Loss is not a number. Thousand Dead. Hundreds Injured. It jolts you. Shocks you. But it is not loss. Loss is in the grief of a lost child’s father, in the pain of a lost wife’s husband, in the unknowing innocence of a lost mother’s child. Loss is in the contemplation of a life ahead, a vast, unending life time ahead, without the warmth of a person; in the useless tears wept, in the memories that corpses leave behind, in the reminisces that taunt, in the unkept promises, in the snuffing out of promise. Human tragedy is in human emotion; not in stone cold, ruthless, soulless numbers. There is no tragedy in a number. Adding one more, or subtracting two, would not make a difference. But even the glimpse of a human story wrings the heart; tears it to pieces. And then you see thousands of other numbers through this human prism. Grief speaks. Tragedy speaks. Destiny speaks. The silence in a thousand homes. The dried tears in a thousand eyes. The denouement.


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