“We first danced on January 1 at another wedding in 1979 and tied the knot in October the same year,” says Clara, 52, with a smile. On July 11, the blast on a train at Matunga station snatched him from her.

A recruitment consultant at Fact Personnel Agency, Louis was returning home in Malad from his Grant Road office. “I still cannot figure out why he boarded the Virar Fas— it does not halt at either Malad or Kandivali from where our house is very near,” says Clara, who was on another train bombed around the same time that day. But she was fortunate — the coach targeted was several coaches away from hers.

“The train had just left Khar station. We heard a loud noise and it stopped. People were running and shouting at a distance ‘bomb hai, bhago’. The women in my compartment told me to jump. I was scared because of the height. Also, I am diabetic. But I jumped,’’ says Clara.

As she collected herself and looked ahead, she saw flesh and blood on the tracks, and the injured crying out in pain in front of the bombed compartment. “My hands and legs were shaking, I was shivering, but all I could think of was Louis. I tried calling him again and again, but his cellphone was not reachable. I thought he was safe and wanted him to pick me up,’’ she says.

Clara reached home by 10:30 pm and found Louis hadn’t returned. It was later that she and her daughter Sarena, 19, learnt from Louis’s friend, who was also injured, that Louis, bleeding profusely, had been lying on the tracks and had asked a passerby to call up his family. But the stranger had walked away with his cellphone.

“We didn’t know how and where to look for him. So we remained glued to the TV thinking that we might spot him in some hospital. Sarena’s friends searched the hospitals without success,’’ says Clara.

Next morning, Clara went to the kitchen to make coffee as usual, believing that Louis would walk in any time. Sarena, her friends and neighbours went to the hospitals. They found Louis’s body at Sion hospital and contacted Clara. “Mom completely lost control, shook daddy’s leg and told him to get up, but he didn’t,” says Sarena, breaking down.

“Even today I send SMSes on his number, keep calling despite knowing there is no one at the other end to receive it,” says Clara.

“A diehard fan of vegetarian food”, Louis made it a point that Clara cooked it exactly the way it tasted in his Gujarati colleague’s tiffin. “I would get irritated when he demanded vegetarian food even in the evenings,” says Clara. “We need fish curry and rice at least once a day, I would tell him.” But Louis knew how to convince his wife: “He always sang Jab Koi Baat Bigad Jaye and down went my temper.”

Sarena, studying in St Andrew’s College for a Bachelor’s degree in arts, says: “Daddy loved old songs. Most days, after prayers and playing solitaire on the computer, he would slip into his own world where there was just him and his small transistor.”

Today, Sarena is other mother’s strongest support as her brother Ashley, 25, is in Qatar working for Qatar Railways. “He had just got a double promotion and both father and son had a fun get-together for about 10 days in June,” says Clara.

Three years ago, Louis had met with a serious accident after dropping off Clara’s sister at the airport. A van rammed his Maruti car. “But he first rescued our driver and washed his face with water from a nearby hutment, and only then got himself admitted in a hospital,” says Clara.

At the Sequerias’ warm home, there is a giant aquarium with several varieties of fish in it. “They were Louis’s pets. As soon as he reached home, he would first feed them and only then look at us,” says Clara.

Late in the night on July 11, three of the goldfish died. Many more died in the next few days.