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Journalism of Courage
Three years ago when Mohammad Tahir Ansari, the eldest among a family of three brothers and four sisters, came to Mumbai, he had only one dream: to provide for the family. His father was without a job, and he had four sisters who had to be married.
As a computer hardware engineer with Tata Indicom — his office was in Bandra— this eastern UP boy had only begun to feel good: living with his uncle, he was able to do what he came to Mumbai for, his family was happy and the future didn’t look all that dark after all. But 7/11 changed everything.
He was waiting at Mahim station when splinters from an explosion that had just occurred on another train hit him. He fought for his life for a full day, but couldn’t hold on any longer. The young guardian of their large family died at a hospital in Parel.
“Woh us gadi mein nahi mara jisme woh safar kar raha tha. Woh Mahim ke platform per khada tha jab ek dhamaka doosri gadi mein huan aur udte lohe ke tukre us per gire (He did not die in the train in which he was traveling. He died while waiting for another train at Mahim, when splinters from a blast in another train hit him),” clarifies his mother, Salma Bano.
Inconsolable, Salma is taking one day at a time. She has been doing this for over four months now, but can’t find answers to the questions that keep gnawing at her. Why? Who? Why did it have to be my son, he wasn’t even on that train? What will happen to us?
What’s making it even more difficult for the family is that Tahir was engaged. Shahina, who used to stay at a labour camp in Bandra, and he were to be married soon. But it was not to be. That day, it was she who had to play a big part in looking for, and then finding, him in hospital.
On July 11 after hearing about the blasts, Shahina immediately got in touch with Tahir’s senior at Tata Indicom who told her he had left office around 6 pm. He caught the 6 pm local from Bandra and was waiting for another train at Mahim.
“We got a call at our neighbour’s place in the evening of July 12,” recalls Salma. “My husband and I left for Delhi immediately. We took a flight from there and reached Mumbai in the afternoon of the next day. At 6 pm that day, we received the body of my eldest son. We buried our son in Mumbai.”
Not many in the family want to talk. But the youngest among Tahir’s siblings, Mohammad Shaquib, looks crestfallen. “My brother was my only friend. He used to play with me a lot when he was here in Kunda. We are totally shaken, we miss him a lot.”
Tahir’s father and a brother are now in Mumbai carrying his photographs and documents to prove his identity so that they can get the compensation. “Paisa to kal khatam ho jayega, nahi khatam honge to uski yaden (Money will get over soon, but his memories will remain with us forever),”says Salma, who lost her father when she was 13.
“Whom should I complain to? The government takes action only after an incident happens. It never takes precautionary measures so that lives of hundreds of innocent bread winners can be saved,” she adds.
