Students’ Notebook: Fear stalks me

Every time a blast occurred in Delhi, Muslim youths, students lived in anxiety. Fear, too. Would the police come knocking on their door? A Delhi University student recounts the tense days
Suvaid Yaseen Delhi

It was around half past five in the evening on a Saturday. I came out of the PUDR meeting, which I occasionally attended, at the Coffee House, behind the Regal cinema.

Slowly, I walked towards the metro station with a Kashmiri friend. We chatted for about 15 minutes outside the Central park, till around 6 pm. He went into the metro station and I moved towards the Scindia House from where I usually take a bus to my home at Bhogal, Jangpura.

It was the month of Ramzan and the time of breaking the fast was drawing close. A bit tired, I decided to take an auto rickshaw. Some 10 minutes into the travel, I messaged Inam, a journalist friend, living at Nizamuddin. It always feels better to break the fast, iftar, with someone for company, especially so, when one is away from home.

"Are u ppl at hme?" (sic) my sms read. It was 6.23 pm and I was still in the auto. It was September 13, 2008.

Inam called. He was in the market, along with another friend and roommate, Suhail. I asked the driver to stop at Nizamuddin instead of Jangpura. I met them. We bought some fruits and sweets. After iftar, we went out for proper dinner. We were still in the market, when one of my friends got a call. He informed that there were serial blasts in Delhi - Ghaffar market, Connaught Place, Greater Kailash.

Soon after, I got a message from a friend from Delhi asking me if I was fine. I assured him that I was. A sudden unease engulfed us, a nervousness of sorts. Back home in Kashmir, this wouldn't happen. It would just be the news of another blast. But we were in the Indian capital. Things were different.

Earlier, while listening to the news of blasts in Bangalore and Ahmedabad, we had thanked our stars that they didn't happen in Delhi. After something like this, the police usually round up people. And, a young Kashmiri Muslim is an ideal catch, guilty or not. Isn't Afzal Guru still languish in jail?

Just the day before, September 12, I had spoken at a paper presentation competition at Delhi University's Miranda House on: Should India quit Kashmir? One of the three judges, who worked with a television news channel, praised my "passionate" speech. Then, he told me, from the dais, that I was lucky to have got the space to speak.

I had thanked the organisers after the presentation as discussing this topic would never have been possible in the Kashmir University. He continued, "In Pakistan or even in the United States you could have been even shot for speaking like that! Suvaid, you see, we do not allow people to carry guns in public. They would be frisked before entering an auditorium like this." I had been counting and he used the term 'shot' four times. He then added, "It is the greatness of the Indian democracy that we have people like Arundhati speaking so freely on Kashmir."

Just then, a friend who lived near my house called. I spoke to him trying to sound normal. He asked where I was and told me to come home fast. "There have been multiple blasts in Delhi." he said. "I know. Would you please not use the term?" I said.

It is always tricky when one gets a phone call soon after an incident. One is never sure whether to be indirect or speak clearly about the incident. The fact that Delhi University lecturer, SAR Geelani, was falsely implicated on the basis of a mere phone call is always at the back of my mind.

A little later, my parents called from Srinagar. "Are you alright? We saw something on TV," they asked. "Yes, I am good. Near home," I replied.