What
is death? Whenever I brood over it, I fail to come into any kind of concrete
conclusion. The very thought of death does not haunt me but makes my mindscape
simply blank. Death and its concept are then certainly empty. Nothing crosses
my mind. The more I think, the more I get blank. The simple chain of cause and
effect cannot be thus applied to death when it comes to explaining the event. The
very concept of death, I suppose, is beyond the epistemological paradigm or
anything of that sort.
I
have seen many deaths, much like births. A common phenomenon! An inevitable truth! However, hardly had there been
occasions when I thought about it. I have simply found nothing speculative. Even
if I force myself to speculate upon death, I give it up in the mid way. May be I
am looking upon it from a very personal standpoint.
I
remember the death of my grandfather was followed by a huge procession. Carrying
him upon our shoulders, we all moved to Aashram
where he had spent the last phase of his life - a long 20 years and from there
we headed towards the crematorium to conduct the obsequies rites. He
was a very renowned person. He set up the Aashram
which became his obsession later on. He devoted himself to the lotus feet
of God. He denied the luxury of life and chose to live with other hermits under
the same roof.
I
heard from my mother that he was a nice person and he loved me the most when I was
barely 1 or 2 years old. However, why he chose to stay at Ashram was not quite
clear to me till a certain point of time. As far as I know, there was no
obligation. Whatsoever the reason, it was his decision and I respect it. He never
ever had been the part of our life, but his presence was very much there. Deep down
I knew I had a grandfather. Even in his absence, our parents never felt like
orphan.
To
be very honest, the death of grandfather did not sadden me. I did not feel like
crying while others did so. I felt absolutely nothing. Perhaps the years of separation
did not have any impact upon my mind. It's an event that, I suppose,
silently took place. At times I feel myself very guilty. Am I selfish?
Don’t I love grandfather? Why did not his death have an impact upon me? Why couldn't I cry while other cried a lot? Several questions crossed my mind and they still
have remained unanswered. And I stopped finding those answers, for whenever I do
so, I feel restless. I feel struck and I feel myself in a void – a void that
can never be replenished by any means, by any explanation.
Years
rolled on since his death. Life has changed a lot. So has changed the Aashram – the most favourite place of my grandfather. It has to change for it is the rule of life itself. Nothing remains
static or as usual as it used to be. So many contemporaries of my grandfather have
already passed away. A few are left though and they will also die someday quite
naturally and inevitably crossing the mundane boundary of time and place.
Now
I accept my indifference towards my grandfather’s death. I believe it is less
of an indifference and more of an acceptance, not passive certainly but
brooding of sort. The old adage as goes “Time and tide waits for none” will
apply to my life too. And I will grow old someday and will die quite silently
being unnoticed, I guess, like my grandfather. I hope so.
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