Skip to main content

Reeling

It;s been two days since the terror attacks and Mumbai still seems to be reeling from the effects of the terror attacks. The anger and the rage is overflowing. People are displaying unabashed hatred for our politicians. And promises are being made of how we aren't going to take this lying down and how we're going to fight back.

But I'm a little bit cynical, I wonder how how long before we forget and move on to dealing with our daily lives, until the next time 180 people are killed and over 300 injured.

But at the same time I'm proud. Proud of the stories I'm hearing of people, who've saved multiple lives. Who risked their own lives for others. The stories are pouring in now and they're heartwarming especially the one of VD Zende, the announcer at CST, who saved hundreds of lives with his quick thinking and presence of mind. I've been going around telling everyone his story and his bravery ranks right up there with those of the NSG commandos and police for me.

What really pissed me off however was ATS chief Hemant Karkare's funeral. Politicians all around the country came out in support of him. Talking about what an honest, upright and brave cop he was. Convienently forgetting that they had been maligning him for the Malegaon blasts just sometime back.

And how ashamed I was of the people who stood outside Nariman House chanting slogans and cheering, but mostly doing their best to get on the TV cameras. Barkha Dutt described it as Mumbai's 'spirit', I on the other hand think of it as voyeurism of the worst kind. How can you celebrate at a time when people are mourning the loss of their loved ones. When an operation is being carried out and there's a chance that there might be a loss of more lives. Most of them were there in the hope of seeing a little bit of blood and gore and take part in something that they've only seen in films. After all, often real life is stranger than reel.

But something that really broke my heart was Orange Jammies post. That is exacty the way I feel about Bombay and what I love about it. How much I miss it when I'm away and how I can't imagine myself living away from the city for too long.

I hope and pray that the government finally wakes and gives us back our city.

Comments

Ace said…
Talking about voyeurism, I noticed that the camera was constantly on Hemant Karkare's wife's face when they were shooting the funeral. One can't grieve without being on national television now? Tears sell!

Popular posts from this blog

Remembering Avanti

Day before yesterday, on the 8th of November 2008, Avanti Desai would have turned 21. Instead 15 days before her birthday, as she hurried home to celebrate her grandmother's birthday, Avanti met with a train accident at Jogeshwari station.

Just like that. Gone from our lives forever. Leaving behind a huge void and the world a lot more gloomier.

And when I got the call first thing in the morning, I couldn't believe it. I thought it was a cruel sadistic joke, but as the calls kept coming in, I realised it was true. Even at the cemetary,, it still hadn't sunk in that Avanti was no longer here. The worst moment though was watching her disappear into the crematorium, it was horrible and I couldn't believe we were leaving her there, and through the next couple of hours all I could think of was of her going up in smoke while we stood there in the bright sunshine.

It seemed incomprehensible at first, to think of Avanti as dead, to talk about her in the past tense, to get used…

Wanderlust Part Deux

I came across this in a Danielle Steele book. Who said you can't get anything good out of those books? One of my favourite poems and one I read virtually every time I get the urge to travel.

Wander, wander,
wandering
meandering,
the urge to roam,
to dance,
to fly,
to be,
the search for
free,
the need to see
to go
to find
to search
to do,
my thirsts
so easily quenched
so close to home
and yours so grand,
so elegant,
so marvelous,
climbing mountaintops
and elephants
and tiger hunts
and dancing bears
and far off stars
and trips to mars
and all of it
so wild,
so vast,
so free,
as you go wander,
wander,
wandering,
and then the best
part of all
when, satisfied,
complete,
and happy now,
you wander
slowly
home
to me.

The Roaring Twenties

So here I am on the eve of my 30th birthday, my very last day of being 29, just about 4 hours left of being a twenty-something.

A couple of years ago, I remember snidely chuckling away to myself, when a favourite blogger of mine turned 30, believing that it was so far away, it could never touch me. I'm regretting that now.

And to be honest, I thought I would be okay, I really honestly truly believed that I would be greeting this new decade with a casual insouciance and indifference that would normally be characteristic for me, but I'm not. I'm terrified of how quickly my twenties have zoomed by and how little I've accomplished and perhaps that is what is upsetting me.

On the cusp of another decade on this planet, well, I feel like a bit of a failure. No, scratch that, I feel majorly like a failure. I'm drowning in self-pity and anguish at wasted opportunities, at thrown-away chances, at my inherent laziness and procrastination, at my never-ending ability to put of…