I missed it. I plain and simple missed it, missed witnessing history. Missed being a part of a moment forever lost in time, an iconic moment I'll never get a other shot at reliving.
As I type, thousands upon thousands of Indians are reveling in Anna Hazare's victory. I'd left home today with the sole intention of being there when Anna Hazare would declare, “Hum Jeet Gaye!” to a rapturous crowd. I'm not a part of this movement, as a journalist-in-the-making it is not my job to take sides. But when you're within walking distance of history every day, there is no excuse for missing it.
I knew Deshmukh was headed to Ramlila Maidan to give Anna the news and that all hell would break loose. But the fact that Anna wouldn't be ending his 12-day long fast tonight held me back. I suppressed my instinct. At all times I knew I was a 15-minute walk away from a very very emotional experience, but I held back. Now that it's starting to crash over me I can't bear to watch the TV coverage, I'm almost grateful my roommate's chosen to completely ignore the magnanimity of the situation and watch 'India's Got Talent' for the past half hour. A single glimpse of NDTV would make me dunk my head into the toilet bowl.
I've been known to display exemplary stupidity on countless occasions before, but this tops them all. So it seems just that the cook disappeared when I got home leaving behind a solitary roti. I deserve to go to bed tonight without eating my fill. Hopefully it will serve to remind me that later in my career, such errors will result in many nights where I'll have to go completely hungry.
