On the 7th March 2006 in the city of Varanasi - the day was a normal day, as any other day would have been. It was spring. Cold days had passed and warmer days were yet to come.
I spent my day doing normal routine work. At 5 o’clock in the evening I went to Lanka market. The sun was about to set. The distance between my home and Lanka market is hardly 1 kilometre. In the year 2006 I used to pay a rickshaw puller Rs 10 only for that distance. Sankat Mochan temple is situated on the way to Lanka. Normally rickshaw pullers took Rs. 5 from my home.
In the Lanka market I purchased a lot of green vegetables and few house hold things. I hired a rickshaw for going back to home. A thought came to my mind that according to the Hindu calendar the day was very auspicious. Lots of marriages were performed in the city. I should go to the temple. So I asked the rickshaw puller “Take me to Sankat Mochan”. He turned the rickshaw towards the temple.
I got down from the rickshaw and gave him a Rs 5 coin. I started to enter the temple gate. During those days, there was no security checking. The rickshaw puller called me “Didi. Give me two rupee more.” I was irritated and said “No! For this distant Rs 5 is enough. “Then an argument started between us. I was not going to give him Rs 2 more but he demanded. Few minutes had passed. He continued “You people gave thousands of rupee to the temple but like us poor labourer you cannot spend 2 rupee.” Finally I gave him 2 rupee in a very irritated manner and said “One should not be greedy”.
I turned around and stepped in the main gate of the temple. Suddenly a boom sound hit me. The sound was very strong that hit my heart and mind. “What’s that??” I was spell bound. For about 2 to 3 minute there was absolute silence. Few minutes later some men and women were running outside the temple. They were screaming “Bhagoo……Bhagoo…..” that moment I didn’t realized what had happened to me. I could not move a step. Then an injured girl came out of the temple. Her clothes were soaked in blood. One after the other, people came out in bad shape. There were four men came out holding a rag and shouting “hato…hato” (clear the path). Under the rag the trail of blood dropped on the floor. Suddenly a women shook my shoulder in a histrionically and asked “Mera beta kahan hai” (where is my son) .I regained my consciousness. Then I started running towards my home. Police vehicles were heading towards the temple. The shop - keepers pulled down their shutters.
It took a good amount of time to overcome this experience. Later I thought that if I was not arguing with the rickshaw puller then I would have been on the spot where the bomb blast occurred…
Why did Sankat Mochan save my life?