Read the headlines a few days ago; that one of those who had masterminded the 26/11 terrorist attack in Mumbai, and who is now in a prison in the US, has had a charge sheet filed against him by the Indian government. Hearing this, my mind immediately went back to that terrible night, when the attacks were organised at different places which the terrorists had chosen, or randomly decided to strike. Two of the places they assaulted were the CST Station and a little farther, the Madam Cama hospital.

Between both these places where hundreds lost their lives, as the terrorists sprayed the areas with machine gun fire, was the Press Club, and in the press club, I was having dinner with the editor of a Chennai newspaper, where we were discussing terms for my column in his newspaper.

And suddenly terrified reporters were running in with the electrifying and terrifying news that hundreds were being shot dead on either side of us, just a few metres away.

Till date, I have no idea how these shooters didn’t enter the press club and kill all of us, which I am sure would have been the biggest achievement for them, as the club at that moment was crowded with we journalists, supposedly mouthpieces for the nation.

But it was not to be. We could not go out of the premises, because the killers used that very road, killing among others four top police officials, whose jeep we heard speeding down the very road we were holed up in.

The press club was actually a sitting duck. It was new, it had all its lights blazing, and would have been a shooter’s delight, and would have been one time when the gun might have been mightier than the pen.   

But we were spared, and it’s the act of being spared I would like to address today. All of us at one time or another have escaped major and minor catastrophes and calamities. It could be minutes away from a pile up, or the missing of a plane, or even slipping but not having a major fall.

Have you ever wondered whether there’s a reason for the same? Someone up there says, “I’ve got a purpose for him, let’s protect him!”

And our purpose in life after such a ‘protected’ experience is to surrender to the Protector!

If those same fellows had entered the Press Club with their Ak-47s, we would have been on our knees pleading for our lives and surrendering ourselves to their mercy.

But in being spared, isn’t ‘surrender’ still the password? That we who have escaped, whether it be a bullet or an accident, surrender our lives and actions from that day on to the One who saved us?

Think deeply about it, and you’ll find a purpose in life, from knowing what the One who saved you wants you to do from now onwards..!  

bobsbanter@gmal.com