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A Wall In My Brain And A Wall On Your Head, Mr Chidambaram

By Nawaz Gul Qanungo

30 November, 2010
Kashmir Times

It was Friday, November 26, 2010. Exactly two years since 26/11 happened in Mumbai. And thus said Hindustan Times: Mihir Ganatra had firmly held his beer mug as he tapped his foot in resilience to a live band playing at the Leopold Cafe in Colaba. Thirteen years ago, the 29-year-old event manager had his first drink at the restrobar. On Friday, he was back at the café to express solidarity and pay homage to the memory of 11 people who died when two terrorists sprayed the café with bullets on November 26, 2008. “The nostalgia is obvious,” Ganatra said. His latest post on Facebook read, “Mr Terrorist, if you visit Leopold Café today, the beer bong will hit you harder.”

By late evening, the café staff barely had any space to move between the tables as young people of different nationalities thronged the venue “that has become an iconic post of the city’s bloodiest terror strike,” HT wrote. The graffiti boards placed at the entrance had very little white space left. Visitors and passersby had scribbled for those “who failed to go back to their families on the same day two years ago.”

“I feel lucky to be here on such a historic day,” said Evan Betti, an Argentinean tourist who was passing by the café and knew little about the terror attacks. Betti and other visitors also lit candles at the entrance. Several others stood outside the café straining to hear the live bands that played tributes to those who died and to the city that stood resilient after the attacks. “I have seen Friday night crowds. But this is something else,” said a steward. Visitors at the restaurant stood up and observed a minute’s silence for the victims earlier in the evening.

On November 26th in the year 2008, the city of Mumbai was held hostage in a deadly, extraordinary terror strike that lasted nearly three days and killed more than 170. This Friday, on the second anniversary of the attack, people came to hold firmly their beer mug and tap their feet in resilience. And for those who knew little about the terror attack, this Friday night crowd was something else. Eleven people had been killed at the Leopold.

Kanika Saxena and her two friends managed to convince the police to let them inside the cordoned off area around Taj Mahal Palace. It was the same day, Friday, and Kanika and her friends wanted to pray for those killed in the terror attacks. HT: The trio stood on the pavement at the hotel’s back entrance with folded hands and said a silent prayer. But before they could light candles, the police asked them to vacate the area. Wearing a deserted look, the area around Taj hotel and the Gateway of India resembled a fortress with security around the 1.5-km radius. “Though we lost no one we knew in the attacks, the trauma is still fresh in our minds. We came here to pray for their souls,” Saxena said.

The hotel held a private memorial service. Thirty-six had been killed at the Taj.

Indian home minister Palaniappan Chidambaram addressed a function organised to award the dealership of a CNG outlet to the family of assistant sub-inspector Tukaram Ombale. Ombale was killed while intercepting Mohammad Ajmal Amir Kasab, the lone survivor among the ten attackers.

“If it was not for Tukaram Ombale and his bravery in apprehending Ajmal Kasab, Indians would not have been able to expose that the plan of the attacks was hatched on the soil of Pakistan and this fact was brought in open for the world to know,” he said.

The minister went further: “Our neighbour Pakistan made many promises to us that they will bring to justice the masterminds, controllers and handlers of the 26/11 tragedy. They have not done so, so far. They promised me they will arrest all the seven persons whose names I had handed over to them. They have not done that so far. They promised me, they will provide voice samples of the persons whose names are handed over. They have not done so far … It is my duty to caution the people that we have a neighbour who has not yet fulfilled the promises it made to us.”

Ah, these words! Promises. And Justice. Chidambaram could have easily borrowed the words of Syed Ali Shah Geelani. Words that he had spoken exactly a week before: Jo qaum qurbaniyan dekar un qurbaniyon ki hifaazat karna jaane, usko dunya ki koi taaqat shikast nahi de sakti. “A nation that knows how to preserve the sacrifices that it makes... no power of the world can overwhelm such a nation.”

“So, this Friday, on the 26th of November,” Geelani had said, “For the first time, as a beginning, we shall build a symbol in Srinagar, a symbol in remembrance of our martyrs. After the [Friday] prayers, we shall go there – to Eidgah – Allah willing. Everybody must bring a brick each, and we shall lay a foundation.” For, we have more than three lakh Kashmiri Hindus who left their homes behind in one tragic departure, and we don’t know exactly why and how. For, we have countless daughters, sisters, mothers, grandmothers and some entire villages raped and gang-raped by Indian forces during the last twenty years. For, we have mothers who have waited for two decades and wondered if their missing sons would return to meet them first or the angels of death. Death has – and it seems it will to most – arrived but not their sons. For, we have thousands who saw their dear ones killed in front of them and left to live a life of insanity, forever, if it all they survived. They stare at nothing with startled eyes, even today, crowding the corridors of Kashmir’s only “mental” hospital. For, we don’t know if the number of dead in the valley during the last 20 years has crossed the hundred-thousand mark or not just yet. For, we have buried more than a hundred young children just this year, Indian bullets still inside their tender bodies.

Last Friday, police in Srinagar seized a truckload of bricks near Eidgah presuming they were brought for the construction of the memorial at Eidgah. It turned out it was meant for construction of a house nearby.

Last Friday, millions stared in depression at yet another curfew in the ugly jail of a beautiful vale.

Last Friday, millions built a wall brick by brick, inside their brains. The one that’s on your head, Mr Chidambaram.

And last Friday, someone firmly held his beer mug and tapped his feet in resilience in Mumbai.

The writer is a Srinagar-based jurnalist. Follow him at www.drqanungo.blogspot.com