Platitudes....
.... come pouring in from across the world. Leaders pledging support and handing out severe condemnation for this dastardly conspiracy. Democracy shall prevail. Our prayers with your families. Strange. 16 years on, with rampant terrorism in country being relegated to a domestic issue (not a serious terrorist threat), blatantly ignored by the West, a blind eye towards threat of the Lashkar e Toiba, and now tea and sympathy for all. Since US and British citizens seem to have been targeted, it must have been an international conspiracy. They used inflatable rubber dinghies. How very Bond. Definitely international.
My heart bleeds
for my poor, poor city. It's devastating to see her broken and bloody remains. And the Beeb is banging on about not just the carnage, but the damage to India's self esteem abroad. Self esteem?? Pain has no ego. The stupid bitch reporting for them in Bombay thinks people are out for the morning walks because they're just not aware of the magnitude of what's happened, or maybe they're misinformed. Daft cow. This city always carries on. Even if it's just driven by a morbid curiosity. Even when there is no respite from the sound of gunfire at the Oberoi. Shots fired outside the Taj. The beginning of the end? Curfew has been declared.
The faces of terror
As those bastards are so quaintly referred to by NDTV. Shockingly clear photographs. Young men, oh so young, resembling truant college students. 10 ruthless assaults across the city. Over a 100 dead, including 11 policemen, some of them our finest, and over a 300 hostages (possibly more) stuck inside their hotel rooms and surrounding buildings. With virtual studio portraits of the escaped terrorists, it's time for an all out manhunt. This is oh so personal now. Every single location hit, a familiar haunt, familiar names. Less than six degrees of separation.
Now the focus is on the Oberoi. Familiar images of where I've parked my car so many times. The entrance to India Jones (the ultimate clue linking Trident to apna Oberoi!), a regular haunt for Mim & Rahul. Glimpses of the plate glass shielding the lusciously comfortable sofas, perfect for an late afternoon/early evening indulgence overlooking the bay, with the mellifluous strains of the trio washing over you. Stark images of swathes of blood among abandoned luggage at VT, more blood amidst shattered glass and crippled tables at Leopold, the bastion of affordable succour to Bombay's college students and mealy mouthed tourists.
If she says another of the cities fucking landmarks, I will scream. We get it! Why the Cama hospital? I understand the Taj & Oberoi... no one's even talking about Cama. But hey, when we do remember to mention it, let's not forget it's one of the cities landmarks!! Maybe the tea wasn't such a good idea. Schools and colleges will remain closed. As will the stock market. Silver lining??
Now the focus is on the Oberoi. Familiar images of where I've parked my car so many times. The entrance to India Jones (the ultimate clue linking Trident to apna Oberoi!), a regular haunt for Mim & Rahul. Glimpses of the plate glass shielding the lusciously comfortable sofas, perfect for an late afternoon/early evening indulgence overlooking the bay, with the mellifluous strains of the trio washing over you. Stark images of swathes of blood among abandoned luggage at VT, more blood amidst shattered glass and crippled tables at Leopold, the bastion of affordable succour to Bombay's college students and mealy mouthed tourists.
If she says another of the cities fucking landmarks, I will scream. We get it! Why the Cama hospital? I understand the Taj & Oberoi... no one's even talking about Cama. But hey, when we do remember to mention it, let's not forget it's one of the cities landmarks!! Maybe the tea wasn't such a good idea. Schools and colleges will remain closed. As will the stock market. Silver lining??
A new dawn...
... and the die hard step out for their morning walk. How can you not love this city? Auckland, Hong Kong, London, New York - we're all here, keeping vigil. The calm before the storm. It feels like the worst is over. Daylight does that. It's a beautiful building, the Taj, and the flames finally seem to be out. Dear God. I can hear the crows over the reporter. Infuriating, raucous, up all night scavengers. How can you possibly miss that sound?? There are over 100 people still in the building, possibly more. Near 50 hostages between the Cama hospital, Oberoi and Taj. Gunshots, reminiscent of diwali patakas, break the lull. The worst is yet to come.
Doel on chat - her closest friend's father, Hemant Karkare, Chief of the Anti Terrorist Squad, shot. A sense of the unreal, as a voice over the NDTV stream, flows over my shocked banality..."5 of Mumbai's most decorated policemen, dead. Hemant Karkare, Chief, ATS". Apparently, he believed in leading from the front. Shot 3 times in the chest. Take no prisoners. Eradicate the Deccan Mujahideen. It's the least we can do for him.
Doel on chat - her closest friend's father, Hemant Karkare, Chief of the Anti Terrorist Squad, shot. A sense of the unreal, as a voice over the NDTV stream, flows over my shocked banality..."5 of Mumbai's most decorated policemen, dead. Hemant Karkare, Chief, ATS". Apparently, he believed in leading from the front. Shot 3 times in the chest. Take no prisoners. Eradicate the Deccan Mujahideen. It's the least we can do for him.
Catharsis
Have to confess, that our mauling of the appalling reportage on NDTV which has now reached farcical proportions, has been rather cathartic. Khush is almost hysterical with the giggles, and I'm feeling slightly less wound up. The lastest gem, a couple of over enthusiastic young, badly spoken reporters attaching themselves with abandon to someone 'rescued' from the Oberoi. A strapping young man, who in response to their excited yapping, "tell us why you were inside the hotel", "what's your good name?""where are you from?"... Ross from Sydney informs them in a sexily pitched, well modulated voice that he was out before the cops came in, more than a couple of hours ago, an answer which results in 17 seconds of dead air time from the clueless microphone brigade.
The fun looked set for a spoiling when the yappy team was replaced by a more articulate woman, able to ask coherent questions and listen...till her emotions got the better of her and she went on about the landmark Taj hotel, one of the oldest buildings in Mumbai and even in India....???? We spawned Mohenjodaro and Harappa and now 1903 is the oldest edifice we have on order? I can hear Humayun spinning like a shwarma in his tomb.
There is a reason for everything. This is why India is such a wonderful civilisation, and why we shall prevail. Resistance is futile.
The fun looked set for a spoiling when the yappy team was replaced by a more articulate woman, able to ask coherent questions and listen...till her emotions got the better of her and she went on about the landmark Taj hotel, one of the oldest buildings in Mumbai and even in India....???? We spawned Mohenjodaro and Harappa and now 1903 is the oldest edifice we have on order? I can hear Humayun spinning like a shwarma in his tomb.
There is a reason for everything. This is why India is such a wonderful civilisation, and why we shall prevail. Resistance is futile.
Gunfire at OK Corral
This is just surreal. Terrorists running amok, racing between the two wings, with the army firing indiscriminately. I have no objection to indiscriminate fire, as long as it generates dead bodies of terrorists, but seems like 2 of them are holed up somewhere in the hotels plush and cavernous facilities.
I'm too upset to be civil, and I've already bitten off Taks' head without much provocation, so will turn my attention to some of these alleged reporters instead. "Big gunshots from one of the rooms coming out....". Surely we have a plethora of regional channels they can be reporting for in a language they're comfortable in? I miss All India Radio. They had class. Knew their business, were taught voice modulation, had impeccable diction, pitch and accents, understood the difference between reportage and rambling. I believe they still do. The last bastion of civilised India. AIR. Maybe I should move to Jhumritalia.
Gunshots. Full out gunfire at the hotels. It's just bizarre. Police 'encounters' no longer the domain of Mumbai's vast and seamy underworld. Why we call it an encounter is beyond me. Khush raises an interesting point - 100 people were rescued from within the Taj, what about the other 2,000 that usually fester on the premises? Oh brilliant. The petrol pump at Colaba causeway has been blown up, and there are a couple of terrorists possibly holed up in the building behind, and obligingly shot two men in the vicinity. Next to the petrol pump is where Arjan's cut piece shop is, next to Blue Haven salon and Bindra tailor. One lane north of Kailash Parbat, the home of pani puri made from bisleri and other delicacies, where they'll happily deliver an order for Rs.12.
Another terrorist down. A grand total of 5. Several more to go. Speculation suggests that the goal was to cripple tourism, thusly the high profile targets and taking of foreigners as hostages. And this will help their cause how?? One presumes a career in terrorism is a handy solution to congenital stupidity. As my co-contributor says, when brains were being handed out by the almighty, these guys must have reached out with chai channis (tea strainers). Seems like the current crop of TV reporters were in the same queue with colanders, "clearly things are all happening right there...." from a reporter at the Taj. What perspicacity.
I'm too upset to be civil, and I've already bitten off Taks' head without much provocation, so will turn my attention to some of these alleged reporters instead. "Big gunshots from one of the rooms coming out....". Surely we have a plethora of regional channels they can be reporting for in a language they're comfortable in? I miss All India Radio. They had class. Knew their business, were taught voice modulation, had impeccable diction, pitch and accents, understood the difference between reportage and rambling. I believe they still do. The last bastion of civilised India. AIR. Maybe I should move to Jhumritalia.
Gunshots. Full out gunfire at the hotels. It's just bizarre. Police 'encounters' no longer the domain of Mumbai's vast and seamy underworld. Why we call it an encounter is beyond me. Khush raises an interesting point - 100 people were rescued from within the Taj, what about the other 2,000 that usually fester on the premises? Oh brilliant. The petrol pump at Colaba causeway has been blown up, and there are a couple of terrorists possibly holed up in the building behind, and obligingly shot two men in the vicinity. Next to the petrol pump is where Arjan's cut piece shop is, next to Blue Haven salon and Bindra tailor. One lane north of Kailash Parbat, the home of pani puri made from bisleri and other delicacies, where they'll happily deliver an order for Rs.12.
Another terrorist down. A grand total of 5. Several more to go. Speculation suggests that the goal was to cripple tourism, thusly the high profile targets and taking of foreigners as hostages. And this will help their cause how?? One presumes a career in terrorism is a handy solution to congenital stupidity. As my co-contributor says, when brains were being handed out by the almighty, these guys must have reached out with chai channis (tea strainers). Seems like the current crop of TV reporters were in the same queue with colanders, "clearly things are all happening right there...." from a reporter at the Taj. What perspicacity.
Cruising terrorists?
They got here by boat. Alighted at the Gateway of India. Just like King George V and Queen Mary in 1911. How charmingly decadent.
As Khush says, hating terrorists is hungry work. Seems to be ages since either of us ate last. Time to forage for sustance to prop up our vigil through my night and his dawn. Spicy, oily bhurji, lightly toasted pao/bun maska and garam chai (I use the word chai with a great deal of poetic license. Gently brewed second flush makaibari). Fit for a true Mumbaikar, at the last bastions of Irani restaurants, Stadium restaurant.
As Khush says, hating terrorists is hungry work. Seems to be ages since either of us ate last. Time to forage for sustance to prop up our vigil through my night and his dawn. Spicy, oily bhurji, lightly toasted pao/bun maska and garam chai (I use the word chai with a great deal of poetic license. Gently brewed second flush makaibari). Fit for a true Mumbaikar, at the last bastions of Irani restaurants, Stadium restaurant.
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