Bullets With No Names

In his eerie message, Cho said, "You had a hundred billion chances and ways to have avoided today. But you decided to spill my blood. You forced me into a corner and gave me only one option. Now you have blood on your hands that will never wash off." He railed against the rich: "You had everything you wanted. Your Mercedes wasn't enough, you brats. Your golden necklaces weren't enough, you snobs. Your trust fund was not enough. Your vodka and cognac weren't enough. All your debaucheries weren't enough. Those weren't enough to fulfil your hedonistic needs. You had everything." The package also include several photographs of Cho posing and pointing handguns at the camera.

His roommate Karan Grewal told a TV channel that Cho seldom showed any emotion. His professors and classmates describe him as a "mean" and "creepy" man who stalked women and wrote horrific plays depicting graphic violence. The killings have reopened debate in the US on the need for stricter gun laws.

Apart from Minal, the other Indian killed in the carnage was Dr G.V. Loganathan, a professor of civil and environmental engineering. He was slain while teaching a class in advanced hydrology at Norris Hall. David F. Kibler had been friends with "GV" for 17 years. "There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for you," Kibler told Outlook. When Kibler started teaching, he would sit through Loganathan's classes to pick up tips. "He was a master-teacher," he recalled. "He had a natural touch. Students gravitated toward him." An IIT Kanpur alumnus, Loganathan's popularity with students was evident—he won the dean's award for excellence in teaching in 1998 and the outstanding faculty award in 2001.

Four days before the killing, Kibler had a lengthy discussion with Loganathan about a PhD student in need of financial support. "GV was always willing to help people—that was the Loganathan approach," said Kibler. Despite their many years of friendship, Kibler said at times he felt he hardly knew his friend. "He was a very private person. I don't know his two daughters, not even their names, and have only seen his widow half-a-dozen times. A very private couple, it was tough to get them to social events." For Kibler, the tragedy extends beyond the loss of his friend. Loganathan was teaching a class of 13 students when Cho struck. Nine students were killed. Kibler knew them all. "I have never faced a tragedy of this magnitude," he said.

Prof Adil Godrej had known GV for 25 years, and even had his office across the hall from Loganathan's in the 1980s. Godrej told Outlook, "What drew me to him, besides everything else, of course, was that he's a fellow Indian. He was a gentleman, very kind-hearted." The carnage has become a nightmare for Godrej, who knew two other students who were killed. "One moment you can think straight, the next you don't know what to do. I haven't been able to sleep properly. Images of Norris Hall from my days as a student there keep haunting me."

Virginia Tech's Indian student population—roughly 600—has rallied in support of the victims' families. Ajitpal Singh Raina, a master's student in industrial and systems engineering, heads the varsity's Indian Students Association. Raina shared a common bond with Minal—both are from Mumbai. "Minal was one of our friends," Raina told Outlook. "She had a charming personality."

Minal's mother was visiting family in New Jersey when she was summoned to Blacksburg. Minal had not been heard of since the shooting, and her friends, including Raina, had been trying desperately to get in touch with her. As Minal's mother made the traumatic journey, dozens of Indian students kept vigil at the Inn at Virginia Tech where authorities were providing information on the victims. They waited through the night and then helped the distraught family the next morning. "We are a close-knit community," said Raina. "We can't change what has happened, so we must be united."

The enormity of the tragedy is just about beginning to sink in. Cortes described Blacksburg as a safe town, and called the massacre a bolt from the blue. "We don't lock our doors, our cars —but this has turned everything upside down," he said. Virginia Tech will never be the same. Ever again.