New Delhi, November 10: No one expected it. One loud blast, then smoke, fire, shouting, everything at once. It happened right outside the Red Fort Metro Station, around seven in the evening. A car stopped at the signal and just blew apart.
People didn’t even look at first. There’s always noise in Old Delhi horns, fireworks, engines, but this was different. A shock that punched the air out of the street. You could feel it in your chest.
The car, an old Maruti Eeco, caught fire instantly. Flames jumped to the next lane. A man on a scooter fell off and ran. Somebody screamed about another bomb. Traffic jammed. Nobody knew where to go.

Fire trucks came in minutes. Seven of them, according to an officer there, though in that confusion it felt like more. The smell of diesel, burning plastic, and metal popping in the heat. They dragged people out. Not everyone made it.
At LNJP Hospital, doctors said eight dead. Could rise. Over twenty injured, some critical. Burn injuries, head wounds, shrapnel. One nurse said a man’s clothes had melted into his skin. People came in crying, covered in soot, still not sure what had happened to them.
The Scene After
By eight, the whole area was locked down. Police with rifles, yellow tape, and cameras flashing. Forensic teams are setting up under floodlights. Bits of the car were scattered across thirty metres. You could still see sparks coming from the metal.

The Home Minister, Amit Shah, was briefed. Orders went out across Delhi, and to Uttar Pradesh and Maharashtra raise the alert, check vehicles, and secure crowded places.
The Red Fort, just behind the site, stood quiet. Its walls catch the orange glow of the fires. Every Independence Day, the Prime Minister speaks from there. Tonight, that same stretch was blackened, soaked with water, police boots crunching glass.
Witnesses Trying To Make Sense
Accounts don’t match. They never do. One man said he saw a flash under the car, like something metallic. Another said he heard a whine before the bang. Some thought it was gas leaking. Others are convinced it was a bomb.

A rickshaw puller said he was three cars behind. “I saw fire rise taller than the pole. I left my rickshaw there. I just ran.” He looked dazed, hands black with soot.
People filmed it. They always do now. Videos already online show the car on fire, and others screaming. Someone is praying. Someone else is yelling at the police.
Investigation
The Delhi Police Special Cell is running the case. They’ve taken debris samples, sent them to labs. Checking for explosive chemicals, anything synthetic. CCTV footage from shops and the metro is being collected. No one’s saying what they’ve found yet.
There’s talk, quiet, not official, that explosives were seized earlier in another state today. Could be nothing. Could be something. Everyone’s cautious. The police don’t want another false lead.
The Mood In The City
Old Delhi doesn’t sleep early, but tonight it did. Lanes empty, shops shut. Just police lights blinking red and blue on the wet road. The air was thick with smoke and tension.
People remember. The Red Fort attack in 2000, the market blasts in 2008, those memories come back fast. Every time something like this happens, Delhi feels smaller, more fragile.
At the barricade, an old man who sells tea said quietly, “It’s always the same. We hear the blast, we run, we come back, and nothing changes.”
It’s almost midnight now. The site still smells of burnt oil. A few policemen are sitting on the pavement, silent, watching the lights fade from the fort’s walls. Nobody’s talking about what it was. Nobody really wants to.
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