Unseen colours of life

Two years ago I survived an attack on my life at Leopold Cafe. Within a span of three days I discovered the finest people in my life and an angel. Saw humanity, friendship and hope in action. It changed my whole perspective of life. I realised life is indeed beautiful if you want it to be. There is nothing in your control except your own mind. You can travel in a jam-packed train while immersed in beautiful thoughts or fight with the pushy co-passenger.

You may enjoy the small cutting chai with absolute strangers in the hackneyed by-lanes of Parel and may not like the finest liquor in the unreal atmosphere of an expensive Lower Parel restaurant. It’s all about the state of your mind. Life is kaleidoscopic with beauty lurking at every other corner. You just need to have the time and interest to observe it. Life is not fast as many say. It gives you time to understand yourself and others. It is we who run away from the wisdom and openness for what even we don’t know.

We think we compete with the world, with others. We struggle day and night for little niceties of life. The truth is we miss millions of niceties every other moment by putting ourselves under an undue pressure psychology. We must respect time and the power of the unknown, because we don’t have any control over them. But our mind is our own. Our thought process is our own. Our dreams are our own. People who love us are our own. And there is no perfect day or way to start life in the best way.

The very next moment is the best moment of ours.

After two years of the 26/11 attacks I feel wealthier for I have real friends and I can own millions of little good things in life just by smiling, writing, painting talking and listening to others.

Following is a quote I have always tried to remember after 26/11.
“We should all start to live before we get too old. Fear is stupid. So are regrets." - Marilyn Monroe

Let's pray for very innocent human being who have lost their lives and every angel who has tried to keep hopes of humanity alive across the world. Amen....

(*PICTURE: I made this acrylic-on-canvas work named "The Sorrow of Mumbai" in September 2009.
I want to portray the pain and grief of this mega-city accompanied by tranquility indicating hope and stability. The work was presented to the organisation I was working with and is presently at the Reuters News Room in Mumbai)

26/11 Survivor's Account: Good News 4 - In Mumbai for hundreds of victims, there are thousands of volunteers

Injured and helpless I was, yet conscious and watchful of the movement around. With hundreds of victims pouring in there were thousands of volunteers ready to help. From carrying, cleaning and fetching water, donating blood there were thousands of good souls around to help the victims.

Troubled they look yet confident of their self-taken responsibility and the attempt to let people live another day. That was overwhelming.

I remember the volunteers escorting the ambulance I was carried in while being transferred from St George hospital to JJ Hospital.

The act of young medical students was also worth mentioning. I remember a moment when two thin and teenage girls were trying to carry an obese old man to an emergency ward in absence of as stretcher how they one of them fell, but immediately stood up and ran to the emergency.

Students got water bottles from their own hostel rooms to serve the victims. I distinctly remember the hospital staff putting their best efforts to help the victims while the politicians were obstructing the work.

Most of the staff was ignoring the local politicians and most of them along with volunteers were shouting to the politicians to stay away from obstructing their work.

(The above photograph is sourced from V Nayak's collection on Flickr.com)(For more phograph pool on 26/11 you can visit http://www.flickr.com/groups/mumbai_terrorism/pool/)

Remembering 26/11: The dark side and the good news

I want to dedicate my postings on November 26, 2009 to every innocent life lost on the same day a year ago.

Every dark event in life has some positives attached to it. Like the discovery of great human beings around you, true character of self, development of sensibility and absence of fear. The events of November 26, 2008 provided me with similar experiences.

I was lucky enough to survive the horror, unlike many fellow human beings and discover my share of goodness in life. I sometimes feel writing the goodnews about my survival is selfish considering many others didn't see the good news. But I think I want to make a point how good human beings exsists on this earth irrespective of ethnicity religion and circumstances. I would like to contribute this positive piece of literature to every fellow human being who is hopeful about this world.

My 26/11 survivor's account

Never have I used any of my professional write-ups in personal space. But this has to do with a survivor’s story, one that has to be told clearly, objectively and needed scrupulous editing. Sourcing the story as was first published on Dec 10.

REUTERS WITNESS - Back from the dead in Mumbai
Wed Dec 10, 2008 5:03pm IST
By Sourav Mishra
MUMBAI (Reuters) - It’s not often that you get to read your own name in the obituaries. Three days after armed militants went on the rampage in Mumbai, newspapers and TV channels included my name in the list of more than 170 people who lost their lives in the carnage.
They were wrong -- obviously.
But I had a tough time fending off phone calls from anxious relatives, friends and colleagues who thought I had succumbed to my injuries.
Yes, I am alive and well. And painfully aware that my first trip to the Leopold Café might have been my last.
I was there on that unforgettable Wednesday night, deep in conversation with two French acquaintances -- Kate, a filmmaker, and her friend Clementine.
As we drank beer and tucked into prawns and chicken tikka, we talked of Kate's debut Hindi film -- a comedy about a girl in Paris who wants to marry a man with a moustache.
An hour later, as Clementine suggested we order more beer, a diner at a nearby table caught my eye. I remember thinking he looked uncannily similar to actor Johnny Depp in the 'Pirates of the Caribbean' series.
The next instant, his table was smashed and the diner was flung aside. I heard what seemed like a blast and something hit me hard on my back. I panicked and ran out through the nearest door.
Out on the road, I touched the wound and found it was bleeding profusely. I could hardly move my right hand. I shouted for help but no one paid any heed. Tried to move ahead but couldn't and fell down.
As I lay there, I felt someone grab hold of me and help me to my feet. The Good Samaritan hurried me towards a nearby cinema where we clambered into a taxi and rushed to the hospital.
I could still hear the gunfire in the street and my companion told me there was some sort of gang war going on.
The doctors at the hospital were reluctant to admit me but the stranger beside me begged them to take me in. As I removed my shirt and pressed against the wound, a copper-coated bullet fell out.
The woman treating me smiled and uttered the three words I'd been waiting to hear - "You will survive".
The 60-hour siege of Mumbai continued and not everyone was as lucky as I was. More people were brought in as the minutes ticked by.
The man next to me had two bullets lodged in his stomach and was writhing in pain. A weeping mother clutched her dead child. Two policemen were dead and another was battling for his life.
"Only Allah can save us now," whispered someone on my right, a man who had been shot in the chest.
As I began to come to terms with our ordeal, I turned to the man who had rushed me to hospital and asked his name. Turns out Kishore owns a small shop near the Leopold Café. He had already informed my friends, dialling a number that I had mumbled earlier.
My bureau chief in Mumbai, Charlotte, was among the first to find me at the hospital, weaving her way through a row of dead bodies before she spotted me and heaved a sigh of relief.
My ribs hurt and I was feeling breathless but I wasn't badly hurt.
I was alive. I was safe.
Later, as local politicians made a beeline to the hospitals, I was glad to see none of the staff or the victims paid them much heed. The old man at the X-ray machine shouted at one of the leaders, asking his supporters not to obstruct hospital staff.
I was moved to a private hospital on Thursday morning where I was told a rib fracture had prevented the bullet from puncturing my lungs. I underwent surgery to prevent spreading the infection.
And what of my companions at the Café?
I felt like a coward when I thought of Kate and Clementine. I had left them behind. It's hard being a hero when you are busy trying to save your own life.
I learnt that Clementine had been shot in the arm but it wasn't serious and both my friends flew to France soon after.
This week, I got an email from Kate. She says she'll back in India soon.