It was never going to be an
ordinary day! How could it? When you are returning home after a decade? How
could it be nothing, but, just a banal day in your mundane life? When you have
a home away from home, when you have decided that you want to spend your adult
life, away from your childhood memories, how could returning home not open the
flood gates of emotions? It was one of those days for Arkansh. He had spent
most of his adult life away from his country and was living the American Dream.
As happens with most people, he had stepped into the land of opportunities to
add to his existing educational qualifications. With a higher degree, it was
natural that he wanted to get work experience for at least 2 years, then 5 years,
and of course after that point, there was no turning back.
It is not that the urge to return
to his country was absent, it was just that there were so many other conflicting
emotions, that were present. Although, initially he had struggled to settle
down in this great, bustling city called New York, this is where he was at
peace with himself. This city absorbed his sorrow and pain. The lights lent
their brightness to him. The lane-weaving taxis reminded him of home, and he
would get excited to experience that morsel of semblance between the life he
had left behind and the life waiting for him ahead. Like any other Indian, Arkansh loved crowds
and was happiest when dodging big totes, umbrellas, and office satchels, on his
way to work. The noise around him silenced the voices inside him; he somehow
derived comfort from this big city and its busy people.
After all, it was in this city that
he had found his wife, it was here that he was witness to the birth of their
two wonderful children. And this is where, he had walked into the USCIS office
for the naturalization process. He had come to love this city so much, he had
forgotten for a while what pain, what loneliness felt. He was never alone on
the Brooklyn Bridge, he was never alone at Wall Street, and he definitely was
never alone at Times Square. That is the surprising thing about New York. No
matter your ethnicity, your job, your gender, your beliefs; you are never
alone. The true New Yorkers at the end of the day, still love the same things
in this city, the 24 hour food joints, the fact that night never dawns, the
picturesque outline in the sky, the wind drafts in downtown, the ever-existent
sirens of NYPD, the celebrities you could run into and just the liveliness of
this city.
Arkansh had decided this is the
city, he wanted to spend the rest of his life in. Life was easier here, he did
not have to deal with the demons of his past. He was not reminded of them every
minute of every waking hour. It had taken him a long time to rise out of the
ashes, and he did not want to fall into darkness once again. His kids’ smiling
faces, his wife’s welcoming eyes, his co-workers’ friendly banter led him to
believe this is where home was and this is where more happiness was in store
for him.
All these beliefs were shaken on
that fateful day, when all he could hear were screams around him, and the
sensation of ground slipping beneath his feet. It was that day he actually saw
people stop working, and look up from their computers to find out what was
happening. It felt like an earthquake, things were falling off their desks, and
all signs of personal space were wiped into oblivion. Arkansh was still
confused and all his colleagues gathered near the window to see what was
happening. The other buildings looked fine, that doesn’t happen in an
earthquake! A natural calamity doesn’t discriminate!
It was in that moment, that they
saw smoke in the sky, unlike any before. It was black and dense and carried a
sense of loom. Even as they wondered what was going on, a dozen phones started
ringing almost together. The chances of this happening were very rare, and in
that instant, all of them knew there was something seriously wrong. On the
phones, it was wives, sons, mothers, friends; all talking about the same thing –
get out of the building! But, the way human brain is designed, everybody wanted
more information. “What is happening? Why do you sound so alarmed?”, yelled
Arkansh into the phone, to make himself heard over the loud, almost deafening
noise of steel rubbing into steel. “An airplane just crashed into the top
floors of the World Trade Center, nobody knows what it is, but there is no
time. There is a huge fire on those floors and it is spreading fast”, exclaimed
Arkansh’s wife.
Even before Arkansh could wrap
his mind around the unfurling events, he could see that everybody had been
informed about the same. He could see the terror in everyone’s eyes. He grabbed
his coffee mug, and started running towards the elevator and then suddenly
remembered that sign he had walked past a 100 times ‘In case of a fire, take
the stairs’. He had seen fires in his life, and he was not going to take this
lightly. He had to alight 62 floors, but he would have to do it. So much for
the stamina-building classes he had taken, when younger. That would be put to
test today!
He ran into a lot of strangers on
his way down, but somehow they all looked similar. They had two legs, trying to
move as fast as they could; two hands covering their mouths to avoid inhaling
the smoke; one nose trying to carry out breathing normally; and a pair of eyes,
pallid with shock and horror. It did not matter in that moment, what their
names were, which country they came from or what language they spoke. They were
all fellow humans, with the common human traits of fear, camaraderie, hope and
faith. It wasn’t an easy task, making your feet move so fast, the feet that
were used to relaxing, when your hands worked away on the computer. But, the sirens
from the fire trucks made it easier. There was a sense of urgency instilled
because of that.
Arkansh kept running for what
felt like forever, and a million thoughts were running through his mind. Would this
be the day he would finally unite with his parents? Would this be the day his
children would experience what it feels like to lose a parent? He kept having
flashes of his past, not because he thought he was dying. But, because he had
witnessed such a scene before in his life too. He was trying not to think about
it, because there was nothing in his life that scared him more than his past.
And this was not a time he could deal with such issues, buckling under the
pressure. There was nothing else that he wanted more at that point than to be
able to see the blue sky and the bright sun.
He was running out of breath, but
couldn’t afford to take long breaks. So he huffed and puffed, but kept going.
When he finally reached outside the building, he saw the magnitude of the
event. Fear induces fear. And it was only when he saw the horror on the faces
of the onlookers, that he realized what a death trap he had escaped from. The
top floors of the tower had collapsed by now and there was nothing but black
smoke that was visible. A paramedic moved him out of the way, and started checking
if his vision was fine, moving a light in front of his eyes. It felt like
Arkansh had frozen, but there was no time for all this, the paramedic brought
him back to his senses and kept ushering him out of the scene, saying “Sir, you
need to leave NOW”!
As people tried to accept what
was happening and started moving away from the site, there was sudden chaos and
hollering. The speed with which people started running, felt like a bull racing
arena. Arkansh peeked back, still running, when he saw that the first tower was
imploding. There was this loud “Whoosh” sound and the whole tower had
disappeared in a matter of seconds. He couldn’t help thinking about all the
people inside. Had there been enough time for all of them to evict safely?
Could they still be rescued out of the rubble? But, before he could think any
more, he blanked out with this thick, dense layer of soot and concrete that was
grabbing downtown with its evil extensions. There was such darkness and pall
that it felt like the worst tornado in the history of America.
When he woke up, he was in a
hospital with an oxygen mask on, helping his lungs recover from the unexpected exertion.
His family was around and he pinched himself to make sure this wasn’t a dream. His
coffee mug was placed on the table next to him; the coffee mug that had a
picture of his parents. In the days to come, all he could think of was going
back home, back to his country, once again running away from tragedy. He could
no longer bear to walk past the rubble that once housed his office, he could
not muster the courage to board a plane, and he was running out of ways to deal
with the paranoia of loud sounds.
But, the year after this huge
tragedy had struck this magnanimous city, he noticed things he had never observed
before about the city. An iconic part of the city had been diminished to
nothing but concrete, steel, and dust. Yet, the spirit of the people stayed the
same! It was not the city, but the people who made the city, that he had loved
all these years. He loved that there was always more room for diversity and it
took hardly any effort to be accepted. He loved that people were so busy, yet
bonded over commonalities like the Subway, or Winter in Central Park. It was
the essence of humanity that made these places memorable. And gradually, he saw
the city heal! The people helped bring back the city on its feet. The shattered
towers still stood there as a testimony of what had transpired that Autumn day,
but the rubble was not as heavy on the eye as before. There were wreaths all
around, tiny flags, teddy bears, and notes saying “We will never forget”! There
were signs of tenacity and resilience in these small acts of kindness that
screamed out loud saying “We will find a way to overcome this, we will not give
up”. But, Arkansh could witness all this only because he had stayed long enough
after the tragedy, to witness the healing process.
Years ago, he had deprived his
childhood city of this chance. It was for the same reason he was going back
home to Mumbai. A year after the day that he had woken up in the hospital, he
decided he could no longer take it; the guilt of having abandoned his brother,
his city. He should have been there to revive the spirit of his childhood city.
The city, where his home had been once, where he had learnt the art of playing cricket.
Yet, this was the city that had scarred him for life. The December of 1992 had
changed his view of this city forever. The riots, the killings, the blasts in
1993 had ruined all the good memories he had of this city. It was then that he
had lost everything; he lost his house in the riots, then his parents, his
friends, his neighbors, every single thing. He could not believe this haven
could turn so heinous. He could not believe the only reason he and his brother
had been spared was, because they were visiting their uncle on the other end of
the city. Only to find out on their return, their whole life turned upside
down. Even today, all he could hear was blood-curdling cries, wails and angry
outbursts. All he could think of was splattered blood, severed limbs, and cold
eyes.
Arkansh was so angry at the work
of these depraved minds, that he decided never to step foot in that place ever
again. He was old enough and had already applied to schools in America for an M.S.
degree. He left Mumbai as soon as possible, trusting his uncle to take care of
his younger brother. Once in the U.S, he worked hard to forget and wipe off
that part from his memory slate. He kept in touch with his brother, but never
ever brought up that ugly day in his conversation. When Arkansh got a job and
his brother was old enough to start college, he coaxed him to move to the
States too. But, his younger brother was the stronger one. He wanted to stay in
Mumbai, and help out with rebuilding the small town. This, Arkansh absolutely
did not approve of. Neither did he understand what ‘rebuilding’ meant! But, he
gave in, saying he would return in a few years. That day never came, because
Arkansh never could find it in him to face the monstrous setting which had
filched everything from him. He kept on trying to separate that part of his
life, not realizing one thing. Tragedy has to be embraced, to be able to heal. If
you ignore tragedy, you are giving it room to increase in magnitude. Arkansh
had been harboring bitterness, anger and hurt within himself; he never came to
terms with reality.
After almost 10 years, Arkansh
would be seeing his brother. Today, was the day, he would see what healing and
rebuilding meant. His escapade and the way he saw New York City transform
pushed him to give Mumbai a chance too. The familiar muggy smell, the yellow
and black taxis, the autorickshaws, the water puddles welcomed him back with
open arms. The misty wind at Marine Drive, the constant rub-a-dub of local
trains networking the city, the roadside vendors were all reminders of how well
the city had managed to retain its essence. Yet, there were signs of urban growth
like the billboards of Gucci and Fossil, that took him by surprise. The last
time he was here, the city was Bombay and not Mumbai. His little city had been witness
to many changes, it had gathered the pieces together and moved towards creating
a stronger, modern city. And it hurt Arkansh a lot, not to have been a part of
this growth, this renaissance.
In all these years, Arkansh’s
brother had worked with others who had suffered losses to rebuild that
community. They had embraced tragedy, accepted that their loved ones were not
coming back, but their memories would always stay alive. Over these years, they
had managed to put together a community housing, for children orphaned in such
tragedies. And when Arkansh saw the same community that had been burnt down,
now springing with laughter and cheer, he knew instantaneously, this is what
healing meant.
He had never even waited for the
process to start, agitated at the fact that such a crime against humanity was
so easily carried out here. He thought he would escape the ugly side of human
nature by moving half way across the globe. But, human nature is the same,
there is revenge, cruelty, insensitivity and then, there is empathy, fortitude
and forgiveness living inside the same humans. Which side shines brighter is
something nobody can predict, and you can never run away from it. The best you
can do is to find solace in the signs of humanity.
This was the day Arkansh realized
that people are the same around the world. There were so many similarities
between the two cities that he had loved and hated. Both cities had recovered
from disaster, not because of the landmark structures. It wasn’t the buildings
reaching out to each other, consoling the broken ones; it was the people who
joined hands and healed themselves, by consoling others. That essence was
common in both the cities. And later, as Arkansh would find out, was similar
all over the world.
Working at the community housing
with his brother, Arkansh realized it was so easy to let go off your pain, if
you peeped into someone else’s heart, helping them deal with their demons.
Smiles really were infectious at such places, because one smile meant the
triumph of the whole group. A month later, Arkansh was leaving Mumbai with a
lighter heart, and the desire to come back sooner. Today, Arkansh has a small
NGO called ‘CitySpirit’, that connects terror victims across the world, and
helps them bond over losses, find rays of hope and ultimately heal. He visits
Mumbai every year now, helps the kids and hopes that one day there would be no
need for such organizations.
Arkansh had known all along that
it wouldn’t be an ordinary day returning to that scary place, but what he had
not known was that his life would change forever that day. It was like his
rebirth; the rebirth of the happy, content, hopeful and lively person within
him. There was nothing ordinary about that day because that was the day he came
to terms with reality, that was the day he learnt a lesson in letting go, that
was the day his hatred transformed to fondness again, that was the day he
grabbed his inner ghouls by the arm and tossed them out, that was the day he gained
perspective, that was the day he felt part of two cities at once and that was
the day he finally felt reunited with his parents!
Note: This is a work of fiction, created for the WriteUpCafe Contest.
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