Showing posts from November, 2008

A tribute

-By Swetha Amit The last two days and three nights have a continuous ordeal of nightmare. Terrorists unknown in number were lurking about in the most unexpected of locales holding hostages to ransom. It was convicted as another 9/11 only this time it actually ended up being a 28/11. Residents have been waking up to gun shots, heavy firing in the vicinity. It made many wonder if Mumbai will ever see daylight again.

Fear, panic and tension rose in the air. The city which usually bounces back from the tragedy the next day was brought to a stand still. The bustling area of Colaba which is usually vivacious turned into a war zone with commandos and choppers indulging in reinforcement to eliminate the miscreants. The three operations at Oberoi, Nariman house and Taj intensified. Exchanges with the enemy and loud bombings send shivers down the spine around those watching it on television and live. It w…

The Dark Night

-Written By Swetha Amit It was the usual routine towards the end of a rather long day that brought us to the gym tonight. Little did we realize that an unexpected jolt of news would completely cast a dark shadow on the entire spirited city of Mumbai within a span of five hours? It seemed like a night that would never see daylight with the severe recurring attacks of masked faces.

It was the voice of a frantic man reporting an appalling incident of having witnessed a shooting outside Leopold’s in Colaba Causeway that made many sit up and take notice of. The instant reaction of logging on to the news channels followed hoping for more insights on this bizarre occurrence. The initial reports of it being a fiasco between two warring gangs led to a casual dismissal as just one of those incidents when a couple of more atrocities were announced. Before anyone could say ‘Jack Robinson’, a couple of blast…

Retaining the child in you

-By Swetha Amit
It was the sight of a child not more than 9 years of age consoling his mother that brought me to a screeching halt equaling to that of a car slamming its breaks on seeing an aged pedestrian. As I drew closer to this rather unusual sight I learnt that she had lost her purse containing a lump sum amount of money which symbolized her pined up hopes for the future. “Don’t worry mom. Everything lost will come back in some form or the other. Life is like that.”

The calm expression on the little boy’s face was one that imprinted in my mind as I cruised through the busy streets of Mumbai. There was none of the expected innocence and the vitality that one would expect from those who haven’t even reached the brink of adolescence. And yet words spoken could have put a so called ‘grown up’ to shame who would have normally reacted in nothing less than a hyperactive manner. My mind flashed ba…