The Dark Night of 26/11 Watched on TV
And When The Famed 'Mumbai-Spirit' Helped The City Move On, 365 Days Later!
The excitement of a 32nd birthday (only a few hours ago) just beginning to subside , 26th of November 2008 was a quiet day, and was about to end normally. At about half past nine in the evening, my wife and I decided to go for a short drive with our 5-month-old son. Just before stepping out, I turned on the television to see ‘what was happening.’ Sunetra Choudhury of NDTV 24x7 was breaking a story of a ‘gang fight’ which ended in gun firing in Mumbai. Who the firers were, was not confirmed… but an underworld gun fire fight ‘was taking place’ near and about Mumbai’s (and India’s) most prestigious landmarks.
Flipping through other news channels, including regional ones, the same story broke in. Anyways, we stuck to our plan and went on the drive, but the tone of the news presentation was a bother in the mind.
On returning, rather quicker than usual, the TV was switched on again, and there was Sunetra Choudhury with a more concerned tone of voice, now sort of sounding like this was indeed a ‘terror strike’. Arnab Goswami was repeatedly hammering in the news with his adamant voice and tone – “terror strikes Mumbai yet again”. Rajdeep Sardesai said the same.
Just when you thought this was more serious than a gun fight, Vikram Chandra took over at the NDTV studio and by then, the terror news got established beyond doubt, though we still din’t know the extend.
Along with this, came ‘fresh’ visuals of a vehicle passing by a crowd of people and on the way, shooting - something we’re used to seeing only in movies. Then shots of a fire at the Trident hotel. The scene changed quickly to one of India’s iconic and most beautiful buildings - the Taj Hotel. And more bad news began to come, like an unfolding movie plot. There were conflicting numbers and news of terrorists inside, indiscriminately firing at guests and staff of the hotels. Large balls of fire were now showing on the screen… by the minute, things were getting dark. These were unforgettable scenes on Indian TV that unleashed a sense of disbelief. TV journalists one after the other started to mention the high profile nature of the subjects of terror. Names like ‘The Chambers’, ‘Kandahar’, names of big and famous restaurants filled the air waves. High profile guests were reportedly inside these hotels.
Some probably just filled their mouth with a piece of Lobster meat and someone else would have just sipped some Wine. One may have finished pulling someone else’s legs on some old college story, while businessmen may have been in the middle of negotiating a major investment into India which would provide a few hundred jobs. A couple on the 5th floor of the hotel would have been enjoying a room-service candle lit dinner in the quiet privacy of their first moments in life together. Some others might have just commented on a new item on the menu of a food festival down stairs at the banquet hall.
At the kitchen, India’s most celebrated chefs might have been fist-pumping excited of repeat orders of their hand crafted dishes of the night. Waiters might have just made their guests feel at home. A ‘Housekeeping’ staff may just have returned from a room after delivering just the right kind of pillow to a guest from Finland who perhaps had three sleepless nights and two hectic days of business meetings. And he would have been boasting to his colleagues about the Finn smile. Banquet staff might have been nestling through a buffet counter crowd trying to fill the dessert bowl. The door man may have just been greeting a special loyal guest from the Middle East while electricians and maintenance engineers may just have been heaving a sigh of relief that there were no major breakdowns.
And all of a sudden, imagine a scene where gun shots are heard, bullets fly around, people crash to the hard granite floors stained in blood. Think of that mad scampering, loud screams, shouts and wails, and desperate attempts to escape the worst… all this may have happened in the course of a few seconds. Suddenly, what seemed like the best place on earth may have turned into hell.
Life changed for some. Life was no more for others.
Those who escaped have had a number of stories to tell - of blood; the horror of walking over dead bodies, and so on.
In the meanwhile, Hemant Karkare became the name to follow. We were told that he and others were at the spot trying to counter the mindless terrorists. No more than 2 minutes passed and we heard he was shot! At… at a hospital! One wondered why he ever went to a hospital when we were told that all the action was at the hotels. It was then, we were told that another officer who was in the news till the afternoon of that fateful day, Vijay Sarloskar was also at the hospital fighting the terrorists. No more than 2-3 minutes passed when we hear that he too was shot. Soon, came in the name of the other police head Ashok Kamte. All three had in a short span of time made themselves known to the whole world, of their grit in dealing with the underworld and terror networks.
An interview to NDTV by Hemant Karkare played on a loop. The discussion across channels shifted to the great gusto police officer he is and all that… then came in clips of his dressing up as a fighter. Within a minute: “we are receiving some sad news that is pending confirmation. Hemant Karkare is no more and he has died because of the wounds he sustained in the shooting he was subjected to”.
Sitting on the edge of my sofa, I noticed my heart was beating fast. In another 10 minutes, news of the tragic, extremely tragic deaths of three gallant officers Mumbai could boast, was aired across all channels. A set of fast-paced and obnoxious truths were being aired.
News of celebrated food commentator Sabina’s possibility of being trapped in one of the rooms at the Taj came in as yet another rude shocker. Her husband was talking about the last message that appeared on his cell saying “they’re in the bathroom of my room”. I knew that I yelled only when my wife jumped out of bed and came out and asked what the hell I was doing at 230 in the morning!
Somewhere in the middle of all of this, pictures of Kasab the lone terrorist survivor pointing his gun and angrily looking at someone flashed across all channels. So scared was I, that thinking that the fight was all going on very close to the place I was sitting, I got up and ensured that all windows were closed. Shut. Bolted. Door locked. For once I wished there was a cross bar!
It was only much after this that we were told about the third site of the Nariman House. The scale of the attack was getting unbelievably bigger every minute.
During college days, I remember standing opposite the Taj and stood still appreciating the architecture and grandeur of the old wing of the hotel. In the dead of the night of 26th November, I was sitting still, feeling terrible after seeing thick black smoke coming out of that fascinating structure.
The entire country stood still, silent and hurt at not knowing what to do. Not for a day or two. But for four days. Today, it looks like a joke that a handful of adolescent boys committed to the core of an inexplicable philosophy, took an entire country into their hands and played games with it.
About 45 days later, I visited Mumbai for a visa interview and at once, felt there was this uneasy calm across the great city of Mumbai. The usual smiling faces were not to be seen. People were less on the roads. Cars were less. I was told by my taxi driver that nights were early for the late city. A sense of rage could be felt everywhere. Airport security was “visible”. The stamp mark of new Home Minister P Chidambaram (who by then announced several measures) could be seen.
Again, the following year, exactly on 26th November 2009, on the first anniversary, another visit to Mumbai. This time around, things looked very very normal. The smiles were back. Chic dresses, tie-clad men walking and laughing over a conversation, cool-looking taxi cabs. The Police were friendlier.
Wading through the disorderly and chaotic traffic that is marked by loud and long honking of the impatient behind the wheels, I saw this palpable change in the entire scape of the city. Near the site of the Trident Hotel, almost all tv channel vehicles were parked there. Cameramen took pictures of the hotel from about the same angles as they did last year. College kids, or so I thought, sat on the parapet walls of the marine drive facing the sea and enjoying the November breeze and warm sunshine.
As I waited around the French Consulate building (Hoeschst House), I noticed the buzz suddenly picking up in that area as it was lunch hour. Employees wearing office id badges were out on the streets in groups, foursomes, trios, duos and alone. Life moved on at a brisk pace - the breathtaking speed which the city’s is known for.
Hungry, I walked up to the popular ‘Status Restaurant’. The large seating facility hardly had an empty table. Peals of laughter, rushed conversations and speedy ordering of food could be heard throughout the hall - the noise was almost deafening. Outside, there are long, but fast moving queues of people waiting in front of two counters. One for ‘Take Aways’ and the other for ‘having it here’. It was rush hour. Every few seconds, someone got inside, and another walked out wiping out the last bit of chutney off the shirt, or from the corner of their lips.
As I got closer to the counter, I realised I had to be super fast to tell them what I wanted. There were two people in front of me at the counter. By the time the first person took his coupon and moved to his left, the person right in front of me already had his coupon in his hand!! Extra ordinary speed this was. I also got my coupon and moved to the left. A pillar separated the area where coupons were issued and where food was served. Moving beside the pillar, a few fingers called for my attention - the person behind the food delivery counter spotted me much before I thought and was impatiently asking me for my coupon! Within a few seconds, a plate of hot ‘poorie and subzee’ settled in my hands. Had I been a tad slower, the guy behind me would have marched right over me!
Even as I stuffed my mouth with pieces of crispy poori along with subzee, it was difficult not to overhear loud conversations. Almost every conversation was about money. Gossips too, flew faster than ‘breaking news’. Analyses of interest rates and the Sensex, moved faster than the movement of those rates.
Outside, walking back towards ‘Hoeschst House’, I noticed a well- dressed, middle aged, man walking fast, with his hand to the ear. Deep in thought (or was he listening to something?), he looked like he was thinking of something very important. Maybe, single-mindedly focusing on some responsibility life had thrust on him. Or, was he one of those impacted by that dark night of 26/11? All of a sudden, he stopped and leaned on a lamp post, sort of appeared to listen to something. By this time, I reached just beside him and heard a different sound… “Harbhajan Singh ne ek acchi gend diya unko phir ek baad… lekin … araam se khela aur, koi nuksaan nahin…”! This was so familiar, but totally unexpected.
Hearing that a wicket hadn’t fallen in that cricket match that day (against Sri Lanka at Kanpur), this man muttered some curse words, and continued on his brisk walk to wherever he was supposed to go.
All of this happened just a few meters behind the site of one of the most brutal and dramatic terror acts in history. Was anyone bothered about 26/11 anymore, I wondered. January 2009 was different in that it was a little subdued and solemn than usual. That soberness eclipsed into the old ways of Mumbai as we always knew.
They say, ‘life has to move on’. They also celebrate the cliche - the Spirit of Mumbai Spirit (which I feel, is just unfair on a city that has seen a number of crises from terror and riots, to massive rains and floods).
No wonder, the effect of 26/11 had evaporated into vapours of the term, ‘life has to move on’! Move on to where??