In the chaos that followed the Red Fort blast, tattoos, torn shirts, and jackets were all that was left for families to identify the loved ones they lost in the ghastly tragedy that struck the capital city on Monday. On the corridors of the LNJP Hospital, they clung to hope until it broke, when a familiar pattern of ink, a torn sleeve, or a blue shirt confirmed their worst fears.
Among the victims was 34-year-old Amar Kataria, a pharmaceutical businessman from Chandni Chowk. His body was charred beyond recognition, but his family knew it was him when they saw the tattoos he had inked, each dedicated to his parents and wife.
What was once a gesture of love became the only proof of his identity.
For some others, even clothing became the last link between the living and the dead.
The blast took place after a high-intensity explosion ripped through a slow-moving car at a traffic signal near Gate No. 1 of the Red Fort Metro station on Monday evening, killing at least 13 and injuring many others.
Idris spent the night searching for his 35-year-old nephew, Mohammad Zunman, a battery-rickshaw driver who ferried passengers through the narrow lanes of Chandni Chowk.
Around 9 pm on Monday, Zunman’s GPS signal went silent.
"Police asked us to check the hospital, so we went to the LNJP but he wasn’t there," Idris said.
"They showed us four bodies, which we couldn’t recognise." As the family sat at the Shastri Park police station to file a missing report, a call came, turning their world upside down.
"The caller said a body had been found, come and identify," Idris said.
"Some body parts were missing, like legs. We recognised Zunman by his blue shirt and jacket,” he said.
Zunman was the only earning member of his family. His wife, who is physically challenged, sat beside his body through the night, unable to move or speak, Idris said.
"He had three kids. He was only thirty-five. He used to drive his rickshaw in Chandni Chowk every day. Now his children have no one,” he said.
For the family of 30-year-old Pankaj Sahni, the night began on an anxious note and ended in devastation.
His father, Ram Balak Sahni, first saw reports of the blast on TV around 9.30 pm.
Pankaj, a cab driver, left home around 5.30 pm on Monday to drop off a client in the Old Delhi area.
"I started calling him but there was no response," Ram Balak cited.
"My friends also tried, but his phone was unreachable. We rushed to the blast site, it was complete chaos."
The family tried to register a missing complaint at the Kotwali police station, but were told to return the next morning.
"We kept searching and calling him, but there was still no response," he said.
“Then a call came from police, asking what was my son wearing. I told them — a shirt and blue jeans.”
The family was called to the LNJP Hospital soon after.
“I thought they would take us to the injured ward,” Ram Balak said.
“But instead they took us to the place where bodies were kept. One of my relatives went inside and identified Pankaj,” said Ram Balak, who performed his younger son’s last rites on Tuesday.
Pankaj's car was found nearby, completely mangled.
"He was the only earning member in the family,” his father said.
“Our vehicle is gone, and so is our son.”
Mangled vehicles, torn clothes, and the stench of burnt metal still linger in the narrow lanes near the Red Fort.
For many who spent the night outside hospitals and police stations, the fragile traces of the ordinary — a tattoo, parts of torn clothing — carried unbearable weight. The blast did not just rip through metal and glass; it tore through families, leaving them to piece together their loved ones from what little the fire had spared.
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