Attacking me

I go through all my old posts where I have written about experiencing blasts, floods and other calamities in Mumbai, and I come back to what I have been feeling since I woke up yesterday morning. Sickw ith worry, but a very different kind of sick. A very different kind of worry.

I am not there. The journalist in me is disgusted by the fact that I am not present in Mumbai, where it’s all happening, to be able to talk about it first hand, to be able to report it in whatever way. The friend in me is busy finding out if everyone I know is safe, including Mr.Pilot’s dad who works in the ATS. The Mumbaitte in me is horribly upset by the fact that I am not in the city at this moment. To be a part of the pulse of this city. Someone said its about moving on, its not. Its about being a part of that city inspite of being away from it. And I dont feel like a part right now.

Yes this is a selfish post. I am done talking about the resilience of Mumbai, the never-say-die spirit, the efficient police and the useless politicians. Everyone knows this, everyone has the same opinions and feelings about this. Including me. Where my opinions differ is at the fact that I am not there. I want to be there. I want to be a part of the collective worry.

I dont know what to make of the “Make India secure for Muslims” crap. Are they really that stupid to think that gunning down five-star hotels and blasting the commercial capital of the country will make people love Muslims? Do they think this is what it takes to make Indians as a whole protect the Islamic community? Seriously? Shouldn’t these terrorists have my Logic professor from College sitting with them when they make their strategies?

Someone else said that they are doing this for publicity, which would mean that through their publicity they want to either get respect or fear. Try contempt? If theu believe in either of these then they need my Communications professor from post-grad sitting next to them when they make their strategies.

My best friend works in a news channel, another very dear friend works for an online news website, and an ex-classmate is out there live reporting this. My best friend, sne, is working a 24 hour shift, I called her when she was reaching her workplace in the morning, worried whether she reached safely or not. And she emailed me back saying, “I can’t believe you of all people asked me why I came to work today.” And thats when I realized, love crosses all lines of ethics and whatnot. As a journalist, I know that you work inspite of all the mess around, but as a friend, you hate that fact, and battle it too, when its a friends safety on line.

I watch live TV for the first time since I left the country now. I never felt the need to. But suddenly, it has been streaming on my laptop since a friend passed that link to me after I complained about the bad cyber news state of the Indian media. It has been streaming all night, and the minute since I woke up. Terror Strikes Mumbai Again, Breaking News, Gunshots and Blasts All Over Mumbai, Mumbai Under Seige, havve been flashing in my brain even when I am away from the screen.

“Everyone in Mumbai – msg me NOW!!” says my gtalk status message, every now and then, other friends in other parts of the world, buzz me online to ask me if everyone I know is ok. Some times the same question is asked thrice within the span of the last 24 hours between the same people. Everyone has the same answer too, “A few close calls, but all ok.” This sounds exactly like what I heard on July 12th 2006. Everyone had closecalls. I did too. Everyone did. After a few more days, the stories of a friend’s friend’s father being a victim came in. This time, I’m hoping that will not happen. This time, I am pretty sure, no one I know, directly or indirectly, will be a victim. Close calls.

These are the different levels of my understanding this attack. These are the different levels of the attack for me.

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