Wednesday refused to pass away without disturbing us further. Thankfully, all 15 of me and my room-mates got back home in good time, unfazed by the disharmony that had erupted. TV was our only mirror to the goriness engulfing the end of an era...
Somehow, we managed to cook a decent dal-rice meal for us with the supplies available and went off to sleep hoping for a better day on this uncalled, unprecedented holiday... Thursday dawned like any other except for the fact that it was different... Though things seemed the same; there was an unspoken unease in everything... Shops hadnt opened even at 8am and it seemed unlikely that life on the roads would spring up. To add to this conundrum, everyone was home looking a lil dull and weary of what might follow...
TV was switched on and the only thing staring back was darkness ... Cable had been cut off and only news channels were open. Incidents of mob violence were reported with alarming regularity and the circus engulfing the legend was a scary sight...
It was clear that the day was one for the black books and only sadness would prevail in the end... Mob violence was gonna turn ugly; that 6 people including a cop would die cos of this was out of anyone's imagination. That people would go without food for the whole day was assumed to b as true as Newton's laws of gravity. That the dead and gloom would make life a misery was now etched out...
We...... all 15 of the flat mates..... finally realized... Rajkumar hadnt died himself... He was taking a part of Kannada heritage with himself.... The death of a civilized society plastered across our souls by the unabashed mortification of goriness was shuddering our beliefs to the deepest cores...
The news that was gonna linger in our minds was : " SIX PEOPLE DEAD. MOB FURY TAKES AN UGLY TURN IN BANGALORE. RAJKUMAR'S SOUL RESTS IN PEACE.. ." The CITY doesn't.....
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