Turmoil ensues after blasts
Families are having difficulty locating their missing loved ones.
BOMBAY, India (AP) -- The soggy, crumpled photograph shows a young man grinning at the camera.
An inconsolable Vasanti Chavan is afraid it is the last happy photograph she will ever have of her 24-year-old son, Chetan.
It's a gray Wednesday afternoon, the day after eight explosions hit Bombay's commuter rail network during the evening rush hour, killing 200 and wounding 714, and the Chavan family is among the dozens still scouring the city's hospitals and morgues for missing relatives.
"It doesn't seem like he is all right. He would have called, he would have somehow got a message across," said Chetan's older brother, Gautam.
They fear Chetan, a salesman at a department store in central Bombay, was on one of the packed train cars ripped apart by the bombs.
"I spoke to him before he left work. He leaves much later on other days, but we had a family wedding to attend," said Gautam.
His mother, Vasanti, determinedly clutches the photograph and sets off in search of doctors she hopes will help find her son.
Seconds after she is out of sight, Gautam leans against a rain-streaked hospital wall and weeps.
"She mustn't see me like this. She isn't talking much but she insists we will find him somewhere," he said.
Mother and son have searched six hospitals and a morgue for Chetan.
Other missing
They are not alone.
Authorities say they do not know how many missing people there are. But Indian television stations are broadcasting pictures of dozens of missing in the hopes of helping relatives locate them.
Seventeen bodies remain unclaimed in city hospitals, said K. Vatsa, a senior state welfare official. "We don't have a category of missing people. We just know how many of the dead have not been identified," he said.
Throughout Bombay, the Chavan family story is repeated over and over.
At a nearby hospital, Dishan Ahir looks for a colleague.
"I've been searching for hours. I don't know where else to go," he sighed.
His colleague's family lives in the southern city of Bangalore. "His wife called me up and said she hadn't heard from him and we've been searching ever since."
"What do I tell her when she calls again?" he asked.
There are also victims without families.
At a suburban hospital, a small boy lies unconscious, an oxygen mask strapped to his face. No one knows who he is.
Outside a morgue in northern Bombay, Hetal Gandhi stands with a picture of her father, who works in a downtown bank. "He comes home on time every day. He is never ever late," she said, fighting back tears. "So when he didn't come home last night, we panicked."
She said repeated calls to his mobile phone went unanswered. "We thought if he was on the train and was injured someone would pick up the phone for him. But all we get is the message saying 'unreachable.'"
Gandhi, a college student, said her family had spread out to various city hospitals.
Meanwhile, the missing salesman's brother, Gautam Chavan, is fearing the worst.
Then a relative appears, holding firmly onto Gautam's mother.
Vasanti Chavan's face is emotionless apart from her eyes, which look haunted.
The relative has received a phone call that Chetan's body has been found in a hospital morgue.
Vasanti breaks down, hugging her older son, never once letting go of the photograph.
Copyright 2006 Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
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