No healing from 9/11

9/11 Memorial & Museum, New York, USA.

Some anniversaries are too traumatic even two decades later. The tragic aftermath of the terrorist attacks in the US on September 9 2011 – crunched down to its bare date as 9/11 – never lessens in intensity with the passage of years. Such a large-scale human catastrophe, which unfolded back to back within minutes, killing too many at one go in a single deliberate cohesive act, is still too shocking to process.

If the death toll, still being counted, of roughly 3,000 haunts us, so does the coldblooded planning to crash four planes into prominent American buildings. The confusion of the hijacked passengers, the confusion of those trapped in these buildings as they caught fire or crumbled… The chillingly iconic photograph of ‘The Falling Man’ clicked by Associated Press photographer Richard Drew, which brought into sharp focus the lives lost in the rubble of the twin towers that came down and metal scrap of the four planes that fatally dived.

At the World Trade Center, it was business as usual that morning. Past 8 am and the twin towers of 94 floors were bustling with life – that is when it happened. The sky fell on them. In recent history no one could recall a bloodier, more coldly calculated brutality. The sheer cruelty of this multi-pronged attack, where four flights with such careful teamwork flew down to kill and only kill, remains unprecedented.

Contrary to rumours, time does not heal. Yes, it goes on to talk about other things and keeps us busy with too many mundane happenings for us to live in just one moment, however painful that moment be. Even for those far away geographically from where the attacks took place, even for those who were babies when this happened, the smoke-filled two-way blind panic of those who came crashing down and those who were crashed into, both caught unawares, is a palpable feeling.

After most global calamities, there is a catching of breath, a gathering of the human spirit and then a slow outpouring of grief in artistic or cultural spellings. But this was no ordinary tragedy – it almost crushed the human spirit beyond repair. Everyone was too numb to react or convey the mourning in any other terms but the most stark, most basic.

Why? This is the question that still lingers. Who – now that was a question quickly figured out. The al-Qaeda owned up, their leader killed, as the war on terror intensified. But why – no one can answer this ever, not then, not now. Because for the people who took those flights and those who were on ground right where the planes nosedived with such brutal precision – for all of them who happened to be there, it was a coincidence of such savage proportions.

And that is the most chilling part for the survivors. We know the truth, we know the inherently uncaring nature of such violence. That the victims are incidental when terrorists plan to grab headlines. And this is what keeps us sleepless as we approach yet another remembrance of the event: it could have easily been us.