Who wants to die?
Interestingly no one wants
It is because after
death, you really do not know what is happening.
Why should you know what
is happening? Because it is human curiosity.
It appears there was an accident.
There were a lot of people either dead or dying. One among them was a very old lady. She has no use for this world. No one
would really feel sorry if she is dead. Interestngly her son also was there among the people who were involved in this accident.
That son as it is was another old man. The lady was enquiring with everyone whether they have seen her son. This tells that
people try to keep in touch with their own tribe. Nobody wants nobody of their own to die. But, when there is an accident
like a bomb blast or something and many people die, usually people take it so easy as if nothing happened. Life returns to normal before the impact is even known to many.
People put a statue of someone
killed in a particular spot. Later many even do not know why a statue and who that man is. Death is a wonderful thing. I am
discussing this matter with many people in the past few days. Had some very bitter
feelings coming my way. I mentioned to some about this article. In fact I
am holding this piece lest
people think I am an abnormal person. Some times truth sounds bizzare. Any way this friend tells me and bring these ideas
of mine before the world. Here I go!
This is about my uncle who
passed away a month after my father died. My father was hale and hearty. Only problem was that he was old. 86 is a good age
to be called old. I asked my father once why his eyes are very pale. He laughed and said “ Your Father has become an
old man.” He had health problems. But, he was not exactly bed ridden. May be for a few days he needed the help of others
to live. Otherwise he was on his own till the end. He used to attend the marriages and other social gatherings as usual. He
used to sit in one place talking to all who come to him. And, many would come to him since he was a lovable man.
I was to write about my uncle
before I write about my father. All said and done, for anyone in this world father is the best person and hero. My daddy strongest
is the slogan. I am not an exception to the rule. So, let me go to my this uncle. He is a distant cousin of my father. He
was a teacher like many of my relatives. He was very friendly and jovial man. There are many who talk ill of him also. I have
always seen him as a friend, as is the case with many uncles. Fathers are tigers. Mine was not. Uncles are friends. Thank
god mine, particularly this one was! I participated in discussion on one of those popular channel. A few days later, I attended
a marriage or something like that. I met this uncle there. He told me that one day he was making himself ready to go out from
home and when almost was leaving the place, saw me on the TV. He says he cancelled his plans. Sat through the programme and
then went out. I was thrilled that the old fashioned people also appreciate my activities.
Now about the real point
that I wanted to make. Uncle after retiring, shifted to Hyderabad, where his younger son is there. He was making
himself busy with activity of being a Purohit. He was a well to do man. Sons, two of them are settled and are happy. Uncle
was a popular man. He was being invited by many for performing all kinds of activities. He was a good match maker too. Many
people told me that he never demanded a particular sum of money for any of his services. He would accept whatever was offered
by the customers.
On this day also he went
and performed Puja at one place. Came back home with many things. In the next few days choice would
be an Upanayanam in his nieces family. He gave them certain requisite material and advice. Then Aunt asked him about his choice
for supper. He refused to eat anything and asked for milk. Aunt went into the kitchen and took a few minutes to come back
with warm milk. Uncle did not respond when she said something. She became suspicious and touched him. Uncle was dead. Oh,
God! What a way to die! What a lucky man uncle was! I wish I die like that.
Father was not so lucky.
He had to be hospitalised. He was there on fluids for a week. People wanted to shift him to the city. Ultimately the decision
was deferred. Father although the time in the hospital was mumbling “ Sree Ram rama rameti”. The slokam never
went further. It never stopped too. My brother who spent all the time next to him in the hospital also told me that father
had vision of gods and sages visiting him. I never thought father was steeped in devotion so much. He passed away without
much problem. I knew people who were in bad situation before death.
I was discussing with an
old colleague this morning about her parents being in a bad shape. I was also talking to another friend about the same matter.
My mother, who bore ten children out of whom five of us are alive, is in a situation where she needs help. Till recently,
she lived alone, not liking to live with any of us. She was a role model for many around. Can such a person face the situation?
If she is irritated and unhappy, who is at fault?
I know, I sound very harsh
when I speak about this subject. My feelings about death are my own. I was damn afraid of death and perhaps still I am. I
don’t drive any vehicle. Even a bicycle. I am sure it came as a result of my fera psychology. Then there were certain
incidents. My health was so bad that doctors were feeling embarassed to talk to me. I was sick for a long time. I am as such
very thinking kind of person. This isolationa nd lack of an vocation for a long time made me philosophise about life a lot.
I read a lot during those days. My perspective of life has undergone sea change. I have perhaps become a pessimist too.
Death is the only and the
ultimate reality in human life. Everyone has to die. There is no one in the world, who could escape the jaws of death. Then
why think that they are jaws? It is the most logic end to the life. Then, we have our weeknesses. Every father can die. No
matter whose father, he is! My father should live eternally. He should not even fall sick. I should never even think of death
and all the other negative things in life. My life should be a bed of roses. Can it happen? Can you avoid death and conflict
in life? Why then fear to discuss death?
I have translated around
ten stories on the theme of death from different languages. The translations were published in one of those laeding telugu
monthly. I was perhaps pbsessed with death even at that tiem only. After reading so much about death, I was in the back of
my mind, thinking a lot about the matter.
Death is the beautiful culmination
of the journey called life. It need not be aeen as something unwanted. People who say they welcome death also, given a chance,
would like to escape it. I am not one of them. Like Bhishmacharya of Mahabharatam if one could die at the time that he wishes,
it would perahps been better. It is not possible. We know it. Then why be afraid of death.
My only wish is that, let
this beautiful end of life come in a dgnified way. If it could be like that of my uncle with whose reference, I have started
this narration, it would be wonderful. Let there not be pain either physically or mentally before daeth. I know I am asking
for too much. But, I have a right to ask for it. That is what I think.