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ShareAs I sit to pen this column on late-nights out, I recall that fateful Wednesday night that replays umpteen times in our psyche. Its aftermath has given a completely tragic spin on what can happen when you are out in the city on a late night out...
My mind travels back to a conversation I had had with my daughter when the
terror trail had tried to derail the city. Years ago, at three, she was too young to remember the bomb blasts of the '90s. But the recent terror attacks were for her and her generation very 'now'. I warned her very protectively, "It's important that you let me or Dad know where you are, particularly when you move from one point to another or venture on a route you would not normally take."
It was a warning that, with the confidence and cockiness of youth, she neglected a few days later. She with her group of friends had casually moved from CCD in Prabhadevi to Barista in Bandra....as twilight had descended over the city. "Mom, what can happen...it does not happen to us, chill," my blithe spirit had retorted.
Today we know that it can happen to any of us...to you, to me, to our kids...our friends, families...people down the road. And I think everyone has realised that.
On that Wednesday my friend's daughter was celebrating her birthday at a Colaba restaurant. The group managed to seek safety late in the night in one of their homes nearby. Till she came home the next evening, the family did not rest, as did all of us across the city, country and even in many parts of the world fearing for the city and its city-zens.
To end on a lighter note, let me go recall a complaint I often heard from my buddy: "My son sleeps after college all evening and is up for half the night." She brought the office down with her dry narration when a day after his birthday party at home we asked her how it went. Apparently, he had invited a host of teenagers over for a dinner party.
After stocking up the house with food -- lots of pizza and pasta and coolers --- the parents went out for a drive on Marine Drive. When they returned around 11 pm, she found the cops in the colony. And the kids were all downstairs. "Oh my God," she had groaned. "The neighbours had complained about the noise..." Luckily, for her peace of mind, it was nothing serious. And the cops had nothing to do.
This time around, unfortunately, it was serious, much...much more.... My son in fact brought it home to me recently. We had celebrated my daughter's 18th birthday on November 6 at the Taj, staying there till late at night. "What if she had been born 20 days later?" he asks me.
The ifs and buts of life are many, but the fear runs deep. So, when I return home a few hours later than normal from work, I get missed calls on my mobile and finally a frantic message from my son, "Mom, are you ok?"
It will probably take some time for late-nights to become a norm again...and a bone of contention between teens and parents....
