So what happens to Mumbai now? In this Guest Voice post, Wil Robinson, a freelance writer living and teaching in Mumbai, looks at the immediate aftermath and what is likely to come next. This is cross posted from his blog International Political Will.
MUMBAI AFTERMATH
by Wil Robinson
It has continued for three days, claimed the lives of at least 195 people, and brought a city of 20 million Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, and Christians together. The city moves forward, slowly. And somberly.
As if trying to cleanse the city of the evil that has befallen it, a rare overnight rain shower in the middle of the dry season brought a cool morning and a breeze rich with the scent of damp earth. Gazing down from my window, in a neighborhood that feels strangely disconnected from the tragedy a few miles away, I see a new poster has been placed at the intersection.
Patriotic song lyrics surround photos of three of the top Mumbai law enforcement officers that lost their lives in the attacks. The lyrics praise the martyrs for their sacrifice in the service of their country.
There are more signs of healing, even before the end of the ordeal. Signs of bravery, faith, and unity.
Outside of Nariman House, where several Jewish members were held hostage, crowds from the nearby slums cheered the Indian commandos upon announcement that the last terrorists had been killed: “Bharat Mata Ki Jai!” (We salute mother India). A sober moment of joy that was quickly doused by news that all the hostages inside were dead.
A local paper, Mumbai Mirror, detailed the last act of SK Sharma, the assistant chief ticketing inspector at CST train station. In the middle of the initial onslaught by gunmen on the train platforms, he hustled people into the safety of his office. Against the advice of his co-workers, he ventured back out trying to save a lone girl on the platform, only to be shot and killed himself. One of many heroes remembered.
Despite hyped media reports about the terrorists “targeting Westerners” (only 15 of the 195 victims are confirmed foreign nationals), the few foreigners that are now walking the streets again are no braver than others. Less than 12 hours after the attacks began, I passed a Muslim couple on the sidewalk. The man was wearing his muslin cap and long white kurta, his wife in full chador and veil. Given that Islamic militants were currently perpetrating one of the worst terrorist acts on Indian soil, this couple had no fear of retribution or revenge – even in a city with a history of violent sectarian riots. It is their community, too, just as it is the Hindu’s, Christian’s, and Sikh’s. Life goes on.
In Mumbai, stories of bravery, heroism, and community strength are being passed around – through newspapers, gossip in high-rise offices, and among families at home.
On the first day of the attacks, I sat down for lunch at Ali Baba’s Chinese (love the name), an outside cantina near a train station. My usual waiter (who speaks about as much English as I do Hindi – which is zilch) paused as he handed me the menu.
“CST – bomb. You?”
I looked at him slightly confused. “Ha. I saw.”
“You?”
“No, I live in Vashi.”
“Ha.” His lips drew up in a somber smile. “Acha.” Good.
“You?” I asked in response.
“Nay.”
“That’s good.”
A singular shared moment, confirming that neither of us was alone. An assurance that the sky is not falling, and that life will continue.
For Americans far away, when the only connection is images and information provided by a sensationalistic media, it might appear the entire city is chaotic. But the vast majority of Mumbai is venturing back to normalcy; it will not bow to terror. Mumbaikars are treating the attack as criminal – and one that demands justice – but not as an apocalyptic war waged by religious fanatics that requires an equally extreme response.
Mumbai is strong, vibrant, and diverse. The strength of its people shines in times of trouble. People come to Mumbai for the chance to engage with others – the chance to make a buck, find a friend, start a family. The city is a mix of 20 million people from all walks of life, all religions, and all economic classes. Mumbaikars seem to understand – perhaps they learned it after the 1993 riots – that a cosmopolitan city cannot dwell in the past. A city this big will not thrive on division and fear. It can only be built on hope for tomorrow.
Mumbai, like the United States, is made of immigrants. Americans – like Mumbaikars – understand the fundamental strength that is shared by all immigrants:
They don’t look back. Only forward.
Joe Gandelman is a former fulltime journalist who freelanced in India, Spain, Bangladesh and Cypress writing for publications such as the Christian Science Monitor and Newsweek. He also did radio reports from Madrid for NPR’s All Things Considered. He has worked on two U.S. newspapers and quit the news biz in 1990 to go into entertainment. He also has written for The Week and several online publications, did a column for Cagle Cartoons Syndicate and has appeared on CNN.