0
Bangalore Bombings
Posted by
jyoti
,
30 July 2008
·
33 views
I got the text message about 2:30, maybe 3:00, from my friend. "Sweetie, take care. There have been 6 bombs in Bangalore."
There was nothing on the radio. Scratch that. There was next to nothing on the radio. I caught one announcement in Kannada, and then zilch for nearly an hour. Finally, finally! the English station mentioned it. "Thanks for all the text messages asking if we're okay. We're fine. And, since everyone knows what's going on, we'll play a few more songs!" Aargh.
By 3:30 I was bored. Bored with nothing happening. Bored with not knowing what was going on. Bored with sitting at home, afraid of a text message, waiting to find out what to do. So I ventured out to the street to get some news. Suddenly, here was a new dilemma--after months of being super polite with all the male store keepers but maintaining distance, now I needed to strike up a conversation.
I bought butter and eggs... and chickened out. He was busy. He was young. He probably wouldn't understand my English.
"What news, Uncle?" I asked the man who owns my favorite shop on the corner. His friendly help in buying Fevicol and wrapping paper surely meant we had a news-swapping sort of rapport. His grandson was sitting by the shop door with him. The sunlight glinted off his grey hair gone red.
"Not much," he said.
"Uh... anything about the bombing?" I ventured.
"Oh," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "Just politics and politicians. Nothing more."
I nodded as if I had any idea what that was supposed to mean, and headed home. All in all, I was a bit disappointed. Finally something really big happens and I am completely oblivious, hiding out in the wrong part of the city without even the inconvenience of coming upon a blocked street or police officers. it reminded me of the tornado warnings going off in my small town, when everyone ran out to the street to look to the sky. Only, this time, I was the only one even bothering.
At least the power was still on.
There was nothing on the radio. Scratch that. There was next to nothing on the radio. I caught one announcement in Kannada, and then zilch for nearly an hour. Finally, finally! the English station mentioned it. "Thanks for all the text messages asking if we're okay. We're fine. And, since everyone knows what's going on, we'll play a few more songs!" Aargh.
By 3:30 I was bored. Bored with nothing happening. Bored with not knowing what was going on. Bored with sitting at home, afraid of a text message, waiting to find out what to do. So I ventured out to the street to get some news. Suddenly, here was a new dilemma--after months of being super polite with all the male store keepers but maintaining distance, now I needed to strike up a conversation.
I bought butter and eggs... and chickened out. He was busy. He was young. He probably wouldn't understand my English.
"What news, Uncle?" I asked the man who owns my favorite shop on the corner. His friendly help in buying Fevicol and wrapping paper surely meant we had a news-swapping sort of rapport. His grandson was sitting by the shop door with him. The sunlight glinted off his grey hair gone red.
"Not much," he said.
"Uh... anything about the bombing?" I ventured.
"Oh," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "Just politics and politicians. Nothing more."
I nodded as if I had any idea what that was supposed to mean, and headed home. All in all, I was a bit disappointed. Finally something really big happens and I am completely oblivious, hiding out in the wrong part of the city without even the inconvenience of coming upon a blocked street or police officers. it reminded me of the tornado warnings going off in my small town, when everyone ran out to the street to look to the sky. Only, this time, I was the only one even bothering.
At least the power was still on.
