Lumbini Park no longer attracted the same volume of crowds after being branded a scenic graveyard thanks to the blasts that tore Hyderabad apart on August 25, 2007, moments before the second blast at Gokul chat. Even today, the cookware at Gokul chat smell of blood and mayhem as the blast that shook the city still manages send a chill down my spine. Those were the days in my junior college that taught me to rejoice a footboard journey in a bus packed thrice it capacity. Yes, a bomb in the bus could inflict more damage than what either of the blasts managed. Like every other Indian, I was shaken. Like any other Hyderabadi, I was scared and thanked heavens on returning home from any place that attracted huge crowds. Places where a lunchbox or two could easily have gone untouched or even unnoticed. I was done through the day, the college and through five and a half years from then.
The recent blasts at Dilsukhnagar were what the police have warned us back then. They sent out press releases that warned the common man what-if and how-to during such trying circumstances. The article scrolls through my mind with the words lunchboxes, motorcycles, suspicious blast, Indian Mujahideen and what not, melting down from the cold and subconscious portions of my memory. I might sound stereotypical in questing if the Police were in a slumber or were tending to the corrupt (stereotypical again) bastards who stick their heads out at times like these and utter the time tested rubbish that the media itself was done writing. I ponder if India has gone back to square one without doing much homework after the blasts that keep rocking the cradle every once in a while. Are we so ignorant that we let some mentally challenged guys to smuggle in explosives and plant them right in front of our own eyes? Are we so foolish that we know who they are but accept lame statements from the elite who are not willing to put “UNFAIR” claims? My dear politician, we know that when you’re done beating around the bush all that is left is a fresh topic for media to pour on and a bunch of tombstones.
One of the biggest hubs of the city that housed many coaching institutes, cinema theatres, bus stops, paying guest houses and fruit cum vegetable markets turned into an inferno within the wink of an eye whilst the cloud of dust and distress filled the place. All that was left when it settled was chopped limbs, dead bodies and blood that stained the roads better than the tar used on them. Watching Arnav Goswami breathe fire on the ministry and police, it was time we asked the men in white and ourselves the following questions:
- Why are there no CCTV cameras (at least one) nearby?
- How long can we digest the trash Home Ministry has to say?
- How are the terrorists able to smuggle explosives after all that we learnt from 26/11?
- Is India worse than a developing nation in preventing blasts?
- Why did the government fail to act when there was Intel at its disposal?
Dear Mr. Manmohan Singhji,
As an Indian citizen, it was in my best capabilities that I tried to confide and support you. But it tests my courage to tell you that my patience has been exhausted as I believe my faith in you shall never bear any fruit. Your unperturbed composure and calm may serve as an example to many but I am sorry to state they are nothing more than cannon without fire. All your actions were just selling coals to Newcastle whilst you weren’t willing to do the dirty work. I gave you a chance to prove your worth as the country was never devoid of scams and scandals. But you failed to show us who you were. I remain helpless in these hours of pain and agony. So are the billion others.
Request: Please stop condemning these acts of violence. I assume no Indian is elated about these happenings. WE DON’T NEED YOUR CONDOLENCES. WE DON’T WANT ANY EX-GRATIA. WE DON’T WANT TO TAKE IT ANYMORE.
Yours Faithlessly
Someone whose plea goes unnoticed yet again.
