Adil Najam
I, too, am a Mumbaikar today.
I wish I could reach out and for just one moment hold the hands of the woman in this AP photograph. Maybe shed some tears on her shoulder. But I do not know what I would say to her. I do not think she would want me to say much. The expression on her face matches the feeling I have at the pit of my stomach and in the depth of my heart. I think – I hope – that she would understand how I feel. I can only imagine what she is going through.
And so, in prayer and in solidarity, I stand today with Mumbaikars everywhere. In shock at what has happened. In fear of what might happen yet. In anger at those who would be so calculated in their inhuman massacre. In sympathy with those whose pain so hurts my own heart but whose tears I cannot touch, whose wounds I cannot heal, and whose grief I cannot relieve.
The solidarity I feel with Mumbaikars is deep and personal.
The first time I ever visited the Taj Mahal Hotel was with my wife. We had been married just weeks and were not staying at the Taj but went to the historic “Sea Lounge” at the hotel for tea and snacks during a short visit to Mumbai. We went to the Oberoi Hotel the same visit in the naive and mistaken belief that we would find Bollywood bigwigs hanging out there. In later years I would come back and stay at the old wing of the Taj – down the corridor from where Ruttie Bai Jinnah and stayed – I would even present in the grand ballroom whose pillars, supposedly, had been brought from her father’s estate. Each time I passed through Victoria Terminus I stood in awe of the pace as well as its presence. In awe of the architectural structure, but also of the sea of humanity around me. I cannot hear of terrorists attacking these places without my own muscles twitching in anger.
But my feeling of solidarity with Mumbaikars is much much more personal than these few fleeting visits over many years. Deeply etched into me are the horrific echoes of 9/11 in New York and the string of terrorist attacks on Islamabad, Karachi, Lahore, Quetta, Peshawar and all over Pakistan whose reports have become all too familiar – but never bearable – on this blog. I know what living with terror feels like. I have thought too much and too deeply about what it feels like to be the target of violence propelled by hatred. I know the pain of helplessness one feels as one stands stunned in grief, wanting so desperately to do something – anything – but not knowing what to do. This is why I identify with the expression on the face of the woman in this picture. This is why, like so many others in the world, today I too am a Mumbaikar.
This is why I stand with Mumbaikars everywhere, in prayer and in solidarity. At a loss for words but with an urge to speak out. My words of condemnation will not change the actions of those who have committed such heinous murder and mayhem. Nor will my words of sympathy diminish the agony of the victims. But speak out I must. In condemnation as well as in sympathy. To speak against the inhumanity of hatred and violence. To speak for the humanity in all of us that we all must hold on to; especially in the testing moments of grave stress.
But, today, I have no words of analysis. What words can make sense of the patently senseless? I do not know who did this. Nor can I imagine any cause that would justify this. But this I know: No matter who did this, no matter why, the terror that has been wrought in Mumbai is vile and inhuman and unjustifiable. And, for the sake of our own humanness, we must speak out against it.
And, so, to any Mumbaikar who might be listening, I say: “I stand with you today. In prayer and in solidarity.”
I am an Indian, and I just finished watching an interview with Mr. Ansar Burney on Sahara Samay Indian TV. I was thoroughly impressed by his views and touched by the sincerity of his comments. From the overwhelmingly positive comments and the overall goodwill extended on this site to Indians after the terrible tragedies in Mumbai, I for one have no doubt in my mind that Mr. Burney spoke for all Pakistanis in his unwaveringly humanitarian interview.
The fact that he gave this interview in India despite the high-pressure situation there and the accusatory tone of the media in general and of the Samay interviewer specifically, goes to show the sincerity of his intentions. By the end of the interview, the Sahara interviewer was completely mesmerized and won over by Mr. Burney and while thanking him, wished that ordinary Indians had more of an opportunity to hear views like his above the din of negativity, suspicion, and distrust.
India and Pakistan have come a long way in building a much-awaited bridge of frienship and trust and regardless of how the investigation into the Mumbai carnage turns out, I would like to remain hopeful that the thoughtless act by a few miscreants should not be generalized in India to be the will or deliberate actions of a people or nation, because as Heer as aptly said in his couplet earlier, either country really has so much suffering to deal with internally, that why would we even want to cause trouble in our neighbors’ homes…thanks to ATP readers for your comments of support and friendship.
There is widespread and appropriately strong condemnation of the terrorists responsible for murder and mayhem in Mumbai. And there is powerful outpouring of sympathy for the innocent victims. There is also a lot of speculation as to the causes and culprits of the expanding scope and scale of terror the world is witnessing. Such speculation will likely continue as the governments of the world grapple with the rising threat to civilians everywhere in the world. It’s clear, though, that the use of military power alone as seen in America’s “war on terror” will not succeed. There is an urgent need for all to acknowledge the failure of the current “global war on terror” to come up with a better strategy that relies on a broader set of tools and options to overcome the growing menace. For more, please read http://www.riazhaq.com/2008/11/world-reacts-in-hor ror-as-terror.html
I am also saddened by the loss of human life.
but im no mumbaikaar.
im pakistani, from lahore.
Sad really sad. There is no justification of the losses of innocent men and women. The majority of the population of both the countries are living under the poverty line. It’s time to give a damn about them and quit all dirty games of politics.
Peace is the way to go.
Dear Adil,
Thank you for your thoughts–a true reflection of what many of us feel but are unable to articulate as eloquently as you have. This is a senseless massacre and no doubt we all stand in prayer and solidarity.
Best,
Kamran