Splintered Lives by Carol Holden Read Free Book Online Page A

Kathmandu.   He nods and smiles back.  
    The evening sky is clear, a swatch of horizontal white cloud shows across a bright sky.
      We hear the little plane approach and we stand to watch it descend, it splutters and we hear the engine miss a beat, as we stand there petrified, unable to move. The plane turns and hits a line of trees on the left of the runway.   Flames shoot in the air and a horrible sound of crunching metal is heard all around.   More flames reach in to the sky and a belch of black smoke obliterates the sun.   There is a stench of burning flesh as the fire consumes the people on the plane.
    My life is empty; I feel a bleak grey cloud hovering over my head.   The joy I had only yesterday has gone forever.   The unbearable sadness of my loss is as if I am carrying a heavy burden in my heart.   I have lost the lovely man who had made my life whole.   The harsh reality of his death has left me overwhelmed with grief. I have had only a few months of loving Taj but I know that it was a love that would have lasted our lifetimes. The beauty of his countenance, the living light in his eyes, the tenderness of his soul haunts me with an unbearable sadness and great loss.   I miss his presence, his gentle humour and the light of love that shone in his eyes.   But knowing that our love was real must sustain me and keep me sane,
     
    I had arranged to meet his plane from Kathmandu at the little airport at Pokhara. I was waiting on a wooden bench when someone called out to close the door because when the plane lands on the dry runway it fills the airport waiting room with choking dust.   But the plane didn’t land on the runway; it crashed into the trees alongside it.   The fuel ignited and the plane became a blazing inferno. There are no survivors.   The noise is harrowing as the flames lap the little plane and the smoke chokes the people waiting to take the journey back to Kathmandu.   There is much confusion as a small local fire engine arrives to try to put out the fire.   By this time the word has got around and Sahida and her family arrive at the site.   We can’t believe what we are seeing and the horror of the crash hits us and tears pour from our eyes. One of the firemen is fighting for his breath, as the smoke has overcome him.   Dr Menon gets to him quickly and with the help of the contents of his black bag that Sahida brings from the car he alleviates the man’s discomfort and helps him to board the small ambulance that has arrived, by this time.   There is a small hospital in Pokhara where Dr Menon sees to his patients and although it is very basic, the doctor does the best he can with the lean facilities there.
     
    The Menons know of Taj and my involvement and they are supportive of my grief as we stay at the airport, all of us dazed.   The firemen have now doused the flames but the task of bringing out the bodies has begun. Relatives of the locals who were expected on the plane have now arrived, as well as, tour guides who were expecting clients arriving also on the plane. Their clients being mostly young backpackers who were here to trek up the mountains.   There were also a few mature people who were booked into the Fishtail Lodge.
     
    There is chaos everywhere, the harrowing grieving of all the people, the sights and smells of burning flesh, the acid fumes caused by the aviation fuel, now obliterate the beauty of the landscape, and a great plume of smoke is reaching up to an unseen sky.
     
    Taj’s parents take me back to their house.   I am very confused about the Hindu religion and I don’t understand what will happen now.   They are very kind to me although they are dealing with their own loss of a son.  
     
    They give me the room I have used before and I curl up in bed in the foetus position and shake with shock and grief.   Everything feels unfamiliar.   
     
    I am in a dream world and nothing is as it should be.   I begin to long for my own family, my mother and