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| 26/11: Let the Nightmare End |
| Saturday November 28, 2009 |
| It was the morning of November 26, 2009. I had to reach the Taj to cover the first anniversary of the 26/11 terrorist attacks and I was running late. I hailed a cab outside the Marine Lines station and gave directions to the driver. "Kya saab, aaj ke din hi aapko Taj jaanaa zaroor hai? Aaj ek saal hai hamlo ka." (Is it necessary for you to go to the Taj today? Today, is exactly a year after the attacks.) I got off the taxi, paid him and before I could even ask him his name, he zipped off. To the next customer. Outside the Taj, my guest was Dr Prashant Mangeshikar. A gynaecologist who almost got killed that bloody night and had spent 12 hours hiding in the five star hotel with his estranged wife and daughter. Tragedies like 26/11 have the potential of bringing people closer. Not for the Mangeshikars. They are all set to divorce this December. "The attack completely changed my life. This is my second innings and... But can we finish the interview as soon as possible," he asked apologetically, "I need to catch a flight to Hyderabad in a few hours." And a day earlier, a young NCC cadet had come all the way to South Mumbai to take part in an 'artistic tribute for the 26/11 martyrs'. Perplexed and happy, he chose to join a rather elitist typically South Mumbai, 'let's-paint-the-wall-campaign', I requested him to hang on a little longer for a live interview. "OK, sure. But please hurry. I need to rush home to fill water before the taps run dry!" Apologies for the cliche, but "in the city that never sleeps", the citizenry surely feels, but life simply goes on. And these examples only reiterate the reality of every busy mega polis in the world. In a workers' city like Mumbai, where daily wages make ends meet for millions, truth is beyond a point, there is just no time to pause and mourn. The stress of everyday existence is unreasonably high: scrounging for autorickshaws and taxis, battling for foot-space in over-crowed trains, juggling work hours with 'wet-tap' and load shedding hours... This doesn't imply Mumbaikars are insensitive. 26/11 was horrifically painful. The intensity and duration of the attack, numbed the city. The blood and gore was deeply disturbing. Many who are normally stoic, privately shed tears. Immediately after the attacks, scores rushed to hospitals to donate blood. So overwhelming was the response, many had to be sent back. Days later, I recall vividly, hundreds assembled at the Gateway of India, where we saw spontaneous outpouring of grief, protests, screams, angry crowds sloganeering against the political class for their not-so-surprising apathy. Unchanneled raw energy, some of it immature and jingoistic and certainly without direction. But the questions raised by the raging crowds, the anger, the pain, were all genuine. Now, a year down the line, the wounds haven't healed, but the city and its people are moving on - a process that takes place simultaneously at many levels, differently for different people. Not everyone experienced the shock and trauma of the attacks at the same intensity. The worst affected: the ones who lost their dear ones and those who survived the onslaught of bullets. For them the recovery will be slow, tearful and probably they will never forget the pain and loss for their entire lives. For the rest of us, who lived the attacks watching live TV, naturally we have been less affected compared to them. The aam Mumbaikar hit the grind again almost immediately. And I personally, see nothing wrong with that. India, especially Mumbai, isn't alien to terrorist attacks. There have been dozens of blasts across India and we no longer as a collective, recall the pain or the dates like we did for 26/11. (25/8, anyone?) Cynics claim the candle light vigils, the peace marches, the wall paintings, the protests are all fine but they smack of superficiality as they don't result on building pressure on our netas - who only know too well that public memory is like a short fuse. Civil society on the other hand says, with the limited time available there is only so much that can be done. In this battle, cynics seem to have had the last laugh, when they point out how poorly Mumbai voted in the recently held Lok Sabha and Assembly elections. That said, 26/11 did leave behind deep scars. The sheer magnitude and brutality of a fidayeen attack, the brazen act of war, the bloody 60 hours siege, the casualness of the conversations between the terrorists and their Pakistani handlers and the prized catch - Ajmal Kasab, - which nailed Pakistan's lie. Contrast this with mili-second blasts and the faceless terrorists we knew earlier. 26/11 had a face and character, which other attacks never had. The public outcry was also the final outburst of cumulative exasperation the entire country felt in 2008. They were sick and tired of the Indian Mujahideen terror attacks in Bangalore, Delhi, Jaipur, Ahmedabad and Surat. When 26/11 happened, that bottled rage and helplessness found an outlet. India wept as one, repulsed and enraged. Reason why, though we are moving on today, our lives have been forever altered. Though we seem to be all speaking in one voice and there is a semblance of unity still, doubt, suspicion, fear and mistrust have steadily seeped deeper into the city's psyche. When I met that taxi driver, I was intrigued by his response and I asked him how had the attacks changed his life? "Now, whenever a passenger gets off, I look over my shoulder to check if he hasn't left behind a bag. Even if a passenger wants to temporarily leave his luggage, I tell I'm ready to forego the fare, but no unattended luggage please. After all, the 26/11 terrorists left bombs in taxis they hired." Enter a train and the distraught Mumbaikar will certainly glance at the luggage rack - just in case a tiffin carrier has not been 'left behind'. "Kuch bhi, kahin bhi, kabhi bhi ho sakta hai," is a standard reply. The government has started modernising our antiquated armouries. At a cost of Rs 120 crore, sophisticated weapons, quality bullet-proof jackets, combat vehicles, speed boats, CCTV cameras and hi-end communication devices have been purchased. Steps to improve gathering of intelligence have also been reportedly taken. Mercifully, the country has been spared of more attacks, even as the threat always remains. Still, there is no guarantee another attack won't ever happen. No government or home minister can ever give such assurances, though they promise India is safer today than ever before. However, 26/11 isn't India's 9/11. Apart from the obvious difference in the number of deaths - 166 in 26/11, over 3000 in 9/11 - America didn't know what hit them, whereas India knew this was always coming. We must learn the lessons; honour the victims and martyrs. But it's time we let the nightmare end. |
Tejas Mehta is a Mumbai-based journalist with NDTV 24X7. He is a daily news reporter who enjoys being in the field. Now a broadcast journalist, he was earlier with the print media.
