that I cringe at the thought of my parents living alone.

R woke me up early with news that tehre were bomb blasts in bombay. this isn't an alien word- we grew up with bomb blasts as a normal everyday occurence in bombay. only, we belonged to the sector that remained untouched by the fairness of such events. "it cannot happen to us," was what I believed growing up.
But being a million miles or 24 hours away from family and your memories, can make you vulnerable and teach you that you really are not invincible. indestructible.

you are, as is your family, as are your friends- liable to death at the hands of strangers, just as anyone else is.

My immediate circle of family is safe. And I pray to God that my friends are safe too. But what about the ones who aren't?

Know what worries me most about death and murders? It's not the ones who die that suffer. It's the ones they leave behind. My closest school friend's Dad was killed in a train accident. His body was cut into 4 pieces and it lay there soaking the concrete with blood and vestiges of life. It was 5 years ago and the wounds are still raw for my friend and her family.

I don't know death. I wrote about my grandmothers death here. It was one year to her death anniversary and I didn't even remember it. It didn't matter to me. I don't know if she is still alive in my head or whether this is something my mind rejects thinking about. But her death was peaceful, we knew it was coming and we knew that it came with the promise that she lived a wholesome life and was ready to pass on.

BUT- what about the wife who had dinner ready for her husband who never returned today ? What about the child who anxiously was waiting for his mum to get back from work so he could show her his homework? What about them? About the people who didn't know death was coming for their beloveds. No absolutions, no last chances to make up after a fight, no last chance to feed the one who died his favorite kheer.

***

GodSpeed Bombay, Godspeed.
I pray for you.