26/11: Struggling with grief, city also vents anger
MUMBAI: Sorrow, loss, cynicism, and anger: these were just some of the many emotions that swept the city on Thursday, the first anniversary of the fiyadeen-styled terror attacks that caught the country's security mechanism off guard. Even as Mumbaikars lit candles, painted walls and attended ceremonies, a majority were struggling with their grief and anger. Thursday morning's political debate in Parliament over the issue of compensation for the victims left a bad taste in many mouths.
"This is a time for them to score political brownie points. That was not today (Thursday). The debate was an insult to the memory of those who died a year ago,'' said IT professional Arun Chakravarthy.
The government's response in the bleak days following the attack did little to inspire the people, and the common view is that they have learned nothing from their past mistakes.
Like Chakravarthy, a number of citizens that TOI spoke to, were of the opinion that the anniversary was being used as a way to garner mileage. "Our politicians are out of touch with the sentiments of the public they are supposed to represent,'' said columnist Anil Dharker pointing out how "ministers lack a sense of occasion''. "BJP's Kirit Somaiya decided to go on a hungry strike and S S Ahluwalia was insensitive enough to ask what was special about 26/11 when attacks happen in Kashmir every day,'' Dharker added.
Demanding a strict code of conduct in Parliament, ad man Piyush Pandey said, "Instead of behaving with a sense of dignity and discussing the issue at hand, they create chaos. In the past, we've seen ministers hit each other, behave worse than school children in the House and get away with it. This shouldn't be allowed.''
The much-needed political unity after the attacks was missing. "And as if to rub salt on our wounds, the same home minister who said we were making a big deal and was removed because of his comments has been reinstated in the new government. No wonder Mumbai had a low voter turnout,'' said business student Rebecca Samuel.
Fact is that Mumbai is no alien to terror attacks. The 1993 bomb blasts and the 7/11 train have been part of our terror lexicon for many years now. But 26/11 was different; for the first time, Mumbai saw the faces of its attackers. "And we were defenceless,'' says Samuel who was evacuated by the staff of the Taj before the siege began on November 26.
It took 10 hours for the NSG to arrive, as there was no plane to transport them to Mumbai. Even when they landed, precious hours were wasted as no one had thought out the logistics of reaching them to the sites of the attack.
It's little wonder, then, that many do not feel safer. On Thursday, the state organised a parade to display its newly-acquired strength. Combat and rapid intervention vehicles jostled with amphibian marine craft on Marine Drive, even as the Force-one commandoes showcased their skills. And while everyone applauded this show of strength, it's done little to reassure citizens.
"Yes, it's a start. But on the other hand, metal detectors at stations and public spots lie forgotten,'' says student Pooja Mishra. Mumbai is too big a city, and a handful of underpaid policemen may not be sufficient is the common view. "It is impossible to check every other person,'' said Harish Iyer, who organised an impromptu movement, Chup Na Raho, on the footpath outside St Xavier's College in Dhobitalao. Groups of youngsters urged passers-by not to be "deaf, dumb and mute'' but express themselves. Soon, people stopped and started debating on issues that ranged from security to corruption. "At least we are talking. It's a start. Revolutions do not happen in day,'' said Iyer, who is of the opinion that people want to do something, and need an outlet to channelise their energy.
"Do I feel safe? Not really. Have things changed. Not really. Will I stop living? No way,'' said a 30-year-old Mumbaikar.
On Thursday night, candles and tributes dotted the cityscape - silent memorials in honour of the dead. But as long as the trial of Ajmal Amir Kasab continues, as long as the bodies of the nine terrorists lie embalmed in the morgue at J J Hospital, closure will elude many Mumbaikars, especially the victims and their families.
The government's response in the bleak days following the attack did little to inspire the people, and the common view is that they have learned nothing from their past mistakes.
Like Chakravarthy, a number of citizens that TOI spoke to, were of the opinion that the anniversary was being used as a way to garner mileage. "Our politicians are out of touch with the sentiments of the public they are supposed to represent,'' said columnist Anil Dharker pointing out how "ministers lack a sense of occasion''. "BJP's Kirit Somaiya decided to go on a hungry strike and S S Ahluwalia was insensitive enough to ask what was special about 26/11 when attacks happen in Kashmir every day,'' Dharker added.
Demanding a strict code of conduct in Parliament, ad man Piyush Pandey said, "Instead of behaving with a sense of dignity and discussing the issue at hand, they create chaos. In the past, we've seen ministers hit each other, behave worse than school children in the House and get away with it. This shouldn't be allowed.''
The much-needed political unity after the attacks was missing. "And as if to rub salt on our wounds, the same home minister who said we were making a big deal and was removed because of his comments has been reinstated in the new government. No wonder Mumbai had a low voter turnout,'' said business student Rebecca Samuel.
Fact is that Mumbai is no alien to terror attacks. The 1993 bomb blasts and the 7/11 train have been part of our terror lexicon for many years now. But 26/11 was different; for the first time, Mumbai saw the faces of its attackers. "And we were defenceless,'' says Samuel who was evacuated by the staff of the Taj before the siege began on November 26.
It took 10 hours for the NSG to arrive, as there was no plane to transport them to Mumbai. Even when they landed, precious hours were wasted as no one had thought out the logistics of reaching them to the sites of the attack.
It's little wonder, then, that many do not feel safer. On Thursday, the state organised a parade to display its newly-acquired strength. Combat and rapid intervention vehicles jostled with amphibian marine craft on Marine Drive, even as the Force-one commandoes showcased their skills. And while everyone applauded this show of strength, it's done little to reassure citizens.
"Yes, it's a start. But on the other hand, metal detectors at stations and public spots lie forgotten,'' says student Pooja Mishra. Mumbai is too big a city, and a handful of underpaid policemen may not be sufficient is the common view. "It is impossible to check every other person,'' said Harish Iyer, who organised an impromptu movement, Chup Na Raho, on the footpath outside St Xavier's College in Dhobitalao. Groups of youngsters urged passers-by not to be "deaf, dumb and mute'' but express themselves. Soon, people stopped and started debating on issues that ranged from security to corruption. "At least we are talking. It's a start. Revolutions do not happen in day,'' said Iyer, who is of the opinion that people want to do something, and need an outlet to channelise their energy.
"Do I feel safe? Not really. Have things changed. Not really. Will I stop living? No way,'' said a 30-year-old Mumbaikar.
On Thursday night, candles and tributes dotted the cityscape - silent memorials in honour of the dead. But as long as the trial of Ajmal Amir Kasab continues, as long as the bodies of the nine terrorists lie embalmed in the morgue at J J Hospital, closure will elude many Mumbaikars, especially the victims and their families.
