine mixed with the body heat of so many people in a small cubicle made the inside of the vehicle almost unbearably hot. I felt nauseous as I sat down squashed between two elderly people as it continued to rain. The people inside the rider were talking amongst themselves:

"Allah's wrath is pouring on us. We were boiling for the last two weeks and look at it today, it's raining as though the sky is going to fall on us."

"What can you expect with the things that's going on in the country!"

Someone else was saying something else which I couldn't be bothered to pay attention to as I was too caught up with my own thoughts. Had I shut the window this morning before I left? Couldn't recall doing so. Oh my God! Some of my books were scattered on the bed--with this kind of heavy pour it was bound to get drenched. When the vehicle stopped with a jerk I came back to my immediate plight: this was as far as the automobile went. I could understand the reason as soon as I got out; the lane on which my house was located was flooded completely. The whole area looked like a river, with buildings sprouting from its bed. There was a strange, unfamiliar smell that struck my nostrils as I tried to approach my house on foot. The water was above my ankle at the mouth of the road. As I approached further the water level increased gradually. It was above my knee. My trousers made my legs feel heavy and it became more difficult to walk and I suspected that I might fall into a hole. There was an empty rickshaw coming from the opposite direction giving out ripples all around me. I asked him if he could take me to the end of the lane; he said I'd have to pay him 15 taka. 15 taka! While 5 taka was more than enough on a usual day. Near to tears I agreed as I didn't want to waste any more time to see what awaited me at home. By now I was completely drenched--kakbheja as they would say in Bangla. And parts of my body exposed to the road water started itching.

I lived in a house with a family of four and it was a three-storied building on the road. Ours was the ground floor. It was my third year with them and I had become a family member. My real family lived in Khulna and before I stayed with these people I had stayed in the university hall devoid of all support a regular family life provided, so I was quite happy to get all that I missed in exchange of a portion of my salary. The best person in the house was five-year-old Rumki, who was simply adorable. Even her mother couldn't take her away from my bed and on most nights she liked to sleep with me. Apart from Rumki's parents there was Rumki's grandma who was an elderly person and stayed in the adjacent room to mine. It was also the family's living room.

As my rickshaw approached my house I could feel that the day-long rain had left us waterlogged. I went inside quickly and unlocked my room.

It was already dark and I put the light on.

The whole bed was soaked on the window side. The red-and-black striped curtain was reduced to a black piece of cloth stuck to the window pane. The water that had trickled down the wall was spreading on the ground.

"Auntie, see how hard it's raining today?" Rumki ran to my room with her usual shout. She had a pretty face with a flat nose and a bob. She was so thin that she looked even younger than her age.

Hurriedly I removed my books and rubbed them with an even wetter scarf of mine.

"Oh Auntie, you are all wet!! Can I get wet too?"

"No, you can't, you will catch a cold my dear!" I tried to explain.

Quickly I took a shower and got changed. In the meantime the rain continued. And as it got darker the water level also started rising. Slowly but surely. Our grandma ran around with one of Rumki's rulers with which she was measuring how high the water was rising. We were scared that the house might get flooded if the rain doesn't stop sometime soon

It didn't stop.

We cursed each car that passed through the road as it left huge waves which came over the verandah and almost came inside our main door. We took turns checking how far it was before we were flooded. And finally at around nine at night, when we were getting ready for our dinner, the water started to seep through our main door with the smooth fluidity of a snake. The waste water pipes gave out water in the opposite direction both in the kitchen and the bathrooms. In a matter of minutes the small house was overflowing with pitch dark, filthy water.

Grandma shouted "Oh dear God! What are we going to do? The water with all the filth in the world is getting in my house! What sin have I committed to deserve this?"

Rumki's mother and I frantically ran around to put away the carpets and electric wires of the television and radio. Everything had to be piled on the dining table, the chest of drawers and even the television stand. I suddenly remembered to take the clothes away from the bottom rack of the almirah as the water might get inside soon.

"Bhabhi (addressing Rumki's mother), we should remove all the clothes from the lower shelf otherwise they will get wet "

Promptly we went to our respective rooms to clear our bottom shelf. The water rose inch by inch and we just watched. It's unimaginable for anyone to feel what we felt that night if they had never been in a similar situation. We were estranged. It was as though we were living on an island where no ship was ever going to come to rescue us. I had heard or seen news clips on television of villages getting flooded in the rainy season but never had the experience. I lived in a place in Khulna where it never floods due to the Sundarbans which protects us. Even my grandfather couldn't ever recall seeing that area flooded.

Everyone but Rumki looked as though they had lost the most valuable thing they owned. The drain water mixed with rainwater along with all the dirt of the road seemed to have invaded our private sanctuary; it had violated our innermost dignity. Life seemed meaningless now. All our furniture was immersed in a foot of water and I could almost see germs crawling along the body of all of them.

"Don't throw it!" I heard Rumki's mother shouting.

Splash! Splash!

I came out to see what was happening. Rumki was throwing things into the water. And as the water splashed she clapped her little hands. It was like a game to her.

Rumki's mother was desperately trying to prevent her from throwing things but she screamed and kicked her legs in the air as her mother tried to take her in her arms. I intervened and took her to my room and as I put her down on my bed she sat there quietly for a split of a second. As soon as I turned my eyes from her she threw my comb in the filthy water. I gave her a stern look.

As Rumki's father returned home he was flabbergasted seeing the condition of the house. He asked if Rumki should be sent away to her maternal grandma's house for the night. He worked in a private company so usually he always came home at different times but it was inevitably after dusk.

"No, I don't want to go" screamed Rumki

"But this place is like a river. Where will you sleep, Rumki? Your grandma will have chocolates for you. You can play with your Auntie, no one will say anything to you."

But the little person was very determined that she'd stay back.

I felt sad as I looked through the two-bedroom house; it looked a mess. All the wooden sofas were on top of one another. The kitchen utensils were all stacked on the dining table. We all forgot about dinner. I tried to look back and think whether I had ever felt this kind of distress or discomfort in my entire life. My memory failed me. But like the saying goes, the show must go on. I thought of our forgotten dinner and declared: " Let's get ourselves to eat something. Surely we can't starve!"

So it was decided that we would eat in turns. Rumki was fed by her mother and Grandma and Rumki's father took the plates on their hands and ate the rice and fish with dal. They both had to go to different rooms so that they could sit on their beds.

As they finished eating Rumki's mother and I took our turn. Although I felt inexplicably famished I couldn't get myself to eat. I felt pukie-sh and smelt the foul water in everything.

The colour of the water was absolutely black. God knows how many types of germs are there, I thought, as I walked around the house barefoot.

Grandma decided she needed to use the toilet.

But there was no toilet. Everything was under one foot of water. As I peeped inside the toilet I felt disgusted. The water had mixed with the latrine water as well.

"I am desperate!" she whispered to me.

I called Rumki's mother and asked for some advice. At that moment I felt so helpless that tears started rolling down my face. I just felt that everything was meaningless. The world became a very hostile place to live in. As I looked at Rumki's mother I could sense the feeling of helplessness within her too.

It was as though we were the unwanted inhabitants of mother earth. I looked around myself. All I could see was the water--water which had given me the feeling of disgust, irritation and loss of pride. I lifted my mattress where I saved the few plastic bags from buying little accessories from here and there. I withdrew one and asked Grandma if she could use it as her toilet. I suggested that she should sit at the edge of the bed and use the plastic bag. We shut the door behind us.

The rain became thinner eventually early in the morning and we did get to clean the house the next day. After the water subsided we got bleaching powder and Savlon to clean the premises. Life, for us, went back to its normal chores, but the night's onrush left a deep imprint--evoking fear for the rest of our lives.

Jackie Kabir lives and works in the UK.