I was here as a child, when Divine Retreat Centre had a massive fire in the 90s. And now I have survived the flooding here too! This is an account of all that we went through at the highest building in DRC’s English section - barely 50 metres from the Chalakudy river in August - when, what seemed like a normal week turned out to be a life threatening one...

On the morning of August 15, it was like any other day. We marked Independence Day but did not send our son down to play as it was raining heavily by afternoon. We kept running to the balcony to see how much the river had risen. The first real warning came from long-term DRC housekeeper Alphonsa who called me to say that her village was out of power and pitch dark. She said a fireman had led her into her house in waist-deep water. I checked the news, read updates, and worked on the website that I edit and slept late.

The horror began on August 16. Neighbours said water had entered the compound and she was fleeing with family. A look through the 10th storey window, and I saw that water had covered our ground. There was no power. Within minutes, people from all houses on the campus - around 25 families in total - occupied various floors of our 11-storey building. There were requests to post our plight on the media. FB seemed to be the best option and I posted an alert.

It was rains and more rain all the way. A temple across the river looks like it has sunk.

August 17, the third day, turned out to tbe the most eventful. I met Sr Merlit and we were concerned about our tanks drying up. We removed the sheet on top of the tanks so that rainwater would fill it up.

The enterprising nun gets kids to bring pots and pans from their homes and we harvest rainwater. There was panic as people said the building may collapse into the river soon. My assertion that it is strong and will stand was seconded by little Abhaya.

We saw helicopters flying by. The children make a HELP board for the choppers to see.

Finally, we get some water and food delivered.

We finally get a second chopper late afternoon - we sign for more food, they say no. We ask for water, they say no with helpless faces. We wave bye. People are worried about a newborn, an elderly doctor recuperating from surgery, and a pregnant woman in our building. 

The children play board games and pretend all is normal. Adults do mental 'food math,' fiddle with dead phones and run upstairs to see if any more food is coming. No dinner but plenty of worship.

Someone said they got a message that our flat was not visible from above. We quickly got two red saris and tied them on our balcony railing. People cooked and ate together and we girls joked about going to the terrace with soap for a natural rainwater bath at night.

We finally direct a raft using whistle and signs to the elders in the houses below. Most touched by our kids crying out to the rescuers, “Chetta, don’t help us, we are ok. Help them." They are finally rescued and 'whoops' go up. 

Finally, we can see the dry highway far away and the temple across seems to be ok! No more cries. People venture out to see what their homes look like. Families begin to leave. Some try to walk through the muck, to the highway. Some of us have no way to inform relatives. We chose to stay positive and take all our remaining supplies to the building called Hermon which had no food at all.

To think that I was at first concerned about the food in my freezer getting spoilt! Major life lesson - it’s in giving that we receive. I felt almost guilty because I lost nothing. Just a bit of my sanity for a couple of days, may be.