Tuesday, April 28, 2009

The Second Day...

Two Years Ago…
He was running fast. He had to make it onto that 6:10 fast local to Borivili. It was his daughter’s birthday and he did not want to disappoint her. As he tried to push his way through the mass of humanity that Dadar station is, he noticed the train start moving. He cursed and tried to run faster. But it was too late. By the time he reached the edge of the platform the train was moving too fast. Panting heavily, he looked on as it disappeared.
He was a poor man. His tiny net cafe was not doing too well. Most people had internet connections at home. He was worried. Mumbai was a city of dreams. But those dreams had to be fought for. And he was slowly getting tired of fighting.
He was shaken out of his reverie by his vibrating cell phone. It was his wife. He was in for a lecture. He cursed having missed the train. But when he spoke, she sounded hysterical. She was weeping. Suddenly he feared for his daughter. Was she ok? And then her words tumbled out. There had been blasts on 7 trains. The 6:10 fast to Borivali was one of them.

Today…
He was walking along Marine Drive. There was a pleasant breeze blowing. He looked at the setting sun and smiled. A few paces ahead his wife and daughter were buying balloons. Their cheerful faces warmed his heart. He was a happy man today. His tiny net café had grown to a full fledged Computer Shoppe. He now stocked all kinds of accessories, software and even games. It never failed to surprise him when people spent fortunes on video games. But he was not complaining. Thanks to them he had something special in store for his family today.
They walked until they reached the end of the drive. And then he told them. He was going to treat them to 5 star dining today! It would be expensive for sure, but he felt they deserved it for all the tough times they had shared. As they walked into the foyer he could see the look of awe on their faces. But amidst that awe there was pride and respect for him. They went into the restaurant and sat at the table. He could not stop marvelling at all the opulence surrounding them. They tried to decide what they would eat. It would be a tough choice with all those items on the menu.

The two young men walked up the stairs into the hotel. They greeted the receptionist and asked her the way to the restaurant. Walking in, one of them noticed the family of three sitting at the first table. He nudged his partner and pointed at them. They would start there. Whispering a quick prayer, the two pulled out their Kalashnikovs…

Epilogue:
This is a work of fiction. But it is based on some facts. The Mumbai attacks are just 6 months old. And we have moved on. All the clamour and anger has died down. We are back to our usual ways while the perpetrators plan their next move.

Labels:

5 Comments:

Blogger 666 said...

Excellent dude. I have no words to describe how much I liked this post .. given the fact you havent posted for quite some time now.

Indeed its been 6 months. How time flies. Most of us have conveniently forgotten those unforgettable days of late November. Thanks for reminding, a small thing but goes a long way.

Our dear neighbour is in complete shambles he he. Talibanistan!! The recent fears of Pakistani nukes falling in their hands reminded me of the article you had referred. It might be interesting to take a look at it again given the new developments

Cheers

4/28/2009 11:43 pm  
Blogger J@$m!ne said...

Wow! That gave me goose bumps...
Excellent short story... I was in India at that time and remember spending hours watching the media cover the whole thing - all the time wondering - the hostages probably have their TV's on. Major oversight on the part of the Indian media.

4/30/2009 11:26 pm  
Blogger Samyak said...

I got my middle finger stained yesterday.

Trust me, Mumbai had never stopped, so no question of moving on. There was never any clamour or anger.

The Folks you saw at Gateway of India protesting, did vote yesterday. It is just that they were scattered across Mumbai. 1 lakh in 1.8 Crore is not even a percent.

Indifference is the way of life here or for that matter anywhere in the country. The bright side of a huge population. You are always fungible.

It has to stop right at the top for it to percolate downstairs.

Till then, there will be individual Heroes and Victims and Villains, and they will be forgotten just as quickly.

You keep doing your bit and then pray.

5/01/2009 1:50 am  
Blogger nom de plume said...

This comment has been removed by the author.

5/01/2009 2:17 am  
Blogger nom de plume said...

Good Stuff !!!! chanced upon your page after ages ...your story reminded me of the ending of "amu"...watch it if you havent seen it ....

5/01/2009 2:19 am  

Post a Comment

<< Home