Nothing to offer

What do you want from me? I can't help you out. I'm also pretty sure nobody can. Unless you want cliches about time healing your wounds, if you have lost someone in the attacks. Or about how you are in a peaceful place at least now, if you died.
Do condolences help you? You are either my half-acquaintance, my friend's friend, or someone I saw on TV or someone I don't know or have heard of. I can express my condolences. And I can adorn it with adjectives. I don't think I should call you or meet you because I don't think you would want to meet anybody. I can't get myself to email you because I can't find the right words. Everything sounds shallow. It's unfair in a way. What words match death in depth? I think about chucking the idea. Unexpressed condolences are also condolences.
I want to donate blood. Some of you are alive and injured and may need blood. The queues to donate in the hospital are long. My blood group is a common group and will probably not be required. Maybe I should still go across and give it a shot. But there are likely to be security problems and they probably won't let me in the area. I guess I won't go. Maybe I should volunteer. These hospital websites aren't loading. For good reason-people are checking about their missing family members. I decide not to overload the website traffic. And volunteer as what? I don't want to counsel you. If I were in your place, god forbid - sorry, I doubt if counseling would work. My effectively rationalising mind finds a way through most messes. Maybe this time there's a subtle difference in that I came closer to doing something. This coming closer to action is something I owe you.
I can't seem to get back to normal work. I hate news but I'm still addicted to it. My mind is clouded. I'm not particularly sad or angry, just in a haze. Also frustrated. How can these news sites be updated every 5 seconds, I ask myself rationally, but my hands seem to be on their own trip, refreshing, refreshing, refreshing the page. The pity is I can't even read an entire article, even ones I start with immense interest. Who gives a damn? What does death have to do with foreign policy? I get back to drafting an appropriate email to a half-acquaintance, again in vain. These idle hours in the office are not constructive in any way. These hours are because of you and so they are for you.
I'd have preferred donating a part of my salary to buy these policemen vests that are actually bullet-proof. There is probably a government budget for this, it's just not being utilised. I have paid my taxes. I present to you my bullshitty 'it's the government's job' argument but I also know that it's only as useless to you as a monetary donation. The only difference is that I would have felt like I had done something concrete in the latter case but then this isn't about me.
What else can I do? Do you really care if I vote or participate in rallies? Nothing works here. I'm just hanging around waiting for the next round. I empathise with the common people of J&K and for a brief moment, also feel patriotic concern about the whole country turning into a security-less state. We can probably adjust to that as well. 'Normalcy' can be a constantly shifting state and more and more uniforms will figure in our daily lives. I share your despondency and I shake my head when you do and say, as you do, that the dead aren't coming back. And we are all done for. I will probably agree to everything you say, which is not good for you. I should stay away.
People are suddenly nicer, and I think that will last for a week. The other noises by temporarily vigilant citizens and temporarily active government officials will probably die out in two. Your loss (or going away) is having an effect. You are in my head as well, along with a feeling of inadequacy, a kind of intense helplessness. If I were stronger or if this were the first time, this would have made me do something, or try to do something. I know better now and just vent. My time and with it, my incoherent writing is dedicated to your loss. It's not anything but I really have nothing else.