First off, for everyone who cared to call/mail/sms/do all three, I'm ok! Got caught in those five glorious, rain-soaked, runways-flooded-all-flights-diverted-days but made it out before the riots and bomb blasts.
I woke up one troubled, demented morning and watched the news, blurry-eyed and disbelieving as images washed over me - rivers of blood being washed away from railway platforms, mangled bodies removed from mangled metal, confused bloodied Mumbaikers walking in a haze looking for a relative, a hospital, a missing arm. A pinprick of relief that I escaped and then flooded by guilt at happiness in a time of sadness. A cold, surreal numbness as the news ticker-scrolling at the bottom of the screen told me Syd Barrett just died. A sense of infinite loss? Confusion? Relief? Anger? When I place my coffee mug on the table and turn off the tv and allow myself to feel all these things, I will tell you.
For now, I have become comfortably numb.