26/11. We were livid, we were furious. Absolute indignation. Candle light vigils. Signature campaigns.u00a0“How can they have come from the seas and burnt our Taj Mahal Hotel, the pride of Mumbai? What were our security forces doing? Do you know my poor aunt hid under her hotel bed all night? How dare a handful of Lashkar terrorists hold our entire city to ransom…our Leopold Cafe shot at, CST attacked, Cama Hospital and Chowpatty Beach are all under fire - how can we have let this happen? We need to do something about this. The time has come. India must wake up. We must write to the Home Minister, the Chief Minster, the Prime Minister, I know someone who knows Soniaji...this is a serious matter.”u00a0

We gnashed, we snarled, we growled, we spit fire, we spit brimstone. We sprayed our verbal bullets like Kasab had shot his real ones – all aimed at Pakistan, aimed at Parliament, aimed at politicians, aimed everywhere, with no specific plan. We signed petitions, waxed pedantic, spewed proverbs, quoted prophets, climbed on pedestals, hit at imaginary punching bags...real anger followed by theoretical action. And then, amnesia.