It seems as though a lot is happening each day on the search and rescue (?!) front. Nonetheless, at some level, nothing changes. We don’t know where MH370 is as of this day, 2 April 2014. After all the analysis, refinement, investigation, criticisms, accusations and recrimination, we seem no closer to the truth. There are some unintended spin-offs though. We have been made more aware how much of our garbage lands in the oceans. It seems millions didn’t know.

How have the days gone by thus far? The initial days are now a blur. What one remembers are incessant phone calls from family, friends, colleagues—present and erstwhile—and numerous visitors. Every caller made an effort to make sense of what was emerging, and hours went in joining the vast number of well-wishers in articulating shock, disbelief, sadness, fond expectation and sober reckoning with the reality that we knew very little. The press had their copy, fed by helpful, invisible samaritans parting with inane detail that only a dreary reporter would have an interest in.

As the days went by, it became clear that no swift end to the vigil was in sight. The long wait has since extended interminably. The family has had to reconcile to the reality of Chandrika’s absence, each in their own way—some quite resolute in their belief in miracles and Chandrika’s safe return, some others more muted in their hope. A few have relied on the fact there has been no physical evidence of a crash and therefore concluded that the aircraft with passengers was spirited away for a bargain. As the days have dragged on, doubts and fragility have leaked through the brave stances, often accompanied by pools of tears, and ending with reaffirmations of faith that all will be well. Sometime in the last two weeks, my daughter, otherwise rather quiet and uncommunicative, asked, ‘What if she doesn’t come back?’ The question had obviously weighed heavily for a while and could not be held back any longer. What followed was a long conversation, where we offered answers that seemed right, but woefully insufficient to contain the flooding sadness of it all.

Over time, it has been hard to shut oneself away from all the speculations and conspiracy theories. Many are grand in scale, international in its sweep, and riveting in terms of plot. If I were a Bond franchisee, I would have many to choose from. None, of course, constitute evidence and we don’t have the aircraft in sight yet. But they have done the job of messing up the mind a bit. With each passing day, the conspiracy theories have begun to have a ring of plausibility. In a context where we have so little information, we are left to consider speculative yarn to fathom what may have happened. It opens up a field day for our biases and prejudices, and villains are sighted. Individuals, organisations and nations—some or all are suspect, and are legitimate targets of our scorn, condemnation, and anger.

It has not been easy to dismiss the conspiracy theories. We live in a crazy world, where deceit and diplomacy have gone hand in hand to justify war and maim hundreds of thousands. We are simply told that ‘stuff happens’ by way of explaining away the loss of lives, and the word ‘collateral’ is offered to justify the loss of civilian lives in pursuit of military objectives. We live in a world where some believe that the security of the privileged can be guaranteed by treating some others as expendable. We live in a world where there are enough people who seek to live outside the framework of civil society and wish to impose a way of life that many would find objectionable.

In this over-heated environment of security threat perception, it seems possible to justify most acts of cooperation and non-cooperation, threats, infringements, and violence as means to bolster ‘security’. No matter what the espoused stances are, it appears that no one has the moral high ground to call on another to be accountable, truthfully, and comprehensively. So we are left to look for clues and crooks amidst the Chinese, the Russians, the Americans, the Malays.… The list can be endless given that the world’s hotspots and actors are many, and those who can pull off spectacular ops are many too.

One of the casualties of this tragic episode therefore is the loss of trust. It has made it hard to believe what is made available, and it has become hard to dismiss speculative explanations. In our litigious society, there is the pain of claims that companies like Boeing and the Malaysian government play a part in shaping information, conclusions and responsibility. I am not aware of any public engagement with the press or affected families of passengers by Boeing or Rolls Royce in all these days. Am I the only one who finds that strange?

Sad, but true, that we all want a villain, a target, a punching bag to receive all our anger for the lack of any concrete evidence on MH370 thus far. The Malaysian government is an easy and ready target. One is tempted to lash out. Bad enough, that they have already been branded as murderers. I find it difficult to make them the principal target. Sure, they must have made mistakes. The crucial first week was almost certainly botched. Their limitations have been severely exposed. Technologically and in terms of expertise, they didn’t measure up. They seem to be at the mercy of aircraft manufacturers and service providers. In terms of emergency preparedness, they were caught napping. In their engagement with the media, they have learnt on the fly, never too sure what to share, how much is too much, and perhaps afraid of intrusive, investigative journalism and media trials. In engaging with affected families, they have scrambled to put in place mechanisms that have mostly remained focused on placating the belligerent Chinese. The Malaysians perhaps do not have the experience or heft in orchestrating a multinational effort.

What of countries that had information, resources, equipment, and expertise, that waited to be called upon, or that put national security above all else even in the midst of tragedy? It cannot be said with any certainty that any other airline and/or government would have responded in any manner significantly different, in copy-book style.

The reality is that the event does not conform to the lines written out in manuals. It was unexpected, and is unprecedented. I am not surprised therefore that mistakes may have been made. I recall that the US government’s role in the run up to Hurricane Katrina and the subsequent response came in for sharp criticism. Our recent history offers us enough examples of disasters that we didn’t quite imagine as a possibility. Lessons were learnt.

I suppose we will learn lessons this time too. I am not sure I see urgency here. There is no institutional mechanism sanctioned by the international community/the UN that is instantly triggered in an event like this. Perhaps the time has come for such a mechanism that has independence, jurisdiction, and the requisite expertise that can be drawn at short notice from member countries—something that can cut through the diplomatic, security, legal and other bugbears that impede speed of response and investigation.

Such are ruminations that keeps one engaged. It doesn’t change the situation in any way. Still no answers as to where the plane is. It is bizarre to plug in to the expectation of people who are hoping for a hijack rather than a crash. It is equally bizarre to end each day by sullenly telling oneself and others: No debris today.

I suspect we will not find any debris. With the information at hand, I think we have reached a dead-end. We need new/additional information to be more certain about the search. Somebody I suspect has it but is holding back for fear of backlash or other consequences. One is perhaps fearful for having remained quiet for long, or for what revealing might unleash.

Black humour helped manage the anxiety in the early days of the wait. One’s sense of humour has dried up as sensitivities about offending grieving folks have risen sharply. Everyday reveals some additional facet of life that has been on autopilot and can no longer be so. A re-programming seems in order, but feels premature. Plans for the years ahead that included building a home in the hills, where we had hoped to spend many months in a year, feels like a dreary task now rather than an exciting project.

The calendar on my computer still shows Chandrika as being in the Maldives right now and in Rome the following week. I think I will leave it that way for a little longer.

Image: Salon.com

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