Ahmedabad plane crash: The screams of that horrible day still echo in the ruins of BJ Medical College, one year later:

Read, Digital Desk : It’s June 12th… a day that Ahmedabad will never forget. It’s one year since death rained down from the sky right here. A plane flying to London crashed into the BJ Medical College hostel and went up in flames. It’s been three days since this tragic incident occurred. As we step on to this ground, though a lot of time has passed, the walls, trees and ruins still stand, bearing testimony to that tragic day.

As we step onto the campus, the first thing to meet our eyes is the charred remains of a bike. Dusted with a thick layer of grime, it stands almost waiting for its owner to arrive, an owner who never came back that day. The bike is so badly rusted that it resembles an expensive Bullet. A short walk further on, a car still stands black from the fire-its windshield shattered, its body charred and the structure only iron frame.

Traces of devastation are still evident here

On one part of the hostel building, traces of devastation are still clearly visible-the walls have been razed, iron bars twisted and rooms destroyed-all this as though in silent protest. Here and there lies a student’s old book, and here and there a broken chair-as though time stopped here a year ago.

Walk on further and a tree stands black, branches withered. But looking at it, the tree seems to be whispering-it’s as if the tree itself is speaking-I am an old friend of this hostel; please listen to the story of my sorrow…

In the past, I was home to numerous medical students. Some would sit under my dark canopy fretting over examinations, others dreamt of their futures. Young doctors would sit next to me laughing, chattering, sometimes sharing life’s trials. I was filled with glee with their happy voices.

But that day-June 12th-was not so…

A horrifying roar boomed from the sky above. In seconds, a gigantic fireball descended upon me. It was a fire so strong that it could instantly turn any being to ashes; nobody could withstand it. I saw so many faces flying in terror; heard numerous screams. The fire engulfed me too. My green branches were charred black.

Though the trunk stood strong, the green life within the tree was lost forever. I was surprised and angry for not consuming the remains completely. The sight was shocking. As my burnt branches swayed with the breeze, they seemed to be recounting the entire event.

The remains lying here continue to ask many questions-someone’s glasses, someone’s broken bag, bits and pieces of someone’s dreams… all are here, buried beneath the rubble of time.

So, what has changed in a year?

It’s been nearly a year to the incident. Students have returned to their classes, life on campus is gradually returning to normal. But this devastated site, these charred bikes, these burnt cars and this talking tree are still here to testify against that gruesome afternoon. Because some devastating incidents don’t just become news… they are forever etched on the souls of the places they occur.