For once procrastination turned into a blessing!
Mum keeps telling me time and time again not to put off things. A stich in time save nine, Do today what you would put off till tomorrow ....repeated refrains from all quarters beg , entreat and threaten , hoping to cure my habit of putting off things.
But not yesterday.
Home alone , and tired of survivng on maggi, bread, upma and other delicious but instant food , I promised myself a homecooked dinner and was readying to walk across to the local market to buy some veggies.
Hello
"ARe you ok?"
Apart from a lazy temprament,everything else seems ok
"Which world do you live in. Switch on the TV immediately. There has been a series of bomb blasts. Several people injured and dead. Where are you? Get back immediately. There is a red alert on in Delhi."
PCR vanswith flashing lights race down the otherwise quite neighbourhood, fire brigades and ambulances follow in tow. The lazy Saturday evening atmosphere is shaken up. Neighbours start filtering out, forming huddles, gesticulating, talking whispering.
Friends, colleagues, nodding term acquaintainces, a frien who had stoppd talking to me, four months ago,All call up.
I have NEVERfelt so important in my life.
Every pore of my journo body wanted to be where the scene of action was. Forget the story! Somebody was already taking care of that. What happened ?
Nothing doing, You get back inside right now.!!
Yes! I scurried inside. but I can sulk can't I?
My phone keeps ringing. I reassure them all. With a prayer on my lips, I finally crash at 12 pm.
Untill Sunday when I get to see TV footage and the pictures in the newspaper.
The grief, terror, helplessness, vulnerability. The wounded, the panic-stricken, they definetly do not deserve this!

They were a pretty pair.
The man in offwhite kurta pyjamas and a cane to support
himself. Beside him his wife, bespectacled, wearing an old
saree, somewhat dusty held on to his free arm. Lending support
or just leaning onto him, you could'nt make out.
The duo, visibly tired, shuffled in the subway inching
their steps aided by the siderail. Where were they headed?
Crossing them, one failed to notice the details but they made
certain to scrutinise the ogler in me.
"Hey girl? whats your problem ?" Four pairs of eyes
questioned with a stare.
Do they have children who are married? Do they have
grandchildren of whom they are proud? Why were they travelling
alone? questions spinning in my mind.
One look and "Dignity" was stamped over them in big bold
letters. Age may perhaps have slowed them down but not bent
them.
At the end of my walk I turned around to catch one last
glimpse and they were still ambling along.
Why do i write about them? Dont ask me.
As I race to catch my bus to morning work. I come across
numerous individuals. All stories in themselves, Some in the
subway and others on the sidewalks.
For over a year now, the second stop from mine, a young
girl-a student at a polytechnic here waited for her bus in the
company of a young boy.
Apart from her blue salwar kameez uniform there was
nothing to indicate her identity. The pair, obviously head
over heels in love were a permanant fixture. She would stand
and beside her he would sit on the silver rail and talk and
laugh. On days that I did not see them, I would grow anxious.
Oftentimes, I'd see only the boy, craning his neck when my
buis stopped to see if "she" was on it. She apparently took a
bus to this stop and than I presume they would go together to
their respective destinations.
She was pretty but waiting behind her was her friend,
sister, classmate... somebody in a similar salwar kameez.
Perhaps accompanying the duo. Always alone, always proud and
always making a wry mocking face at the duo. Perhaps, she did
not approve of the pair, perhaps she was annoyed...
But as my bus navigated the curvaceous and beautiful
flyover I readied to have a glimpse of the pair. They were my
timecheck too. I'll miss them if I was late.
But suddenly one day they were gone. I looked again the
next day and the next and the next. Even now, i involuntarily
turn and look as my bus speeds past the stop. No luck. The
other girl still arrives at as usual settling down with the
same smirk or smugness to her expression.
Where are they? I long to ask the girl. But lack of time or
rather the more obvious risk of being brushed off deter me.
Where are they? I sure miss them.