The morning's hustle-bustle comes to an ephemeral halt. The little red window reveals a massive crane toppled sideways onto the road alongside... breaking walls, spewing blood.We chug through the chaos, make our way to the station, somehow. Everybody seems startled.
I run to the first train I see...It's time to rush to work, keeping the delay in mind. The train is relatively empty, I settle into a seat... armed with a newspaper to keep me company. A voice shakes me out of my stupor, a hefty woman tells us we're under high alert, following the Jaipur blasts. She yells out an Emergency number, warns us to keep hawkers and beggars out of the train. Just as she makes her way out, a young magazine seller clambers up the train.
The hefty woman shuffles up to the man, 'traps' him, or so she says. She goes on to humiliate him, call the emergency number and scorn him as he pleads forgiveness. As the train enters the next station, she proceeds to push him off.
I watch, teary-eyed. I wonder how lashing out at the innocent, lashing out at the poor serves any purpose at all. In a few moments, I think, all innocence is lost. There's a lot of unfairness in this world. In those moments, I wonder if there is a God. There ought to be, I think. There ought to be, I think, to set this unfairness right.

A few days later, I see the same magazine seller climb up the train.
Life, life goes on.