New York, New York

on a sunny day, it's a zippy three-hour drive from washington dc to new york. add some more minutes, maybe 30, for a highway stop-over for dunkin' donuts and a tetra-cup of coffee that lights a blazing fire within. today, i wonder whether that car trip will be possible ever again. will my dc buddy, sheila meehan, ever treat me to a speed-thru the ny highway again? will we ever see the megapolis with the same eyes again? not likely. for one, the hilton hotel, where sheila had managed concessional rates, is out of bounds i'm told. bang opposite the world trade center, the huge edifice has been severely affected too. gratifyingly, the asian executive who had reserved rooms for us at slashed rates, is safe and sound. at the hour of attack, he was just a whisper away from the twin towers of the tragedy. sheila has been in touch via e-mail, informing me about the state of everyday life ever since that black tuesday. there has been a slow-but-sure return to normalcy, an irrevocable sense of loss and the resurgence of the human spirit. on the washington streets, there has been an uneasy stillness for days, a deceptive calm, while helicopters police the skies noon and night. traffic moved silently for days at the georgetown junction, though now sheila says, "the cars have started honking again, impatiently...after all, life must go on." the new york and dc newspapers have carried pages of heartfelt obits, sheila reports, dwelling on people's personalities, traits and families. there was a report on an indian brother and sister who perished together in the blast. "it's hard to imagine losing one child but two?" asks sheila. "of course, there were entire families on the planes and apparently several small suburban new jersey communities have lost so, so many people." there have been stories about close calls. like the story of a young american man who was scheduled to be on the 104th floor of the world trade center. almost providentially, his first baby was born just an hour before his important appointment. the brand-new father couldn't make it for the appointment. hence, a lot of people are asking, "why not me?" no answers for that as there are none for "why me?" sheila, who lives in dc, further remarks, "but i don't sense the same tenseness in the people here. everything seems to have passed by swiftly, even such things as an impeachment. i remember john f kennedy's assassination causing much longer-term upsets. maybe this tragedy will too, but it seems that life goes by much quicker now. there's so much more information and foment. or is this an age thing?" it's surely the age we live in as well as the fact that we have grown up to become quite inured and thick-skinned. either way, despite this there's a palpable sense of incredulity, of disbelief. how could those attacks on the center and the pentagon happen the way they do in those unbelievable hollywood disaster blockbusters? where were the heroes, the one-man protectors of the world? while the world monitors the fall-outs, the developments and effects of the incredible tragedy, everyone who knows someone in the us has a story to tell. everyone is concerned about a friend, acquaintance, a relative. i wait for news about a friend who loaned me his apartment in manhattan once. my slingbag, containing the apartment keys, was whisked away by invisible hands close to the grand central station. the friend wasn't surprised, "oh that's a typical new york story," he consoled me. "not to worry. i'll just change the apartment lock." that was three locks actually. apartments are locked many times over to prevent burglaries and hold-ups. and i used to believe that was american paranoia at work. today, one doesn't. because the fears and anxieties have all come true with a horrifying intensity. will anyone trust with me a key to his ny house ever again? will i ever speed on a sunny day through the highway ever again? i'm aware that these are inconsequential, subjective befuddlements. the stark fact is that, none of us will ever be the same again.