Sunday, July 16, 2006

email from an editor of Times of India about the 7/ 11 blasts

This is a fwded message

Dear all,

Today's Mid-Day edit begins by saying that you don't need to be a rocket
scientist to understand that the chain of events starting from the Bhiwandi
riots to the desecration of Meenatai's statue and what happened as an
aftermath, to the serial blasts on the trains yesterday, means somebody
somewhere wants Mumbaikar's to spill out on the streets and grab each other
by the throats.

Incidentally, these same somebody-- the faceless outcasts that they still
are-- have at least succeeded in one part of their plan. Mumbaikars have
actually spilled out on to the streets.

The catch here is that they have failed to succeed in the second and most
important part of their plan: that of getting Mumbaikars to grab each other
by the throats. Mumbaikars spilled onto the streets-- in a collective show
of the middle finger to those who proposed otherwise.

I know very well that you are already aware of how Mumbai stormed onto the
streets to help the injured, the stranded and soothe the injuries that were
still gaping along its life line.

There were capsules and capsules of streaming video that showed them
offering water and refreshments to people stranded on SV Road and the
Eastern and Western Express Highways.

There were captures of students of Sydenham and SNDT college, who camped at
Churchgate station with the sole purpose of offering a bed to those stranded
at the starting node of the life line.

And there was also that memorable grab of people standing patiently in front
of KEM Hospital-- all in a serpentine queue, to donate blood. A result of
which has been a no-shortage syndrome, when it comes to blood at all the
hospitals where the injured are being treated or are recuperating.

But this is not about all that. And yet, it is about all that and more. It
is about the sights I saw and the people I met with, while travelling along
the Western Express Highway to Kandivali yesterday, between 7 in the evening
and one in the morning.

It is about that little kid and his grandfather near Dadar, who, perhaps in
the absence of anybody else in the household, took to the streets with
bottles of water and packets of biscuits to contribute in whatever way
possible in managing the crisis. "Uncle, you must be thirsty," the kid told
me while offering the bottle. A parched me drank gratefully. And I saw in
those eyes no fear. So what did those terrorists think while planting the
bomb? That was at least the silent way of making one statement-- "Terror, my
foot.!"

It is also about those housewives in front of a housing society near Santa
Cruz, who were standing with pots of piping tea, water and God only knows
what else to help those passing by. And they had this board beside them
which read "Beyond Borivli, Can Stay'. I was lucky to get a cab, but there
were people who were trying to make it on foot. And they needed succor.
Rest. Shelter. It was raining.

It is about the autorickshaw driver, who finally reached me home in the
interiors of Kandivali at 1 in the morning. And refused to take the night
fare, despite being legally empowered to charge extra. "Nehi saab, aaj ki
baat alag hai. Aap thik thak ghar pohuj gaye, yeh hi kafi hai," he bade me
goodbye at my doorstep.

It is also about the dabbawala who provides me with my dinner everyday. His
shop is near the Borivli station, where there was one of the biggest blasts
at 6:34 in the evening. Yet, at one o clock in the morning, the dabba was
there waiting at my doorstp to be picked up. It didn't need a note. The
piping hot food at such an unearthly hour said it all.

The terrorists succeeded in synchronising a series of blasts that stopped
the Mumbai lifeline for somewhere around seven hours. That was all that they
achieved on 7/11. The trains were back on track by 1:30 in the morning and
they plied all through the night. I wonder if the masterminds will consider
this before planning their next attack. I would urge them to-- if this
reaches any one of them-- to rethink. After all, what did a year of
planning, six months of smuggling dangerous explosives, extensive netwroking
and crores achieve at the end-- arond 200 lives and just seven hours of
disruption? Bus! I won't budge for that. In the deal they united more than
they dreamt to rip apart.

And by the way, I did not spot any member of the celebrated Readers' Digest
survey team yesterday on the roads. Or perhaps they were there--
reconsidering their statement.

I request whoever receives this, to forward it to as many people as
possible. At least that way, we will build an opinion against these faceless
faces of terror


Sudip Ghosh
Deputy Editor
Medianet
Times of India, Mumbai

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