Going back to the Taj Mahal Hotel...

I was engaged in a typically boisterous post lunch discussion the other day - one anecdote during the discussion stuck with me ......about going back to Ahd. today - eight years after the state sponsored pogrom killed thousands in the walled city there and still seing tell tale signs of the destruction and mayhem, about how the emotional response within the walled city is still rather muted and understated and how a certain undercurrent of tension still rules...

This got me thinking - perhaps the trial for the Bombay terror attack should be held in the Taj Mahal hotel - just to show the world - how we have returned it to its glory, to show Kasab - he is but an erasble blot in our quest to retain and maintain our freedom and liberty.....

The article below is by CNN's correspondent in India - she was here to cover Kasab's trial. Reading it gave me goose pimples.......

Posted: 1719 GMT

MUMBAI, India — I was there watching the horror and feeling helpless. As I rattled on with the few details authorities would give us I stood, ducked and sometimes crouched next to my colleagues from all over the world as they did the same.

Children play at the hotel pool which left an mark on CNN’s Sara Sidner.
Children play at the hotel pool which left an mark on CNN’s Sara Sidner.

The scene was sheer madness unfolding before our eyes and through the camera’s lens.

I was posted outside the Taj Hotel and Tower in Mumbai when terror rained down on India’s financial capital for days last November.

For the 72 hours I was there, I slept exactly three, the same goes for many of my CNN colleagues working beside me or at other scenes.

There were four active scenes for at least two days. I happened to be posted at the one that ended last in a blaze of fire, bullets and grenade blasts.

Friends and co-workers watching on their television screens told me later it looked like a movie. But a movie ends in two hours. This went on for three days.

It looked like and felt like hell from the outside. On the inside it was hell for the dozens of workers and guests still alive but trapped as the dead lay where they were gunned down.

Today I am back at the scene for the first time since the attacks. I made myself stand in the same spot where I reported from and again turned to look at the majestic building.

I didn’t want to go in at first. I was afraid of what I might feel. But I didn’t want to remember it the way I first laid eyes on it. So I started walking towards the lobby of the 106-year-old building.

On the outside, the heritage part of the hotel still has boards covering some of the windows. The ones I watched burst with flames five months ago.

I had to pass white barricades that now lace the once open breezeway. There are three layers of security including an X-ray machine for every bag each guest brings with them.

Once inside you wouldn’t know at first glance what happened here. The lobby is spotless.

But walk a dozen steps towards a glass enclosed area with a waterfall and you see a tree, a large marble plaque, and a sobering message. It has the names of the 31 people who died during those terrible four nights and three days.

Many of the public spaces have been restored. We walked farther in to the immense staircase that looks like something out of a fairytale. Not a thing out of place. Immaculate and almost too much for the eye to take in.

But as you climbed to the top there was another reminder. White planks of wood blocked two large windows that once looked out on to the ocean.

Then it was off to the poolside. I got one of those chills down my spine as I walked out between the chairs. It’s because of that image in my head.

The image from the front page of a newspaper the morning after the attacks started. A man who was likely enjoying his drink poolside had been gunned down. He died there. Click. That picture won’t leave my head.

But then you hear the noise of happiness. Children are splashing in the pool and adults are chatting and enjoying their lives.

It’s trite but true; life goes on. Honestly, sometimes I forget to enjoy mine. What a fool I am.

The crew and I are staying at the Taj Mahal Palace and Tower for a couple of nights. We’re here to cover the first day of the trial of the lone surviving suspect in the Mumbai attacks.

I picked the Taj as our hotel on purpose, I guess I needed to see a bit of normalcy here after what I witnessed from the outside.

I’m staying in the tower that is fully up and running. It had minimal damage during the attack. But next door in the old world rooms of the tower’s older sister there is still a lot of work to do.

Of the 565 total rooms in the two buildings only 268 can be occupied. All I can say right now is, I am glad to be one of the occupants.

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