Je ne suis pas Charlie Hebdo (I AM NOT CHARLIE HEBDO)

2 days back, I woke up to see my social media timeline filled with posts like

“I am Charlie Hebdo”

“This is the death of Freedom of Press! #RIPmankind”

“The only way to respond is to share the cartoons of Charlie Hebdo and see how many people can those terrorists kill”

The messages carried out a strong emotion. The sent out a strong message. I was amazed as to what had happened. I read about the incident from the online pro-active media and was disturbed. It was an attack on the freedom of speech. It was not right to kill them at any cost. Continue reading


Afzalgunj Road


     His hand started to search for his mobile. After a minute struggle, he could finally land his thumb on the snooze button.

45 min later…

     He was at the bustand waiting for 273B. He needs to be at LokManya Auditorium,Afzalgunj Roadby 10.00AM. He looked at his watch. The minutes hand touched 12 and the time is 9.00AM.


      The bus raced into the busbay. He boarded the bus and took a ticket to Afzalgunj stop. He dumped himself onto the corner seat of the lastrow. The bus was moving at a fast pace and he could feel the cool wind current coming from the window. And he dozzed.

         He violently jolted as the bus suddenly stopped. He woke up from his deep nap. A car at the traffic signal exploded and fire outburst in all directions. The truck carrying the plastic goods caught fire and worsened the situation. Everyone was running here and there, trying to save themselves. As he was watching all this from his window seat, the fire from the truck reached the bus he was in and within seconds, the bus caught fire. He managed to jump out of the window and in this process tore his trouser. He cut his index finger and there were scratches on his elbow and back. The blood droplets started to trickle down from his index finger. He looked around and was terrified to find to spot his wife and child near the departmental stores. He started to run towards the stores and booomm……..there was another explosion near the stores. There was chaos everywhere and he was thrown back a few meteres because of the intensity of the explosion. He tried with great effort to stand on his own, but he couldn’t. He took the rod beside him and slowly stood up. He looked at the stores. It was completely covered with dust and smoke. He tried to walk but stumbled as soon as he tried to move. Trying to hold onto his senses, he started to crawl towards the stores.

        With great struggle, he reached the stores. There were deadbodies scattered everywhere, wounded people are crying out for help. He searched for his wife and child. Under the debris of the display board of the stores, he spotted the sari she wore today. He crawled towards the debris. He found her body completely burnt and his child was cut into two at his abdomen and was severely burnt. Seeing them, his heartbeat stopped for a second. He tried to cry but he couldn’t. He wanted to die, but he couldn’t.

      He felt someone shaking him up. He slowly opened his eyes. He was in the bus waiting at the signal, to turn to green, 200mts from the LokManya Auditorium. He got down from the bus. He walked straight to the gate of LokManya Auditorium. He looked at the bag he was holding. He took a deep breath. He moved a few blocks ahead  and entered the Afzalgunj Police station.

  “Who are you?”, the inspector asked him.

 “I am Habib. And… I..I Was a terrorist” and he handed over his bag containing explosives.