Life at Hell (Chapter 1)

"Raman, please do not do it. Open the door. Have you gone mad!"
Either the frequency of the tone was ultra-sonic or I was not able to hear it. There are some moments in your life when you reach a stage which I term as the moment of reality. It is a feeling which you can either get when you are in the final stage of orgasm, or you are in the transition stage of getting drunk. The solutions to all problem dawn on you and you make decisions of your life time.
I was in that stage although I was not drunk at all. Nothing seemed so crystal clear before. A psycho, as they used to refer to me, was not all that a sucker. He was courageous and determined. Determined enough to end his life.

Life at Hell (Prologue)

The life at L can be a nightmare for few. The subsequent chapters that I am going to publish from time to time will have a certain autobiographical touch to it but it is certainly not my story. It is a story of six different characters with startkingly different characteristics.

The terrible tuesday

The terrible tuesday was a black day indeed. With some 180 bodies losing their soles, the powerful blasts ripping the roof off the train compartments, and hundereds of people getting injured, the day will bring haunting memories to residents of the city.
I remember, I was solving one of the intricate mysteries of an accounting course when I heard this news. Taken aback, I tried to call people. Being from IIT Bombay, I had an umpteen amount of friends in Mumbai, most of them now employed in the areas where the blasts took their toll. I was worried but phone lines were not reachable. The network was out....
On logging on to messenger, I could talk to Anil who was himself worried. Singla had not reached the hostel. I kept trying the phone lines with desperation.
Every second which passed thereafter was haunting...till I got a call from Shrankhla who confirmed the well being of everybody. Hah, what a great relief it was.
I could not sleep that night. Kept thinking about those people who were still searching their lost ones and had not been able to find them. Worse were those who had find the names of their dear ones in the hospital notice boards. How they could have reconciled? The thought of the same gives me shivers and chills my bones even now.
What for?
180 people died and many got wounded badly. Most of the wounded are now in an irrecoverable stage which can be worse than death for many. Sometimes I wonder, what the people responsible for blasting of the lifeline of Mumbai got out of it. It remains unexplained. People try to attach logic to this, but this is the most ultra-logic deed by any means of imagination. Hate to the level of desperation leads to crime but the crime of this sort? What amount of detestation and execration would lead to this, I do not understand. Isn't is astonishing that people involved in this crime are Indian citizens only (atleast it is being speculated this way).
Communalism! is this the cause. No way! Blasts do not ask the ethinicity, religion, and country when they rip somebody apart. If communalism is the reason, I propose an IQ test for these miscreants who cannot understand the logic as simple as above.