Opening Doorz
“Celebrating Life”
By Martin D’Souza | Opening Doorz Editorial | March 16, 2025 When Bombay Burned: A City Shaken, A Nation Scarred December 6, 1992—the day the Babri Masjid was demolished—marked a […]
By Martin D’Souza | Opening Doorz Editorial | March 16, 2025
December 6, 1992—the day the Babri Masjid was demolished—marked a turning point in India’s social, cultural, and political fabric. Within a few days, riots had erupted across the country. In Bombay (now Mumbai), the violence that engulfed the streets continued well into 1993.
The poor and the innocent bore the brunt of the fury. Lives were lost, homes were reduced to ashes, shops looted, and entire localities turned into battle zones. Scenes once confined to the reels of cinema played out in reality—citizens patrolled the streets with tube lights, bulbs, and soda bottles, wielding makeshift weapons in the name of fear and survival. Thousands, desperate to escape, crowded railway stations, fleeing a city they once called home.
Before Bombay could even process the devastation of the riots, another nightmare struck—a series of coordinated bomb blasts tore through the heart of the city. The scars of that day remain, etched not just in history but in the psyche of those who lived through it. Bombay was never the same again.
Through these terrifying times, journalists and photojournalists risked their lives to document the truth, ensuring the world did not look away.
On Saturday, March 15, 2025, The Mumbai Press Club inaugurated Forty-Four Thousand Words, an exhibition featuring 44 photographs from the riots and blasts, captured by some of Mumbai’s finest photojournalists. Justice B N Srikrishna, who led the commission investigating these events, inaugurated the exhibition.
This collection reminds us of the devastation caused when politics and religion collide. At a time when our country is once again at a crossroads, these images serve as undeniable evidence of the role journalists play in informing and empowering society. We now have the responsibility to learn from history and shape a better future.
The exhibition is accessible to the public until April 30 at The Mumbai Press Club.
Don’t miss this powerful and poignant tribute.
Featuring the works of: Ashesh Shah, Datta Khedekar, Gajanan Dudhulkar, Jayprakash Kelkar, Mukesh Parpiani, Neeraj Priyadarshi, Prakash Parsekar, Raju Kakade, Santosh Nimbalkar, Shailendra Yashwant, Sherwin Crasto, Shrinivas Akella, and Sudharak Olwe.
“Long ago—I can’t recall exactly when—there was an exhibition on the Holocaust in Los Angeles. I don’t remember who inaugurated it, but I do remember someone from the audience asking a pointed question to the person who inaugurated it: ‘Why do you perpetuate these painful memories for younger generations?’
The response was simple: ‘You cannot wipe out history.’
I wish people would remember that history cannot be erased. More importantly, it serves as a reminder of what we must never become.
That exhibition remains permanently in Los Angeles, USA—not even in Germany.”
“Now, I stand before another exhibition, the one you have asked me to inaugurate today. It has been aptly described as ‘Forty-Four Thousand Words’—because it features 44 photographs, each carrying a powerful, poignant message. They say a picture is worth a thousand words; hence, the title.
Let me share two incidents that shaped my journey with the Commission.”
“The first: How did I come to be appointed as the presiding judge of the Commission?
I am, and I say this openly, a deeply religious man. A dyed-in-the-wool Hindu. I love my faith, and precisely because of that, I respect every other faith—Christian, Muslim, Sikh, or any other.
When the Government requested the Chief Justice to appoint a sitting judge for the Commission, she went through the list. There were about 20 or 30 names, and mine was near the bottom. Judge after judge declined the assignment—“No, not me,” they said.
Finally, my turn came. She called me and said, ‘Srikrishna, you have to do this’.”
“I had barely been in office for a year and a half, and I had no experience in such matters. I was a lawyer, focused solely on legal work.
‘I don’t know what this entails,’ I admitted, ‘but I am willing to take on the challenge. However, I have one reservation.’
‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘I am a practising Hindu’, I said. ‘I make no secret of it. I wear my faith—not on my sleeve, but on my forehead. Every day, you will see me in court with a big tikka‘.
‘Do you think people will see me as impartial?’
She looked at me for about 50 seconds and then asked, ‘When you sit in court, wearing your robes, do you think of yourself as a Hindu, Muslim, Parsi? What do you consider yourself?’
‘I am a judge’, I replied. ‘I must uphold justice, guided by the oath I have taken on the Constitution’.
‘That’, she said, ‘is exactly what you are required to do’.”
“I accepted the task. And by the grace of God—and with the support of the press—I believe I carried it out to the best of my ability. I must commend the media, both print, and photographers, for their relentless efforts over those four-and-a-half years.
Had I possessed these photographs then, I wouldn’t have needed to write 250 pages of the report. I could have summarized it in 20. Each photograph truly speaks a thousand words.”
“The second incident is more personal: There was a young man in my neighbourhood—a simple soul, not highly intelligent, hard of hearing, and uneducated. He went from house to house, doing odd jobs with honesty and dedication. Every morning, he would come and wash my car.
Then, the riots began.
One day, he came to me, fear in his eyes. ‘Saheb‘, he said, ‘I have a sister. She is beautiful. Eighteen years old. I fear for her life. More than that, I fear for her honour. Can you help?’
I told him frankly, ‘There is little I can do’. But then I thought for a moment. ‘Listen, I have a garage where I park my car. I will move the car out. Your sister can stay there until the riots subside’.
He was still hesitant, worried. ‘Saheb, will the garage be safe?’
I assured him, ‘It is the safest place in this city right now. I have 40 armed policemen guarding my building. I don’t think any rioter will dare enter’. Ironically, despite those 40 policemen, someone still managed to break into my house and steal my VCR.
That’s life. You take it as it comes.
But at least the girl was safe. That’s what mattered.”
“Now finally, I don’t know how many of you have had the patience to read through the report that was submitted in 1998. In it, I quoted a verse from Shankaracharya, my guru. He conveys a profound truth in a beautifully simple way: He says, look—the good lord, whom he calls Vishnu, but whom you may refer to by any name, even Mr. X, resides in you and me. There is no fundamental difference between us except for this outward manifestation. Yet, for no real reason, you are angry with me, you want to fight me, you want to hate me.
“He says you are jealous of me, intolerant, and needlessly in conflict with me. Why not try to see yourself in everyone around you and move away from this divisive way of thinking? This perspective is the essence of the philosophy advocated by our great spiritual leaders.
Unfortunately, we are using religion to do exactly what they did not want us to do. Religion should unite people. Because, ultimately, what is religion? It is an individual’s attempt to connect with God. That is what I am doing, that is what you are doing—ultimately, we are all seeking that connection with the divine. So why on earth are we fighting?”
“Why should there be any differentiation? And worse, why should there be violence and war based on such differences? These conflicts arise solely from ‘us’ versus ‘them.’ That is precisely what must be eliminated. I am glad these images will serve as a lesson for the younger generation, showing them the devastating consequences of such divisions.
This exhibition should stand as a reminder not to repeat the mistakes of the past. Hopefully, future generations will learn from it and grow to be more understanding.”
“Gandhiji didn’t like the word ‘tolerant.’ He believed it implied an undue seriousness. Instead, he urged people to be more accommodating.
We must learn to be more equanimous and carry forward the teachings of Buddha, Gandhiji, and other great thinkers—everyone, except, perhaps, what the politicians have taught us!”
Image Credit: Aditi Haralkar
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