Tag Archives: strength

Death Or Life- What Gives You True Pain?

2018 has not been very compatible to me yet, I guess it doesn’t feel good with me, or it just doesn’t want to make me feel good. Any which ways, I am tortured. 3 months and 3 deaths!! How is that possible? How am I supposed to even live with it? You will say, I have to and I will but it doesn’t at all feel good. None of them were close family members but all of the three people were relatives, one being a friend a distant one, a junior school-mate and yet I do not feel good about it. I feel sad.

Having received death news is never good news, of course it never is but then when you hear about a person’s death that was your age, your friend, you do not know what to do. It cripples your heart.

This friend I am talking about wasn’t my best friend, so I cannot say I am dying inside to hear this, but he was a kind person, a sweet person. I knew his family very well, his sister, his mother, even his dad. All of them are such lovely souls, and yet, I ask, do they really deserve this? Do they deserve the death of a young son, a young and a happy-go-lucky brother? Does that young boy deserve death? I repeat, young, again and again, only to emphasise, the fact that a mere 20 something person died, all of a sudden, leaving behind all his loved ones, shattered and broken.

I feel so depressed, writing about it, even thinking about it, that I cannot even begin to think how and what his family might be going through. I, really cannot say that I understand their pain, no I cannot, and can never until I go through such a loss.

This brings me to a thought, again and again and again. What if something so traumatic happens with me or my family? What if, I have to go through something so disturbing and painful? What will I do? I am losing it completely now, how would I handle anything beyond this?

Death is unpredictable, absolutely uncertain, then how can anyone live with this uncertainty?

And yet, we have to. We have no other alternative. Do we?

They say; time heals everything. But does it? Or does it simply makes you immune, and gives you the patience to live with it?

The selfish human that I am, I am making it all about me, again. I am forgetting, rambling about my agony here, that this, what I am going through now, is simply nothing. It is ‘just’ a fear of losing someone, and the pain of losing a friend, an acquaintance, and in no case it can be compared to what his family might be going through now. I am truly sorry for him and his family. Whatever I write and say here, can in no possible way express what I am feeling right now. I can in no amount of synonyms and adjectives express my feelings. I am so deeply touched that it can be expressed with nothing, with no words.

I cannot even begin to think what his loved ones might be going through now, and honestly I do not have the courage to, too.

William Shakespeare once said, “Death once dead, there’s no more dying then.”

So is it okay, that he is dead? His pain is over, right? But what about the people that he left behind? I ask this here, because, there is a possibility that he committed suicide. I cannot say for sure, we have just heard it. Some said, it was a road accident, and yet others who lived with him have to say that he committed suicide. We don’t know, and we might never know. But does the reason matter?

Does it?

According to Shakespeare, after death, there is no pain, but I guess there is. There definitely is.

I am sorry. I guess I have said enough, only to feel more vulnerable. Today, all I can think about is death, and its consequences. This truly is not making me feel good. (I know I must have repeated this several times, but I honestly don’t feel good.)

To end this post on a cliché dialogue from a full time Bollywood movie (Boss)

Ronit Roy says-“ maut ko to yuhin log badnam karte hai.. asli takleef to zindagi deti hain.”

“People defame death, but true pain and suffering comes from life.” (Okay, I know the English translation might not be that effective.)

And I think, today, I do agree with this dialogue, doesn’t suffering come from life? Once you are dead, you are simply dead. But when you are alive, you are alive, alive with that excruciating pain. And you can do nothing about it.

I am in no position to judge anything here, nor do I want to. But I desperately feel bad for this friend of mine. We may have lost touch, but this news came as a shock.

In a flick, he just passed away, and left behind grief and misery for everyone who knew him.

From the bottom of my heart, I pray that no single person has to go through with the kind of pain that he might have gone through, and that his family must be going through. May all of them find the strength that they truly need in this crucial hour.

And may his kind soul rest in peace.

The Strength of a Flickering Candle.

She was sitting there, lost into her gloomy thoughts. The room was awfully murky, and the darkness helped her hide from the light. Tattered as she was, so were her thoughts. Her appearance was no less depressed with rugged hair, with the black dress, and with face as dull as her feelings. She clutched onto herself, at a shuffle of sound, dreading anyone’s presence. She needed no one at the moment, she knew the amount of pessimism people brought to her, and she was also conscious of her own tumultuous state. It was all plentiful.

Lying down, she shut her eyes, as if the room was not dark enough. Taking deep breathes she suddenly felt the loss of air, the need for cool air. And there it was, a sway of cool breeze through the window which had been kept open in the dark of the night.

Only then with the flicker of the light did she realise that there was a candle far away in the room, barely alight. The wind blowing now was making it harder for it to be kept lighted and she did not even wish it to be lighted. But no amount of wind could blow off the candle. It almost got burnt out and then just when it seemed that it was out, she would find that it was still alight, barely alight, but yes it did have the vigour and the desire to keep itself lighted which she knew she missed in herself.

A small candle which did not even have the needed amount of wax to light itself fought for the light that it wanted to spread in the darkness of the room, and there she was crouched at the far corner, hardly breathing, hardly wanting to live.

If the candle could put up a fight, so could she. She would reignite herself again; she would rise up and not let any sort of obscurity win over her. Not this time. She would keep her life lighted from then on. And there just when the candle burnt itself again and gave the brightest light, she knew she was born again.

And as the candle went off, she smiled brightly, welcoming the dawn, her tears long dried and a face that had the power to conquer her world. Her soul set free from the chains of the darkness.