Shall I cry or shall I die?

Will I feel the terror? Zuuuuuuuuuuuuup….the question crosses my mind and I go blank. 

There is a flashback.

The deafening silence is quickly replaced by the echo of those hundreds of innocent people crying, whose fate was decided by me, with a remote control in my hand. I am responsible for 13 blasts, in which 234 people have been officially reported dead. 13, as they say is unlucky, proven correct, for me at least.

That night, it was a little darker and a little colder than usual. I could not see my own body. I planted the bomb. Suddenly the whole area lit up by the golden coloured, dark energized, fire. Boom it went and I could see people melting. The aroma merged with the fumes, and I could smell the human scent. I was used to all this. I could see torn bodies and blood graffiti all around. A little bone with flesh around it fell on my foot. It was a tiny hand. It felt as if it was seeking my blessings. The multicoloured band around that little wrist absorbed all the colours of my life.


My 3 year old daughter was dismantled. The word family got erased from my dictionary as I went sniffing everywhere, searching for the remains of my daughter and my wife. My clothes were drenched in the fragrance of my daughter’s hand as I held on to it, for it seemed to be the only part of her left with me. I was dejected and broken. The guilt started to overpower me. For once in my life, I felt the same pain and the feeling of being helpless like the common man, when there is a bomb blast. I wanted to rid myself of the guilt, it was too overpowering, and although killing myself was the easiest solution, I just did not want to die in an easy fashion.


Today, I have injected myself with some drug which has paralyzed me physically; however, I can still feel. I see the train advancing towards me with all the hatred in the world for me. I am going to die every moment till the time I’m dead. My heart beat starts to pump up, I start sweating. She comes and goes through another track. It was a close call.

And I've got the answer to the question that once hounded my mind as I terrorised the world around me.


Yes, I feel terror struck for the first time, lying on the railway track. I guess this is what I deserve, or maybe even worse...