Her dreams flickered without beats, her eyes dimmed slowly,
Life crept away silently leaving her breaths in wisps.
Her skin tingled when death arrived with black brightness,
Bringing the world of colorful chaos to her soul.
Death remains inglorious in its full glory while life abandons more hope.
Our world is full of unsung heroes….. everyday heroes. We know so little about them…well may be hence the unsung heroes. People like George H L Mallory, who lived their whole life to achieve their dream…..the dream. In this case the guy achieves (controversial) his dream…..conquers the Mt. Everest and may be the first one to do so…and dies there. All alone, away from his family and most farther from love of her life.
At the end what he achieved…. Anonymous death? Kids are not even taught his name. So what he has done or not done to attain such fate.
We need to find out such heroes because we need their compassion in our life not because we need to be saved by them. We need their dedication for achieving our fate and above all we need their courage to go on even if it means to be alone and die alone.
I know as of late I have writing (at least thinking) a lot about my best friend who has the audacity to die on me and leave me all by myself in this buzzing world. So much for chivalry “A” 
, I swear if you hadn’t died I would have killed you because I have to act all brave without you. But this is not about my feeling (or maybe it is but someone else is also involved). So yesterday our common friend called me and told me he has some of your (A’s) possessions from the time when he used to share the flat with A.
He dropped by, later that night to give me the box, non-descriptive in itself but nevertheless Pandora box. He left pretty soon maybe not wanting to deal with an emotional-ready-to burst-in-tears-me 😛 . So I ate and washed the dishes while thinking whether I want a drink before opening the box or not. I thought I am strong enough to handle it sans the alcohol.
So I opened it, not knowing what to anticipate. What I saw was two T-shirts, one I hated so much that A must have stowed it away because I have always asked him not to wear it. Second t-shirt was the custom made, black T-shirt with “smoochie loves my swag” written on its backside. I busted out laughing. Next was a coffee mug with the logo of “the flash” and then bottle of his cologne. Now the bottle of cologne was something the friend could have kept for himself but he didn’t. I called him to ask why so and what he said totally stumped me, “I think you deserve to have every last bit of his belongings. You and A were like Emily and Nolan from the “revenge” series.” I was so tempted to ask do you ask “revenge” series but some rational frontal lobe of my brain stopped me 😉 .
I slept with a dash of his cologne and wearing his hideous T. thinking A was not into guys as Nolan was in “Revenge” series 😛 .
you remember the day when we had that nasty fight for remote-control and afterwards you came in my room with mocha latte as peace offering. we ended up on couch sleeping while the movie kept playing by itself, you have drooled all over my toes. then all of sudden we grew up.
i was buried inside every book of library and you were inside every walking female above legal age. we stayed partners as we were. you would come at my place tell me about how ravishing your new muse is and how un-ravishing food she made you for breakfast. Then one day you decided you should join the heavenly world of souls, rather fate decided that for you…for us. Your last words for me were to be brave, to stand tall no matter what.
but today I am afraid, I need you beside me like that day on swing. I want you to hug me and tell me that being different is exotic feeling and not the other way round. I want you to come at my place to tell me about your day, date and I want you to cook me my favorite and your signature “cheese omelette”. because I am tired of being brave. I am standing tall for so long, all alone, that my spirit is all tattered and crumbling.
I know what I am asking for is not possible, but please send your stand-by soon because we are running out of time.
I know with all the festivities going around I think this post is not the most suitable excerpt to read but the urge to put it out here is uncontainable.
I don’t know why but last night all of sudden my memory vault puked out a vision of dead body lying on the road while a 7 years old kid was clutching her dad’s finger tightly. The urgency to hold onto was not because of the dead body, lying there on the road, but due the fear that come when surrounded by too many anxious strangers… I remember clearly that day, my dad and I were on our way to gas station since our family were supposed to go for an outing as it was Christmas. I was asking for ice-cream and dad said keep your eyes peeled for ice-cream parlor. I asked him how would I recognize one, dad replied it would be crowded. Suddenly I pointed towards a crowded place, chirruping, and “ice-cream look there”. My dad knowing too well that it couldn’t an ice-cream parlor tried his best but I was (still am) stubborn. We stopped and I jumped out from the car before my dad could stop me or get down himself. But I was (and still not) not that stupid to rush into a crowded place all by myself so I went to my dad’ door-side waited for him to join me, which he did reluctantly though. As I pulled him after my tiny frame I saw a man sleeping in front of a truck (at least that was my first thought…I was only 7years old). I exclaimed, “Look dad they are performing magic”. My dad instantly scooped me up and said, “don’t be afraid”, he never asked me “not to look”. Like an obedient kid, that I was (still proudly am) I looked without fear as my dad explained that the man got hit by the truck and most probably is lying here ever since last night. I asked my dad, “How do we know he is dead and not sleeping?” My dad always the patient guy he was said, “He doesn’t have any heartbeat sweetie”. I was like, “Okay people without beating heart are dead”.
But that was then now I am amazed how easily I accepted death at that tender age and how now I am apprehensive about the same. How I was not afraid because my dad asked me not too but now the concept is alien. I don’t know about my own ideas. What amazes me most is how over dramatized the concept of death is and it gain forces me to conclude that we adults have the tendency to make easy things complex. We are so hell bent to look for logics that we conveniently deny the beauty of simplicity. We seek after wrong questions while looking for answers. Our questions are complicated which in turn twist the simple answers. What can quench curiosity of 7 years old can satisfy the same person after 20 years but why, what changed the perceiving capability?
In my opinion death is the most beautifully simplified concept. It is beyond materialistic pull (or may be push) and all stupid things that we waste so much time accumulating. Well I am pretty ill-informed to glorify death but I am sensible enough to hope that with time my thinking would be sorted. I won’t be afraid of it. I am sure I won’t be because I have done it before.
sphinx2403 