Among the kar sevaks

When we reached Lucknow we were six kar sevaks and five vagabonds on the fourth the city was awash in saffron, with posters calling upon the crusaders to march on Ayodhya and do the needful. VHP volunteers told us how to reach the temple town and we boarded a connecting train that evening.

Nothing could have prepared me for the spectacle of Ayodhya. Thetown was a sea of tents, relieved by the sharp spires of the temples. One of the older kar sevaks, a neighbour whom we called Kaka, swiftly arranged for our stay at a well-known address, Manas Bhawan. We were sharing the three-storeyed building with several BJP and VHP stalwarts who were apparently loath to slum it out in the cold with the hoi polloi.

After dinner, we talked for some time, fine-tuning our plans of taking a dekko at the disputed site in the morning and then slipping away after dishing out some plausible excuse to Kaka and Co. As is the case in such congregations, plenty of camaraderie and bonhomie were on display and this lulled us into a sense of false security. We felt that in spite of the hype, wise counsel would prevail in the end, as it had earlier.

The next morning saw us up early, shivering in the cold and in anticipation. We weaved our way through the thick mist and a sea of humanity. Hirsute sadhus with matted hair and trishuls, denim-clad youths with saffron bandannas,swayamsevaks marching in khaki shorts, foreigners, camera in hand, looking dazed8230;

After a few minutes the masjid burst upon us out of the mist and we came face to face with the site which was exercising the minds of millions. The massive domes shot up into the misty sky, rendered all the more imposing because of the high edifice. Barbed wire stood mute testimony to the rupture in the secular fabric, and seemed scant protection against the assembled might of half a million kar sevaks.

After taking in the town and the Sarayu river, we caught hold of Kaka and explained to him why we had to leave immediately. As Kaka remonstrated, I was troubled by a queasy feeling which I couldnacirc;euro;trade;t quite place. Back in Lucknow, we spent the night at the home of a top bureaucrat who was related to Hari, and planned to proceed to Allahabad on the sixth. Blessed with a sense of humour quot;There is pandemonium in UP because there are so many Pandesquot;, the mandarin kept us abreast of developments in Faizabad and advised us tostay on for a couple of days.

We heard the news at noon on December 6. And spent the entire day reassuring our jittery families on the telephone. Not wanting to impose any further on our hostacirc;euro;trade;s hospitality, we left for Nagpur on the eighth. The train reached Kanpur late in the night. A few passengers wearing a funereal look filed in. We learnt that major riots had broken out. One woman narrated an incident in which a 2-month-old baby and her mother were thrown into a bonfire. They were Muslims. I finally realised what had been gnawing at me. The look on Kakaacirc;euro;trade;s face as he tried to get us to stay on in Faizabad. A mad, determined glint presaging the atavistic horror which was upon us.