On Tuesday and there were no queues outside Siddhivinayak Temple. Mumbai's favourite deity was forgotten as demons wrecked havoc on the city streets - smashing car windscreens and torching rickshaws. People don't want to venture out of their homes. Those who do were not sure if they will be able to come home. Schools, shops and establishments were all closed. Sadly, media offices weren't. Bad news is always good for newspaper sales. I had to go to office. Through the day, I sifted to photographs of MNS activists battering taxis, torching autos, pelting stones in the city. As Mumbai came to a standstill, the wires kept buzzing with figures. My mind became numb as I edited story after story on Raj and his so-called supporters. Overdose happened. I even dreamt of an MNS guy hurling a burning tyre at me that night. I wasn't anywhere close to the place of the riots. But strangely they affected me, probably as much as it did those who were caught amidst them. This is my city. I could have done something - probably. But all I could muster after viewing images of destruction was, "Mumbai's gone to the dogs."