Road To Justice For Bengaluru XI

HEY were just enough to form a cricket team. The youngest was 13 and not a single one of the Bengaluru XI—those who had their lives snatched from them outside the M Chinnaswamy Stadium on Wednesday—was older than 40.

- ANAND VASU

HEY were just enough to form a cricket team. The youngest was 13 and not a single one of the Bengaluru XI—those who had their lives snatched from them outside the M Chinnaswamy Stadium on Wednesday—was older than 40. They were of the city and beyond, some from other states. Girls, boys, students, dancers, software developers. Some were hardcore fans of the Royal Challengers Bangalore, who had, at long last, won their maiden Indian Premier League title. One did not even care about cricket, but was convinced by friends that a selfie at the venue would be worth the visit.

All of them had one thing in common: they were drawn to a single location to be part of a celebration. It was to be an "I was there" moment.

Not one of them could have imagined that the price to pay would be the ultimate one. When you enlist in the army, go bungee jumping, attempt to climb Mount Everest, or run with the bulls in Pamplona, you know that there is a real chance that death could come close. It's a risk you take knowing what you are getting into.

But when you go to a cricket stadium to feel like you are part of something bigger, to share in the celebration of an achievement that has been nearly two decades in the making, the biggest worry is not the chance you have of returning alive.