Bombardier the Delhi-Gurgaon Metro

By Vikas Omprakash Bhakri

Terror is defined as a state of intense or overwhelming fear. Terrorism is defined as the systematic use of terror especially as a means of coercion. The term terrorism was first coined in the 1790s to refer to the terror used during the French Revolution by the revolutionaries against their opponents. It then gradually began to be used to describe the use of violent force by a state against domestic opponents to more recent-day definitions of being considered as violence aimed at governments to influence their policies or overthrow an existing regime.

India has been victim to the scourge of terrorism for more than four decades with activities involving killings, massacres, and bombings against the nation and its people having been carried out as recently as Pulwana (2019).

Out of the more than 100 attacks of terrorism since the 1980s, the six attacks that truly shook India were:

*1993 Bombay Blasts- 260 people killed and more than 700 injured.
*2001 Parliament Attack-9 policemen and a parliament staffer killed.
*2006 Mumbai Train Bombing- 209 people killed and more than 700 injured.
*2008 26/11 Mumbai attack in 2008- 174 people killed and more than 300 wounded.
*2016 Uri Attack- 18 soldiers killed in an attack on the Indian Army's 12 Brigade headquarters.
*2019 Pulwama Attack- 44 CPRF personnel killed and 20 injured in an attack on the police convoy.

*One such dreaded act of terrorism took place on the 29th of December 2011 sending shudders across the mighty nation of India- and the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Vikas Omprakash Bhakri
• Release date: Mar 13, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005486372

Vikas Omprakash Bhakri

Chartered Engineer, Marine Engineer, Master Mariner, Surveyor and Loss Assessor, Projects Consultant. Strong in my belief that an individual must not rest on one achievement and keep pursuing as many avenues as possible, I led myself to become a Certified Clinical Hypnotherapist, Master Practitioner of NLP, Life Coach, Motivational Speaker.Extremely fond of the fine arts, I also indulge in voice over’s, theater, and short film acting, the making of short movies-and now my foray into the world of writing books."Keep walking, keep moving, keep experiencing, keep learning- a rolling stone gathers no moss," are some words I adhere to in life.The Wanderer, Gypsy, Banjara (Hindi)... always on the move. Discovering; Reinventing myself with joy... Living... Loving...

Book preview

I

The Officers

The mercury had dipped to 5 degrees Celsius on the week's morning’s Thursday. A cold day, by New Delhi’s weather standards, but thankfully devoid of any fog. The capital of India experiences moderate to heavy fog for a few days during the month of December, and this leads to the disruption of air and rail traffic, as also that of the city's vehicular movement. The folks of New-Delhi looked forward to the winter, as it offered a good respite from the harsh summers of northern India. Besides easing the electricity supply problems, the cool months allowed people from the city and around India to take small breaks from their monotonous routines of life and head for the mountains of Himachal Pradesh or other colder regions of northern India. The main reason for the attraction towards these even colder states was the snowfall and the freedom to leisurely frolic in it.  

The two men were frisked physically with a hand-held detector after they walked across the metal scanner. They were in their early thirties, wearing smart navy blue colored sweaters, with rank epaulets shining on the flaps of their shoulders, and carried one large white canvas bag each. Having moved to the guard positioned at the metal scanner, they took out their identity cards and—flashing the same—explained with a modest smile, We are officers of the Indian Navy, and are carrying products from the Ayurveda shop near Sai Babas temple. You may check the bags if you so wish to, or have them passed through the X-ray machine. The Central Industrial Security Force constable glanced at their cards and smiled back. Oh. Baba Dev’s health products? But you get everything in your canteen store’s department. Why not buy it from there, sir? One out of the two replied, True, everything except these products—as of now. The CISF Constable responded with a smile, Okay, sir. You may go. There is no need to check the bags of personnel from our country's armed forces. CISF, which is a paramilitary force under the Ministry of Home Affairs, is entrusted with the security of the Delhi Metro Rail Corporation Network in Delhi and the national capital region. Both the naval officers walked away after thanking the guard, held their single journey fare tokens close to the AFC (automated fare collection gate), and upon getting a confirmation by the opening of the gate flaps, moved toward platform 1 of Chattarpur Metro Station, New Delhi. The metro train would take them to HUDA City Centre Station in Gurgaon. Twenty-five minutes after the two officers had boarded the metro at Chattarpur, a group of army officers in their fatigues, with identity cards clearly visible on their chests, aged between 36 and 40 years, crossed the physical body scanner at Huda City Center Station, Gurgaon. This was the originating and terminating point for all metro trains from and to Gurgaon. Each was carrying an olive green leather duffel bag which, by normal standards, was larger than usual. The sub-inspector on duty, who was admiring the well-polished stars on the shoulders of the army men, caught their gaze, and immediately came to a respectful attention. As the four officers moved towards the X-ray machine, one of the three Lt. Colonels looked back at the inspector and asked him in a polite, yet stern voice, Should we? The security force officer replied in the negative, a mistake he would regret for the rest of his life, and signaled to his junior, with a wave of his right arm, to let the army officials pass. Where is the necessity to check the bags of our brave men in uniform? he thought to himself. The Colonel put the duffel down on the floor and raised his hands to be frisked. The CISF constable—very hesitatingly -did a superficial scan of the Colonel and let him pass. He did the same for the other three Lt. Colonels. The four army officers walked across the token checking AFC gate and moved smartly towards the platform. The entire process had taken three minutes. Their train would be here on the tracks in the next two minutes. The metro from Chattarpur came to a halt at Huda City Center Station, with passengers disembarking and moving towards the exit. Two passengers, the Naval officers, re-boarded the train’s second compartment whilst the army officers boarded the fourth one. All six were seated comfortably with their respective bags in front of them. The train quickly filled up with passengers, their gazes intermittently directed toward these smart officers of the erstwhile Indian Armed Forces. No words were being exchanged between any of the four nor the other two in the second compartment. At its set time of departure, the metro moved out of Huda City Center station heading for its final destination of Jahangirpuri. The route was on the yellow line and it would take the metro train one hour, fourteen minutes, and forty-seven seconds to complete its journey of approximately forty kilometers (24.58 miles). Across every compartment of this 6-coach train, was the chatter of loud voices, friends exchanging words, mobile phones ringing and being answered to, and men-folk from the second coach staring into the first coach i.e. the ‘ladies only coach’. Nothing separated the men’s coach from the women’s, except the law. Then some stared aimlessly into space, talking to themselves in the realms of their ever-ready to interact mind, pondering over the yesterdays, and contemplating the tomorrows. The naval officers looked straight ahead without casting a glance at anyone in particular. They had already surveyed the lady's compartment with one fleeting look. In this singular glance, one of them noticed a blonde looking at him. She was tall, slim, and needless to say good-looking. In her mid-twenties, she seemed to be admiring the fine rugged looks that he had to his credit. Tall, athletic, with looks that resembled that of a handsome movie star. He turned his eyes away with a slight smile on his lips, being very aware of his oh to-die-for good looks, yet not bothered to indulge himself in every admiring glance that came his way. An expatriate working in one of the many BPO call centers here in Gurgaon, he thought to himself. The handsome man could see her intermittent but continued admiring gaze at him through the corner of his eyes. The silky glances from the blonde were making the naval officer feel awkward, leaving him with no other option but to subtly turn his face away to another side.

II

The Hijack

Five stations and fourteen minutes later, the metro crossed Arjan Garh. It was ten minutes past eleven in the morning. The office rush that took birth each morning of the weekdays had eased off by now, but the coaches remained fairly well occupied. The people of New Delhi and the national capital region had heaved a sigh of relief when the metro train operations started on the 24th of December 2002, what with the transport system of the capital being horrendously pathetic, as also that of the NCR. Overcrowded government transport buses, illegal private transport vehicles—notwithstanding their dilapidated condition—and mostly lawless traffic on the roads made traveling a nightmare for almost everyone. The Delhi Metro was a welcome mode of mass rapid transport, and people from all strata of society preferred using it. The Metro train service operates daily from about 05:30 am to 11:30 pm, with trains running at a peak frequency of 2-3 minutes, and has an average daily ridership count of 2.29-2.76 million. A pilot train runs across the rail circuit around 4:30 am at a speed of 40 km/hr (24.58 miles/hr) to check the integrity of tracks. During the elapsing of these fifteen minutes, three out of the four army officers had moved out to different coaches, in effect four of them occupying four compartments each. Half a minute into its travel from Arjan Garh to Ghitorni station, the metro was moving at a reasonably good pace when all seven, the four army officers, two naval officers, and one woman in the lady’s compartment, got up quickly, zipped open their respective bags, and with practiced swiftness launched smoke grenades, metal canisters containing a substance like hexachloroethane-zinc and granular aluminum that burns and expels smoke when ignited, into each of the six coaches resulting in smoke filling up the entire train instantly. The officers were aware