AloneIt was a normal Saturday evening at the market I pass through everyday. The old road pockmarked with ditches resembles the moon with its craters. With all its ditches, it looks all the more beautiful to me. The pavement full of vendors selling everything you can dream of. Stuff that makes a poor man’s house look rich. The bridge which is not  as big as the Brooklyn Bridge  but is an old one with the railing coming off  and the river flowing beneath it half filled with the waste from the daily market. The big old trees, which my grandfather used to say, he and his friends planted to make our colony greener. The old school, which is still holding fort and helping many students graduate each year to the next level. The convenient division, with half of the children studying and the other half helping these guys study by selling stationary on the other side of the wall, still working smoothly. Most of the shops around the market sell cosmetic stuff for women. For every nine shops selling women’s cosmetic products there is one shop which sells every commodity men need to survive in this world. The irony being that all the women’s shops are no bigger than a small room and one men’s shop is at least two to three rooms big.

I was coming back after meeting my friends and having a hell of a good time. The day had started on a good note and I as usual never gave any thought to how the remaining day would be. As is common, we never ponder upon our day but go along expecting all good things to happen. I was in my own world talking and singing to myself. I had almost reached the bridge when I had a strange feeling that something wasn’t right. The feeling that makes you look at all the things in a rather suspicious manner.

But nothing seemed to be different. The same market. The same vendors. The same hellos. The same bridge. The same buzz. And the  same me. But still there was a strange and strong feeling that seized my heart in a big way making it weak with fear, anxiety and hope. I could not understand what was happening to me. I looked around and could see a girl coming my way and I soon figured out that she was no normal girl. A girl with beautiful eyes, long hair, an hourglass figure and seductive looks. On any normal day I would have tried to befriend her or tried to start a conversation. But that day I could not get any feelings for her. I wore a look that clearly indicated to her that I was not interested. She went away giving me a sympathetic look. Suddenly, my mind shrieked and it came to me as a big bolt. “Am I becoming Gay? Was this what Ankit was talking to me about?” I looked at other boys and I was praying all that time that I should not generate any feeling for them. I was happy I did not.

With the biggest sigh of relief of my life I went on walking, this time more slowly than ever, pondering over the reactions happening in my mind, heart, body and each and every cell which until then was inert to any feelings of this type. I was getting more worried by the minute and it was very evident on my face. I reached the busiest of the market taking each step slowly. It felt as though I was on a minefield, afraid, one wrong step might blow me up to pieces, beyond recognition.

“Kya saab, kuch praablem hai kya?” the vegetable vendor asked me. (Is there any problem, sir?). I looked at him for a couple of seconds and asked him, “Kaisa hai aaj market? Sab theek to hai na?” (“How is the market today? Is everything alright?”)
“Haan. Dhandha zabardast chal raha hai. Aaj to main soch raha hoon abhi ghar jaake apni waali ke saath ghoomne jaun,” he answered.
“Kya baat hai yaar? Bahar-E-Ishq.”
“Kya saab?”
“Ishq ka mausam chal raha hai aajkal.” I said.
“Haan saab. Apni waali se bahut mohhabbat karta hoon main. Sirf apni waali se sahab. Aur kisise nahin. Ma kasam”, he tried to look honest and he was blushing.
“Maine kab kaha ki tu doosri waali se bhi pyar karta hain? Kyun. Karta hai kya?”
“Nahi saab. Maa kasam. Mere baap ki bhi kasam,” he reacted with a look of pious horror on his face.
“Acha chodh. Jaldi jao. Warna der ho jayegi tumhe.”
“Kuch sabzi logey saab?”
“Nahin.”
“Acha saab.”

I went on with my slow walk being happy about the talk but somehow could not get that feeling out of my system. I thought there might be something wrong with my health. I passed the temple and for the first time I involuntarily stopped, removed my shoes and prayed to God. I wished everything would go on well at least till I reached home. I knew I was being selfish but I couldn’t help it. I wore my shoes and started to go when Sharma uncle came and gave me some prashad.

“All the best for your exams, beta”, he said.

“Thanks uncle.”

“Ramu is going to the US on Thursday. Why don’t you come to see him? You both have been good friends for a long time. What happened to you both? Why are you not talking? Wait. Ramu will be coming. I will settle the matter here itself.”

“No, uncle. Let it be. We will settle it ourselves.”

“No. Wait. We will do it in front of the temple of…”

A large chunk of metal flew past us making us sense its speed and heat. We were thrown away by the impact. A few seconds later I could hear a deafening blast which made my ears scream with pain. Tears ran down my eyes due to the heat and my skin was itching and burning at the same time. I was in a daze for a few seconds with my brain not able to send me signals to see, hear or feel what was going on around me. The impact had benumbed me for a few seconds. When I recovered, I could barely stand and see what was going on. There was smoke, fire, water, blood, bodies and shouts. Utter Chaos! I looked for Sharma uncle and he was nowhere to be seen. I thought he might have died. I suddenly thought of Ramu and his US trip. I could not understand why I thought about that trip at that moment. I stumbled upon many things I could barely recognize. The place was reeking of smoke, blood, flesh and decomposed material. I thought I would vomit.

It was more than five minutes later that I started to get used to the chaos when something very hard hit me on my back. There were two more explosions. I fell to the ground with great force. My breath had been knocked out of me and I felt as if I was about to die. A guy came up and helped me up. A killing pain shot through my head. It was spinning. Some one gave me a glass of water and I do not know how many glasses later I started feeling better.

“Kaise ho saab?” the voice said.

I could not answer but knew the voice. I tried to answer by nodding my head but it was paining. I became delirious. I vomited. I regained a little bit of consciousness after that and I could see the vegetable vendor trying to lift me up and place me on a charpoy. Ramu! Suddenly I thought about what would have happened to Ramu. I tried to get up but was forced to sit down. I tried to explain but words had deserted me. I feared I might have lost my voice. I struggled a little and all I could say was, “Something hit me….”

I was informed that it was a body that had hit me.
Whose body?” I asked
“Don’t know. Beyond recognition,” someone answered me.
“Oh my God!”

The vendor went away to help more people. I sat there counting minutes and analyzing my stability. Five. Ten. Fifteen. After about fifteen minutes I got up and looked around again to see if I could recognize anyone. All the time I was hoping I would not find Ramu’s body and even if I found it accidentally I hoped I did not recognize it. I slowly stepped over each and every body. There were people shouting. The police were trying to control everyone. Ambulance siren. Cries. Shouts of pain. Suffering. Swearing. Praying to God.

I was shocked when I had my first glimpse of the market after the blast. Was this the market I love so much? Was this the market, which was always filled with hellos and smiles? Was this the same market, which I thought was beautiful? It wasn’t so any more.

My eyes filled with tears and I could not stop them. I did not want to cry but tears just rolled down my cheeks falling on the debris.

“Holy God! Thank God you are safe.”

I turned around to see Ramu’s face full of ash and blood. He was trying to talk to me and control his tears. I hugged him. I cried. We both cried. We cried for our market and also ourselves. We cried for peace. We cried for our friendship.

“Sharma uncle?” I asked.

“He’s safe. He is in the temple nursing people. He is hurt a little though.”

Temple? God? Why did I have to stop today to pray when I never did that ever in my lifetime? Did God himself save me? Should I start believing in him? Is he there? Had he taken the form of Sharma uncle who gave me prashad?

I could not answer these questions. I was confused. I was weak. I did not want to answer them. At least for now.

“Come. Let’s help other people,” Ramu said.

We helped the police and the ambulance guys in giving first aid to many children, women, girls and men. Some of them had lost their legs. Some hands. Some of them were horribly bruised. Some were totally naked. Some were dizzy. But many were dead. Their bodies hung limply while being carried to the van. I could not think of anything. Everything was just happening and I was going with it.

We worked endlessly for three hours and could finally finish with all the things. We came and sat down. I again had a look at my market. Our market. It had changed in a couple of minutes. The same old road with ditches was carpeted with water and blood. The same old pavement was full of rubble. There was no rich and poor now. The river was still flowing under the bridge, which had stood the impact of the explosion. The railing had become a little slacker than what it had been. The big old trees were still green, even in the dark. The same old school looked as if nothing had happened.

Sharma uncle was still nursing the patients. Media persons with numerous questions thronged the market. As for me, I still could not figure out, who that hot girl was and why I did not react to her.

It was nine when Ramu and I relaxed to have a cup of tea at Gopal’s teashop, which was half burnt.

“Kya be, tu aaj chai muft main de raha hai? Kahan gaya woh kanjoos Gopal?”, Ahmed the mechanic joked.

A few of them tried to laugh.

* * *

The vegetable vendor whose name I still do not know could not go out with his love but would be happy he is with her. Ramu and I have come closer than before, without any effort. May be the issue was settled in front of the temple.  I do not know whether the ratio of studying and non-studying students is still equal. The shops have declined in number. Everything is the same but somehow the market isn’t the same and the way I see it isn’t the same either. The way I look at it now has a few bruised memories to it.

Yours Always,