You do believe in God, but there are few occasions when you realise and say – “It could never have happened without the blessings of the Almighty.”
There is one such unforgettable day that I would never forget in life. This day taught me the value of people only when you have fear of losing them.
It was a normal day – 29th October 2005. My wife had to buy and exchange few things from Sarojini Nagar Market, New Delhi. During those days, we were staying in Vasant Vihar, and Sarojini Nagar market was about 3-4 kilometre away.
I started from home at around 5.30 PM and dropped my wife in the market at around 5.45 PM. I had with me my 14 months old son, who was half asleep and I had left my daughter at home, who was 9 years old. While dropping my wife outside the market, I asked her to meet me near the flower-shop, after she was through with her shopping.
I reached home in next 15-20 minutes and opened the television as a normal practice. Suddenly my heart sank – I was shocked to hear the news about multiple bomb-blast in Sarojini Nagar market. I just could not believe. I banged the phone down, made my daughter stay at home, requested my neighbours to hold my son, and rushed to the Sarojini Nagar market.
By this time, there was huge traffic jam on the ring road. The road was completely blocked because of ambulances and fire brigades. The Police PCR standing nearby informed me that there was a huge blast and fire in Sarojini Nagar market and many people are feared dead. I was also asked not to go there.
Suddenly my voice started murmuring all the prayers.
Somehow, I could reach Sarojini Nagar Market by 7:00 PM. What I saw was unforgettable – Hundreds of people were carrying the injured ones, ambulances were sounding at highest peak, fire-brigades were rushing, policemen were controlling crowd and pulling people out, and shopkeepers were helping the rescue operation.
But, on the other side of the market, it was a complete silence and people were shopping normally. The shopkeepers were also not aware of the magnitude of the bomb-blast and were interpreting it as a normal fire.
Later, I came to know that the bomb-blast had happened at the fruit-chat shop, which was just a shop next to where my wife had to exchange some purchase. Generally, it takes about 15 minutes to reach that shop from the drop-point, and this time matched the horrific bomb-blast timing.
My blood started freezing and I started sinking.
The slippersthat I was wearing did not allow me to run, so I took them in my hands and ran towards the bomb-blast site. There was a huge fire and more than 20 shops had flattened due to bomb-blast. Policemen did not allow me to enter the main area of the bomb-blast. I had to literally fold my hands and beg for it. I sat down and started looking for belongings of my wife.
Ironically, I was searching for something, which I never wanted to find.
I was actually searching for not finding anything, which could identify with my wife’s presence here. But still, I was searching and kept searching till I was convinced that there was nothing that belonged to my wife.
But the question was – Where is she then? I started running in all parts of the market. I was running and shouting my wife’s name, but I could not hear her voice or could find her.
Since we had stayed in Sarojini Nagar for quite number of years, we knew most of the shopkeepers by face, if not by names. I was asking each and every shopkeeper if they had seen my wife.
My mind was getting exhausted. I was thinking – What will I do if something happened to her? How will I up-bring the children? What will I say to my children? Our son is just 14 months old and he cannot live without his mother? Not even once I thought about what would happens to me without her? Believe me, in just few minutes, I remembered everything from getting married till this day. I was scared – rather very scarred. Not finding her anywhere, I asked a policeman to tell me which hospital the injured have been taken, as I never wanted to even mention mortuary. He informed me that people have been taken to Safdarjung Hospital, and some to AIIMS and RML Hospital too.
Suddenly my daughter called me – “Papa 30 people are dead and more are expected”. She was crying profusely. I just told her to keep watching TV and keep the telephone lines free.
By now, while searching her in the market, I had reached the last shop of the market. The shop-keeper knew us very-well. I asked him – “Have you seen my wife? Did she visit you today?” And he said – “Bhaiya, Didi was here only when the fire broke out. She had to exchange one garment at my shop. She also asked me about what had happened and I told her that its some cylinder blast. Didi told me that she had to exchange slippers from one shop but then she dropped the exchange. I also advised her not to go there. Then she left.”
I hugged the shopkeeper and thanked him. I was sure now that at least she was not at the bomb-blast site, so she is safe. But where is she now?
I decided to again search for her on the other side of the market, as I had my car also parked there.
I was about 100 yards away from the road, when I saw my wife standing just 5-feet away from my car. She was carrying a usual leather bag in her hand and was asking someone for a mobile to call me up. I shouted her name and rushed towards her, and hugged her. When she saw me in shambles, sweating terribly and full of tears, she asked me as to what had happened? I asked her to first sit in the car and then told her about the entire story – the most dreaded bomb-blast.
Then I immediately called my daughter and told her that her mummy was safe and that we are reaching home in next 15-20 minutes.
My wife was looking normal yet confused, as probably she did not know the intensity of the bomb-blast. When I asked her as to why she did not call me, she informed that my mobile was continuously coming busy, and even the house phone was busy. And since the market was closing the shopkeepers were hesitant towards allowing phone calls.
When we reached home, my daughter hugged her and cried and cried. Many people came to see us and thanked God for her safe return. She was still confused as what was happening.
We had some water and tea and finally I opened the television again. That is when my wife realized, what she had missed – a certain death, if she had decided to exchange slippers from the very next shop where the blast had happened. It would have taken her exactly the same time to reach the exact site of the bomb-blast, if she had decided to exchange slippers first. It was only due to the blessing of the Almighty that she changed her shopping plan at the last moment and took a turn to the right side, and went to the farthest shop from the bomb-blast site – the very same shop where the shopkeeper had told me that she was here when the blast happened.
She kept watching TV for a long time and by night she was in high fever.
In the night my daughter did not leave her hand. As for me, in my subconscious mind, I was still running in the market to find her.
Somewhere I had read that if someone is too attached with the family, even if something happens to that person, the soul comes back and stays at-least for one night with the family.
I kept holding her hand whole night and kept convincing myself that she is alive, and that the ghosts don’t have skin. I didn’t sleep the whole night. I wanted to prove that the story of the visiting souls was wrong.
The sun also took time to shine but it was worth waiting. She was fine by the morning and we had tea together. We didn’t have heart to open television and see all that again.
Even today, when I am writing this, there is a fear – goosebumps.
We understand the values of people only ones when we have the fear of losing them. Life has its own ways of teaching.