Skip to main content

About Death


Death is such an easy thing to happen. At times, I feel, it isn’t death which is accidental; rather it is life, which is. It is strange not to have written about it. Death has been a consistent thought hovering over my mind like an ominous vampire clouding over a meek moon. While two of my stories, “The Death of  A Soldier” and “Betrayed by Time” dealt with death as a kneel over which they revolved; on my blog, I never have written about death. To think of it, it seems a rather strange  thing.  Not to have written about death. Any blog about life had to stray somewhere into the dark realms of death.

It is rather coincidental that in last few months, I have read several books which dealt with death, the most recent being “The Year of Magical Thinking” by Joan Didion. The book traces a period of intense grief through which she survived post the death of her husband and her daughter. While reading it, I found it rather strange that having had so closely been touched by death, I had steered off the subject almost like being in an adamant denial. Before I was so closely visited by death in my own life, I would boisterously conclude any discussion about death with a solemn one step sideways argument. But that was before 17th of August, 2001 fell on that long balcony of that house on the fourth floor. Hit by a sudden uneasiness in the chest, which quickly turned into a pain which found me doubled on the balcony, I, on a later thought, was driven by a unique kind of stubborn stupidity to have walked three stories into a hospital next door. The visit to the hospital coincided with the daily round of senior doctor who was a heart specialist. Once coincident led to another, and I survived and woke up on this side of the world. Those three days which had the door opening in both the directions proved what I always said in my youthful sagacity- Death is nothing but one step sideways. I survived, and I continue living, in dark shadows of death still hovering over the brightest sun. Nothing came close to that feeling than what Joan Didion wrote about her husband when she wrote- John lived with a bad heart which will someday kill him. One only needs to replace John with my name to understand my usual day.

There is nothing sanguine about death. It walks lonely in the dark alleys with its head held down. It doesn’t ever look up, it doesn’t smile at you, it promises nothing but an eternal silence in the end. It doesn’t even have to take you along, a brief embrace hangs over your soul forever and your whole life thereafter becomes a struggle against it, against death, against the futility of life and against the eternal silence in which all the noises are to eventually fade. I survived death but had since been living with the feeling of a borrowed time. It gnaws my soul, feeds on the innards of my being. Didion’s husband inherited a bad heart. I didn’t. My father had a cardiac episode, but that was later than me. I had it at twenty eight, he at sixty two. Maybe, at some metaphysical level, he inherited it from me, something like the magician whose life was in a bird, I being that bird. Maybe, inheritance of a bad heart is a flawed idea in itself and we both embraced our own frailties through our own accidental turn of fate.

At the end of it, a fractured heart beats inside me which like Didion’s husband will eventually kill me. The knowledge of that damaged heart struggling hard to keep me alive does strange thing to my mind. I want to respond to minor kindness with wholehearted gratitude. I read my obituaries in my dreams. It makes me realize my own existence as an idea, extending beyond mere physicality of existence. I recognize myself as an idea, a though, a confluence of values. I do  not want much from the world. I want my six year old to delve deeper into her heart and derive her own value, spring-boarding from the foundation that I have built. She has a good heart and she need to be rescued from the vagaries of intemperate thoughts. She doesn’t inherit a bad heart and she needs to learn the deeper meaning of life without having to encounter the painful intimacy with death like her father. I need to teach her that before I someday take that one step sideways. I look forward for a good obituary on the day that happens and in the meantime, I want to prepare my daughter for the inheritance of a good heart and a kindled mind.  And of course, in this borrowed life of mine, I want to be pampered and loved, for I am the pampered prince of pathos.

Comments

Such a poignant piece Saket, it makes me both thoughtful and sad. Beautifully written.
Saket Suryesh said…
Thanks Marta, it is always inspiring to get your feedback. You are always so kind.

Popular posts from this blog

कायस्थ- इतिहास एवं वर्तमान परिपेक्ष्य

सत्यम , दानम , क्षमा शीलमानृशंस्य तपो घृणा। दृश्यंते यत्र नागेंद्र स ब्राह्मण इति स्मृतः।। ( हे सर्पराज , जिसमें सत्य , दानशीलता , क्षमा , क्रूरतारहित भाव , तप एवं संवरण , एवं संवेदना हो , वह मनुष्य को ही ब्राह्मण मानना चाहिए। ) शुद्रे तु यद् भवेल्लक्षम द्विजे तच्च न विद्दयते। न वै शूद्रों भवेच्छुद्रो ब्रह्मणो न च ब्राह्मण : ।। ( यदि शूद्र में यह गुण हैं ( सत्य , दान , अक्रोध , अहिंसा , तप , संवरण एवं संवेदना ) और ब्राह्मण में यह गुण परिलक्षित ना हों तो वह शूद्र शूद्र नहीं , ब्राह्मण है ; और वह ब्राह्मण ब्राह्मण नहीं है। )  - युधिष्ठिर - नहुष संवाद , अजगर कांड , महाभारत , वन पर्व   वर्तमान परिपेक्ष्य में जिसे जाति कहा जाता है , वह वर्ण व्यवस्था का विकृत रूप है। सनातन धर्म का वर्ण जहाँ समाज को व्यवसाय एवं क्षमता के अनुरूप व्यवस्थित करने का प्रयास था और कर्म पर आधारित था , जाति उसी व्यवस्था का विघटित रूप बन कर जन्मगत व्यवस्था बन गई। जाति या कास्ट पुर्तगाल

Pathaan and Polarisation- Movie Review

Many have not seen Pathan, I have. I have a huge tolerance towards stupid movies and I love to watch all sort of movies. What has bothered me most about Pathaan is that in terms of content and characterisation, it is absolutely shoddy, much worse than much lampooned RaOne AND there is no review which openly tells you about it.  Most reviewers have reviewed the movie like a teenager, gushing over VFX generated body of ShahRukh Khan. This reminds me of my schoolmates bunking classes to watch tomato-sauce-laced movies of Ramsey brothers, gushing over semi-nude voluptuous actresses in the late 80s. Only difference being that those were school kids in class XII, with raging hormones and a stupefied intellect when a world around them was fast changing. Here we have middle-aged professional movie reviewers guiding people to their way in or out of Movie theatres. Their primary argument in favour of the movie is nothing but beefed up Shahrukh Khan and the gap between his earlier movie and this

बाल विवाह - हिंदू इतिहास और सत्य

  इतिहास का लेखन उसकी विसंगतियों की अनुक्रमिका नहीं वरन उसके समाज के आम रूप से स्वीकृत मान्यताओं एवं उस समाज के जननायकों द्वारा स्थापित मानदंडों के आधार पर होना चाहिए। परंतु जब लेखनी उन हाथों में हो जिनका मंतव्य शोध नहीं एक समाज को लज्जित करना भर हो तो समस्या गहन हो जाती है। जब प्रबुद्ध लोग कलम उठाते हैं और इस उद्देश्य के साथ उठाते हैं कि अप्रासंगिक एवं सदर्भहीन तथ्यों के माध्यम से समाज की वर्ग विभाजक रेखाओं को पुष्ट कर सकें तो हमारा कर्तव्य होता है कि हम सत्य को संदर्भ दें और अपने इतिहास के भले बुरे पक्षों को निर्विकार भाव से जाँचें।   बीते सप्ताह बाल विवाह को लेकर विदेशी सभ्यता में उठे प्रश्नों को भारत की सभ्यता पर प्रक्षेपित करके और उसकी स्वीकार्यता स्थापित करने पर बड़ी चर्चा रही। इस संदर्भ में   श्री ए एल बाशम से ले कर राजा राम मोहन रॉय तक चर्चा चली। बाशम की पुस्तक द वंडर दैट वाज इंडिया - को उद्धृत कर ले कहा गया कि हिं