India, June 8 -- As June rolls in, Chandigarh puts on its best poker face-pretending it's entirely ready for the monsoon. On paper, it should be. With its celebrated grid plan, wide roads and storm water drainage neatly woven into the sectoral fabric, the city gives the illusion of calm readiness. But the first heavy downpour usually wipes that smug look off its face. Beneath the surface of its modernist legacy lies a pressing question: is Chandigarh actually prepared for the rains, or has it grown complacent? This isn't just about infrastructure-it's about attitude, upkeep and the uneasy gap between intention and reality. Water logging at key intersections-ISBT-17, Sector-22 market, and the roundabouts of Madhya Marg-turns the city's self-image from "modernist marvel" to "marooned maze" within minutes. Drains overflow not necessarily because they were poorly designed, but because they've been poorly maintained. Silting, encroachments and the city's growing love for concrete over garden beds have throttled the system. This isn't a failure of vision-it's a failure of vigilance. The question isn't whether Chandigarh was planned well, but whether it's being cared for with the same rigour. Monsoon-readiness isn't a checklist ticked in May; it's a mindset cultivated all year round. And the city, for all its beauty, seems to suffer from selective memory. Chandigarh's lush green character-so often its pride-becomes a bit of a drama queen during the monsoon. Trees, weighed down by age and rainfall, frequently fall across roads, short-circuit wires or block vital routes. In theory, deep-rooted species like neem and jamun should hold strong. In practice, shallow rooting caused by paving and compacted soil leaves them unstable. Parks, meant to be natural sponges, are often so manicured and over-tiled that they shed water instead of soaking it. Green belts, once porous, have lost their permeability to decorative hardscaping. Rainwater, with nowhere to go, spills onto roads, pools around markets and tests the patience (and footwear) of every pedestrian. What's needed is a gentler hand and a bit more ecological wisdom. Let the trees breathe. Let the soil soak. A little less ornamental obsession and a little more ground-level humility would go a long way. Basement flooding is now a monsoon staple across residential and commercial properties. In an era of rainwater harvesting talk and climate-conscious headlines, many buildings still treat water as an afterthought. Even newer constructions often lack proper gradient design, storm water pits, or overflow plans. The irony? Chandigarh has the bones of a city that should handle the rain. The slope from the Shivaliks, the rational layout, and wide road reserves all work in its favour. But ad hoc surface treatments, clogged inlets and cosmetic development have skewed the intent. Instead of battling the rain, the built environment can learn to work with it-using bioswales, rain gardens, and permeable pavements that aren't just sustainable buzzwords, but practical solutions. The monsoon is not a surprise. It's annual. And it deserves annual planning. Smart design isn't just about forms and facades-it's about function, flow and flexibility. Water doesn't read blueprints, but it certainly exposes their faults. Chandigarh isn't sinking-it's sulking. The city's design offers it every chance to handle monsoon gracefully, but its maintenance habits lag behind. The solution isn't flashy infrastructure or radical redesign. It's attention, alignment and seasonal discipline. Here's hoping this year the water finds its way into the soil and not our shoes. And that Chandigarh, like any well-planned host, tidies up before the guests arrive-not while they're ringing the bell. Because when the clouds gather, the city's real personality always comes out-with or without an umbrella....