Ode to 26/11

The screams of terror echoed not only in the vicinity of the Leopold Café, Taj Mahal Hotel and the nine other places that were bombed by the ruthless Islamist terrorists but in the hearts of their families, their city, their country and the world. Exactly four years ago, the hustle bustle of Bombay’s busy life was interrupted when the first gun was fired and the first person was shot. Thus began the start of the worst terrorist attack India had ever seen. Phone lines were jammed with worried and restless relatives and friends calling their kin to see if they were alright. Tears escaped the eyes of many as the news showed the every growing casualties hoping for the ones they knew and praying for the ones they didn’t. Anger seethed through the veins of the people who saw what they did on the television and knew they couldn’t do anything to stop it. Every time a bomb blasted, the cries of a million people were heard with it. Every time a gun was shot, a family lost a father, a mother a daughter or a son and in some cases all at the same time.

Vexation coursing through people’s blood, anyone they could put the blame on was hated. Anyone. Just someone who could explain why. Why this was happening to innocent lives and why they were being lost. The media criticized the politicians who criticized the police who went back to the media. A vicious cycle from where no answer was emerging. But it stopped, eventually.

The country had come to a standstill for those three days but now it was moving again. Yes, the hearts that had been broken, the families that had been torn apart and the city that had fallen to its knees, would take time to heal and stand again. But it would happen. And it did.

Even now, four years later, we have not forgotten. The scars remain, etched in our hearts forever. Every year, on this day we will remember you Bombay, for you are India’s shining symbol of pride that has risen from the ashes of the dark devastating monster that we call terrorism.