They stand as witnesses. Testimony to the violent behaviour of the crowd. A crowd that went berserk, over a public figure. Some were killed, some were injured. But, the fight continued. Most say that a political party is responsible, for the madness that was set afire.
Two petrol stations razed to the ground(if not burnt), two hotels burnt, a mob which pelted stones on every vehicle. Shards of glass, which were to be seen even after, the glowing embers were moistened.
Unruliness ruled when a top kannada actor, died,a natural death. Who is to blame? Is it fate, or is it god? these are the two solutions that a mind resorts to, when in suffering.
I pass a particular hotel, and a certain petrol station, on my way to the bus-stop. Black soot covered the hotel. Reminding me of the flames which burnt it, to be watched helplessly by the rest of us.
Not comprehending the extent of damage incurred, i wondered, as to why the petrol bunk never functioned that day, or for a few more days to come. For a moment, i forgot that, the area was cordoned.
Time passes by, forcing people to thread the same path, over and over again, until the occurance of strange incidents, suddenly. My routine required me to see, the wreckage, the marred appearance, resulting out of human callousness.
Shattered glass, hold proof, to the fight between the law-enforcement wing and the rioters. Burnt rubber, the obnoxious,acrid smell, reaching our lungs, filling us in, on the terrible situation outside our secure homes.
Presently, life's back to normal, things look good, with repaired doors, coloured glass inviting people.