Mumbai: “Didn’t he ask for us before passing away?’’ This question has been haunting Malad resident Subhashree Karambelkar since 7\11 when her husband Parag died due to injuries sustained in a the blast on a train near Mahim.
   Parag was alive for two hours at Sion Hospital, but his wife and daughter didn’t know his whereabouts and couldn’t reach him. Shubhashree knows she could have done little as there was unprecedented congestion on the phone network, but five months after the tragedy she still begins her days and nights with the pain of an unanswered question. “I hope he knew we were thinking of him,’’ she says.
   At a public meeting organised by the ‘Raahat Ek Ehsaas’ initiative of KEM Hospital, Bombay Psychiatry Association and the Rotary and Rotaract Clubs on Sunday morning, it was evident that five months after the blasts shook the city, the wounds haven’t healed. Though everyone has returned to the daily grind of life—be it the victims, who are now handicapped, families that have lost dear ones or fellow commuters who survived—there are memories that shatter their fragile peace.
   John Cardozo, a Mira Road resident, breaks out into palpitations every time he travels by train. “I am fine once I get off the train at Mumbai Central station. But the thought of getting into a train or travelling makes me shudder,’’ he told the Sunday gathering. And, Cardozo wasn’t even hurt in the blasts although he was in one of the trains.
   Cardozo has been sharing his misery in a therapeutic bid to overcome his anxiety. The talk-it-out gambit is what Raahat has adopted. What began with a helpline a few weeks after the blast, is now a forum for those seeking empathy. BPS secretary Dr Shlipa Adarkar said the Raahat effort needs to continue as there are still some victims who have bottled up their feelings. The attendance at Sunday’s meeting itself may be an indication of the problem. While 55 affected people promised to turn up, only a handful did.
   Dr Janhavi Kedare of KEM Hospital’s psychiatry department, who was a member of a team that counselled families of 154 people killed in the blasts, sees a pattern in the process.
   “People from nuclear families were having a difficult time coping with the tragedy while those from joint families were faring better,’’ she said.
   She added: “We found many still wondering about leaving Mumbai, but the one thing that struck us was that the victims had left behind young widows with small children.’’ Many of the widows were in the 25 to 35 age group.
   KEM Hospital’s head of psychiatry Dr Shubhangi Parkar recalled how a young widow in Vasai had not told her children about their father’s death. “Being a mother, she had to hide her pain.’’
   The idea would be to take a leaf out of Dhwani Buddhadev’s experiences. She lost her 26-year-old husband Himanshu in the blast, just four days before their first wedding anniversary. “But my in-laws and friends have been a pillar of strength. There is still a lot of crying at home, but we talk a lot—half the time about Himanshu—which helps a lot,’’ said Dhwani.
   Her in-laws insisted that Dhwani take up a job. “I joined a school in Malad on August 1. And I am never told to wear light-coloured clothes that conservative Gujarati families expect widows to do.’’
   Dhwani believes her extrovert nature helped her get along. “But there are many like my younger brother-inlaw who haven’t shed a tear, and I am sure they need to do so. We have to devise a way to help such persons,’’ she concludes.
   Sunday’s meeting also had an unusual guest—Kutty, a dog whose life’s mission is to provide a healing touch to those who need some canine affection. “Animals don’t question you, they don’t discriminate on the basis of looks or intellect, they give undiluted attention, which works as a soothing factor,’’ said Kutty’s trainer, psychologist Minal Lonkar, who belongs to a growing tribe of animal therapists in the city. The idea is to teach patients— be those affected by autism or Alzheimer’s— to connect with the real world, she added.

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