Death Stares at Us

Not a single person on this earth can deny death. Even those who do not believe anything. Because death is an inevitable reality. In " The Book Thief" Markus Zusak says, "It kills me how some people die." Yes, it kills us completely. 

In my life, too, death has always danced. The people I loved, I cared about, everyone just succumbed to death. So I got used to it. With each death, I become more and more puzzled. But does it stop life?

What happens when one dies? 

Nothing happens. Life goes on. The people who lose to death, we cannot find them in someone else. Once lost, they cannot be found again. Yet, life goes on. It stops for no one and it never should. If it stopped, all the principles of the universe would come to an end. 

But, it does not mean, we don't mourn. We do. There are shock waves. The stages of pain, the recollection of moments, we recall them in happy moments and sad events. We meet them in dreams. But we can never touch them, smell them or hug them. It's different. Every time, we see them, we just want them back in our lives, knowing it won't be possible, we just swallow our feelings and tears... So they tell us to wait. To wait till we meet again with them... In another world.. Its more like a fantasy. We will meet them after death. And I only hope for it to become true. 

Death Stares at Us

We keep on losing ourselves 

In Brown societies, family ties are close and important. We have extended families and we are close with them. Despite the family politics, we are connected to them in every dimension. Thus, with every death, we lose some of our parts too. 

And with each passing year, when we become a full grown adult, we are not the same anymore. We carry the salt of memories in our bones. We are nostalgic for some happy moments that we know will never come back. I would like to borrow some words from Shirley Jackson: "I am not gone. I am scattered into so many pieces, sprinkled on your life like new snow." We become the tiny pieces of dust - mote that is everywhere, yet invisible. We just pretend that we are doing better but we are never fully recovered. 

The grief is heavy 

Death is such a strange business. Sometimes, I think it better to not have strings attached, no kids, no partner so that we could save ourselves from the pain and agony that comes with it. But, then we long for the love, we crave empathy, love and kindness. We want to feel the warmth of our partner. The joy that kids bring into the home. That's why we become indecisive and succumb to fear, leaving the normal and adapting to sadness. Because the pain is heavier than the joy. 

And we keep the pain close to our hearts. We don't recall the last time we were happy but we know that we cried that specific day due to that particular reason. Isn't it strange? In our childhood, we barely paid attention to sad moments, we couldn't even recall when we fell from a bike, a slide, or a swing and got hurt. What did I feel at that moment? I don't know. But, when I do remember my best friend smiling and laughing with me when we played hide and seek. 

Shirley says, "Fear is the relinquishment of logic", I say "Fear is also the relinquishment of happiness." We are so afraid to experience pain that we don't even go for things that make us happy. Because, I want to experience everything but at the same time, I just don't want to get hurt. If everything is perfect and smooth, death will do us part. And I don't want that. 

The concept of afterlife

Even if I agree with the narrative that death is not final. And there might be another world and we would meet with each other again. But what about the years I spend here? Let's say, someone I love passed away 20 years ago and my time comes after 30 years. Would he wait for me there? Human nature tells me no. And even if he does, will I wait for time and not be happy with anyone here? I don't think so. With every thought, the world and its creation become a more complicated and complex problem. I have no answers because the dead cannot talk. And the questions keep on piling up, making me question my existence. 

I do not want to include religion here because people tend to get angry when you talk about the things you should not. They would call you a denier, a blasphemous. Gone are the days of Sir Syed who would research and write a book to prove his point without engaging in hateful debates. 

Perhaps, you would say that I should research it myself. I would if this was not a post-truth era. I would if I had trusted the authenticity of books. I would if the information I found on the internet was the truth. I would if I was allowed to. 

Everything is just messed up. You cannot run away from your thoughts but you cannot discuss them either. Because they are too dark. Or maybe they challenge others' beliefs. I have read all the Holy Books (translated ones)- the message was common. Then I read history and I witnessed some events that should not have been occured in the first place. Yet, they did and they made a big question mark on everything. So I found myself going nowhere. I have this, I have that. And in the middle of this and that, I lay and stared at those events, and books and lost myself. With each word, the scars become more visible. And I lose my focus, my questions, my topics and it keeps on getting worse. 

Finding answers

With so many distractions, I may not be able to find the answers. Maybe, in my seventies or sixties, when I have time and I am all alone, I might find some answers. Or maybe, when my time comes, I will finally be able to see the truth. Till then, you can tell me what you think of all these concepts, beliefs and of course, we cannot deny death. It might be that we do not even live to see the next day.