Bullets crashed into the derelict alley in the bustling Colaba Market district of south Mumbai where he keeps his shop, as Islamist extremists stormed the nearby Jewish cultural centre run by Gavriel and Rivka Holtzberg.
Even days after the bloody siege ended in tragedy, with the Holtzbergs and four other Jews killed, Mr Nitan is not getting the cut of the cloth quite right - no matter how hard he tries.
'It's my daughter, she just won't stop crying and she is clinging to me nonstop,' the dapper 40-year-old, who asked to use only one name, told AFP from beneath the large orange 'Sheetal Ladies Tailor' sign above his door.
'She is too frightened. She doesn't want to be here anymore,' he added, referring to his nine-year-old daughter, also called Sheetal. 'I am thinking of selling my shop and moving. Colaba seems now to have become the target of terrorists. It is no longer safe.'
The family's nightmare began at about 9.30pm on Wednesday when gunmen launched an assault on Nariman House as a part of a wave of coordinated strikes in a three-day reign of terror at several locations that saw 172 people die.
'We heard what sounded like fireworks,' said Mr Nitan, a tall, softly-spoken man with a neatly-trimmed moustache. 'We rushed out and then we heard a loud explosion, so we quickly ran back into the shop.'
The blast was caused by a grenade lobbed by militants at a nearby fuel station. It killed a passerby but failed in its apparent attempt to turn the petrol stored on the premises into a massive fireball.
When two bullets whizzed above his head and ricocheted menacingly down the now-deserted lane, Mr Nitan gathered up his family and fled. They ran until the sound of gunfire faded.
On Saturday, as the dust settled and Mumbai licked its wounds from the unprecedented, meticulously-planned assault, Mr Nitan brought his family back to Colaba Market from a relative's house in another part of the city.
His shop, protected by steel shutters, was untouched by the carnage. But the attacks also hit business, he said.
'Customers don't want to come here anymore and worst of all I lost a large contract - between 10,000 and 15,000 rupees (S$458) - to make dance dresses,' he said. 'I had bought the material and started on the dresses but the dance was cancelled.' The musicians were let go, the tailor left hanging and his budget blown, he added.
'We are open today,' he said, as curious crowds swarmed down the alley to take mobile-phone photos of the blown windows and blackened walls of the now teetering Nariman House.
'But who knows about tomorrow?' -- AFP