This week, a close colleague of mine lost his wife. And even though she was suffering from a serious ailment the death was completely unexpected and premature. I read somewhere that loss of spouse is the most stressful event in a person's life. I pray that my colleague has the strength to bear his loss and so does their son who is in the middle of his major examinations.
I have always been intrigued and puzzled by mortality. On one hand it forces one to evaluate one's life and almost invariably you end up feeling the futility of it all. On the other hand it just benumbs you. I mean it is like you are having a great life, all is well and just what you wanted and then, BOOM! Death strikes and a family is a member less. Like you just walked into a wall and took a nasty jolt on your head. Complete and utter puzzlement, for the next few moments the mind is just frozen, no pain, no registeration of the blow, no nothing. We humans are used to using objects, persons and sounds as reference points to create our world around us. As such when a person leaves, my world is an important piece less. It is not complete now and I am at a loss to believe that it is the same world which was there earlier. How can it be? The mind refuses to accept the new state of affairs. In other words, what one finds weird is that the world still exists even when a part of that world is now gone forever.
And yet, mortality has a strange beauty that is equally compelling. The sense of 'zero' in face of death is also a glimpse of the fundamental truth. What truth am I talking about? Honestly I am not sure but if I were then perhaps it wouldnt be the fundmental truth anymore. For isnt it said that the truth is indefineable or inexpressible. A brush with mortality (someone else's as one's own is outside the scope of this piece) is a brush with the "force" for want of a better word. And in that sense death is not some boring dull event to be quickly forgotten. It is like a visit by a rarely seen comet.
In our fragile lives, births are almost always rejoiced over. This is mostly because birth of a child is seen as one's own accomplishment, an addition to my family, my next generation, the carrier of my name into eternity and so on. While most parents thank God for blessing them with a child, it still remains their personal achievement. On the other hand death is seen as an act of injustice against the family of the deceased. I am trying to argue that both events are two sides of the same coin. Both are equally powerful images of the 'force'.
And thus death too is my fellow passenger in this journey of life. One day it will get up from its seat, walk through the aisle, stop by where I am sitting and tell me that the next stop is ours. My nameless ancestors left us, one day my parents will get down and then I too will hold thy hand and disembark from the bus. The sweet humdrum of life and death will continue, the journey goes on...
I have always been intrigued and puzzled by mortality. On one hand it forces one to evaluate one's life and almost invariably you end up feeling the futility of it all. On the other hand it just benumbs you. I mean it is like you are having a great life, all is well and just what you wanted and then, BOOM! Death strikes and a family is a member less. Like you just walked into a wall and took a nasty jolt on your head. Complete and utter puzzlement, for the next few moments the mind is just frozen, no pain, no registeration of the blow, no nothing. We humans are used to using objects, persons and sounds as reference points to create our world around us. As such when a person leaves, my world is an important piece less. It is not complete now and I am at a loss to believe that it is the same world which was there earlier. How can it be? The mind refuses to accept the new state of affairs. In other words, what one finds weird is that the world still exists even when a part of that world is now gone forever.
And yet, mortality has a strange beauty that is equally compelling. The sense of 'zero' in face of death is also a glimpse of the fundamental truth. What truth am I talking about? Honestly I am not sure but if I were then perhaps it wouldnt be the fundmental truth anymore. For isnt it said that the truth is indefineable or inexpressible. A brush with mortality (someone else's as one's own is outside the scope of this piece) is a brush with the "force" for want of a better word. And in that sense death is not some boring dull event to be quickly forgotten. It is like a visit by a rarely seen comet.
In our fragile lives, births are almost always rejoiced over. This is mostly because birth of a child is seen as one's own accomplishment, an addition to my family, my next generation, the carrier of my name into eternity and so on. While most parents thank God for blessing them with a child, it still remains their personal achievement. On the other hand death is seen as an act of injustice against the family of the deceased. I am trying to argue that both events are two sides of the same coin. Both are equally powerful images of the 'force'.
And thus death too is my fellow passenger in this journey of life. One day it will get up from its seat, walk through the aisle, stop by where I am sitting and tell me that the next stop is ours. My nameless ancestors left us, one day my parents will get down and then I too will hold thy hand and disembark from the bus. The sweet humdrum of life and death will continue, the journey goes on...
No comments:
Post a Comment