Shankar Kuppuraj Chettiar is a vegetable vendor who lives on the pavement outside Matunga Road, station in north central Mumbai that has become globally familiar overnight, as one of the sites where the seven deadly bombs went off.
He too thought the bang was an accident, He too rushed to help. He too exhibited rare presence of mind.
"Near the railway ticket counter is a net. We broke that net and brought the injured out through that. People had fallen on either side of the rain. They were in a state of complete shock. We concentrated on the injured first, helping them find them taxis, lorries and buses to get to a hospital," Chettiar says.
"We put the dead bodies in police vans. On Wednesday, railway staff came and removed body parts from near the tracks. I don't know how many injured were there or how many dead bodies I handled. We just helped; we did not count."
He, like many slum-dwellers in the city of dreams, has his own problems, but they were forgotten when tragedy struck. "Some of the people on this pavement got houses and moved away. The government has promised us houses. We do not know when we will get it," he says, a wry smile on his face.
Also read: Column: Mumbai, show me the way
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