I return to my room as my mother-in-law leaves for her office in the building adjacent to our home. I am about to start my bath when I hear a series of explosions, as of firecrackers, but different. I freeze. Someone comes pounding frantically on my bathroom door. It is Ongmu, the children’s nanny, crying hysterically. I fling open the door, my heart thumping. She is gesticulating wildly, speechlessly, towards the garden.

I run along the path leading to Akbar Road. I see the white Ambassador car slowly moving towards the same path. I hesitate. I stop, heart in my mouth. Dread, panic, fear. I feel suffocated. I can’t breathe. I am about to collapse. No, no, I can’t. I have to walk to the car. I see her being carried into it. I understand; I scream.

I’m in the car now, crouching on the floor, facing her … Blood – blood on her sari, blood on her chest. Her large eyes are wide open; her face wears a surprised expression. She doesn’t move.…