September 27,
2001
by
Chithra Karunanakaran
The
Candlelight Vigil and Rally that we held in Jackson Heights, Queens,
the most culturally diverse Borough of our City, focused on our
collective grief as South Asian Americans living in New York City and
elsewhere in the United States. We
felt the pang of loss of our beloved and much admired (or in some cases,
much reviled) skyline. We
mourned the loss of women and men, firefighters, cops and rescue
workers, janitors, restaurant workers, techies and traders.
Several days before,
I had gone to Jackson Heights with a backpack full of INSAF flyers
shielding myself with a small green umbrella against a driving rain that
threatened to undo my handiwork, as I taped flyers on walls and store
windows. Being a professor
and therefore able to work flexible hours, I was able to get down to the
shopping area by subway, despite scary delays, flyer all over the
shopping area and double back in time to teach an evening class.
The next day I was
in New Jersey at a rally in the town of Edison.
Through a combination of circumstances, I clambered into the back
of a sedan, again armed with INSAF flyers and with the actor Sunil Dutt
sitting in front. Dutt made
a sincere and moving speech. A
neck and back brace sustained in a flying accident did not dampen his
commitment to share the grief of Americans.
Scores of speakers representing the spectrum of religious and
political beliefs took their turns at the podium.
I was invited to speak as well.
Later Zee TV gave me an opportunity to speak about the importance
of South Asian Americans uniting together in New York, New Jersey and
the across the United States. To speak with one voice against terrorism.
To mourn with one another as South Asians joined together against
wanton destruction and murder in the city that is our home.
Every day is a struggle. Through
numerous conversations we affirm our great good fortune to be alive and
tell each other of twinges of guilt at being allowed to live. It
shall feel this way for some time to come, as the weather becomes cool,
then cold and the bodies of innocent women and men lie under the rubble.
By
Chithra Karunanakaran for CalicutNet.com