The night was getting darker by every second and the emotions, grimmer.
A group of terrorists had entered into a school building and taken hostage more than 1500 people, mostly students. The demands were unclear and despite several attempts for negotiations, they didn’t budge.
To stop locals and Media from entering the conflict zone or creating unnecessary nuisance, the police had already blockaded the entire street. The loud sirens and hooters had turned the street into a battle ground. The street which proudly boasted of many elite schools and urbanised infrastructure was incensed with chaos. Red beacons. Blue beacons. Police-men and Army personnel at every thinkable escape route.
The menacing curiosity of the addled crowd made the situation more difficult to manage. The crowd however was unaware that their curiosity could get them killed. A hoard of people – with their eyes glued on the school and their feet glued to the ground – witnessed this unusual hostage where there were no demands.
The great institution of learning, The Daulton Academy, had come down on its knees, begging for its life and the lives of 1500 of its family members. With every passing second, the mercury of the risk to the lives of those innocent children was rising and there wasn’t anything that police could do. After a restless hour, the police experiences an activity at the school main gate. The army personnel took their positions with all guns pointing to the gate. There is silence. The gate moves and a young boy in his blue school uniform comes out crying, with a diary in his hand.
Within a second, an army jawan ushers him to a nearby jeep while others still focussing on the main gate. The jawan tries endlessly to console the boy but all in vain. The boy, sobbing, handover the diary and the army man opens it cautiously, it read: WE HAVE NO DEMANDS. All other pages were torn apart.