The Diwali After

Every evening, Sarika returns from work to her parents8217; Dilshad Colony home to two photos hanging on the wall. Her late husband Vinod and her daughter Shruti, just about a year old now. It8217;s a sight her father NP Sivan rarely misses. 8220;Death and life go hand in hand and shockingly so,8221; he says.

Somewhere, a cellphone is still ringing in the house. Last year, on October 29, it took a final call to Vinod to confirm his death in the blasts as the body was charred beyond recognition.

The 29-year-old was out buying gifts for his wife and newborn at the Paharganj market with his parents Meenakshikutty 49 and N Sivaraman 59. His brother Vineet, five years younger, had tagged along. Sarika was anxiously waiting in Thiruvananthapuram for the proud father when she received news that changed their lives forever. Her husband and parents-in-law were dead; Vineet was battling for his life in hospital.

All of a sudden, the housewife with an aptitude for studies was left living and fending for her child. Sarika took her husband8217;s place in the Northern Railways office as assistant accountant. Her father, who believed the last of his cares was over with her marriage, was a worried parent all over again. 8220;She still cannot bring herself to talk about the bomb blast8230; the work keeps her busy and when she returns she spends all her time with the baby,8221; he says.

Sarika8217;s mother Padmini is only glad she can help her daughter with the baby while she is away at work. 8220;She had been married for just three years8230;Delhi is full of memories for her but she is trying hard. Vineet is preparing for his MBA exam and in all likelihood, he will also get a job with the railways like his father,8221; she says.

They realise it8217;s a year now. Vineet, who prefers to stay at his brother8217;s railway colony home, has to return to their village in Malappuram, Kerala, for the annual rites.

8216;For Ishika8217;

RAVLEEN KAUR

Most of Jagruti8217;s crayon sketches are 8220;For Ishika8221;. A year after the 10-year-old lost her baby sister, lessons at school are going along really well and the family has huddled closer. Jagruti has even taken a sudden liking to books. But the sketches of flowers and mountains are still for Ishika.

Mother Monica Ochani couldn8217;t wish for more. The burn wounds on her arms are yet to heal. So these days, she watches her father do the cooking and cleaning but she knows it8217;s a labour that8217;s helping him get through.

Monica lost her mother Satyawati, 26-year-old sister Kanchan and younger daughter Ishika in the blast at Sarojini Nagar, leaving the family grappling for strength. Fortunately Jagruti survived. Ishika was only eight months old then and house ringing with the laughter of the two sisters lapsed into a silence.

8220;We saw a death every day of the five days after the blast. Kanchan did not even have burn injuries. She died of suffocation while trying to save a child,8221; says Monica. Kanchan died immediately; Ishika died the next morning; Monica8217;s mother died of 65 per cent burns a day later. The next day came news of the death of a family friend, Maneka.

That8217;s when the 10-year-old brought together the family, back to the future. 8220;She had burns on her legs and had to undergo sugery because a three-inch external bone had pierced her thigh. She wasn8217;t able to come out of the trauma and kept recalling the incident when she was in hospital,8221; recalls Satish Ochani, Jagruti8217;s father. Then, things began falling in place.

Monica8217;s 65-year-old father decided to move in with them, closer to his remaining family. 8220;Now these people are my family. I cook for them and play with my granddaughter,8221; he says, before leaving on his daily rounds of the offices to redeem his daughter8217;s investments.

8216;The lesson of moving on8217;

NEHA SINHA

THERE is an array of lights at Shyam Juice Centre, with packaged drinks lining the shelves and walls. It8217;s business as usual but in a corner sits a woman who everybody addresses with respect.

For the family of Lal Chand Saluja, the man who picked up the bomb in a last-ditch attempt to save Sarojini Nagar8217;s Mini Market, this shop is their world. Lal Chand8217;s widow, Kiran, has picked up the pieces of her life, returning every day to the spot that claimed her husband8217;s life.

On Sundays, she also gets her children, Nirmit 4 and Karuna 5 along. They do not know their father is dead. Nor do they understand their weekly sojourns. 8220;I tell them he has gone to get toys and cars for them. I don8217;t know when is the right time to tell them the truth8230; getting them to the shop is to orient them to this place, jahan woh shaheed huay the,8221;Kiran says, smiling slightly.

Strength, maybe, runs in the family. Kiran8217;s mother-in-law died two months after the blasts but not before she had taught her son8217;s wife to look beyond today. 8220;Jamuna Devi taught me to get up, to live for my children. She died of the grief herself but she gave me an invaluable lesson, that of moving on,8221; says Kiran.

8220;Things have never been the same after the blasts. People come upto this point in the market and turn away,8221; says Deshraj, Lal Chand8217;s elder brother. He also lost two helpers at the shop, Babloo and Ramjivan.

There are 12 boys to help him out now and the NDMC has kept cylinders and gas stoves out. With the compensation, the family8217;s affairs are back on track.

Only, if they could put last Diwali behind.

8216;No, not Diwali8217;

NEHA SINHA

Vinod Poddar walks on crutches, his 8220;metal leg8221; still hurts. His teenage daughter Diksha cannot bear to look at the scars running down her arm, the one she is learning to write with, again. But when Vinod sits by her, watching her get through the day8217;s homework, they exchange a knowing smile.

It8217;s taken a lot to get here. Along the walls are photographs of Karan, Diksha8217;s eight-year-old brother, who died in the blasts. There8217;s even one picture of Karan proudly showing off his sister8217;s thread on Bhai Dooj.

Today, memories are all the Poddars have. Last year, the family was out shopping for Diwali in Sarojini Nagar when the blast ripped through the market.

Karan was found dead. Vinod spent months in intensive care after his leg had to be amputated. Diksha suffered severe injuries that are yet to heal. Mother Indu, who was away at work, escaped the blast. But she recalls she had to tackle head-on the smaller battles of life. Like medical bills and the business of finding a new school because Diksha couldn8217;t sit for her Class VI exams.

8220;I never got paid leave for the six months I spent in bed. I was lucky that I was due for medical leave. Things would have been very bad otherwise,8221; says Vinod, who kept his job at the Supreme Court. 8220;I don8217;t think people realised what we had gone through, that8217;s because they were not there. For them, Diksha was just someone who didn8217;t sit for her exams8230;I think everybody needs to realise that such tragedies are a reality. Last year, it was Sarojini Nagar, soon it will somewhere else.8221;

And no, Diwali is not welcome. 8220;Crowded places make me nervous,8221; says Vinod.

Diksha cuts in: 8220;I am scared of Diwali. I never want to see Diwali.8221;

A lock hangs8230;

RAVLEEN KAUR

These days, Dayawati Mittal lets the tears flow as she remembers her daughter Prachi, son-in-law Indrajeet and granddaughter Sunakshi. 8220;My only daughter and her entire family was wiped out. A lock still hangs on their door because there is nobody left even to look after the house,8221; she says, turning away from the photographs.

Diwali doesn8217;t mean anything anymore. Prachi and Indrajeet Gupta were working with the Life Insurance Corporation of India and had finished shopping for clothes and firecrackers well in time. But then, they decided to step out of their familiar West Delhi neighbourhood of Janakpuri to take Sunakshi to Sarojini Nagar. 8220;Sunakshi8217;s Diwali holidays had just started and she wanted to go out,8221; says Dayawati.

That, she says, will be her last Diwali memory. Indrajeet8217;s sister, Indu Bansal, lost her only sibling. 8220;He was my only brother8230;now there8217;s nobody from my parents8217; home. All festivals seem painful,8221; says Indu.

All she hopes is no other family suffers such a loss again. But, 8220;it is the same season again and the markets are again full of crowds without any security. What have they learnt from last year?8221;

Besides, the compensation money8212;she wants to give this to charity8212;is still caught in government files. 8220;They tell us that I am married so I cannot claim the compensation. But they haven8217;t clearly denied it either. The matter is with the Law Department,8221; she says.

8216;I miss mom8217;

DEEPAK PANDEY

Rajani Mehra could have lived with mismatched chappals. But the 40-year-old widow was not known for half-measures. So off she went with 17-year-old daughter Poonam to buy new footwear and spend an evening by themselves.

Rajani had stopped by to have her favourite golgappas when the bombs went off in Sarojini Nagar. Mother and daughter died within minutes.

Rajkumar will never forget the night of October 29. He heard of the blasts while he was still at his savoury shop in Yusuf Sarai. 8220;Something struck me and I rushed home to find out that Rajani bhabhi and Poonam had gone to the market. I rushed to Sarojini market immediately. I searched for the bodies all night. In the morning, I found them,8221; he says.

Rajani and her three children had been living with Rajkumar after her husband Jagdish Lal died of a haemorrhage in 1999. Now, her two children Manish 16 and Kirti 9 were suffering a parental loss, all over again. Only now, they have an aunt and two cousins, Rajkumar8217;s children, to share the house with.

Manish has dropped out of school and helps at the shop but Kirti, says her uncle, is a 8220;bright student8221;. 8220;Kirti did not get up from her bed for months after the blast. It8217;s a year now but the trauma resurfaces every now and then,8221; says Rajkumar. The train blasts in Mumbai, he says, came like a reminder.

8220;I miss my mother and without her I don8217;t enjoy anything,8221; is all the nine-year-old has to say about Diwali. There might be no new clothes or sweets either. 8220;We never went to the market after that. Particularly, during the festivals and rush hours,8221; says Rajkumar.

A village mourns

Tenzing Lamsang

Last diwali, the 250 families of Manglapur village did not light a single lamp. Their Good Samaritan Kamla Devi was no more, leaving behind people she knew or didn8217;t but who remembered a kind word, gesture or often a rare favour.

8220;I told my wife to wait for my holiday the next day but she laughed and left for Sarojini market, saying she would be back soon,8221; says Jai Prakash, a postman. It was one promise, his wife didn8217;t keep.

Hours after the blast, Jai Prakash found his wife and daughter, 21-year-old Aarti Kumari, at the Safdarjung Hospital mortuary.

8220;My wife was alive for around one-and-a-half hours after the blasts because she gave her name, address and phone number to an ambulance staff but nobody called us,8221; says Jai Prakash.

Now, Jai Prakash looks to their son Aashu Kuhard and four daughters, two of whom are married, for the strength to get by. 8220;My mother ran the house. She got my younger sister remarried after she became a widow,8221; says Aashu.

And then there was the local NGO Sarodha Sanstha that Kamla Devi had adopted. There were countless marriages to be arranged for orphaned and destitute girls.

The quality had rubbed off on daughter Aarti. 8220;They would never leave each other8217;s side,8221; recalls Jai Prakash. They never did.