Hello from the Chatterjees of Madurdaha. We are on the left side of the EM Bypass, going from the Ruby rotary towards Garia and one bus stop before Metro Cash & Carry.

We have been living here since 2009. In these six years, we've had a proper tar road leading up to our house for just about eight months, in the third year. For the rest of the time we've hopped and skipped over or tripped and bumped into rubble that passes for a road. And we've lived in fear of the monsoon.

When the rubble turns to slush before sinking under stinking water for three whole months. When the snakes come out to play. When life, as we know it for the rest of the year, changes beyond recognition. This year, as if all of the above weren't enough, the Bypass itself has decided to become one unending stretch of craters. So, to add to our sinking feeling at home is the bone-rattling reality of stepping out.

Here's how life has changed for each one of us this monsoon.

Father Chatterjee

I leave the house at 9am, come rain or shine, and reach my workplace in Kidderpore by 9.50am. Today, I left at exactly the same time but when it was 9.50am, I was still on the Bypass and yet to reach the Bypass-Anwar Shah connector crossing (which normally takes less than five minutes from home). The traffic condition has gone from bad to worse this monsoon thanks to the deplorable condition of the roads, so now commuting takes at least 45 minutes extra each way.

I am 63, and on my off days I like to sit back with the newspaper, relax and have a cup of tea but on holidays now I usually find myself in my shorts outside my home, directing the trucks carrying rubble we've paid thousands of rupees for where to dump it so that our cars don't sink in the sludge and my daughter can leave or enter the house on foot.

Or I am busy rallying people in the apartments around us to contribute to the rubble fund. We've tried to meet the councillor but he hasn't been able to come down to our area and have a look yet. We've written letters, which have been received but never actioned.

All I wish for is a proper road and drainage system leading to our house. Is it too much for a tax-paying citizen to wish for?

Mother Chatterjee

I leave the house before anyone is up as I teach in a morning school. Since I am the first one to climb down the stairs to the dark garage every morning, I am always scared that I will disturb a sleeping snake and get bitten.

Bleach and carbolic acid have become the most important household items on my weekly grocery shopping list. Living off what was supposed to be the new Chowringhee, in Calcutta 2015.

I have encountered snakes in the garage, on the first floor landing right outside our door and one sliding along the ledge of the window in my mother's bedroom, after which we keep the windows shut as far as possible.

Thankfully I only use the car and don't have to walk to and from the house because the non-existent roads in front of my house are not something I can risk with my knee problems. Also, I wouldn't want to step into water that has been standing there since May. Every time it rains the water gets churned and the stink is unbelievable. I have stopped inviting people over because it is just too embarrassing to ask them to wade through dirty water.

Daughter Chatterjee

This monsoon, I leave office earlier than usual... for my dad. No, no it's not that he minds his journalist daughter working late. It's just that I need to be home before he goes to sleep because I don't have the heart to wake him up for his nightly chore - taking out the car and picking me up from the end of our lane. It's just a minute's walk but at night I just cannot wade through that water that stinks and is infested with snakes.

The lane in front of my house can be approached from two ends. Last year one side would be under water throughout the monsoon and beyond, but the other only when it rained very heavily. This year the entire stretch is under water every day.

In the morning, I either have to leave with my father at 9am (I start work at 1.30pm) or wait for my mother to come back home from school. On days the traffic on the battered Bypass delays my mother, I walk out or rather hop out of home - from brick to brick or whatever is solid enough to avoid touching the filthy water. But two days on the trot I missed a brick and landed in the water and on the third I twisted an ankle. So now, I just wait for my mother to return home and for the car to reach me to the Bypass.

I know you'll laugh when you see me land up in office dressed like a Dickensian urchin even on days it hasn't rained a drop, but you must see it - where I come from, that is - to believe it. But make sure you come during the day because even if you get past the craters on the Bypass, you'll never brave our waterlogged lane as it doesn't even have street lamps to show you the way at night.

Doggy Chatterjee

I am not taken out for walks anymore. The last time I went out, I came back with stinky paws and all kinds of things stuck to them. I wish mom would stop crying on the phone every time it rains. I wish she would let me lick her feet when she comes home instead of yelling "NO" and rushing into the bathroom to wash her feet. I just wish the rain would stop and the water would disappear.

Woof!

Do you live on/off the Bypass? Share your monsoon '15 blues at ttmetro@abpmail.com