Yesterday was a Wednesday, the day for public interest litigation at the Delhi High Court. On Wednesdays, a lot of people aggregate around the reception area for court passes. PILs are filed and deliberated.
What does it mean to be the victim of a blast? A story in the paper described the journey of a woman from the outskirts of the city who had come to the high court yesterday, accompanied by her father and younger son, to follow up on the bail application of her elder son, who is lodged in Tihar Jail. He has been accused of murder and has been in Tihar for the past two years now - without trial.
In those two years, her eighty-year-old father fought alongside her to secure her son's bail, but could not make any headway. They received a date for their bail plea at the high court. They arrived at the court yesterday and waited in the reception area for their court pass, but an explosion ripped through the area around 10.15 in the morning. Her father died later in the hospital of heavy injuries.
She will return home now. Her son will continue to remain incarcerated in Tihar Jail without trial.
On the day that was supposed to have been the culmination of their efforts for the past two years, she lost another member of her family.
In the meantime, life will go on. The metro did not halt its services yesterday. The roads were as full of traffic as on any other day. Life in the city will not, or cannot, come to a standstill. And if our vulnerability were to play on our conscience, we will forget it in a day or two. No one can live in a state of siege, even those who have been denied justice for two years and more.