26/11 revisited

26.11.08. Around 9 pm. Me. Lolling around my house. Thinking whether to order a pizza or eat the oily veggies the maid has cooked. Frantic call from SA. Gang war has broken out in town (South Mumbai). Me.Thinking. Whatever..SA gets easily excited..must be in Nagpada or Dongri or some such ghetto populated with the Mumbai Mafioso. Still wondering what to eat. Call from parents. Switch on the TV. Lound bangs, people running, blood, police, hysteria. Alarm bells ringing dangerously loud in my head. The scenes on the television become a blur. SA and I huddle together and the realization of the enormity of the situation dawned on me…one of the most audacious terrorist acts ever witnessed in the history of the world was unfolding in front of our tear filled eyes. CST, Leopold (apna leos!!!), Taj, Trident, Cama Hospital, Nariman House all being plundered and bloodied by 10 armed Laskar-e-Taiba men who in an hours time took the term “terrorism” to a different level all together. For the next 70 hours the whole of Mumbai (and I am presuming the rest of India) sat glued to their television screens watching the longest LIVE battle being fought between our forces and those brainwashed-twisted-in the-heads-motherfuckers! (Don’t expect an apology for the colorful language.)

The aftermath was oodles and oodles of angst, television debates (remember the one in which the Simi Garewal proved her “bimbette” status on national television when she commented on the “Pakistani” flags, which "She" could see in a slum from a suburban restaurant.” I rolled my eyes so hard at that one that my eyeballs totally disappeared into my head! ), talk about peace marches, frustration, renewed sense of patriotism, renewed hatred for everything “Pakistani” and so forth and so on.

I remember going for the peace march after a week of the attacks. I had to leave early from my office. My boss, who knew the reason why I wanted to leave early, and totally sympathized with my unchanelled angst, told me that if anyone in office asks, I should say that I am going to meet a doctor! I wanted to kill every such insensitive “anyone” in the office who did not think that joining a peace march to show solidarity towards the cause of avenging the hideous terrorist attacks, was reason enough to leave office by 6 pm!! And most of the people who I asked to join me for the march, came up with “Oh I would love to, BUT…”, “That’s great! You MUST go, I would come too, BUT…”. I just COULD NOT understand the reasons of the BUTS. Was this not the time to leave everything, and I mean everything, aside and join the common cause. I kept my fear of traveling on the local train (“No local train no matter what” has been my mantra since the July 2007 attacks) aside that day (don’t smirk, I know it was not a huge sacrifice, but you have no idea how shaken up I was after the local train blast…but thats for another post another time) and boarded the fast local from Bandra to Church Gate. I was to meet a friend at Churchgate. When I got at Churchgate, I was overwhelmed with the mass hysteria at the station, there were thousands and thousands of people, already sloganeering, placards held high, marching ahead with such firmness in step and determination on the face, that my eyes welled up with tears (again!). I didn’t know the way from the station to Gateway of India, but there was no reason to worry. The entire mass of human bodies that night was moving in perfect sync in the same direction. Somehow I united with my friend and her friend along the march. Till date, it is not possible for me to explain the feeling that washed over me that night. Being part of such raw energy, shaking hands with the unassuming NSG commandos on the way and thanking them for being there for us, lighting a candle in front of Taj, my eyes are filling up again while I type this. I felt my stomach knot up, all our eyes shone the brightest of bright, everyone smiled at everyone else and I thought…this is it! This is when my country will stop being ho-hum and will have a new generation of competent, vociferous, righteous, young blooded leaders who will lead my nation right to the top of the world, away from terrorism, poverty, and all other vices that are sucking off the blood like leeches from my country.

But that was a year ago. Within a month all the angst and rage mellowed down and then disappeared. We were swiftly caught again in the whirlwind of jobs, parties, movies, friends and things which REALLY matter. Now on the 1st year anniversary of that event, the tamasha is on full-swing for the day. The politicians sending out their condolences to the bereaved, promising a new tomorrow, asserting that Pakistan will certainly taken to task. In May this year, the bastard’s (Qasab) trial began. My blood boils just thinking of how much of my tax money is being used up to provide “justice” to that low life piece of scum! What is with the farce of this trial, when there is overwhelming evidence and the fact is proven beyond doubt. That guy should have headed for the capital within a month of his capture.

Yesterday we were at dinner with some foreign counsels. And to fill up a lull in the conversation, I mentioned how today will be the first anniversary of those attacks. While my Indian colleagues all agitated and incensed at the reminder, started cursing the terrorists, the government etc. etc. this Brit guy suddenly asked “Does anyone wants dessert?”. I was incredulous but could do nothing but smile politely at him. The guy had the cheek to say further “I just wanted to change the topic”. In my head I went “WHHHAAAATTTT!!! UP YOURS!!” Outwardly, again I smiled sympathetically at him as if I perfectly understood how traumatic it must be for him to be a part of this ghastly “conversation”!! argghhhhhh…

Anyways…I am not sure what I started writing and where have I ended but I am having these mood swings since today morning and tears have sprung up in my eyes for no reason at all and I am feeling unnecessarily overwhelmed, so I thought the best would be to get it out here.

Thanks for reading through and as one of the RJ’s on FM said in the morning “Loosing my Religion” is a pre-requisite to bring peace in this bloodied world. Hail to REM and may peace be!

Season's Greetings

Wishing everyone a very prosperous AND a very belated happy deepawali. I had gone to my parents’ for diwali and what fun it was! All my siblings (well almost all except my sister and brother-in-law) would gather around at midnight and play cards till wee hours of the night in between chai, bhel poori, paan and cashew nuts. It was a blast. Also, I saw Blue and no, I won’t provide my point of view here since I assume that the infamy of that movie has now reached far and wide by now. I mean, WHAT WERE THEY THINKING! And Sanjay Dutt should just absolutely retire.
Anyway, the reason of the lapse in updating this blog is that when I wrote the last time, the power of my laptop went out just before I was to click “Submit”. That really put me off and it took a lot of perseverance from my side to put aside the traumatic incident and start typing again. I know, I know…these are the highlights of my life!
Also back home, something very funny happened. There is this family astrologer who had come over to my cousins’ on bhai dooj. Now he had been sitting there for hours, yapping away to glory for the benefit of anyone who would care to listen. Everyone (by turn) had to go and entertain him so he would not feel neglected. When it was my parents’ turn, inevitably my mother popped THE question – “When will this one get married?” pointing an accusing finger towards me. The panditji (finally happy that someone was desperately eager to reap the benefits of his knowledge) asked my parents my date of birth. My father told him the date and month, but when it came to the year he stuttered “19…? Umm 198…umm?” and then blankly looked at my mother, who equally blankly returned his stare. Finally, when I could not stand the humiliation of my parents’ forgetting my year of birth, I let the panditji know my year of birth. The next question he asked put my parents’ in an even worse situation – “time of birth”. Father – “ummm…errr..6am..no no 10 pm no no umm errr”. Mother –“Arre, wait it was umm..errr… 3 am no no 7 pm…Oh! It was 6 pm!”. Me (when I could not handle it anymore) -“NOOOOOO it was 11.45 pm”. Mother & Father (in unison) –“Ofcourse ofcourse. That’s what we were about to say!”. My sister’s ominous voice, from the time when we were kids and she used to bully me, started ringing in my ears – “You are adopted”, “We picked you up from the gutter”. I quickly put the thoughts aside and started listening to the panditji who was telling my mother that by July 2010 I would be married. He even bet a Kosa kurta and dhoti with my mother when his prophecy would come true. Post that my mother was seen with a spring in her step throughout the day. What do I say…humph..!!