Every single one around us, despite their popularity, valour, vulnerabilities and humour, become utterly helpless in the face of death and deal with it in their own peculiar way. Some prudent ones at once understand the frivolousness of life and even start living their own lives after hearing of someone’s demise. Others simply mourn over the fact that the life is cruel. Some, even more naive, go up to the point of directing this misfortune to the more deserving candidates confusing death with a recruitment process. For them, there are some people, at each point in their time, who deserve to die more than the others.
This someone, the person who passed away, as they euphemise death, doesn’t have to be someone you have met. News of some celebrity in a far-off place or a person whose blog you used to follow is enough to make your stomach churn for days at a stretch. Is it so because we don’t give death enough thought unless someone really dies? Thereby leaving ourselves unprepared. And then, bam, you listen to the news somewhere or read it in the news feed, and then the first thing that goes away is your peace. Sleep, the haughty companion of peace soon takes the way out. You lie on your bed; music, that has always helped you make it to the next day feels like a dirge. Books remind you of some tree that had to be cut down for your solace.
A single death, a word that evokes a plethora of emotions while meaning nothing more than ‘lifelessness’, paradoxically, is so powerful as to change the lives of many.
When it strikes, it freezes the time. You enter a period that takes you back to all the moments you had lived with the person. Things that you read in the books and sensations like shuddering of one’s body, churning stomachs during adversities, now start making perfect sense.
Manifesting the mind as a time travelling device, the death reigns and prevails, removing the fine line between the present and the past, disheveling the very notions of science and rendering – grief, memories and dejection.
Grief could be overcome, but can dejection be? Memories might fade but do they ever vanish? Thoughts during the day can be controlled, but can the nightmares be ever tamed. Isn’t death, then, our final limitation. The greatest. Inexorable. Unfathomable. But, contrary to the notion, utterly talkable and consolable.