Death is something that has always made my mind
wonder. It is something you can’t experience and tell somebody about it. No one
who has been through death has been back to tell how it is. You can experience
every damn thing in this world, but not death. That is why it has always
magnetized me. Death, I learned in my school is the biggest leveler. It brings
the king and the slave on the same level. Nobody has been able to escape the
phenomenon but when I turn to the Bible, a ray of hope shines. The Savior, The
Good Shepherd, He fought for us, sacrificed himself, paid the price for our
sins and won over the power of death.
Death was been a very prominent part of my
upbringing. Since I remember things, the very early memories have stains of
death on them. The closest person to me, my grandpa, Pappa as we all used to call him, my friend, my guide, my comfort;
he passed away when I was just 12. The first taste of death. The first time is always the hardest. I still feel overwhelmed about it. Just
before the sadness could end, another blow came with my uncle off to the
journey to heaven. He went abode at young age, I overheard a few people talking
that he was food poisoned as he just took the position of the Arch Bishop of
the Marathwada region. That had enraged a lot of people as he was
about to put up a stop to their under-the-table income. He was one close person
in my family whom I could open up to. Each of these events came up with a lot
of maturity.
Death not just affects one person; it kills
along a lot of dreams and visions that were associated with the person. So many
things, so many people, so many aspirations are let down because one soul was
associated with it. These two instances are polar opposites, first, died a
natural death (that’s what I had been told as a kid) and the other suffered a
pre-mature blow. One went with the flow, and the other was obstructed by a few
self concerned souls. This fellas, is Life! :D
Death I feel is quite a few times necessary for
the person. You might think suicide? No, I strongly oppose it. A suffering
person, from an ailment, a disability, some disease, gets relieved from the
pain he/she has been enduring since long. The depth of pain is only known to
the one who is suffering from it. How small it may be! We as human try to mask
our pain, but what happens inside the body, the severity, only the sufferer
knows. Death at such times is an end to the suffering.
Another close person, my cousin sister, this is
her story. As a child she had been diagnosed with chronic heart disease. This
meant that she had frequent stays at the hospital plus periodic illness. She
was one major part of my teenage life. The person who was there when nobody
else was, Preity; a pretty young girl. Once she fell ill for like three months,
and later she was relieved of the pain at a tender age of 18years. I had become
a little hard by then. Then a couple years back, my dear grandma, I wasn’t
quite close to her, but she was a responsibility. One put on me by my grandpa,
the last words of him which I remember were, “Take care of Shanti (my grandma).” After
having a fractured leg, and a month long of bedridden state, my ever
enthusiastic grandma fell victim to a number of diseases. Trying hard to keep
her alive, the whole family helped out each other in her last 20 days at the
ICCU. That was one event which got the entire family in one place and making
them act as One Family. After all that pain and suffering, the always peeking
around and never silent ShantaBai gave
in. My mum and uncle watched the pulse go numb on the screen at 5am in the
morning. Everybody gave their best, but she was set free from the pain she’d
been going through.
Life is funny, and death is the punch line.
I write about this today as I got back from a
house which was a victim of this hard dart a couple days back. Also, my uncle,
a well known name in the Marathi literature world, Prof. Waman Nimbalkar passed away
last year, and tomorrow he has his birthday. Ironic. This man died the death of
a legend. One I wish to have, if I ever do! An intellectual, a poet by heart
and a writer by profession, he never left people without draining them in his
thoughts which always were hard hitting. Thoughts which made people wonder, and
think. He was a fighter all his life, and survived a near-death vein transplant
operation with the best results. Continuing the work for the down trodden for
over 7 years after he had been advised by the doctors to stop his ventures
directing to the major operation he had been through, one fine day, maybe the
happiest for him, the Panther of his time was made a target by the bullet of
death. This knowledge hungry Panther, as he was well known, spread the wisdom
of Dr. Ambedkar and took the path of Buddha to eradicate the caste system
that lived in the mind of the crowd. This legend left his body while he was
discussing his regular talks with a few people, while his heart could not
contain the happiness of winning the state level award for the best poet and
gave a big stroke to each member of the family.
A man who lived to his word, brought every
politician of the state to his newly build home. He took his last journey
covered in the Tricolor with over a 1km long procession behind him to the Ghat. A man who made his life an
example, who moved his readers and listeners to tears with his blood stained
and thorn studded poetry. A man worthy of honor, died a death encompassing his
life.
Such is
the play of death. Witnessing a number of deaths, the phenomenon has far less
effect on me, but it never fails to move me to work towards my own life. The
days are numbered, and the life is short, I wish to attain the horizon where my
dreams flow. To build up a vessel where people can come and satisfy their
thirst, find peace. Life is meant to be shared, death is to be owned!
The wonderful God, won over death so that we
can have eternal life in His presence. A destination, where we all will be
together. As the Word says that, When He comes, the ones who slept in Christ
will awake. This promise is what had numbed the feeling for death for me. For I
believe that one day shall come when I shall be with the ones I have lost. For
He rose from the dead, and so will I! This belief is what keeps the heart
glowing with hope, yet sometimes I hum this song, ‘If heaven wasn’t so far
away, I’d pack up my bags and go for a day…..’
