A weird coincidence in relation to the infamous terrorist act has stuck in my memory ever since it happened. It was that fateful day that came to be referred as “9/11”. I was in Chennai for a cricket engagement.
If any old friend lives in the city I visit, I make it a point to visit him. My childhood mate Gopi lives in Chennai and so I took this opportunity to meet, as we have done ever since we renewed contact after a two-decade gap. It was decided that the best time to meet was over dinner at Gopi’s house itself so that we could indulge in some school-day nostalgia.
I went as scheduled, but Gopi had not arrived home that evening. So his son and wife tried their best to keep me occupied with some informal chat. After some time the telephone rang. It was her friend calling to inform about a tragedy and that a certain TV channel was showing live. It was the deadly act that had brought the massive structures of the WTC down just about an hour ago and news of it was spreading around the world faster than one could imagine.
Watching screaming people run helter-skelter, collapsed building’s dust flying, rescue teams trying their bit and the visibly moved reporters on the screen made a terrible sight that left us shocked.
Gopi arrived to see dazed, dull faces glued to the TV. His wife prepared a simple rice-rasam dinner in a most depressed mood, which was quite understandable. Even the dinner seemed tasteless in such a disturbed state of our minds. The expected nostalgia was not to take place. It turned out to be a sad time instead. I had to take leave of them.
The coincidence: Just that morning, Gopi’s little son was asked in his class to draw a memorable scene. He had written that of the twin towers, since he had only recently toured and visited the huge WTC and he was showing it to me while we were all watching repeat telecasts of the giants crumbling to dust. It was an evening that will long be remembered.
If any old friend lives in the city I visit, I make it a point to visit him. My childhood mate Gopi lives in Chennai and so I took this opportunity to meet, as we have done ever since we renewed contact after a two-decade gap. It was decided that the best time to meet was over dinner at Gopi’s house itself so that we could indulge in some school-day nostalgia.
I went as scheduled, but Gopi had not arrived home that evening. So his son and wife tried their best to keep me occupied with some informal chat. After some time the telephone rang. It was her friend calling to inform about a tragedy and that a certain TV channel was showing live. It was the deadly act that had brought the massive structures of the WTC down just about an hour ago and news of it was spreading around the world faster than one could imagine.
Watching screaming people run helter-skelter, collapsed building’s dust flying, rescue teams trying their bit and the visibly moved reporters on the screen made a terrible sight that left us shocked.
Gopi arrived to see dazed, dull faces glued to the TV. His wife prepared a simple rice-rasam dinner in a most depressed mood, which was quite understandable. Even the dinner seemed tasteless in such a disturbed state of our minds. The expected nostalgia was not to take place. It turned out to be a sad time instead. I had to take leave of them.
The coincidence: Just that morning, Gopi’s little son was asked in his class to draw a memorable scene. He had written that of the twin towers, since he had only recently toured and visited the huge WTC and he was showing it to me while we were all watching repeat telecasts of the giants crumbling to dust. It was an evening that will long be remembered.
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