(Warning: This post can seriously ruin your party mood and bring you face to face with death, albeit on paper, or a screen)
My loving aunt passed away this week, leaving a gaping hole in my life that I can not ever fulfill. I had not met her or called her in a long time, I couldnt get, or should I say avail the chance of asking her for forgiveness, in whatever way I might have hurt her loving and kind heart. It feels so heavy on my chest. I could not even make it to her funeral because of geographic issues but I kept calling my mom and my aunt’s family again and again and shared stories of a life spent in serving others.
And then it struck me. Today I am telling someone’s stories and tomorrow, someone will be telling my stories. If there is one thing that could render all my successes and failures worthless, all happiness and sorrows, relations and belongings, all that I ever had, or have or will have, or could have appear meaningless is death. The house that I live in, the clothes I wear, the jewels I adore, the food I enjoy, all is but temporary. Even the love that sustains me and the family I love apparently more than myself, is not for me forever. This world, and everything and everyone in this world will be dust. I will be dust.
The enormity of death belittles the vastness of this earth and the severity of issues that right now, right this second, plagues our thoughts. The thoughts of future in this world, the plans of tomorrow as I lay in my bed, the hopes and attempts of making it more fun, and comfortable, and successful, day after day, and in long run; everything looks so small and a meaningless fleeting thought.
And it makes every failure, every heartbreak, every downfall, every betrayal, and every let down infinitesimal. The person who hurt me and the pain it caused, both die if I am to die. The jealousy of a peer, the apathy and indifference of a loved one, the ignorance of that person who tries to dictate you, the possessiveness or the carelessness, the competition by people call our own, the cruel judgement of our very existence, the invisibility in someone’s eyes, the dependence or the independence, the respect and the privileges, everything is dust.
You can only hurt me if I were to live here. If this world were to confine me and define me in the permanent. It can not and you can not. Death may look like a captivity in eternity, but it in fact frees us in this world. The mere thoughy of death makes all the woes and worries that burden our soul disappear. Nothing in this world hurts us then and that is a truly delightful moment to be in. It makes us focus directly on what matters. And we realize this world is very simple, where we are nothing but to love, and we are to take with us nothing but love.
We may fear death as being dark and depressing. But it is in fact enlightening. It is not an enemy that will eventually engulf us, but a friend that is here to guide us in this life, to liberate us from the shackles of issues that let down our soul, till it eventually embraces us. My friend, death is our friend.