13 Years of Freedom

On this day, thirteen years ago, I was in school (I think it was the IVth standard). The time was around 4 pm and we were looking forward to the Games period, which was the last one scheduled for the day. Suddenly, the school buses arrived in a hurry and we were all whisked off in a hurry. No one was prepared to tell us what was going on, not the teachers, not the bus driver or cleaner. Finally, at home, the TV proved to be the informer. There had been a series of bomb blasts in the city..........

For many days after that, my parents continued to talk about the incident. About how grave it was and how the perpetrators of this heinous act should be brought to justice. At that time, the gravity of the situation never hit me. Today, when I look back at that time, I can only ask myself one question, "Why???" Why Bombay, why the innocent people? I have still not found an answer to this question.

However, there is one outcome of these blasts for which I am certainly thankful to the perpetrators. The bombs have only succeeded in weaving together the complicated fabric of Bombay even more tightly. Not only since, have people realised the futility of rising against each other, but they also actively dissuade others from indulging in the same mindlessness. In short, the spirit of Bombay lives on.

People often ask me where is this spirit visible. If you ask me, it was there in 1993 also. A friend of mine, NI, told me about a statistical hoarding. On 12th March, 1993, there were 12 bomb blasts in Bombay. On 13th March, 1993, office attendance was at 93%.

I rest my case.