… they tell us it was ‘premeditated’. You don’t say!
Would it have helped the commission to hurry things along if I had mentioned that on the morning of 6th December ’92 our neighbours hopped over the little picket fence between our houses with a request that put up a whole new wall between us. They said that at 8 o’clock that night the masjid would go down and the whole city would come out on to their balconies and gardens and beat steel plates with spoons, ring bells and shout slogans. They wanted us to join in.
As the cheer went up that night across our little locality (barring a few silent households including ours) something broke inside me.
I do think it would have been difficult for the aam junta or the mango people in our sleepy small town to hear of it and prepare, if it just happened in the heat of the moment.
I also wonder how this man can claim that it was the proudest day of his life. How little one must have in their life if a moment of destruction of culture, sentiment and history is all they have to be proud of.
And then I hear of such grand reconstruction plans and I can only shudder and pray as I imagine the blood and gore that might bring with it.