Five years had passed since he died but I still remember that night. It was a quiet day without any signs of death notice. I worked as a waitress at a cafeteria, 3rd floor, in The Taj. I was at my duty on time. The hotel’s dim light and the long red carpet welcomed us to our death jaws. But who did know that? We entered in without realising it is our death canal.
The residents and the tourists gathered around the restaurants for their breakfast and after lunch some headed back to their rooms while others stayed in the lobby. We cleaned up the tables and prepared the menu for that evening. Then we had our breaks. I finished my meal and decided to have some sleep. I was in the middle of my nap when I heard a howl all over the place.
“What happened?”I asked my colleagues who looked horrified.
“We are being attacked, there are terrorist in the hotel!”They cried with fear.
We dared not open the door of our restroom. We remained indoors for nearly three hours holding one another tight. The continuous sound of the guns and the pathetic voice of the innocents shook the whole hotel.
Nearly three hours had passed and the place became calm and quiet. I opened the door and we four slowly crept out. The scene was empty and there were no signs of any living beings. We held our breaths and walked across the corridor and halted in front of the door that led into the main lobby. I slowly turned the knob and examined the area. It was clear and so we sneaked in one by one. No sooner we entered there were fire shots everywhere. We were all scattered and I fled in a direction in which my legs carried me.I ran into a door and got tripped in the stairs that rolled me into a dark end.
I was badly hit on my head and I fainted. I was waked up by the splash of blood and I was terrified to see a man covered with blood lying beside me. He was shot badly on his right leg and was bleeding. I tied up his wound and decided to look out for help. There was no way we could escape through the front door that opened to the ground floor. It was packed with gunmen and it was like an open graveyard. We climbed up the stairs and we reached a door. Both of us hesitated for a moment and he turned to me:
“Hey listen! Let me go first and you wait here till I come and get you. If you hear any shots firing then run away, don’t bother about me. Alright?”
He seemed not less than thirty. He was like a business man with his tuxedo on. I simply nodded and he left. At that time I was surprised by his care and I felt comfortable to have someone in company in such a fearful situation. After a minute or two the door slid open and he let me in. He struggled to walk. It was almost dark and we followed the light that led to the back window. It was first floor; I noticed it in the broken plate above the lift.
We peeped out of the window and the whole scene was crammed with policemen, fire engines, press reporters and the helpless public. But we couldn’t shout for help as we felt that we could be heard by those animals. We rested that night below window hoping for some help. We kept our sleep aside may be because it could be our last chance for our eyes to be open.
“Is it hurting a lot?”I whispered.
“Yes!”He mumbled with pain.
I saw his face in the flash of light from the window. He was growing pale. He seriously needed help. Before I could say anything, “don’t worry about me, just run away and save your life” he reminded.
An idea suddenly stroked my mind. Every scavenger had an exit that led only to the ground floor garbage to dispose the waste. I assured him that I would come and get him and I attempted to find that way. I stammered to walk as the place was dark and scattered. I tried every door on the way and finally found the exit as it always had a horrible stench due to the damped garbage.
I definitely had a smile when I found that door but it was shorted lived. I wondered how to get back to him again because I might lose the way. But it was not fair as I blindly remembered the direction. It was a narrow passage, flanked with many rooms, that opened up into the front hall and there was another corridor with rooms that led into the window where the man lied.
As I began to walk back I heard some footsteps on the front hall. I quickly hid myself inside that exit. For a moment I thought I was so dead. The sound of the scratching footsteps began to diminish and from somewhere far away I heard a familiar voice, “don’t worry about me, run away, run”
There went a huge gunshot. I was helpless and had no other option but to climb down the stairs. I ran down as far as I could and finally reached the end. I saw the door that turned into the car park and did not stop running until I reached place surrounded by the cops and spectators.
I fell on the ground and literally cried. I could not believe that I was alive. But I felt sorry I couldn’t help that poor kind man. I even don’t know his name but his pale face still haunts me. Years have passed and there is still a whole punched in my heart and his helpless voice brings tears in my eyes.
H. Maryam Fathima
II BA English Literature
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