There are only some things in life that can be more frustrating, than flying half way round the world, cramped in your seat by the window, but with nothing to look out for except the vast expanse of emptiness that seems to engulf you, both literally as well as metaphorically.

Waiting for the announcement to board such a flight is one of them!

So, whilst I sat that day at the IGI Airport in New Delhi, waiting to board the flight KL 872 to Boston, I was once again stranded, without having much to do. There wasn't a lot to expect either from the next twenty-four hours or so. I have had enough of those in-flight movies, or that bland wine and dinner on offer, and I was in no mood to revert to the adventures of Bridget Jones either.

Caught once again in such a helpless situation, I let my mind wander. Of course, there was a difference between today, and the other days. The date-September 11, 2002! The first anniversary of the all too familiar 9-11.

But then, on second thoughts, it was just a date after all. So what if exactly one year ago, some diabolical mis-adventurist had taken flight from exactly where I was flying to, to plunge into one of the symbols of modern civilization. So what if the all too familiar sight that reminds us of FRIENDS will never ever be there again. So what, if in a flight of fancy, what was reduced to a gory mass of rubble was worth more than the economies of so many nations. So what, if the forces of evil had made a profound statement that will keep pricking us for ages to come.

Life still has to go on! We shed a few tears, we felt remorse for the people who were lost, and hatred and anger towards those who behaved in such an irrational and barbaric manner-surpassing all logic and insulting the very intelligence that distinguishes us from animals. But then came another day, and with it came the morning sun, and light and hope! The dead were kept aside to rest in the family albums, and to be referred to as numbers in talk-shows, and hang from those mute and immobile walls, smiling at us forever, only to be remembered once a year while we once again engaged ourselves in the busy days that awaited us-as if to have lived itself was a ritual.

The world changed, but actually didn't!

A few days back, I happened to have read an article. It referred to the two 110-story towers that were turned into 1.8 million tons of debris on that tragic day; resulting in $20 billion in direct losses. It talked about 3,044 dead or missing people, including 19 hijackers-give or take a few. About 400 other officials who lost their lives that day in a bid to help. It also mentioned 105 new babies that were born to widows of 9-11. And about 15 bombers, 50 cruise missiles, 25 strike aircrafts, and an umpteen number of other figures that reflected on how a nation in anger and agony got even with another that was the refuge of the person responsible for all this. Interestingly, there was no mention about the number of people who lost their lives in that other part of the world. Nor was there a count of the number of tears of those who were directly affected-this side or that side!

However, the belief that I had held was reaffirmed nevertheless: that 9-11 was infact just a number, just like so many others. A number written in black, a number that caused wrath and anger and pain, and a number that, for a change symbolized a victory of evil over good-albeit a short one, we hope. A number that had so many overt and covert meanings associated with it. But a number nevertheless!

My mind stopped meandering and came back to life with the boarding announcement. It was time to move on. To get back to ground reality. What is gone can never come back anyways. It is the lesson that is important for us to comprehend. Lost in the rigmarole of facts and figures, and an endeavor to avenge the wrong that was done, I still wonder if we ever tried to seek an explanation for what led to a set of human beings do such a ghastly act, and execute it with a finesse that only reflects upon their determination to destroy, kill, and harm. While no amount of logic can explain such a heinous crime, it still is imperative to understand what leads people to such acts, lest we let them get repeated due to our sheer ignorance.

As I was leaving for the airport that night, my mother looked a bit disturbed. Over time, she has come to terms with my being away for extended periods of time, and of my traveling at really short notices. But what disturbed her that day was that I was traveling on 9-11. I however told her in a matter of fact manner that there are only a few things that are more mystifying than wondering if we will see the coming morning's sun. So there was no need to worry about things that we couldn't help!

But as I got ready to board my flight, I was wondering if the fact that we still let a set of paltry numbers define our very existence, could be one of them?