Every day throughout my ordeal, Rebbie-ji found a few minutes in his busy schedule to call and check on me. How ya doin’, Meena’le? His intimately familiar voice wrapped me in the warmth of the Brooklyn of our innocence, it took everything in my power to keep myself from opening my mouth and howling. Not a single call passed without him urging me to come to his ashram in Mother Teresa’s old hospice in Calcutta, near the big Kali temple, his House of Holy Healing, HHH, like Ha Ha Ha. He erupted in laughter. It would do you so much good, he declared. Come and stay for as long as you like, Meena’le. You are so, so welcome, not only are my doors open to you, but also my heart. I know you will come soon. Maybe next week you will come, maybe tomorrow you will come, any minute now I will see you, you are on your way, I feel you are near, ah, here you are.

The alert went off. A developing story was unfolding very close by in the packed women’s compartment of a commuter train as it was coming into the Churchgate station during the evening rush hour. Details were still sketchy, but so far what was known was that two burqa-clad passengers had suddenly shouted, Allahu Akbar in the mosh pit of the ladies’ car and thrust out their hands from under their black robes waving butcher knives. They proceeded to slash indiscriminately in every direction, according to eyewitness accounts, inflicting numerous injuries and drawing streams of blood until the heroic ladies in that car banded together and took matters into their own hands. With the full united force of their bodies, the ladies pushed the alleged perpetrators off the train through the open door of the compartment down onto the tracks. According to early unconfirmed reports, the two suspects were neutralized either from the fall itself, or crushed under the wheels of the train, which was still moving, or beaten to death by enraged citizens who happened to be in the vicinity.