As I sit in my room lost in my thoughts, deep in the sea of depression, the tick tick of the clock continues to build a fear within me. The fear that has always existed but somehow I have been successful in pushing to the subconscious. The fear of death is getting closer and closer, at an alarming speed.
The world was always a shell where I conveniently buried myself; trying to find safety from something I didn't even know of. But the thought of death snatches my shell from me, making me realize its shallowness. It has left me alone in a storm, allowing the waves to take me to the shores of the unknown land. This has to happen someday or the other: one has to return to where one came from, but why is that return so difficult and frightening? My world has been a vortex and I have entangled myself into it, willingly. So many things to do, so many wishes to fulfill, so many dreams to follow and what not. But life has always been a continuous effort towards betterment, an endless struggle to achieve my goals and an uninterrupted journey towards a destination of my own. I was so wrong.
I dread the day I will have to part from this world and start my journey to the real world. Nobody knows where they will end up. I think I know where I will be and I must face it. I have done nothing to build my heavenly abode up there. Although my future on Earth appears promising, I know I haven't pleased Him.
Why is there such an infatuation with life when all it has to offer is death? Why is there this attachment to a world which has no existence of its own? Why do we get joy from worldly things when in reality they provide us anything but joy? Why plan for unseen years when the next moment may not even be mine? Why take those first steps towards heights when they may never be reached? Will I ever be able to free myself from the clutches of the world and will it be possible for me to halt abruptly at whatever spot I may be on? Or will death itself do this job for me, coming without any prior information, with sudden ness, that is its very essence?
Someday I may wake up to find my family weeping for somebody they have lost, preparing for somebody's funeral, praying for the heavenly bliss of a loved one. Later it may come as a shock that it is me who is missing from the scene. The body lies there, wrapped in white, still and helpless while the soul has escaped. Standing at a distance it watches the proceedings of the doleful day, family members bidding farewell to their dear, laying their only daughter in the depth of the earth, in the darkest of rooms, and leaving her, never to return. Thus the burden will be off, the mystery will then be solved, and the queries will be answered once and for all.
Posted on 8/30/2005 12:11:40 AM
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