11 Years Later, and We're Still Feeling The Effects

Note: Please read this, all of this, as it'll mean so much to me.

I remember, eleven years ago, coming from from school. It was either the first of second day of the first grade for me. I don't recall why I got home so early, or if I in fact came home past noon. But I got home, all happy and excited, and I see the whole family, which at the time consisted of my father, mother, and uncle, (along with my sister who wasn't even one at the time), staring at the TV. Remembering back, I didn't recall the look of shock, of fear, in their eyes. But I do now.

Being only five years old, I didn't exactly understand what was going on. The TV was tuned to FOX 5, and the news was on with breaking news. Looking back, I realize I could have been looking at a recording, since I currently own a VCR recording of that terrible day. It's buried in my attic now, most likely. Anyway, the TV showed the First World Trade Center Tower billowing with smoke. Soon, I saw "live" the second tower get hit. And then, I knew. This wasn't normal. Nothing, for a long time, could be considered normal.

I lived back then in New York City. I lived on Queens, though, which is far from the site of that terrible crime. But not far enough. From my fourth floor window, the Manhattan skyline was clearly visible. Normally, on a sunny day like September 11, 2011, the view would be beautiful. That day, however, it was different. Terribly different. By then, either the first tower or both towers had collapsed. The sky was thick with the dust of the debris. It was so bad, that it traveled. I didn't see the tower collapse with my own eye. And I'm happy I didn't. I don't think I could ever contain my emotions if I had. The smokey skyline was enough for my young ignorant self to realize that something that day had indeed gone amiss. Things had changed.





Now here we are, over a decade later. At age sixteen, I go to high school now. And, through luck or fate, the school I go to is only a 5 minute walk from where the Twin Towers once stood, eleven years prior. I walked to school today, feeling that the whole scenario was surreal. How is it possible that eleven years ago, people were running for their lives? How is it possible that down in Washington DC and a field in Pennsylvania, people were dying in such a despicable way? The 2,996 deaths that day, along with those still unfound, brought tears to my eyes that I fought to contain. I have no shame, I would have cried had it not been for school. I couldn't go today. But tomorrow, I plan on stopping by the tower being built right now, the Freedom Tower. I see it everyday, but I feel that I must go to it. It's something my friends don't understand.

I don't think people understand that those people who lost their lives could have been any one of us. My father worked only 3 or 4 blocks away from the towers. He probably had the day off, thank God. I never asked. Don't think I can bring myself up to asking. But I could have lost a father that day. I'm tearing as I right this, because I now realize how much life means to me, how much my parents mean to me. Thank you God, for sparing my father.


The effects of the attacks weren't pretty. Especially for me. I'm Muslim. And, as people might expect, my religion wasn't exactly looked favorably towards after that day.

My grandmother is leaving America this Sunday, probably forever. My uncle from Canada wanted to come visit, and he meant to come down to say goodbye to his mother. But he was stopped at the border. The reason? "Because it's 9/11" I don't know if it racism, or if it's just America being protective. I don't know if it was just my uncle, or just Muslims, or in fact everyone. But it makes me really sad. My uncle probably won't see his mother again. Perhaps ever. God knows, I learned a thing or two about life and death, and it's that life can be grabbed from you too soon. Be it by nature or design. It's so hard to be objective. But I really am upset. Both for my uncle's misfortune, along with the fact that it's 9/11.

Today is just a day to remember. To cherish life and to gather around to remember those who have fallen. Please, call your parents or a friend and tell them how much you love them. You never know when they might leave you.


I'll end this by saying this. May the innocent victims of the disaster eleven years ago rest in peace, and may their families find some closure, if they have not already. Remember them.


-Dipu Rahman