"Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,

 Pray to the gods to intermit the plague

 That needs must light on this ingratitude"

Trust me, this is one thing I did not want to blog about. However, I had a talk with Antoreep and he said that there is only one way of letting people know and telling them on their faces what kinds of bastards they are. We decided that the only way to let more people know was to write.   

Go read this.

When I arrived in college, at around one fifteen, I saw that gate number four had crumbled down. One of my friends said, ironically, that she thought that the gate had been built and it was being opened ceremonially. At first I didn’t know what to do and went to the department, only to find people carrying on with their work and making yesterday’s biggest joke. Let me tell you the joke at first. There is this play being staged. It’s a big thing, you know. Every year the department puts up a play. Great academic and extra curricular enterprise. So one of the props in this play is an air gun. The joke is that just when this air gun was fired, the gate fell down. Funny, innit? I also saw a few of my professors in the department. There was a meeting, some moderation business and whatever shit I know not of. Everyone is busy. Very busy.

Once I got down, I gave Antoreep a call and he said that they needed people out there. After I went in, the worst day of my life had begun. What I saw yesterday cannot be described in words. When I went in, there was one more person trapped inside. There were not enough security guards. The workers out there, the security guards, the firebrigade…but there were not enough people. What surprised me was that there were very few students. I just want to know something. What if a student had been trapped inside? The boys we saw on television from the engineering faculty writing on posters… would they have come to help out? I couldn’t believe the curiosity of people. We were unable to remove them and had to shout and scream and push in order to ensure that the ambulance got in. None of the professors from our esteemed departments came down except for Amlanda and Manashda. Few were gawking from the ledges. Spectacle, it was. 

Students like you and me stood there. Smiling and taking photographs on their cell phones. Let me not open my foul mouth regarding the press. What do we call this? Sadism? Apathy? Indifference? Bastardy? I have no fucking words. 

How could people conduct a rehearsal when one person was buried a few meters away? One of them came and told me today that he was feeling useless. Indeed. That is what all of us are. Useless. If there had been more people, maybe one more life could be saved. But who gives a damn anyway, eh? The fourth labourer was inside the rubble for two and a half hours. I just pray that he died instantly.

I detest myself for being part of an institution which merely tries to disavow responsibility. I detest myself for calling these people my friends. I detest myself for having sat in a class taken by many of these professors who do not come down to help people when they are dying. 

I do not know what inhibitions, problems, instructions from authorities they had. 

I have seen the way in which many students and teachers behave when there is a problem amongst students. Few go down and involve themselves and try to sort things out. Oddly enough, it is the same group of students and the same group of professors who actually go out and do something. Others just fucking don’t care. They give a rat’s ass about what happens to the students. And when it comes to labourers, it fucking doesn’t matter. Even death does not stir them one bit. 

These people had also been employed by the university. These people were working in a five star university which is renowned for its engineering department. Nobody told them to wear helmets. Maybe they wouldn’t. But what about taking concrete actions and ensuring that these people take the precautionary measures? And what the hell happens to all the money that UGC gives us? Aritroda and I heard one of the officials saying that the same contractor had done the work for gate number three. The same materials had been used and so on. Well, if that is the case, it is mere luck that gate number three has not collapsed yet, as Sion said.   

Give me answers, somebody. I cannot close my fucking eyes. Each time I do so, I see the face of that man who was trapped inside for two and a half hours.  

We live in different worlds, all of us. Last evening, I was walking down to gate no. 5 with Antoreep and Paromitadi. Milonda was crowded, as usual. There was a gang of students in front of Worldview. Another group with one person singing Beatles and playing the guitar. Another group smoking up. Playing cards. How long will we pretend that nothing has happened? They say it hurts when its home. What about that? Has it stopped hurting even when it happens where you study? In your own university?    

Carrying on as if nothing had happened just a few hours ago. As if gate number four had not fallen down. As if no one had died. I do not know how. None of us knows how. One of my friends said yesterday that all of us have blood on our conscience. Well, do we have a conscience at all?