Kushal M. Choksi - On a Wing and a Prayer: Spirituality for the reluctant, the curious and the seeker

The Hudson was flowing gently, unaffected by the hustle on the island of Manhattan along the way. The commuter ferries criss-crossing the calm waters left ephemeral white lines in their wake. The sun once again rose behind the city skyline to outline its picturesque silhouette. Towards the southern end of this gorgeous profile stood two resolutely tall and perfectly symmetric sentries, as if guarding the frontier by the Atlantic Sea. I woke up to a New York City that appeared misleadingly cheerful on that late-summer morning.

The cogs of the gigantic capitalist machine had already started to pick up momentum by the time I left home. Armed with a copy of the Financial Times in one hand and an oversized cup of coffee in the other, I ran through a mental checklist of the conversations I had to have and targets I needed to meet. In that regard, I was probably no different from the milieu of people on their way to work in the dream city.

Every day, a short commuter train ride would bring me to the transportation hub in the bowels of the World Trade Center. A long escalator ride up to the mezzanine floor and a brisk walk alongside the shops on the ground level. Cutting across the Tobin Plaza while greeting the majestic cast-bronze mural. And from there, a short westward trek down Fulton Street towards Old Slip to the office building overlooking the East River.

That morning, I would ominously deviate from my religiously travelled routine.

I loved what I did. At a very young age, Wall Street had sprung open the doors to the famed American dream that I was determined to achieve as a hyper-ambitious Indian immigrant. I was so focused on getting there, that at some point along the way I stopped asking exactly what I was chasing, why I wanted it, or whether I really wanted it at all. At that time, it felt strangely right.

I ascended the escalator and began my predictable journey. My body was navigating the mezzanine floor of the World Trade Center, but my mind was in its own virtual realityflooded with thoughts about my never-ending work, my demanding boss, an argument with my girlfriend...

BAANNNNNGGGGG! A deafening sound pulled me out of my reverie.

It was a massively high-decibel blast, followed by a ghastly hissing sound. It was as if a high-pressure steam pipe had just burst open. All I recall about that chilling moment is that it was dreadfully frightening. Not knowing how to react, people around me were screaming in fright, and a frenzied dash for the exit doors had commenced. A moment ago, the world was spinning as usual, but in the blink of an eye, it had completely changedjust like the unsuspecting, colourless liquid in a chemical experiment instantaneously turns pink with one more drop of a titrant. And in that moment, I was suddenly and forcefully ejected out of my own virtual reality. At one level, besides the frightful sound, there were no signs of anything out of place. Yet, the swarm of commuters was gripped by the fear of the unknown.

A bomb has gone off. Its mayhem here. I overheard a gentleman screaming down the phone while he ran for the door. At a distance, a lady tripped while running, and that caused a stampede. Men who would otherwise hold the door for that lady were now stepping over her just to get to the exit first. A strange fear of an imminent end had gripped the atmosphere. At that moment, my entire life flashed before me. A fleeting thought crossed my mindperhaps this is it for me.

As I somehow made my way to the exit, I was stopped by a security guard cajoling the river of people gushing outside to stay within the building.

Everyone, stay inside. It is unsafe outside these doors. Go back inside and be safe. The concern in his blaring voice was clear. I stopped in my tracks, debating whether to heed his instructions. Just then, someone tapped my shoulder from behind.