Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Ghouls of the Past!

WriteUp Cafe - Together we Write


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.

This post is part of the contest It was never going to be an ordinary day.. on WriteUpCafe.com


30 comments:

  1. You have chosen to write about an apocalyptic moment in human history and juxtaposed it with a catastrophic event in India. It is difficult to handle events of such gargantuan proportions, more so the aftermath. To you credit, you have not only been able to do justice to the subject, but have successfully depicted the psychological landscape of the protagonist too.

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    1. Thank you for your insightful and detailed critique! It really helps to hear what readers perceive of the write-up and whether or not they are being able to read into the mind of the character.
      And hearing from somebody as experienced as you, is great encouragement!

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  2. Very well scripted. Picking up the pieces after a tragedy like that would be so difficult, most people stick to the denial stages for a while (as I have heard). But you're right in saying we have to embrace it to heal. Ignoring is not going to work. Sometimes I feel that Bombay did good in healing/rebuilding but at the same time I feel that I dont want Bombay to be resilient. We seem to have changed the definition of resilient. It just means we bounce back. We shouldn't simply bounce back. The perpetrators need to be brought to justice too. Sure, people have to work and put food on the table so sometimes there's no choice. But there's got to be something more that acts as a deterrent in case someone's harboring similar ideas :( Its been 11 years now after 09/11 and not a single act of terror happened again - sure there might have been attempts but these guys were able to avert it. We need to be serious about our security too and show the bad guys that we mean business.

    PS: Bombay was misspelled as Bomaby.
    I voted too! :)

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    1. Thanks Deepa...I have no clue how people could deal with such huge tragedies. I could not even face it, even while writing. You remember the other day, I asked the instructor, how to deal with dark issues, when writing. It was about this writeup. At some places, I just couldn't bring myself to write about the grief and place myself there.
      Anyways, to come to the point about our great Indian Tolerance, I can't talk enough about it. India is, has been and is taking extra effort to be a soft target, why we fail to take stringent measures is beyond my understanding. How much ever the world criticizes America for its stand on the war against terror, I appreciate the fact that they took this attack personally, and made sure that a befitting answer was handed out to the perpetrators. Because, no attack is an attack on a country, it is finally an attack on humanity, and that should never be taken lightly. I am glad they made themselves heard, if you know what I mean!

      You might like one of my older posts about America's stand on War
      http://amrutam-nopen.blogspot.com/2011/04/americas-dilemma.html


      P.S. Thanks for the pointing out the Bombay thing, corrected it :)

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  3. WOW! Superb imagination! Very impressive!

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    1. Thanks Vishal.... this has been a issue close to my heart, so have been wanting to write about it since a long time...Hope I have done justice to the sentiments attached to these catastrophes :)

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  4. Hi Amruta,
    Here's a great write up by you. Enjoyed a lot reading your post. Very well written and expressed the tale.

    Keep Writing and sharing :-)

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    1. Thank you Simran... It is always nice to hear back from readers...
      Happy Blogging!

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  5. I am at a loss of words Amruta...You have an amazing hold while writing which gives a special touch of believe-ability to your posts...Also the way you have interwoven Indian Tolerance, Tragedies and ofcourse the desire to make it big in the land of opportunities is definitely worthy of accolades.. Keep writing.. It's a pleasure to read your posts...

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    1. Thank you so much Nabanita for your generous comments. I am honored to hear these from a balanced writer like you. And it feels great to know that readers are being able to relate to your work. Thanks again :)

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  6. beautifully captured so many emotions in a short story..very lucid and free flowing tale of two cities !! thanks for sharing.

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    1. Thank you Nitin....First time at fiction, so helps to get feedback :)

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  7. Very well written Amruta. I like the emotions and the feelings brought up by the events, which are so true. and 2 different perspectives. It is very difficult to put yourself in someone's shoes.
    Here is some constructive feedback.
    The day needs a bit more focus than the story around it. What happened on the day which made it non ordinary needs a bit more detail to it. Maybe like an individual small story about someone he worked with that day. Something to make it connect more.
    I think the narrative needs just a little chatter, back and forth between 2 people.
    the above 2 points will also help the reader look deeper and connect to the day and the events. like a moment of sunshine/awakening in the interaction of that day.
    what do you think.

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    1. I cant help but feel a little envious. This is so nice - someone giving constructive feedback on a post. Very rarely do you see that! Sometimes when I read a post, I am not even thinking in that direction. I think I should tune my mind too to think a little more both for my own blog and others - rather than just enjoying the story. Definitely helps.

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    2. Richa Di, Thanks a ton for your feedback, especially the recommendations. Even I felt that the focus had shifted a little away from the day, but I was finding it very difficult to chop off on the details of the tragedy, and then I only had 3000 words. So, will concentrate on better editing next time. And I completely agree to adding more character to the story with dialogue, something to keep in mind for my second fiction. Fiction is still a new genre for me, so learning new lessons with every attempt! Thanks again for the insightful comments, it will definitely help me grow :)

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    3. Deepa, It sure is nice to get constructive feedback, but I think a lot of people are not comfortable with it, so you really have to be close to that blogger or maybe have earned their trust to be able to leave comments with suggestions :) But, it definitely helps you to get a different perspective and pushes you to write better!

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    4. All the best for your write ups:) are you planning to become an author? or just taking some classes right now.

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    5. Very true Amruta. Lest people get offended. Though yes, as you say, feedback does help improve our style of writing!

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    6. Richa Di,
      Thank you for your wishes :) Don't know about being an author yet, but really love writing, so exploring options! Until then, honing my writing skills :)

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  8. Very well scripted. You've picked up a great topic to write. Kudos :)

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    1. Thanks Namrata.... Have been thinking about this topic for a long time, so finally put it down on paper. or the laptop screen, to be precise :)

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  9. Amruta, this is quite exceptional. Your topic may be 'old news' but your angle is refreshing and the way you write makes pictures in my head! I read any and everything to the end, regardless of the quality of the writing. When someone makes the effort to write something down I deem it worth reading. When the writing engages me, as yours does, it is both a rewarding experience for me, as well as exciting; knowing I have a new source of reading ready at hand.
    Loved it! Good luck with the competition and don't ever stop.

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    1. Hi,
      It is comments like these that make me say "This is why I write". It feels so good to be able to connect to other people with your words, and thank you for reminding me again, how much pleasure writing can bring!
      Thank you for your encouraging words, and hopefully I will write much better and about challenging issues, knowing that I have to meet the expectations of such insightful readers :)
      Thank you again for your support and Good luck to you too for the contest!

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  10. Hey! Congrats on winning the contest! I won the 1st runners up! congrats!
    Cheers!
    Here is my post..

    http://priyankazneverland.blogspot.in/2012/04/finding-peace.html

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    1. Hey... Thanks Priyanka... Congratulations to you too :)
      Happy Blogging!

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  11. It was very impressive Amrita.I have a same comment as Ms. Rochter,your writing is so good that I can feel/see the complete scene while reading it.
    Keep writing .

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    1. Thank you so much Anurag.... It feels nice to know that people can visualize the story... nothing gives more pleasure than that to a writer :)

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  12. The beauty of it is the fact that it cries out loudly the necessity of a disaster to change the fabric of one's thought - to understand oneself.
    Wonderfully done and so well paced. Thanks for sharing and congratulations too.
    Tell me one thing, when you say ".. was so easy to let go off your pain, if you peeped into someone else’s heart..." , do you mean that as humans, we tend to become less apprehensive about ourselves when we find that some one else is suffering more than us or do we merely switch into their shoes and forget about our problems?
    Is is pity or is it pleasure? Always escapes me ;)

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    1. Thank you, Prateek, for your wishes and appreciation. Sometimes, it really takes a disaster to set things straight and to enjoy the bonds of humanity.
      I think, there is a very thin line between the two.... for me, it is more the realization that there are others worse-off and the subsequent appreciation for life that is prompted from it. What do you think???

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Would love to hear your thoughts!

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