Narendra
Khandelwal
Share trader
Khandelwal, 57, doesn’t remember most of the events. He was somewhere between Khar and SantaCruz when the blast occurred and woke up to find himself in a hospital with multiple injuries. The only remnant of that day is his broken Nokia cell phone. He could have discarded the phone as a bad omen, but chooses to continue using it.
“I am not superstitious. Good or bad omens don’t mean anything to me. Life moves on. How can we get rid of our belongings by equating them with what destiny has to offer to us?”

Kishan Lakhani
Unemployed
Lakhani, 54, was returning from work carrying a lunch box and a wallet, when his compartment exploded at Mahim station. He was forced to jump and the box cracked. “I fractured my ankle and was limping while holding the tiffin in one hand,” remembers Lakhani. A year later, he has no job, an ankle that refuses to heal, and memories that refuse to fade.
“I have just washed the tiffin once and kept it, as I am sure it will be part of history. As for the railway pass, I have kept it for legal documentation.”

Shantabai Trimukhe and Shalini Jogdand
Homemakers
Shalini, 32, and Shantabai, 58, hopped into the Borivali-bound train at Bombay Central unaware that it was a first class compartment. The mother-daughter duo were headed home at Dharavi after a visit to the Mahalaxmi temple. At Mahim station, their compartment was ripped open by a powerful blast. They lost everything they were carrying that day, except the saris they were wearing. Today, Shalini is regularly on bed rest due to a slipped disc and Shantabai continues to be traumatised.The saris have not been thrown away—out of sheer practicality.
“Hamare paas itni saris nahin hain ki ye wali phenk de (We don’t have the luxury of throwing away these saris).”

... contd.