22 years back, it was this day, just one of those warm afternoons during Diwali vacations, in Billimora, after a quarrel with my sisters, was waiting on the veranda for dad to arrive for lunch, while arranging & re-arranging in my mind as to what to say and what not to say when mom reports that 3 of us got into a muddy fight and messed up the house, to have the first go at how it was never my fault.
Just then I heard the vijaya super, MZA 9932, turning into our lane and ran to open the gate for him to drive smoothly into the parking. There were no fruits or any comics that day and he seemed to be in a hurry. I was all set to start my story, when he brushed me aside and said switch on the TV and said something about somebody being killed. All ready to do a favour to escape a scolding, ran to switch on the 1975 B&W model, Mandelia. Soon mom was in the living room and dad was telling mom, Indira Gandhi, our Prime Minister was shot dead. More than the news it was the way dad & mom were conversing that I got all engrossed and lost for a while. All the papers, radio & TV were screened for a little more information than the other.
After the initial shock, came the actual shock when we realized what it meant. It was followed by a week of sitar wadan on TV and radio with all entertainment called off. All the favourite programs like chitrahaar, evening serials and the whole of Sunday was doomed.
2 comments:
I was staying in Varanasi, when this had happened. We didn’t have television at home and we rushed upstairs to Mr.Chaterjee’s house and watched the news. Within hours all shops were shut!
and we were figuring ways on how to help our sardar friend hide his head so ppl dont figure out he is a sardar on his way to reach home after playing with us.
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