The time between birth and death, to me seems insignificant and sallow. Filled with remorse, and pit falls, life does not make much sense, when it is supposed to end and without any trace of it afterward. Life means entanglement, we wile away the time we have between birth and death, in creating obstacles for ourselves and others.
From birth till the last breath, I think life is a grand delusion and we go out of our way to keep the delusion alive. We bond with people, listen to them, listen to our heart and try to hoodwink death. Death happens all around, yet most of the time, we ignore it or try to tell that it is something which happens to some one else.
It was the death of a neighbour, which got me to realise the futility of life and transient of life at the same go. The lady in question, whose husband left her, to me resembled a house whose foundation was shaken leaving its rafters. A house whose foundation is shaken might retain its superstructure, yet a slight wind will bring it down like a house of card. She looked at me with eyes, whose lights I think was gone for ever.
The death customs I have noticed talks of continuity of life and the soothing presence of the thought of eternal life. I wonder who are these customs to help, the living or the dead? The lady, who to me was always a woman of mirth and laughter, post the death of the husband was an empty cage, whose soul just flew away from it.
With death being certain, why we human beings love life so much? With death breathing down our shoulders most of the time, why do we indeed want to live all the time? Why are we so fond of life, when it is to end one day? What is the cause of this life to continue, this hope to continue to remain strong instead of resigning ourselves to death?
Suppose, for a second that we give up the desire to live. What would happen to the whole game of life? Suppose the created world gives up its desire to live stops fomenting bonds with things, stops getting new life into the earth, will this cruel joke of life end? Death, I think is a way of Nature to make sure her play continues, yet men do not understand that. We must think a way must be found, to make death more tangible and life less attractive.
From birth till the last breath, I think life is a grand delusion and we go out of our way to keep the delusion alive. We bond with people, listen to them, listen to our heart and try to hoodwink death. Death happens all around, yet most of the time, we ignore it or try to tell that it is something which happens to some one else.
It was the death of a neighbour, which got me to realise the futility of life and transient of life at the same go. The lady in question, whose husband left her, to me resembled a house whose foundation was shaken leaving its rafters. A house whose foundation is shaken might retain its superstructure, yet a slight wind will bring it down like a house of card. She looked at me with eyes, whose lights I think was gone for ever.
The death customs I have noticed talks of continuity of life and the soothing presence of the thought of eternal life. I wonder who are these customs to help, the living or the dead? The lady, who to me was always a woman of mirth and laughter, post the death of the husband was an empty cage, whose soul just flew away from it.
With death being certain, why we human beings love life so much? With death breathing down our shoulders most of the time, why do we indeed want to live all the time? Why are we so fond of life, when it is to end one day? What is the cause of this life to continue, this hope to continue to remain strong instead of resigning ourselves to death?
Suppose, for a second that we give up the desire to live. What would happen to the whole game of life? Suppose the created world gives up its desire to live stops fomenting bonds with things, stops getting new life into the earth, will this cruel joke of life end? Death, I think is a way of Nature to make sure her play continues, yet men do not understand that. We must think a way must be found, to make death more tangible and life less attractive.
