This is the long night, the darkest night.
My city is burning. I can hear it scream, I can smell it burn. I feel its fear, the nauseating stench of blood and death in the air. The long black night has finally fallen, and no amount of fire and light can drive this darkness away.
All I know is that as long as the dark persists, so too will the light. My city is burning. But we will rebuild. We will repair. And we will be, as we always are, resilient.
Not much is known as of this writing. There is no fact. The night continues, and only with the breaking of day will the truth come to light. But now, at this very moment in this dreadful night, my city is burning.
And all I feel in this moment of loss, is the knowledge that no matter what, we will endure. Because more powerful than anything these murderers and animals throw at us is the idea of this city: this citadel of dreams. And fire and steel alone cannot destroy this idea, this ideal. My heart goes out to those who have lost in night of terror. My family is still trapped near the Taj. I pray and hope.
We are hurt, we will heal. We are bruised, we will rebuild. We are scared, we will persevere.
We are Bombay.
Written at: 1.25 am, 27th November 2008. The darkest night.
