When the road turned into a river: A lesson in Mindfulness

A sudden flood turned Mudit Shukla’s routine drive home into a moment of crisis. Drawing on mindfulness practices he learned through Brown University’s School of Professional Studies, he found himself at a crossroads between fear and focus. In that moment, he discovered the true power of a mindful pause.

When the road became a river

On the evening of September 1, what began as a routine drive home from work in Gurgaon, India turned into one of the most frightening episodes of Mudit Shukla’s life. 

That afternoon, heavy monsoon clouds hung low over Gurgaon. Hoping to avoid the worst of the weather, he left work early and approached the busy intersection at Hero Honda Chowk — an infamous spot in the area for waterlogging during monsoons — he had no idea that the road ahead would soon resemble a river.

Minutes later, the situation changed. Torrential rain poured from the overpass, transforming the road into a river. By 6 p.m., water had risen above the doors of his car. Panic surged as he saw a larger SUV ahead begin to float.

“I was ready to abandon the car,” he recalled. Around him, auto-rickshaws tipped sideways, horns blared underwater and stranded vehicles blocked the path forward.

The power of a pause

At that moment, a practice he had been cultivating for months came into play — one he learned in the Foundations course, part of Brown University’s School of Professional Studies mindfulness training.

“Something inside reminded me to pause — to breathe and look again,” Shukla shared.

That pause revealed a different picture: an older man calmly pushing a bicycle through chest-high water, two strangers wading to help move cars aside and his own vehicle still steady on the road. Naming his fear — not of drowning, but of losing the car — made it shrink.

When he called out for advice, bystanders shouted encouragement: “Keep moving,” “U-turn ahead,” “The water's shallow.” Their reassurance became his anchor. With steady focus, he pressed the accelerator and steered through.

A lesson in awareness

A few kilometers later, on dry ground, the reality of the experience set in. Legs trembling but safe, he reflected on what had made the difference.

For him, it was mindfulness. Not the image of meditation cushions or mantras, but the everyday practice of awareness, acceptance and kindness. In the chaos of a flood, it gave him a pause long enough to see clearly and choose his response.

“ Mindfulness doesn’t stop the rain or the floods,” he said. “But it gives you space — the clarity to breathe, assess and act. And on that day, I believe that pause saved me. ”

Beyond the flood

Shukla’s experience underscores how mindfulness extends far beyond calm moments or controlled environments. In the rush of city life — and even in life-threatening situations — the ability to pause can mean the difference between fear and focus, reaction and response.

A moment to stop.
A moment to see clearly.
A moment to choose.

And sometimes, that pause can save you.