THE DARK AND BLACK WEDNESDAY IN MUMBAI. Suddenly day dreamt a nightmare. Remember the day mumbai was attacked from the sea by terrorists. Well, my uncle, moms younger brother was staying at the Taj Mahal hotel. Every wednesday, if not oftener, gulshan and I would pay him a visit around 6 pm, sit in his room for an hour and a half and then go to watch a movie at Inox or Metro. That Terrible day or evening we met him and decided NOT to go to Inox and go home straight. Gulshan had some work. Thank god she had. When around 9 nish all hell broke loose, i was busy with my coins and gulshan with her laptop oblivious to what was happening. Our relatives and friends who knew about our wednesday evening schedule started ringing us up and first question was rointon where are you or gulshan where are you. My uncle was a permanent fixture at the Taj for many years. Almost every one who gave us a tinkle thought that we were at the Inox or worse at the taj dining with uncle. We gave up what we were doing and saw the blazing inferno. Gulshan kept on dialling the hotel and indubitably got no response from the front office but she could hear the bell ringing. As the night deepened and there was no response from uncle, we feared the worse. Gulshan was so agitated that she rang up the helplines, called our cablewalla and put up messages asking my uncle to contact us. I dozed off intermittently but gulshan did not sleep a wink. By morning we realized the gravity of the the situation. Still no answer about uncle. Gulshan sent new messages on various helplines and even contacted or managed to contact the colaba police whose reply did not help to assuage her disturbed feelings. Then I got the shock of my life. I received a telephone call from my uncle who asked me in a cool and composed voice whether things were okay or not. I shouted....where are you uncle, where are you. And in an irritated voice he said....ofcourse in my room at the taj. Has any thing happened he asked once again. I almost fainted. Dont you know that your hotel has been attacked by the terrorists ? I yelled. So that is what it is he said, again quite calmly. Then he told me that as usual at 9 - 30 am or so he went down for his breakfast but he said the lifts refused to come. Suffering cats and crocodiles I uttered...is this crony gone bonkers. Stay in your room i shouted. Take your passport with you and your loaded wallet and dont open the door unless they call out your name. As if i was talking or yelling to the walls as it were, he started telling me a story which went like this...... getting no response from the lift, he started climbing down the stairs. His room was on the 11th floor. He reached the ground floor and was unable to open the lobby door which the staff had locked as a security measure. Slowly he started climbing the 11 storeys, stumbled at the 1st and 2nd floor and after some time reached his 11th floor and barely managed to open his door. For gods sake do not open the door unless your name is called out. Gulshan grabbed the phone from my hand and took his promise that he would ring up every half an hour. He had a direct line so he could give us a ring but not vice versa. Then gulshan put the phone down and contacted the taj authorities stationed in another lane behind the taj. She tild them that her uncle was alive and kicking and that because he was hard of hearing and was on the 11th floor, they should holler their heart out and call him by his name. In the meantime every half an hour my uncle would give us a ring and when gulshan asked he would say that he prepared horlicks and ate an apple and was helping himself to a packet of biscuits. This half an hour phone continued till 1 pm. After that no more telephones from uncle. One of the two things could have happened...either the terrorists had got their bullseye or the commandoes had saved him. At 3-15 pm i saw my uncle being lifted by a commando and being placed in an ambulance. Gulshan saw it too. I took the help of my cousin and went to bombay hospital. Gulshan had found out by that time that all rescued persons, injured or otherwise, were first taken there. Then the police just would not let us go inside the hospital. Gulshan made such a big racket in her fluent english that a sub inspector wilted and asked a lady constable to accompany her while little me and my cousin were outside the hospital gates. In less than two minutes we saw gulshan coming back with a huge kolynos smile on her face talking over her mobile. To say that she found something funny as to break into a smile, puzzled me no end. She said she received a call from our maid that uncle was at our house eating lunch. Though puzzling, it was relief personified. When we reached home my uncle quite nonchallantly told us that beingtotally unhurt he was taken to the azad maidan police station wherein his passport was verified and he was sent home ......our place by the police in a cab. So ended a real and story of an 84 year old survivor of the Taj mahal attack.
Posted on: Thu, 11 Sep 2014 16:40:51 +0000
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