When the peaceful evening bustle around Delhi’s iconic Red Fort turned into chaos on Monday, few could comprehend the horror that was unfolding. The explosion of a Hyundai i20 car near Gate No. 1 of the Red Fort Metro station ripped through the heart of one of the city’s busiest areas, killing at least 12 people and injuring over 20 others. As the city reels from the tragedy, survivors and first responders have begun recounting the moments of sheer terror and heartbreak that followed.
Among those who can’t escape the haunting memories is Rajeev Kumar, a local cosmetics shop owner whose shop stands just a few meters from where the blast occurred. “I haven’t slept a wink since that evening,” he says, his voice trembling. “Every time I close my eyes, I see people lying on the road, bleeding. Those images won’t leave my mind.”
Rajeev was among the first to rush toward the site seconds after the explosion. “At first, I thought it was a cylinder blast,” he recalls. “But then I saw the mangled car, people screaming, blood everywhere. A man was lying in front of my shop, writhing in pain. I just ran to him and tried to stop the bleeding.” He managed to get the man into an ambulance, but the question of whether the victim survived still torments him. “I went to LNJP Hospital two days later just to check if he made it. I had to know. But no one could tell me.”
The explosion occurred around 6:50 p.m., during rush hour, when the streets near Red Fort are usually packed with tourists, vendors, and evening commuters. The sound was heard across several neighborhoods, sending waves of panic through Old Delhi. Within moments, confusion gave way to cries for help as smoke engulfed the area.
Amid the chaos, it was the locals and emergency responders who became the first line of aid. Ambulances began arriving within minutes, but before they did, people from nearby shops and homes had already begun pulling victims away from the burning vehicle.
One of the first ambulance drivers at the scene was Fizaan, who has worked with Delhi’s emergency medical service for years. Even he admits he had never seen anything like it. “I carried body parts in my hands. They were shaking,” he says quietly, standing outside LNJP Hospital, his uniform still stained. “The sound of that blast… it was deafening. At first, we thought maybe a tyre had burst. But when our beat officer radioed in saying it was an explosion, we rushed to Red Fort immediately.”
Fizaan’s partner, Imran, who was with him in the same ambulance, describes a scene straight out of a nightmare. “There was fire everywhere — metal, glass, and shoes scattered on the road,” he says. “People were screaming for help. Some were too stunned to move. Others were trying to find their family members. We didn’t think; we just started lifting bodies.”
The two men spent hours ferrying the injured to hospitals across Delhi. “We didn’t stop,” Imran recalls. “Every few minutes, another call came in. We just kept going. Some people were alive but critical. Others… we knew they were gone the moment we touched them.”
The smell of burnt metal and fuel still lingers in the air near Red Fort. Shop shutters remain half-closed, and the footfall of tourists — normally heavy in the evenings — has thinned to almost none. Locals describe the moment as one of collective trauma for the entire neighborhood.
According to investigators, the blast was caused by a high-intensity explosive device placed inside the car, parked near the traffic signal at the intersection leading to the Red Fort Metro station. The explosion tore through nearby vehicles and shattered windows in surrounding buildings. The National Investigation Agency (NIA) and Delhi Police’s Special Cellare probing the incident, which the government has officially labeled a “heinous terror attack.”
Early findings have revealed links to a Faridabad-based extremist module allegedly connected to Jaish-e-Mohammad (JeM) and individuals with ties to Al Falah University in Haryana. Investigators are now examining whether the car was remotely detonated or triggered by a timer device. Forensic teams have recovered fragments of metal, wiring, and traces of a chemical compound consistent with military-grade explosives.
While security forces piece together the mechanics of the attack, ordinary citizens like Rajeev, Fizaan, and Imran are struggling with the emotional aftermath. “I can’t get the screams out of my head,” Rajeev says, his eyes welling up. “When something like this happens right in front of you, it doesn’t leave you. The faces stay with you.”
In the narrow lanes leading to Red Fort, the mood remains tense. Police barricades dot the area, and forensic experts continue to sweep the site for evidence. Officers have conducted dozens of detentions in nearby neighborhoods, and security has been intensified across key heritage and tourist zones in Delhi, including India Gate, Jama Masjid, and Connaught Place.
Home ministry officials have emphasized that the attack represents a “planned and coordinated act of terror”, targeting not just civilians but also a site symbolic of India’s sovereignty. “The Red Fort is not merely a monument,” one senior officer noted. “It’s a national emblem. Targeting it is an attempt to send a message — and we will ensure those behind it are brought to justice swiftly.”
But beyond the investigations and security briefings, the human cost of the blast is evident in the eyes of those who witnessed it. Families of the victims have gathered at hospitals and morgues, some waiting for hours for confirmation, others in disbelief. “He had gone to take pictures near the fort,” sobbed a mother outside LNJP Hospital. “He was just 23.”
For the residents of Old Delhi, the tragedy feels personal. “We’ve seen protests, chaos, even riots,” says Abdul Rahman, who runs a food stall near Chandni Chowk. “But nothing like this. That explosion shook all of us — not just the ground, but our hearts.”
Two days after the explosion, the smell of gunpowder still hangs in the air near the blast site. Police have cordoned off the stretch of road where the car once stood. Scorch marks and shards of glass remain — stark reminders of the violence that shattered an ordinary evening.
Rajeev Kumar says he hasn’t opened his shop since the blast. “I just can’t,” he admits. “Every time I look at that spot, I remember the man I carried into the ambulance. I keep wondering — did he make it?”
As Delhi mourns, the capital’s resilience is once again being tested. For now, the city stands united in grief and anger — demanding justice, security, and the hope that such horror will never return to its streets again.


Leave a Reply