A year ago to a day, when a powerful bomb ripped apart Zaveri Bazaar, Jaipur gemstones from a corner shop at Navnidhan Bhavan rained down on the bodies strewn around. ‘‘The impact was so powerful, my gems were splattered between the bodies outside,’’ recalls Anil Punjabi, 37, proprietor of TT Jewellers.
A blue tarpaulin covers what’s left of his 50-year-old shop in the South Mumbai hub of India’s diamond and gold market. Anil has shifted his shop across the pavement to a tiny, temporary address.
Last year’s terror attack at Gateway of India and Zaveri Bazaar killed 53. The taxi bomb which exploded right outside Navnidhan Bhavan also destroyed the line of second-hand zari and jewellery stores run by the building’s 20-odd Hindu and Muslim tenants. Zaveri Bazaar near Mumbadevi transacts business worth crores everyday. At Navnidhan Bhavan, life and business is under reconstruction.
‘‘We have not pleaded with anyone for help,’’ says Anil. After many meetings, the clutch of affected Hindu and Muslim tenants have decided to pool in savings and rebuild the damaged Bhavan.
On Tuesday, Mohammed Khurshid, of Raza Old Zari Buyer was busy hanging silver and zari work in his new store. ‘‘I gave Rs 25,000 for rebuilding,’’ says Khurshid. He re-opened the shop eight days ago.
Next door, the shutters are still down at Ajooba Footwear where the bomb killed two. ‘‘Two months from now, Navnidhan Bhavan will have a new life. We raised almost Rs 15 lakh,’’ says Firoz Ahmed Zariwala, Ajooba’s neighbour.
Zariwala had to undergo surgery on his arm for shrapnel wounds and re-opened his shop barely a month ago. But for the two zari shopowners and construction workers on the ground floor, the three-storey building is empty.
A narrow, steep staircase is littered with rubble. From the storeys above, bodies were flung onto the road by the impact of the bomb. Today, the road is piled with debris; shopkeepers complain that two taxi stands have sprung back, adding to the chaos.
Nearby, greying jeweller G.K. Solanki frets as he sends the boys to homes across the suburbs. ‘‘The rich customers no longer want to come to the shop,’’ he says. ‘‘Now they ask me to send plenty of samples home.’’ Right ahead, hawkers sell flowers and incense in front of Mumbadevi. Sugarcane juice seller Mohammed Rafiq is at the same spot outside Ajooba Footwear where his friend lost a leg. ‘‘I’ve been here for 22 years, nothing will uproot me,’’ he says.
Back at Navnidhan Bhavan, the two zari shop owners call it a day as twilight falls. They’re still waiting for the power supply that snapped on Black Monday.