Long after the leaders had gone, two men from the Parliament Watch and Ward stood staring at the portraits that lined the wall between gates 11 and 12 of Parliament House. As he counted nine, the younger of the two whispered, ‘‘There could have been a tenth face there. I was lucky.’’The other man, who hadn’t said a word, simply nodded. His hands shook as he scooped some petals and placed them below the portraits, the warmth of the morning sun unable to shut out chilling memories of December 13 a year ago.For those who visited Parliament today, this little corner was a pilgrim point. There, etched in red sandstone, were the names of the brave nine who ‘‘foiled the terrorist attack on Parliament of India and died defending democracy.’’ Three Ashok Chakras and five Kirti Chakras remember the heroics of Jagdish Prasad Yadav, Matbar Singh Negi, Kamlesh Kumari, Nanak Chand, Rampal, Om Prakash, Bijender Singh, Ghanshyam and Desh Raj. One couldn’t agree more with the epitaph.Men and women returned to scan the outer walls for bullet marks, saved more as a reminder of that morning nightmare than a subject for future investigation. And all had one query: What if the terrorists had managed to force their way in? It also troubled Deputy Prime Minister L K Advani. As he joined other leaders to remember the nine, Advani made no secret of his worst fears. ‘‘They saved the nation from a terrible calamity. There would have been a bloodbath in Central Hall. And it would have been an attack on the very bedrock of democracy.’’US Ambassador Robert Blackwill, after paying floral tributes, recalled that a Congressman had told the House of Representatives this very day last year that ‘‘the attack against India, as with the attacks against the US, was not aimed at bringing down buildings.’’While Petroleum Minister Ram Naik was applauded for gifting petrol pumps from his discretionary quota to the next of kin of the nine, Lok Sabha Speaker Manohar Joshi reminded all that money and petrol pumps could never compensate the sense of loss. Throughout the remembrance ceremony, the spouses of the nine sat motionless, holding back their tears, some with faraway looks and others too overcome by the adulation, the glare of publicity and the company of the nation’s bigwigs.Clutching the letters of intent for allotment of pumps, they searched the crowds for a family member who could reassure them that every spoken word was meant for them. The passage of 12 months had clearly been too short to move on with life. But elsewhere in Parliament House, it has been business as usual: a barricade being pushed to a side to let a car through, MPs hopping off at gate 1, only to be chased by cameras until they disappear from view. The only difference between this December 13 and the one that prompted India to mass her armies on the border: more gun-toting personnel at the gates, more security layers, more queries, more careful scrutiny of entry passes. In short, a more heightened state of security to prevent a repeat of December 13.
