Exactly four years ago on September 11, the twin towers of World Trade Center came crashing down when some terrorists slammed into the pride of New York with airplanes. Span writer Sujoy Dhar recalls his experience of spending a day in WTC that has since been known as the face of global terrorism

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To spend $13 dollars and three hours just to see one site during a short, budget holiday in New York City was the question being debated by passengers on a hop-on, hop-off Big Apple open-roof bus tour. Several said why waste the time just to get into an elevator. Even the lady at the ticket counter warned me of the long, boring wait to reach the Top of the World Observation Deck. On the 107th floor of the World Trade Center.

But since childhood I have loved collecting pictures of tall buildings, counting the stories of skyscrapers, not missing an opportunity to visit the top floors of high-rises from the Tata Centre in my home city, Calcutta, to the Nariman Point behemoths of Mumbai. It was a case of love at first sight for me with New York, and there was no chance I could leave the city without viewing if from its highest point.

So I did spend the equivalent of Rs. 565 and stand in that spiraling, apparently never-ending queue of tourists from across the world, waiting to be herded into the elevator for a slightly dizzying ride to the 107th floor Observation Deck. A year later, I was horrified as I watched on television the twin towers collapsing into a thick plume of mushroom smoke, camouflaging the tremendous loss of human lives and gouging a gaping hole in the heart of New York's financial district.

I could imagine how the New Yorkers must have felt if the feeling of a tourist could be so shocking. The face that flashed before my eyes immediately was that of the fat black lady who served me pizza in the Top of the World restaurant.

The next day as I rummaged through the files of my New York tour I could recover only a few scraps of papers, mementos of the WTC. I still had the $13 ticket, receipts from my restaurant bill, and a brochure which boasts: "No other building on the planet allows you to stand on a roof this high (1377 feet)." On the back, the brochure says: Open Daily: 9:30 a.m.-9:30 p.m. (Sept.-May) 9:30 a.m-11:30 p.m. (June-Aug.).

The WTC would never open to tourists again. It is only stored in the minds of those survivors who were part of that building, or tourists like me.

I can recall some of the attractions on the Observation Deck: a 750-building miniature model of New York City, and an auditorium offering a free simulated helicopter ride through the streets. The glass-enclosed observation deck offered New York City's best views, second only to the outdoor viewing platform on the 110th floor, the highest in the world but closed the day I visited.

Waiting for the elevator reminded me of the rural folks who come to Calcutta and stand in long queues to see the zoo garden or the Indian Museum. After the long wait, we passed through a corridor that resembled an aerobridge in an airport; then a robust security guard shepherded a group, which included me, into the elevator. We zipped upwards, feeling our legs become heavier with the elevator's fight against gravity. Then we changed elevators for the final leg to the 107th floor.

The view of the great city was truly mind-boggling. If skyscrapers are representatives of a city's economic might then none perhaps surpasses New York. But from the top of the World Trade Center, the breath-taking view was not only of the steel and concrete. You got an unsurpassed vista of all the islands, separated by the Hudson and East River, that make up New York.

The Statue of Liberty looked like a beautiful, small, decorative piece that adorns your living room. The great bridges (the Brooklyn and the Manhattan) that connect the island to the mainland remain etched in my memory. I took snap after snap to capture those views for recollections later. Never did I imagine that the images of the twin towers would fill the pages of innumerable coffee table books, magazines, newspapers and Internet sites for posterity.

Being short of cash, I had an economical meal of hot chocolate and a slice of cheese pizza for $5.50 (Rs. 240). But I distinctly remember the beaming lady (she resembled none other than Whoopie Goldberg) who served me the food. We chatted for a while on subjects that could help me write a travel piece later. Only I did not know it would be an obit to the World Trade Center.

When the towers came crashing down, the face that floated before me was hers. Was she there that day, waiting for the last time to serve pizza and hot chocolate to thousands of tourists who would never again queue up for the elevator. Did she perish?

Recently I went to see a hit Bollywood movie called Kal Ho Na Ho twice because it is shot in New York, a city I fell in love with. But the twin towers were missing in the frames. I am yet to come to terms with a New York skyline without the World Trade Center.