Author: Kavitha Iyer
Publication: The Indian Express
Date: July 16, 2006
URL: http://cities.expressindia.com/archivefullstory.php?newsid=192976&creation_date=2006-07-16
Introduction: After a close shave on Tuesday,
a 1993 bombings survivor asks why the injured are not rehabilitated
This is the last interview he will give, says
Kirti Ajmera.
Ajmera (49) nearly became a second-time victim
of terror when he missed one of the ill-fated trains on Tuesday by bare seconds,
but it's March 1993 that gets this marketing professional talking. As he speaks,
still bitter, memory bubbles over, fast and vivid. And, after 13 years, still
painful.
Ajmera was at Bandra on Tuesday, waiting to
go home to Malad. Two trains passed, a ladies' special and an Andheri train.
He'd have boarded the Borivali train scheduled
next-one compartment of this train blew up soon after, between Khar and Santacruz-but
his beeping cell phone stopped him. ''Then, everybody was talking about a
blast.''
For a few seconds, the God-fearing Jain stood
still, his mind rushing back 13 years to another blast: Bombay Stock Exchange,
March 11, 1993. He remembered his right arm hanging by a shred, a hole in
his right jaw showing broken teeth, a torn earlobe, broken ribs, blood oozing
out from everywhere.
He'd been about to walk into the iconic building
at 1.15 pm when the explosion flung him into the air. When he regained consciousness,
burning glass was ''raining'', slicing body parts as it fell, hundreds of
people-''there was a public issue launch that day''-were lying moaning or
dead. ''It was like a scene from the Ramayana or Mahabharata, when everybody
falls after an arrow is shot.''
Then came Tuesday.
''There must be some reason that God saved
me for a second time. This time, without even an injury,'' he says.
There are others to thank, a friend who almost
didn't recognise the bloodied Ajmera, a taxi-driver who showed up ''bhagwan
ke maafik, like God incarnate'' to ferry him to hospital, faceless blood donors
who responded to a call for AB-positive.
Also, a patient on the very first bed at Goculdas
Tejpal hospital's casualty ward died, making space for him.
Critical, he lay in Hinduja Hospital for two
months, teetering on the edge of coma, then refusing to allow his arm to be
amputated.
Nothing was the same later. Family income
suffered. Son Rushabh and daughter Ami, then aged seven and six years, couldn't
get the kind of education he'd planned. Their lifestyle couldn't keep up with
the medical bills. ''Nearly 40 surgeries, still going on, Rs 18 to Rs 20 lakh
spent,'' says the worried father. ''Not to mention the stress,'' adds a family
member.
Life for those injured in terrorist attacks
needs rehabilitation with government intervention, he stresses. Wife Raksha
remembers when an official said she could collect Rs 1 lakh if he died, but
injury compensation would be Rs 25,000.
The Ajmeras have sought assistance through
television interviews every anniversary of the bombing and, over the years,
have begun seeing their battle as one for all similar families. ''Still, no
government official, no corporator, no MLA ever came to help.''
The ideas are plenty: No cash, but free train
travel. A job for the offspring of the injured. Income tax waivers for corporates
who donate generously to rebuild these lives.
But officials don't care. So no more interviews,
Ajmera resolves.
