A Ganesh Nadar

For Prashant Kharwadkar, it was epiphany.

As he sat in the belly of the hijacked Indian Airlines plane, his life flashed through his mind, in the slowest of slow motion.

What have I done with my life? Who have I hurt, when, how? Have I made amends, or enemies? Do I owe anyone anything? Have I left behind some tangible mark of my life, so that when I am no more, people will have cause to remember me with fondness?

Prashant Kharwadkar, aged all of 38 and not expecting to blow the candles out on his 39th birthday cake, did the mental math -- and made little notes to himself.

If I could do that all over again, then....

If I could meet that person again, have that conversation again, I would...

If....

In retrospect, the hijack was an opportunity for the manager of Uniroyal Chemicals to rethink his life, redraft its blueprint -- a chance to do it all over again and this time, do it right.

I can never forget those days, Kharwadkar says. Because it was a once in a lifetime experience. And because he survived -- and came away with valuable lessons.

Lesson one: Never make mountains out of molehills:

A frequent traveller, Kharwadkar in pre-hijack days would have been stomping with impatience if his scheduled flight was running 30 minutes late. And yet -- 154 people stayed cooped up in the confines of that airplane for 173 hours, with nary a murmur. They cheered each other up, supported each other, helped keep each other's spirits up.

When man really has to, he can endure anything.

Lesson Two: The only thing you have to fear is fear itself

Kharwadkar was hit by one of the hijackers on day one, on the shoulder, on the head. From that point on, fear was a constant -- fear of hurt, fear of death.

He learnt not to look the terrorists in the eye, to make himself unconscious. And yet, he was moved around four times, pushed from one seat to another. Each time, he thought, this is it, this is where the bullet with my name on it finds me. "I thought they would shoot the unattached ones first," he recalls.

Rupin Katyal's death was a shock. "It was destiny," he sighs. "We, all of us passengers, prayed for Rupin."

That death triggered off fresh intimations of mortality in Kharwadkar. Death, he realised, could come at any moment. Unwelcome, unannounced.

But then, they say that if a horse throws you, your best option is to climb right back on again. At once. Before the chill feeling in your feet climbs higher, and cloaks your heart and mind.

It was five weeks after the hijack that Kharwadkar had to fly again. "Yes, it was a little scary at first," he recalls. "I kept remembering that moment, when the hijackers took control of the flight."

The flashback scared him, moved him to tears.

Today, there is a twinkle in his eyes as he thinks back on that time. A hint of self-deprecation. A hint, too, of a new-found ability to see the funny side of things. "Security in Nepal is now very tight, to the point of being excessive," he laughs. "Now they look for knives, not grenades!"

He met Captain Sharan recently, on a Kathmandu-Calcultta flight. When time permits, he picks up the phone, calls one or more of his fellow passengers on that nightmare flight, touches base.

Traumatic memories won't go away. The best way to deal with them is to face them square, to reduce them to the right perspective. Kharwadkar learnt that lesson the hard way.

Lesson three -- Empathise!

If you live your life in isolation, a common cold is a tragedy, a stubbed toe a disaster. Look around you, though, and suddenly, your problems appear miniscule in comparison.

"In retrospect, I was okay," he says today. "It is the first time travellers who really suffered. You see," he explains, "I am a regular on flights, I have learnt to sleep sitting."

Less experienced travellers don't know how to do that, and it is for them that time -- and the frightening possibilities that every tick of the clock was fraught with -- stretched endlessly.

Today, he is more in tune with his fellow man. Thus, he feels, had the hijack not happened, the kidnapping of Kannada matinee icon Dr Rajakumar by Veerappan would have been merely a sensational headline among many. But in his altered state of mind, he found himself identifying with the problems the captive star could be facing.

He found himself empathising.

Lesson four: There is good in people, trick is to look for it

The most touching experience for him was to realise that the country as a whole was praying for him and his fellow captives.

"People who know you pray for you when you are in trouble, you expect that,' he says. "But when strangers do it...."

The country prayed. "And those prayers were like armour, for us, they protected us while we were in captivity," he says.

He recalls the inmates of the old people's home who called the captives after the drama was over, and told them of their ceaseless prayers, of the thanksgiving pooja they had held when the news of the safe release was flashed.

The media supported us, he says. "We learnt how, and to what extent, only after we were released."

The Indian Airlines PRO was sympathetic -- "He organised a lovely reception for us on our release, it helped get us back to normalcy."

'A stranger's prayer and blessings will help you all your life,' he says today.

Tangentially, he learnt another lesson. "Our culture is different from the West in this respect," he says. "We get emotionally involved when one of our own is in trouble, we are there for each other..."

Lesson five: See the other side

Kharwadkar hates the hijackers -- not for what they did to him, not for the trauma that they made him endure, but for their approach. It is, he feels, wrong to target the innocent bystander simply to draw attention to your demands.

But, he adds in the same breath, it is not enough to simply abuse the hijackers and leave it at that. "We should study the system that produces militants," he says, with a wealth of feeling. "We should examine what we are doing in Kashmir, we should ask ourselves why we keep people in prison without charges. This has to change, no person should be jailed without being told why he is being jailed."

Lesson six: Capture the passing moment

Often, in our rush to be somewhere else, we forget to fully savour the present moment.

"I was sitting in that aircraft, expecting to be shot," he recalls. He knew the hijackers would not, could not, shoot all of them. But he figured that a few would die -- and he would be one of the few.

That was when he took out paper and pen, and began writing a diary for his kids. Words that encapsulated the moment, words that snared his thoughts and feelings and emotions, etched them on those sheets of paper.

In sum, Kharwadkar's balance sheet makes good reading -- many lessons learnt, a life rethought and re-blueprinted... and no permanent scars.

Prashant Kharwadkar is one of the lucky ones.

The Hijack: One Year On