No Curfew On Bombay, Please

With all that Bombay has been through, I was still unprepared for the news—the sheer audacity of Wednesday night’s attacks. Bombay is going to suffer internationally for the next five to 10 years, was my first thought when I saw the news. It’s not merely a cricket tour being called off, but the inevitable perception that Bombay is now unsafe for foreign tourists and businessmen. This attack is very different from bombs going off in Jhaveri Baazar or the stock exchange, which were meant to shatter the morale of the ordinary Bombayite. Last night was intended to send a message to the world.

I stayed glued to the TV screen till 5.15 am. It was an especially poignant moment to watch the Taj go up in flames. The Taj has an emotional connection, especially for those of us in south Bombay. I’ve been closely associated with it since I was in advertising—been to the rooms which were now burning, to the dome, to the presidential suite. I’ve marvelled at its antiquity and structure. It’s not just a five-star hotel but is iconic for the values of old Bombay, where the best and brightest walked through its doors.

But what do last night’s events signify to the ordinary Bombayite? Psychologically, a lot, considering how the images have been playing out on TV for the last 24 hours. But practically, much less. After all, we’ve lived with the knowledge of unbridled, random acts of terror for at least five years now. And it has been far more traumatic to have been part of the blasts by an unseen electronic remote control hand than here, when you have real, live terrorists: you can see the enemy—hear him, at least—and you know, sooner or later, he’s going to be shot dead or apprehended.

Besides, this is terror targeted at the very rich and non-Indians. I mean, how many Indians go to Leopold’s? But when you had bomb blasts on trains, that was traumatic because you had the common man, already caught in inflation and corruption, now faced with terrorism on the streets. Wednesday’s events aren’t going to affect him in the same way: how many ordinary people actually walk into a five-star hotel?

At this point every single TV channel is asking: what can the ordinary person do? What can Bombay learn from this? What can the State do? Personally, I feel, nothing. Let’s face it: random acts of terror in a city of 90 million are bound to steal through the cracks, no matter what.

But there is something we can do: be extremely vigilant that these random acts of terror are not used by the government to bolt the stable after the horses have fled. Draconian laws, curbs on mobile phones, get home by 9 pm, sandbagging on roads, traffic reduced from a crawl to a halt—all this is unacceptable, and as a common citizen I will fight it till my last breath. Already we have stood patiently in line at airports, outside cricket stadia, and elsewhere. It has amounted to nothing. Some 25-30 young men have waltzed in with AK-47s and grenades, and had a blast. It is idiotic to believe that these security measures inconvenienced the terrorists. Of course they don’t. As common Bombayites, we can focus on how we’re going to live instead of when we’re going to die.

As told to Sheela Reddy