When people talk about 9/11 every year, it evokes many thoughts and memories. I was 21, married at 20 and just delivered my first child. My 1st son was born on 9/3, 9 days earlier after 48 hours of labor. My MBA 2nd semester exams started on the same day – 9/11. As in all orthodox Hindu families, I was sleeping separate from the regular family with my Mom and sisters helping me manage my son. I remember that I put my foot down for the first time ever in my life about going and writing my exams so as not to ruin my academic year. May be it was my fate, it was a shock that I voiced out my intention for the first time or they just wanted to please the new mother – whatever is the reason, I was allowed to go and write my exams. I remember my mom fretting about my stiches, my sisters eager to look after my son in my absence, my mother-in-law offering to come to look after and my 84 year old grandmother who rarely touches the newly delivered offering to give me company as I write my exams.
I woke up early, expressed milk to store so that the kid can be fed when I was away and got ready for my exam. My blood pressure was high post-delivery and my gynecologist had given me some medicine to lower it. I fed my son and left to write my exams with my grandmother on my side and my husband driving anxiously. Was I feeling sad about leaving my new born alone? May be no – as I know my mother can take good care of him. I told him before I left, “This is for us – you want a more confident and happy mom right? Please bear for few hours, be a good boy and I shall be back soon. I shall not discuss the exam paper with my classmates after the exam as usual but would rush back to you. You just sleep.” I could smell my victory and was happy with my self though anxious about the paper as I was not allowed to read ( you will get headache which will never go! Was the reason given).
At the examination center (which is not my college) I got to know that the exam hall was on 3rd floor and there was no lift. My grandmother said I would not take stairs at any cost. I spoke to the college Principal who was very understanding and I was given a room beside his office to write my exam. My ammamma just waited out with a flask of hot water and tea bags to give me at intervals and ensure I don’t faint. I felt so happy that my college management had already spoken to the exam center and asked for a special provision to me. Ganesh Sir, Sathish Sir, Subhash Sir, Srinivas Sir, Sudha Ma’m – indebted to them forever. I don’t remember any pain – maybe I didn’t pay attention to it or perhaps I had not experienced it; all I remember was I was not ruining my career and that was the biggest thing to me. I remember my classmates looking at me in wonder (I’d like to believe that way – not stupid ;)) and brush me quickly before they ran to take their seats. Thanks to Bhargavi, Shilpa, Avanthi and KP, I wrote my exam and returned home.
There was a power cut since morning – almost for 12 hours that day till 8pm and my son was sleeping throughout the day. At first I thought he was dead or something – may be God wanted to punish me as I left him to write exam. Then mom said its natural as kid also is on medication as he is fed my me and I shouldn’t worry. But I really did. I guess all the restyl I took went to him indirectly and I felt guilty. Then, the power came – when TV was on, I saw the planes getting into the towers – the horror unfolded slowly with all news being absorbed. I was moved – I cried. My grandparents, parents and husband all said I shall not watch TV, I was not allowed newspapers almost for a month but sisters shared the news slowly in whispers. It was horrible. I was devastated, exhausted – both physically and emotionally. I slept.
The dawn told me this is going to be a long fight – both to me and the US. I made up a small race in my mind. We both shall win – who shall win first was a question to be answered. As the USA started its fight against terrorism since then, I too had to fight my war – war of my life: to stay independent, to pursue higher education and to make a mark of my own.
