Never A Dull Moment

I am, like a true neta, breaking my promise of a story on our trip to the tailors. I thought a story about the recent near-demise of the UPA government would be better. But the media went wall-to-wall with it. And then it happened! Yes, the blasts. Don’t you agree that a story on my version of the serial bomb blasts here makes a better read? Mumbai, Madrid, New York, London and now Bangalore! Informed sources tell me that you've gotta get bombed to get into the big league. And we finally made it on Friday. The same source tells me that till recently, an average Joe from overseas (btw, I learned that the desi variety is called the average Jai) got off his flight from Benguluru International Airport and either made his way to Electronic City for meetings with the tech biggies or took a long cab ride to Mysore to see Mysore Palace and the Vishwesaraiya Dam. The bombings however have changed it all. Rumor goes that an enterprising tour operator now offers a tour called “A Blast into the Past” with stops at such now-famous spots as The Madivala Bus Stop, The Arasipalaya Transformer, and The Langford Road Drain. He apparently is doing brisk business. As for me, I consider myself a veteran witness to these bombings. Back in December 1992, we decided (unlike this time) on a whim to return to Mumbai from Singapore. Within four days of landing in the country and my beloved city, Mumbai, terrorists bombed a bus killing a few. And within months, I witnessed at close hand, the Mumbai serial blasts. And within a month of moving to Pittsburgh from Mountain View, I watched a plane crash into a Pennsylvania forest on September 11. Am I jinxed or what? Back to the recent blasts though. Offices had emptied out early and shops were shuttered. I left work late evening and got into an autorickshaw (yes, I have yet to buy a car) hoping that the rickshaw driver would take me home through a safe and secret route. No such luck. I watched with consternation as he whizzed past the same places that were, just hours before, terror sites. Noticing my frightened face, he calmly assuaged me “Idhar aur kuch nahin hoga saab. Bombing khatam. Yeh area safe ho gaya abhi. Mera guarantee saab. Total safe hai.”. I bought his insurance and sat back for the rest of the ride. Native logic had triumphed. My re-education has started with a bang.