The train tracks were my first stop in Mumbai after arriving on a flight from my home-base, New Delhi. I wanted to see what the damaged train cars looked like, even though the bombs had been detonated hours before.
I climbed onto a concrete wall and balanced as I walked closer to where the bombs went off. A train that was a target of the attack was left sitting on the railway. As I got closer, climbing over the trash and mud and rats, I could see the ripped-apart first-class cabin of the train. The metal was mangled and bent back. In fact, you could see right through the car.
On the tracks and gravel below, there were pieces of torn clothing, but it was hard to tell what may have been left after the blast and chaos that followed and what was simply trash left on the railway. There are cars that are separated as "men only" and "women only." It was explained to me that this is done because the cars get so crowded that there are concerns about molestation of women riding the train.
I spent the entire night doing live shots near one of the government-run hospitals where many of the victims of the train attack were taken. In between interviews, I was able to do some reporting on what was happening in the hospital. One of the things that struck me was how many people from the surrounding community were out distributing tea, water, fruit and bread to the volunteers and family members stuck late into the evening (or all night long) waiting for word on loved ones.
These attacks struck at rush hour in the evening, and as many people stayed up through the night (as the monsoon rains intermittently fell) they began to question what exactly would happen "the next day." Early on, I was greeted by some heart-wrenching scenes as family members came from the hospital with bad news. I met one older man who was in tears, so distraught he couldn't even speak. Family members had to tell me what had happened. He had spent the entire evening looking for his 28-year-old son, only to identify him later in the morgue.
The personal stories of those affected in these attacks are the hardest to hear. It makes you wonder how anyone could inflict harm on civilians. At a medical ward set up in one hospital for victims of the attack, many people looked dazed and some sat bandaged. The toughest scene was in the intensive care unit, where a victim of the attack was on a ventilator, his body shaking involuntarily as doctors tried to nurse him back to life.
I also saw scenes of progress and determination. At one train station not far from one of the blasts, we saw commuters pushing to get on trains, determined not to let these terrorist attacks change their plans.