7/7 – 10 Years On
It is hard to believe that 10 years have sped so fast since it all happened. I remember precisely where I was on that day. Few yards away…
I was on a course in London. Friends and family would have easily expected me to be far away from where the world was all crumbling over. They had every reason to believe so as this was one of my rare visits during working hours in the capital. Now, I happened to be merely a stone throw away.
The night before I had had a strange experience. I was ‘praying’ or rather talking to God about concerns over a friend and suddenly found myself repeatedly saying ‘It shall not come near me’, taken from Psalm 91. One of the very few verses in the Bible I knew at that time.
I had scoffed and reprimanded myself. Thinking what kind of foolishness is this ‘mantra’. Little did I know that the power of those confessions were setting the wheels in motion for my safety for the danger that lay ahead.
My mother meanwhile several miles away awoke in the middle of the night with a sudden urge to pray. She did not know why but she found herself making heartfelt earnest cries for her daughter.
I had awakened particularly early that fateful day. I arrived early for my course, much earlier than the other days. There was no incident in my travels, in fact the travel in had been without the usual cancellations and late platform arrivals!
The class started. Then.. What’s that? Someone exclaimed.
What’s what? I was thinking. I lived in the city at the time, my ears pretty much filtered noise.
Next a phone call came to one of the delegates, followed by another. The color of one’s face drained. The instructor too was now receiving a call. I checked my phone in case I was missing something. No one was calling me.
There has been a series of bombs, someone announced. And one of the bombs had just exploded a few feet away from where we were, he continued. Now the penny dropped. The bang we had heard earlier had been one of the bombs exploding. A deafening silence quickly filled the gulf of questions we had in our minds.
The explosion was on a bus just few buildings away from us. No 30 bus at Tavistock Square.
Sadly, some who died on the bus had survived the train bombings they had narrowly escaped. They had even called their families to tell them they were safe. Alas…
I hastily called my dad to say I was OK. Thankfully too…My phone battery went dead immediately after that call. I had lost contact with any anxious family and friends who would be trying to call me afterwards.
Who knows the nth possibilities of what could have happened to me on that day? I could have been on one of the fated trains if I had left home at the usual time. Or I could have been on that bus? Or what if the bus had exploded at the stop that was situated below the window where our class was?
Only in eternity perhaps will I know the answer to these. When I had mocked my childlike prayers the night before, I had not known that the disaster that lay ahead and that I was speaking words of power ahead of time.
July 7 2005 killed 52 and injured 784. It was and is the worst terrorist activity to date in mainland Britain. In just one hour, the capital was rocked by a series of terrorist attacks. Innocent lives of people who were going about on their daily business gone in one incomprehensible flash.
Today, 10 years on we mark the day it all happened. I am thankful that it did not come near me. My heart goes all out to the people who are not here today. Their families. Those maimed and injured. Those traumatized and now living daily with not just the physical effects but the psychological and mental effects.
My life was preserved. Not that I was better than those who lost theirs. I am thankful I do not feel guilty for surviving either. I am grateful I am here.
But how can I be careless for the chance I have today? How can I not reach out with every fiber of my being to help those that I can especially in the mental health arena? A year later I was to meet Chuck and our lives were to be changed forever. Defying Mental Illness had to be birthed. Lives had to be changed and impacted. I survived to fulfill a purpose I cannot afford to now joke with.
Today, how many of 7/7 that survive are suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder,(PTSD), or depression, survivor guilt, or another mental disease? We may never know the true answers to this for these are the invisible illnesses we do not see or people may not willingly talk about. But we cannot forget these people!
As we remember this day, let us pray for those gone ahead and those that survived to tell the horrible tale.
For those for whom 7/7 did not directly impact them, take today as a time to reflect on our purpose here on this earth. If you ‘cheated’ death, perhaps there may be something the world is waiting for you to do. Why not reflect on this?
Because in this crisis times, we can all each reach out and do something to make the world a safer and better place. We all have an assignment to do so.
Think about it!
Please help us remember those who died and those who survived 7/7 by sharing this post. Thank you!
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