What If
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“What-if..? ” I started, staring blankly at the far end of the room, a quiver of fear rife in my voice.
“Shhhh” Anita, my wife said, pushing her palm hastily to my mouth before I could further that thought. As her eyes glared me down, lovingly, tears welled in them, begging me not to venture near that emotional precipice. I didn’t. Instead, we sat there in silence, hand in hand, and let our tears fill the chasm.
“I’m sorry…” I said.
PREVIOUS DAY
7.15 AM :
Once at the door, Anita slowly tilted her head and let it rest on the door, as if too tired. Her eyes were still red from the previous night. Tears still lingered.
“Wish you the best Arvind. ” she smiled genuinely and then hesitated for a moment, “I know what this new job means to you. I certainly do..” she said gently “b-but, I am sad as well ; sad that we are moving farther away from a baby.” A tear streaked down her cheek pulling her face deeper into sadness.
“..the specialists, the tests, 3 painful years trying, the sleepless nights.. ” she choked up “now this — new job, relocation, lot of travel…”
“Can we talk about this in the evening Ani ?” I said, a tad irritated.
“I guess so..” she offered a wimp smile as resignation and disappointment ran in to give her un-needed company, while I stayed stoic.
I did wanted to take her in my arms. But the ambitious career junkie in me would not risk it ; risk a crash land right into another argument when I had a date with success in an hour or so. She left for work.
7.30 AM :
The morning was crisp and the weather beautiful. A clear blue sky with warm rays had ushered an unseasonably warm fall day. I waited for my taxi to take me to Euro Brokers, an Investment Management firm, where I had successfully braved back to back firing squad of interviews the previous day.
“Mr. Thompson from HR will meet you at 9.00 AM tomorrow.” the recruitment co-ordinator had smiled. “Just show up and sign the contract Mr.Kulkarni” he had joked about the easier HR-round, the last one as well…
“..go get it ! ” I said to myself, shaking off Anita’s sad face from my head, literally pulling myself by my shoe strings.
“Twaaang…” my shoe lace snapped. “Damn it..! I will need to make a stop on the way.” I muttered.
7.45 AM :
The taxi finally materialized, 15 minutes late. I was visibly irritated..
“Sorry sir, I got held up at…” said the raspy fifty something Caucasian.
“… make a quick stop at the convenience store on 10 th and Main..” I cut him off jumping onto the back seat.
A tobacco pipe lay on the windshield next to a couple of kids’ photos. Smell of tobacco wafted through the taxi suffused with cheap air freshener. Pipe had left it’s mark on his voice and the edges of his otherwise neat, white goatee. A fedora hat sat neatly on his head and his eyes sparkled with childlike innocence. For a large man, he had a grace that belied his frame and his profession. Tony Bennett played softly on the radio. We headed to the store.
8.10 AM :
“..I’m really late now.” I yelled, running back from the convenience store on Main & 10 th with a pair of black shoe laces.
” .. the check out clerk was a retard ! ” I vented toppling my shoes and furiously working the lace into the holes once back in the taxi.
He smiled at me through the rear view mirror.
” .. faster and I’ll add a 20 to the fare.” I stated flatly.
“No need son,” he said calmly, ” I’ll do my best..”
8.15 AM :
“The moron who said ‘When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.’ must have been a nut job ” I said dismissively looking at a trail of red tail lights ahead of us, inching slowly and threatening to add to my woes.
“Paulo Coehlo..” he said, deftly steering into an alley.
“I’m sorry ?” I said instinctively, surprised and my gaze still lost in trying to make sense of the dark alley we had detoured into.
“Paulo Coehlo in ‘The Alchemist’ ; and yes, he did spend a few days in a facility” he chuckled.
“.. short cut.” he said, reading my concerned expression in the rear view mirror. “That road was blocked up bad and you seem to be in a hurry..”
“You sure this route is better ?” I asked nervously, staring him back in the mirror. He just nodded.
He cut across traffic, smiled at flipped middle fingers and waved an apology at every honk, neither losing his smile nor his temper. We made it across 15 blocks, but then…
” Uh ho. You were right. Looks like there’s an even bigger mess here son ..” he said apologetically ; the street ahead resembled a drive-in’s parking lot – honks blaring and many a drivers flipping a bird..
8.40 AM :
We had moved 2 blocks in 10 minutes now and I was losing it. He patiently ignored my demeanor.
” I’m going for Liberty street. ” he declared as he swerved hard to make an alley “from there you can make a 3 block dash to get to your destination..”"
“What ! ” before I could finish, he was back into another alley. Few more minutes in internal roads led to a side road. After a few blocks, he came to a halt. ”There, once you get down, a right at the lamp post and a 3 block hike will get you there son…”
I thrust a 50 dollar bill to his face and stormed out fuming. A few steps later, I accelerated to a jog, shaking with panic at how close I was to blowing up this dream job.
“Fuc.. him !” I cursed and ran faster, neck tie and coat flaying.
8:47 AM :
“Thuuuuddd..” a loud dull impact followed by shrieks halted me in my tracks, still two blocks short.
As I looked up, a ball of orange mushroomed from the side of the tower. I froze. ” Holy crap !, I think I saw a plane go right through that building ” yelled a guy at a nearby street stand. Glass crumbled from the facade of the North Tower of the World Trade Center ; gray smoke slowly emanated.
8.55 AM :
“…we have unconfirmed reports this morning that a plane has crashed into one of the towers of the World Trade Center…” the TV boomed at a deli I was in-front of, WTC burning in plain sight 2 blocks away. Sirens and firefighters swarmed in while debris flew out the building like a drizzle from a shower. Soon, tiny figures — people, materialized at the windows, crying, begging for help. Helpless sobs broke out on the streets. Then, it happened. First of the people took the fatal free fall, unable to bear the smoldering cauldron of a building.
More followed.
“People a-are jumpinggg , oh God, oh God..” wailed an elderly lady. More joined her.
9.00 AM :
” The North Tower is hit, but the south is good and they are letting people in ..” declared someone. “Don’t go people !” screamed the shaken elderly lady standing next to me, unknown fear looming in her eyes.
9.04 AM :
“What the hell..” screamed the owner of the deli looking at the TV screen that was broadcasting this live. In slow motion, another plane, flying low, was inching slowly to the towers, as if like a moth to a fire.
Minutes after, the second plane stabbed through the heart of the South Tower. The tower’s top floors erupted into a ball of orange and black flame.
9.30 AM – 10.00 AM
30 minutes later, the giant structures burned worse than before, flames licking the glass facade while the towers swayed like twigs on fire.
“..the structures might go down. We are not safe here..” the lady next to me said
” no way ! They are steel structures, we’ll be fine..” a teenager dismissed. But she started to leave. I followed and a few others did as well.
We walked backwards, eyes always on the Trade Center, to the south side of Trinity Church. The street sloped up and we got higher and higher. When we reached the cemetery, we turned around and saw the towers – it is an image etched in my memory forever ; it was the last time I would see the towers. Shortly thereafter, tower two started to wobble badly, then… slowly, as if in a replay it started to slide down. A few seconds of muted silence enveloped us, then, a great avalanche of dust and debris gushed towards us.
We ran for our lives.
10.28 AM
I was at a lobby on 42 nd with 100 other people. Cell phones were jammed and TVs replayed the collapse of the South Tower while people, numbed into silence, gaped. As if it were another replay, the North Tower followed it’s fallen mate like a hero joining his love interest — felled by deceit and finally collapsing after a brave fight. Disbelief, anger, sadness filled the room. Some cried, some swore, I just stood there and froze.
11:00 AM :
I jumped on a ferry. Why, I did not know. Once on the Hudson and parallel to the Trade Center, or what remained of it — two empty chasms with twisted steel and enormous cloud of ashes over it –, stared back. The immense void brought cries of despair, of anger and of disbelief. Deep below, embers from the funeral pyre for the perished pair just consigned to flames, still burned, fueled by innocent lives .
Unlike before, my call went through. “It’s me Anita…” I stated, then, I began to sob. Uncontrollably. Sobs of relief choked her too. After the call, I sat looking at the people. Black, brown and white skin tones were impartially coated with a ghostly gray, as if reminding us that beneath it all, we are all humans, the same. New York, a city of indefatigable spirit was ground to a halt, crippled, hurt and in dust. A millionaire may have sat next to an urchin and none could tell the difference.
This tragedy was a leveler, a lesson in humanity and a wake up call for many like me. A tear furrowed through the soot on my face as it dawned on me as to how lucky I was..
Life, they say, is a series of seemingly unrelated events that work in concert with a definitive purpose. That truth couldn’t be more starkly apparent for me than it was on that ferry. The universe had indeed conspired to help me.
What if my shoe lace had not broken ? What if my taxi had arrived on time ? What if the taxi driver had not made the detour ? What if I had made it on time — 30 minutes earlier to the 91 st floor of the South Tower ? What if I did not follow that elderly lady out of the deli ?
What if I was not as lucky as I was… ?
What if , what-if ….
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