Celebrating death (Part 1)

Perhaps death is the only solace that one can have after the tiring and gruesome journey of life, at least one can lie down peacefully without any fuss. Perhaps he could stop complaining about life now, and perhaps people would stop expecting from the ‘dead’ body. At times they don’t even spare the dead and we would complain about them too. We get uncomfortable when we talk about death, but isn’t strange for what is to become the ultimate destination point for everyone we seldom want to talk about it. Death is permanent and yet we function as if nothing can touch, or at least we knowingly deny. Just think about it, we plan for everything but we do not plan for our death. No, I am not talking about your life insurance policy, anyway that’s of no use because the premium and the benefits are not enjoyed by you but by your family after you are long gone. After witnessing father’s demise I could not take the death of people well but gradually I grew cold about any event related with death, as in at times I don’t even know how to react to the news of someone’s death. I personally witnessed many deaths in the family leaving me with a sense of vacuum. My emotions have become so static that I can’t even shed a tear; I just feel a trembling silence, that’s it. That monologue might be coming from the realization that the thing called life is endless and when the body gets obsolete ‘someone’ just erases our memories and put us in a fresh body and push the restart mode.

I received a message yesterday being stated that Guru Ji is no more. I initially was very uncomfortable and later unsure of how to react. I am not sure but I believe he must have lived for more than 85 years. In a way he lived his life and touched millions of lives, he was a father figure to us, for my fiancé Megha and me. However, Megha was very much more attached to him than me, and more than a Guru he was her cute ‘little’ golgappa grandpa. Whenever he would make his travel plans to northeast he would call us and ask us to accompany him to various temple trips. He was a saint for me and a self-realized person, but I would keep a little distance for reasons unknown to me. Anyway, the old man reflected brilliance and he carried such innocence that can give an infant some serious complex.

But isn’t life and death similar to changing to new clothes and throwing ‘it’ away when it becomes obsolete? Both sad and happy part is probably in our next and fresh life we don’t remember how we land up in that body. It’s sad because we ought not to remember the beautiful memories, and the good thing is we shall not carry any baggages of hurt from our distant past. It’s an erased sheet which is ready to be filled up again. I see people around me talk about different topics- politics, cars, gadgets, lifestyles, and what not but I seldom hear them even mentioning about death and life, at times I do hear but more so in pseudo terms, more so in clichéd understanding of life.

With more suffering people would start realizing the ‘why’ of things and answers will be presented to them, provided we are ready to accept it or not. Until then, learning to accept death and celebrating its essence is what we can do. Gratitude!


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