I have to write my assignments. I have to write stories for my next project. I have my taxes to do. But I cannot. I am focused on the floods back home where my aged parents are stranded in their second floor apartment with no contact.

Read a latest report from the BBC

It is not fair to blame the monsoon rains. Yes it has been terrifyingly the biggest ever. What Chennai received in one night is twice it usually receives in the month of December. I remember most of our Diwali celebrations and our Karthigai celebrations in November were often dampened by the pitter-patter of a toddler of rain. We always complained that our city is starved of rain. But this year it is an absolutely crazy beast. It was as if decades of cries from the people demanding rain reached this monster far away in a deep slumber and it awoke to bless us with decades of rain in a single month.

Find out why many experts believe this is not a natural disaster, but a failure of the administrators and town planners.

It is not fair to blame global warming either. Maybe some will say it is global warming and India should not be resisting preventative measures.

In a NDTV report, "We are now experiencing the full blown impacts of climate change. The extreme rainfalls that Chennai is experiencing is a direct outcome of our ever warming planet," said Chandra Bhushan, Deputy Director General of Delhi-based Centre for Science and Environment (CSE).

Nature has her own mind. We live in her mercy and often the line between the benevolent rain that nourishes our land and fills our dams before the blazing summers arrive and this vengeful force of wind and storm that hit the coast and the inland is very thin. All we can do is prepare for it. If we want to co-exist with nature, we need to listen to her, watch her curves and indents. Unfortunately we have plundered the city, cut down the mangroves and built up every inch of the city.

I blame myself. Should I be here in London – inside a centrally-heated flat, going to work and university as if nothing is wrong, carrying on with life so far away from the disaster that has struck my city, my family and friends? Shouldn’t I be with them? Have I deserted them for the charm of the first-world life? These questions arise inside every expat son or daughter in such situations. We desperately want to get in touch, hear our family’s voices, want to know that they are just inconvenienced and not terrified. Is that enough? Is that single phone call sufficient to keep my conscience from tearing my mind into pieces?

But if there is one entity that should accept blame, it should be the administration. Generally across India, the infrastructure is appalling. I travel a lot and visit many other countries similar to India who are growing at 5-6% per annum and those that are still developing – and one thing I find is the stark neglect of infrastructure in India. There is no visible town planning.

BBC examines why Chennai is flooded.

If you know someone who knows someone, then you can buy the land and develop it and sell it – whether or not those houses have drainage or water facilities, whether it is in a low-lying area or near a dam or a lake. No one cares, checks or questions these developments, including the newly rich and affluent who want to showcase their wealth.

Chennai newspaper The Indian Express asserts that the town planners have failed in Chennai.

In the 21^st century, in a city that is experiencing economic boom due to its car-parts industry (India’s Detroit, they call it) and its computer-services industry – we do not have drainage systems that drive the water into the ocean which is less than 20 kilometres away. Every small rain the drains open up mixing sewage with rain water. Now in this torrential downpour, you are guaranteed to get garbage and sewage from neighbourhoods far away from you as the rivers flow into the streets. Telephone, Water, milk, food, electricity, cooking gas, petrol, diesel – every service has been disrupted.

When the sun comes out, and the water recedes, when the streets dry out, the power supply is restored – the Chennai people who are being praised for their courage and chin-up attitudes should stop being so courageous and think about what they want for their city.

As flood waters recede, the thoughts should return to how we can prevent this from happening again.

Fortitude to live through any calamity is not always a virtue. While the crisis is ongoing, perhaps there is no other alternative, than to roll up your sleeves and your sari and lungi and get into the water and wade through slush. But when this water recedes, when the sun returns to expose the dead animals under the water, the potholes on the roads that have been eroded by a month of rain – Chennai folks must stop being calm and content with what they have got.

Last year the Guardian examined whether Chennai is on top of its town planning, Perhaps its hopes are now dashed.

You need town planning. You cannot build a house wherever you want. You have to build a drainage system. Instead of taking ten years to build a flyover that has absolutely no purpose, take the next ten years to build a better drainage system. Build embankments and create flood prevention. Stop cutting down trees, plant more.

Demand from your governments that the Rs. 1000 crores  and that has been doubled, given as aid is not just a publicity stunt. But don’t let them stop at giving Rs. 100 to a slum person in front of the cameras. Demand that they fix the city.

I wonder if I have the right to talk about this. I wonder if it is right to point fingers from the west? I was born in Chennai, I grew up in Chennai and I still have roots in Chennai. You can take me out of Chennai, but not Chennai out of me. Madras and Chennai, it is still home.

I also have the perspective of the outsider. I can see it more clearly now because I don’t live there. When I lived there, I was a chin-up Chennai-ite too. I would grumble about the roads and the traffic and the pollution, but I went about with my life. But now that I’m here and I only visit once or twice a year, I can see how over the last 15 years, things have gotten worse and not better.

I have travelled more now. I have seen more of other developing countries. I know this is not normal. Chennai is an old soul. It is traditional, it has no international ambitions of becoming a tourist spot. It does not take advantage of its beautiful beaches because it does not want people in swim costumes to parade on its soft white sands. I get that. But that does not mean you cannot modernize your infrastructure.

In her book The Politics of Heritage from Madras to Chennai, Mary E. Hancock (2008,35) talks about how Chennai has lacked town planning even under the British Raj and that has continues to be the same today. "Like other colonial cities, it was seen as a victim of the lack of systematic planning...Though the Madras Corporation had been charged with municipal administration since 1688 it has never functioned as a planning agency."

Moving from colonial times to independent rule, Hancock (2008,45) notes, "Broad patterns of land use in Chennai has followed colonial precedents...". She goes on to add (2008,50), "The metropolitan area's rapid development, therefore, has continued without explicit or approved planning guidelines, under the stimulus of an increasingly speculative real estate market."

I remember when I was 19 or 20. My dream was to become an IAS officer – an officer in the Indian Administrative service. The exams were tough and I was juggling a job and a masters degree and didn’t study sufficiently hard enough. But when I entered into the computer industry, I realized what a blessing that was. In the 90s, Indian computer industry was booming. I was one of the last people to desert the Chennai ship and move away from home. I had other reasons too. But I did leave. I have found no courage in me to return yet.

The congested roads deter me. The pollution literally makes me ill. I cannot handle the sound of the blaring horns anymore. I cannot handle the power-cuts.

I am not afraid of hot summers or the humid weather or this battering rain. I am afraid of what we have created as a city – the man-made structures painted in fluorescent colours due to astrological predictions. I am definitely afraid of not having a park to go to, beautiful museums to visit and more importantly almost no bookshops. I am afraid to move back to a city that has been starved of culture and infrastructure.

This master plan tells me by 2026, there is hope. Can we engage as a city, would the citizens get involved and demand that their city is transformed?

So Chennai – stand up and demand better infrastructure, better facilities. Don’t adjust and move on. Demand that this masterplan is implemented. Don’t be in a rush to get somewhere without planning for it – you’d only be stuck in a gridlock.