I looked out of the window to see the torrential downpour still there. I decided to keep my bags there, so I got out of the office with just an umbrella. Just seconds had passed since I’d stepped out and I was wet through! Looking beyond the road, I saw the waves hitting the path to the island durgah and as usual, the sea tempted me. Wet anyways, I shut my umbrella and started walking towards it. Kids and oldies all alike, men n women from all faiths thronged here. They were showered with smiles!!!
I observed multifarious people but still remember a family; a couple in their mid 30s perhaps, and a kid of around 10.
“Kitta pani honeka nai? Baba! Tum to poora bhiga honeka.Aur bhi badhta kya pani?”
“Aur nahi to kya? Wo Salim bolneka ye rasta bhi poora pani ke neechu jaata hai!”...
I later met them at the bus stop. I waited for the bus because I knew the trains would never run on time in such rains. The guy came up to me and asked, “Miyaan, Dadar station se Kurla janeku train milenga na?”
I replied with a nod. A bit of chat and I learned that they hailed from Hyderabad and were here at his brother’s place. And he learnt that I too was supposed to go via Dadar. Few more minutes flew by. But no sight of the bus. And now his kid had started to shiver in the cool breeze of the evening blowing over the sea. He called for a taxi, offered me a lift, but I convince him how I won’t get a place to sit in the bus if not for that stop! A shake of the hand and they left with smiles on their faces!!!
I looked at my watch. 6:52 pm. I was going to be late. Wife would be crazy again! I made a mental note to buy her favourite mogre ka gajra on my way home!
Just the the silver lining appears on the horizon- Bus # 385!!!
Slow moving traffic, wet clothes, shut windows! But nothing can prevent me from a good dose of music!
It was some time later that my cell phone rang which got me out of my trance. It was her.
“Haan dear bolo! Aaj bus se aa rahaa hoon.”
A concerned sound of hers asked me if all was right! I confirmed my well being and it was then that I came to know that a serial blasts have rocked the city again just about 10 minutes back. Three places, one of them near Dadar station. My mind started racing, taking me to a different world! The very fact that I could have been there, and how I had escaped it by a whisker. Then the thoughts of the Hyderabadi family. It was too much of pain to imagine the smiling family to be amidst that debris. I could never find out what happened to them...
I logged on to FB for updates. It was being flooded with angered comments.
Taking a deep breath, I plunged into thoughts. The aeni mentis.
Tomorrow I’ll read of the blasts as a thing of the past. Yet another black Wednesday, just like the other black Tuesdays or Fridays.
Then I’ll see the resilient Mumbaikars getting back on track and hear of their heroics and bravery. And the famous Mumbai-spirit!
And the third day, it’ll be back to the scams! Nothing would change. Not till the next attacks. But that too would be just a couple of days. Nothing will change even then.
I had just survived a bomb blast! It could very much have been the last ride of my life had I taken it!
Survival! Strange word. Even animals survive. I’m no animal, I’m a human! I want to live!
So do the many around me. I don’t want to be tagged as resilient or brave; I need to be away from this. Just because I deserve to live! A peaceful night’s sleep is all I want, without having to fear whether I’ll survive the next day.
The secret behind the spirit of Mumbai is not its brave citizens. It is the hunger which craves and forces them to work. If they don’t bounce back, they’ll not survive. They’ve turned to animals who walk blindly. And that is why they survive.
I want to live.
Note: It’s time to take off the mask of tolerance. We are a peace loving nation, a responsible one, which has not started a war on any foreign country in the living history of over 1000 years. Agreed! But how long can we boast of that? We’ll have to survive to do that...
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