of bombs and reactions...

Three different bombings in one week in Lahore. That's quite a lot. I'm amazed at human adaptability. I remember when the first bombing took place in front of Lahore High Court, how it rattled me. My log of that day was also very brief. I couldn't articulate my feelings; I didn't know how to make sense of them. All I felt was a deep sense of dread.

A few weeks down massive terror has revisited the city and I'm much calmer than before even though 70 percent of my family lives in Model Town. A friend called me with the news, I was blissfully asleep. After the initial 10 second shock, I got up, told my mum to turn on the tv and started making calls with her. We checked with everyone and apart from shattered windows at an uncle's place who lives down the road of where the blast took place, everything seemed in order.

I got dressed and came to work. People were continuously discussing the blasts, expounding theories and basically just venting their frustration. When the news of the size of the bombs came in, things started to get more real. Apparently, with 65 kg explosives, you don't even need to get in a building to cause maximum damage. You can either run through the gate to get in the vicinity or--in the case of Model Town or our office--just slam the vehicle against the outer wall and that should do the job. Quite naively my colleague and I planned our escape route through the back of the building in any such event where there's nothing but a high wall. It took a few minutes for us to realise that this won't be one of those US university shootings where you can run away. We probably wouldn't even know what hit us. One minute we'd be chatting to each other across our glass partition and next thing we'd be hovering somewhere above looking down on the collapsed rubble thinking... wtf!. It'd be nice way of going though.. by not even realising it. I'd take post-life confusion over near-death terror any day.

So if I don't write here for a couple of months (considering how random i've become in logging my life), say a little prayer for me my chowkians and hope I didn't suffer too much.