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Three Mistakes Of My Life Part 28

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Are trains ever on time?' Mama's loud voice interrupted us while we were at work. Ish dragged out a heavy box of wickets from the G.o.down.

'Mama, you here so early?' Omi said.

Mama kept two pink paper boxes on the wicket box. He had a tikka from the morning prayers on his forehead.

'I had bought hot kachoris for my son and other sevaks. Their train was supposed to reach at 5 a.m. But it is five hours late. Now what to do? Thought I will have them with you,' Mama said and took out a kachori.

'So leftover breakfast for us?' Omi said and laughed.



'They are absolutely fresh. I'll get more when they come. Eat them while they are still hot, come Ish, Govind,' Mama said.

'Didn't know you boys come here so early,' Mama said. The shop's clock said eight o' clock.

'Had some work in the G.o.down,' I said and took a bite of a kachori. It tasted delicious.

We ordered tea and sat on the stools outside the shop.

Mama talked to Omi about their relatives. Ish and I discussed the delivery plan for the day. The shop didn't open until nine. We could eat in peace.

'Third round of tea? Ok? Yeah good,' Mama said and called for the tea-boy again. I had two kachoris and felt full.

Mama stood up to leave at 9.30 a.m. I wrapped the boxes back for him.

'Keep them,' Mama said, 'I'll get more anyway.'

'No Mama, we have had enough...'

Mama's phone ring interrupted me. Mama picked up the phone. His face became serious. His mouth opened and his eyes darted around.

'I don't know the coach number, why are you asking me?' Mama said.

'What's up Mama?' Omi said.

Mama put his hand on the phone and turned to Omi.

'It is a junior party official in Ayodhya. He put our sevak team in the train the day before. Now he wants the coach number. And he isn't telling me why,' Mama said.

'Wait,' Omi said and went inside the shop. He came out with a notebook.

'Here, I had noted the PNR number and other details while making the booking,' Omi said.

Mama took the notebook and spoke on the phone again.

'Ok listen, they were in S6 ... yeah, it says S6, hundred per cent S6, h.e.l.lo listen ... why are you praying while talking to me? Hey, h.e.l.lo...'

The person on the other end hung up the phone. Mama tried to call the number back but no one picked up. 'What's going on?' I said.

'I don't know. I have to ... I'll go to the station,' Mama said.

'I'll come with you?' Omi said. 'No, it's fine. I had to go anyway. I'll find out,'

Mama said and left.

Two hours later the whole country had found out.

'Stop flipping channels," I screamed at Omi, 'they are all showing the same thing.'

We stopped at NDTV. The newsreader repeated the news for the tenth time. 'At least fifty people died and more than a dozen injured when miscreants set fire to a bogie of the Sabarmati Express near the G.o.dhra station in Gujarat on Wednesday morning.' The channel dialled in a railway official from G.o.dhra on the phone.

'Can you tell us what exactly is going on sir?' the newsreader said.

'We are still getting reports. But at around 8.30 in the morning Sabarmati Express arrived at G.o.dhra station,' the official said as his voice waned.

'h.e.l.lo, can you hear us?' the newsreader said several times.

'Yes, I can now,' the official said and continued his story.

From what the channels knew at that point, a mob stoned a bogie of the Sabarmati Express. The bogie contained kar sevaks returning from Ayodhya. The pa.s.sengers shut the metal windows to protect themselves from the stones. The mob threw petrol on the bogie and set it on fire.

'What mob is this? Does it look premeditated?' the newsreader asked.

The railway official avoided controversy. 'The police has arrived and are investigating the matter. Only they can comment on this.'

Ish, Omi and I watched TV non-stop. We cancelled all deliveries for the day.

'Mama's not picking up, I've tried ten times,' Omi said and threw his phone aside.

TV channels had reached G.o.dhra station. We saw the burnt bogie. The rest of the train had already left for Ahmedabad. A tea vendor revealed more than the railway official.

'The mob had Muslims. They had an argument with the Hindu kar sevaks and burnt everyone - women, children,' the tea vendor said.

'We have fifty-eight people dead and over twenty injured, as per reports from the G.o.dhra hospital,' the newsreader said, 'and we have just received confirmation that the burnt bogie was S6.'

'Did she say S6?' Omi said, turning to me.

I kept quiet. I didn't want to confirm the bad news.

'Did she? My brother is in that bogie.' Omi said and ran out.

We came out of the shop. Every shopkeeper had a tense expression.

'They burn little kids, see what kind of a community is this,' a florist said to his neighbouring mithai shop owner.

'Early morning in a railway station. Look at their guts,' another shopkeeper said.

'They struck America in broad daylight too. Now the f.u.c.kers have reached Gujarat. And Delhi will suck their d.i.c.ks,' the florist said. One rarely heard curse words in the temple, but today was different. Of all the days in my life, today was different.

Omi came out of the temple with his father, mother and Mama's wife. All shopkeepers, Ish and I gathered around them.

'Get my Dhiraj. I say get my Dhiraj,' Mama's wife's wails echoed against the temple walls.

'I'll go to the station and find out,' Omi said. He tried Mama's phone again, but it did not connect.

'Don't go, the city is not safe,' the florist said. Omi's mother clutched Omi's hand.

'There could be a curfew soon. Let's shut shops and go home,' a florist said. The shopkeepers dispersed. Dhiraj's mother's tears didn't stop.

'Don't worry, Mama will call back. The news is sketchy. We don't know what happened,' I said.

'Come home son,' Omi's father said to Omi.

'I'll help them shut the shop,' Omi said.

We went back to the shop. We had to customers that morning, and didn't expect any more.

'Do you have gloves Ish bhaiya? Mine are worn out,' Ali's voice startled us. We had packed the shop by one o'clock.

'What the h.e.l.l are you doing here?' Ish said.

Ali was taken aback. He wore a yellow T-s.h.i.+rt and an old pair of jeans. Luckily, he wasn't wearing his skull cap.

'I am getting ready for practice. We have one at 4.30 today no?'

'You haven't seen the news?' I said. 'We don't have TV,' he said. 'And your abba?'

'He took ammi to her parents in Surat. He will come at six.'

'And you didn't go?' Ish said.

'How could I? We had practice. Don't want to do hundred push-ups for missing practice,' Ali said and laughed, 'hey why are you shutting down the shop? My gloves...'

'Nothing, you come with us. Don't be alone at home,' Ish said as he downed the shutters.

'Us?' Omi said in a firm voice.

'You go Omi, your parents and aunt need you,' Ish said. 'And you?' Omi said.

'Am taking Ali home. I'll drop him off when his parents come back.'

Omi looked at me to say something. I shrugged my shoulders.

'You want to come to my place?' Ish said to me. We walked out of the temple compound.

I wanted to see Vidya. But it wasn't the best time, and Vidya would not be in the best mood anyway. I wondered if I should SMS her again.

'No, my mother would be worried too,' I said. She'd probably he in the kitchen, preparing dough for the evening dhokla.

I reached home. Over lunch, I told my mother what had happened at G.o.dhra.

My mother made me swear that I'd never fall in love with a Muslim girl. I felt tired after the two sleepless nights and the events on the TV, and took an afternoon nap. Omi's phone call woke me up.

'Hey what's up Omi? Got in touch with Mama?' I said and rubbed my eyes. The phone's clock showed it was 5.30 p.m.

'I lost my brother Govind. He died on the spot,' Omi said and his voice broke.

He started crying. I lifted myself off the bed and stood up.

'Mama called. He is devastated,' Omi said.

'Is he at home?' I said.

'No, he went to the party office. All the workers are with him to support him. He told me not to tell his wife or anyone else. Like they haven't guessed.'

'It's horrible. Omi, it's horrible,' I said. I shuddered to think we almost took that trip.

'I can't keep silent at home and not show it. I have to get out,' Omi said.

'Then come home,' I said. 'Where is Ish?' Omi said. 'I don't know, can you stay on the line?' I said. I put Omi's line on hold and called Ish. He picked up after ten rings. 'Ish, where are you? Why do you take so long to pick up?' 'I am at the bank. I came with Ali to practice.' 'Is this the time to practice?'

'What? I became sick of staying at home all day. And dad gave me dirty looks because Ali was with me. So I said, screw it, let's. .h.i.t some b.a.l.l.s.'

'Ish, horrible news. Dhiraj is...,' I said and stopped mid-sentence.

'Oh no,' he said, 'really?'

'Yeah, Omi told me. Mama told him to keep quiet at home. He wants to get out.'

'Come over here then,' Ish said.

'Ok,' I said. I hung up on Ish and switched to the other line. 'Come to the bank.

Leave now before it gets dark,' I said to Omi.

'Mom, don't cook for me. We'll make something at the bank,' I said as I left the house.

'Trouble has started in the city. I heard a mob burnt two buses down in Jamalpur,' Omi said.

We came to the tuition area of the backyard to have our dinner. Omi had cooked potato curry and rice.

'Rumour or true?' I said.

'True, a local TV channel showed it as I left,' Omi said, It's strange at home.

Mami is still praying for Dhiraj's safety.'

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