My Musings On 27/11

Walking to work on a glum Friday morning, I muse.
The last two days have been.... Unreasonable..

I got the news on Wednesday night. I jerked out of a very deep sleep because I remembered some unfinished buisiness at work. Called my colleague to ask him if he was still at work.. and got hit by the news that Mumbai was under flames.

Terrorists with guns were randomly firing at places ins South Mumbai? Come again?

My unfinished business remained so. I could not sleep most of the night and left home at eight again, just to get away.
MUSE: From my own home?!

Still walking, I wonder what’s their problem. I remember the face of the boy with the blue bag. At my first glimpse of it, I figured he was smiling. Only a closer look betrayed the real emotion. The face of a rapist.
MUSE: I don't where the word rapist came from. But, Im more than convinced that it is the perfect definition for the terrorist with the blue bag.

ATS head of Maharashtra is dead. The family of the G.M. of Taj is dead. Many foreigners are dead. Normally, these items would form the headlines of front pages. But, now they are just small items on the menu of mass murder.
MUSE: Terrorism is so much at large.

I wonder if a white police Qualis passed by me RIGHT NOW what would I do.
MUSE: I'm pretty sure I'd duck. Just looking at passing motorcyclist's provoking a silent scream in my throat.

There is an awkward silence at work. Nobody knows what to say. Even while walking on the road, I unwittingly searched the eyes of many a random passerby.
MUSE: I connect with them without having to say a word. They must have gone through the same emotional downheavel as me- Shock, Disbelief, Fury, Sadness and then Helplessness.

My boss enters late. She complains how the police force and government are sleeping.
MUSE: I don't think they are sleeping. I think they are trying. Something’s are just difficult to control.

I watch the picture of a little girl in a yellow dress. She is drenched in blood. She is in a cops arm. Quietly sipping water.
MUSE: She is as little as my niece, the love of my life- Aahana. I wouldn't let Aahana even 'watch' an animated video with a single bullet being fired.

I pick up the phone and call my mother. I tell her to be careful. She asks me to be careful.
I can imagine terrorists entering our institute and randomly firing. Or may be at the market or Railway station.
I can imagine myself falling down.
I'm so surprised, that I don't even cry. Crying is the one thing that is most natural to me.
I hope that when this happens, I am hit in the heart or brain, and die instantly. With out too much suffering.
I toy with the idea of calling my dad and siblings and then just drop the idea. Nothing's gonna happen.

But if it does, I’m ready.