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People pen down their emotion with poems and stories on 26/11 Mumbai terror attacks

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Smrithi Mohan
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poems and stories on 26/11 Mumbai terror attacks

As we remember the victims and brave hearts who lost their lives in one of the most terrible days faced by our country, we have listed down poems and stories on 26/11 Mumbai terror attacks that capture our emotions.

Bullet holes, blood pool, cries and panic, the night of 26/11 Mumbai terror attacks still send chills down our spine. An unexpected night that no one imagined turning into a night of horror. The terrifying attack lasted for four days killing over 170 people and injuring over 300. Many innocents lost their lives and many brave hearts sacrificed their own to save the rest. The fright and horror of the day still say fresh in our minds many share their plight for the victims and respect for the brave hearts through poems and stories.

Take a look at the stories and poems on 26/11 Mumbai terror attacks:

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"I was barely 10 years old when a bullet pierced my right leg. It happened at CST station. I was with my father and brother and we had stopped for a while to use the restroom. Before we knew it, chaos had erupted all around us. My instinct told me to run and that’s when I saw the man who shot straight at me. I felt so much pain… I collapsed. The next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital the next day. The doctor informed us about what took place on 26/11. I was so angry. Flashbacks of women and children dying at the station came back to me. But the clearest memory I had was of his face. I spent 1.5 months in the hospital being operated for the wound, but I couldn’t get his face out of my mind. As soon as I was better, I moved back to my village with my family. My father was contacted by the police to testify in court. We had to identify the attacker since we were some of the only survivors. I wasn’t scared, I wanted him to be punished. Our extended family stopped talking to us after this decision… they thought they would be attacked by terrorists because we were testifying. I walked to court in crutches. Out of the four men presented to me, I immediately recognised Ajmal Kasab. My heart was filled with anger. I wanted justice right there. That’s also when I made the decision to become an IPS officer. I thought I was being brave, but after this everyone disassociated from us. My father’s dry fruit shop shut down because no one wanted to do business with him. Our landlords hiked the rent because they think we’ve made money out of the publicity. The State Government’s promise of a flat is still unfulfilled. But we’re not giving up because we did what we had to for the country. Even though Ajmal Kasab is no more, my anger will only fully subside once I become an IAS officer and fight all this injustice. ‘Till date, I can’t enjoy Diwali or celebrate India’s win in Cricket because the sound of fireworks traumatizes me -- I know I’m not getting all these years back, but there will be an answer someday. They will face the consequence of raising a finger towards India… I will make sure of it.” #superhumansofbombay

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“26th November 2008 began like any other day. I was a Banquet Manager at Taj, and because we were hosting a welcome party for the new chairman, we had to manage a lot of guests. 65 of us were gathered in the banquet hall – everything was going as planned when we suddenly heard some loud noises. My first thought was that someone might be bursting firecrackers. How wrong I was. But pretty soon, all our phones started pinging with calls and text messages telling us that gunmen had entered Taj. We immediately moved into action – we locked all the doors and switched off the lights. The guests began to panic and kept asking us why we weren’t letting them go. We told them about the situation at hand, and that’s when chaos ensued. I tried to calm them down and keep them quiet so as to not attract the attention of the terrorists. I did my best not to panic though. I had this gut feeling that things were going to be alright – I had faith in our armed forces. I knew they’d come for us. My mom, who wasn’t in Bombay at the time, called me to ask where I was. I lied and told her that I was safe at home. I didn't want her to panic and more than anything else I didn’t want to say goodbye. When we finally escaped at 5am through the window the next day, a lot of us decided to stay close to Taj – we did it because we wanted to. We wanted to be there to pick up the pieces, to help in any way we could. The day after everything cleared, we were back at the hotel to clean up. It broke my heart to see it in shambles, but somehow we pushed down our emotions, and did what needed to be done. It ended on the 29th – by then I was already home, watching it all on the news. I would cry every time I saw the images flash on the screen – but all of it just made me stronger. When I finally met my parents, the first thing my mother did was slap me…then she hugged me really tight. Not only them, but my family at Taj too, helped me get through everything. We built this place up brick by brick, and restored it to its former glory. Each hidden crack in the walls of Taj, remind us that courage and peace can be found within you, even in the hardest of times.” #SuperHumansofBombay

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