MALEGAON: At Bhikku Chowk, time remains frozen. The wall clock at Nissar Dairy, stopped forever at 9:45 p.m., still hangs above the counter — the exact moment a bomb ripped through the bustling center of this textile town on September 29, 2008. The blast killed six people and injured nearly 100 others, leaving behind scars that have never truly healed.
Seventeen years later, reminders of that horrifying night still linger — splinter marks on shutters, dents in metal, and memories etched into the minds of those who survived. The chowk, known for its tea stalls, snack shops, and paan vendors, continues to draw daily crowds, but the trauma remains just below the surface.
‘It Was Just Minutes After Namaz’
Mohammad Sayyed, who runs a cycle repair shop at the chowk, narrowly escaped death that night. The motorcycle used to plant the bomb, as later claimed by the prosecution, was parked right outside his shop. “I was offering namaz at a nearby masjid during Ramzan. The blast occurred just minutes before people exited,” he recalled.
Shaikh Hamid Shaikh Chand (63), a paan seller at the same spot, said, “I survived, but the sound of the explosion rang in my ears for a week. A boy named Jamil, who worked with me, was seriously injured.”
Despite the years that have passed, the physical setting of Bhikku Chowk has changed very little. One notable exception is the stretch from Bhikku Chowk to Anjuman Chowk, now renamed Shaheed Hemant Karkare Road, in honor of the late IPS officer Hemant Karkare, who led the Anti-Terrorism Squad (ATS) during the blast investigation.
Public Grief and Anger Over the Verdict
On Thursday, residents once again gathered at the chowk to mark the anniversary — not just in remembrance, but in disappointment. Many expressed anger over the outcome of the trial, where several accused, including former BJP MP Pragya Singh Thakur, were acquitted.
“So much evidence was collected by Hemant Karkare. But in the end, his efforts have gone in vain,” said Sikandar Ali, a powerloom worker. “Despite everything, no one has been punished. This is not justice.”
A police outpost (chowkey) still stands just a few metres from the blast site. Residents acknowledge that security has improved, but distrust in the system remains high — particularly among the Muslim community, who bore the brunt of the tragedy.
Maulana Abdul Qayyum, district president of Jamiat-e-Ulma, voiced the community’s frustration: “If the government believes the accused were innocent, why hasn’t it found the real culprits? We trust the judiciary, and we will go to the higher courts. Justice must be done — for the dead, the injured, and their families.”
Celebrations and Division
Even as Malegaon mourned, some parts of the communally sensitive town witnessed celebrations following the court’s decision. Members of a Hindu organisation gathered near the Mahatma Gandhi statue, shouting slogans in praise of Pragya Singh Thakur, one of the original accused.
This stark contrast in reactions underscores the deep divisions that persist in Malegaon, a town bisected by the Mausam river and marked by years of communal tension.
For many residents, especially those at Bhikku Chowk, time may have moved on — but justice, they say, has not.
