I am not annoyed with the way things are happening. I am not scared of what is going to come up soon. I am not nervous about what might happen in the next few days, maybe months.
I am just intrigued... intrigued by the entire phenomenon of life, love and death. And probably life after death. I find it all strange.
We are born. We fall in love with a couple of people. Time moves on. And one fine day (or maybe a not-so-fine day), BANG! There is this sword of death dangling on your neck. Looking right in your face. Weird.
All the more intriguing to me is the thought that whether this "death", that has a monster-like image in most of the young minds, continue to remain true to its image even as the body gets tired, the soul becomes more experienced and the heart grows old. I wonder. What is it like in old-age?! As a routine thing, it's not acceptable to crave for death in any near-to-normal situation, no matter how hard life gets. But doesn't the "goodness" of being alive begin to wither when you are old....Not strong enough to control your own senses... Too weak to walk around... Too tired to express your own emotions... Too helpless to be the real-you. Maybe I have a really terrible image of old-age. Probably because I closely relate old-age to not just suffering, but something more frustrating than that. Helplessness.
And then I wonder. When one is in that kind of a situation, what on earth could provide the poor little soul with the will to live.
When my grandfather was suffering from skin cancer, my parents really wanted him to live on. And they did everything they could. He passed away anyway.
My grandmother's struggle with throat cancer was in no way easier. She was the only essense of the kind of warmth that emanates out of age and experience, in the family. What I saw when I saw her in her last years, was more than pain. It was trauma. It was the reluctance to detach. It was not just the physical suffering. It was the feeling, deep down the heart, of refusing to go away. Away from the known. Towards the unknown.
A few moments before her death, she called me and kissed my hand. That eternal moment is here to stay with me. For the rest of my conscious life. And the question strikes me like hell! Is the transition from life to life-after-death a transition from sorrow to happiness? From human-intervention to divine-solitude? From the state of chaotic confusion to the state of eternal bliss? I hope it is. But what if it is not? :-/
Nani is ill. She is not doing well. There is a lot of glucose, borrowed blood, life-saving medicines, being thown into her system. Through experience, I know it's time to take the clue. I love Nani. I have told her that. A couple of times. Not too many though. I wonder. Where is it that she is heading to? To eternity? To the divine? Or to nothingness? To anonymity? Where?
And then there is the pain. The state when everything becomes seemingly irrelevant. Too trivial. Just the question- To be or not to be? But that question alone opens a plethora of questions. The most striking one- Is 'life' the true sense of "being"? Or is it death and the life thereafter? :-/
For the love of my loved ones, i hope the answer is death. Period.
