THE JUDGEMENT

MUMBAI: As the judge began reading his verdict on Ajmal Amir Kasab in the silence of the courtroom, outside Arthur Road prison which housed the special court, complete chaos ruled. With more cameras and curious onlookers than cops, police had a trying time keeping the crowds in check.

Most onlookers were local boys aged between 10 to 25. "I haven't been following Kasab's trial religiously. I only came here because I saw a crowd gathered here," said Rahul (15).

For shopkeepers in the area, it was bumper business, especially the small general stores, restaurants and panwallahs. "The crowd has been gathering here daily from early morning for the last three days. My business has definitely gained. I don't want to think about what will happen when the trial is over," said a panwallah at the corner of the footpath.

Not everyone was delighted to have such an infamous neighbour, though. An old lady, on her way to buy grocery, started talking about her grievances as soon as she saw the media. "We have been troubled immensely by the imprisonment of Kasab here. For his security, we are not allowed to pass directly from this lane. Either we need an identity card to show every time we want to pass or take a longer route," she lamented. Others, like Savitribai, were focused on the man of the moment. "A death sentence is not enough. He should be left in care of the public instead," she said firmly.

The lull before the storm was palpably tense, as the wait seemed to stretch into eternity broken by false alarms of 'verdict aala' (the verdict is out). As the clocks came closer to 2 pm, the crowd placed themselves against the banisters and waited with baited breath to hear what they wanted to all along, while police stepped up their vigilance.

When the first person came running out of the court, the silence was deafening. "Life! Life!" he screamed to a shocked crowd. "Oh sorry, I meant death," he said sheepishly, but his mistake was instantly pardoned by the deafening roar that greeted him.

"It does not come as a surprise. We were expecting it," said advocate Khalid Azmi.

"This should have happened long back. At least now we will see justice done to the man who killed so many innocents," said Shivendra, a local.

With TV reporters busy screaming into their microphones, some had other thoughts on their minds. "I will now get to go home. The earlier this thing ends, the better for us," said a policeman who had been on duty outside Arthur Road jail since the wee hours of morning.

The celebrations were not limited to outside the courts alone. "If they had not given him a death sentence but a life term, people from all over India would have protested against the verdict," said Siddhi Karnik (20), a college student and a regular commuter at CST, one of the sites of Kasab's carnage.

With the television set on full volume in the background, the staff at Cama and Albless Hospital were busy with their work. "The marks of that night still haunt our memories. We saw him for months, first as the young man who was opening fire at innocents, then his confession, then this. I think we are all just finally glad that this ordeal has finally come to an end and has come to the end that it deserved," said a nurse, who refused to be quoted.

"It is a fair decision and makes me feel proud of our judiciary. Yet, I feel so angry on hearing this man's name that I think he should have been shot dead there and then, like the rest of his co-conspirators," said octroi worker Manoj Takhtani (26). Yet, many also are unhappy about the fact that the tax-payers money was wasted on a terrorist. "Kasab has enjoyed his paid vacation in India long enough," said Ritika Sujan (20) a college student.

But many were worried about the verdict being actually carried out. "There are many mercy petitions lying with the President of India at present. I just hope Kasab's plea also doesn't lie there for the coming decade. Nobody wants him to be left alive anymore," said 30-year-old Kshitij Pandey, a software engineer.

"The government should waste no time now. Every time we hear about Kasab, the nightmare returns. All we ask for is an end to this misery which has been following us for the longest time," said Janak Shah (68), a retired banker.