Death. We all wonder about it sometime or the other. And some of us worry just a little more than others. He belonged to the latter. Death was always the most intriguing part of life to him. He often wondered about life after death. Does the soul really exist? Is there an afterlife?
To him death was romantic, comparable to the very best of Keat’s poetry. To him it was like standing on the edge of a cliff, watching the thin line that divided life and afterlife. He loved the feeling. He knew in death lay the glory, the answers to life’s many problems. And in death lay the beginning of many more. Yet, he loved death.
He always wanted the end to come announced, so that he could look at it in the eye and embrace it like a long lost brother. The transition – it should be peaceful. And then one day it happened.
Death stared at him in the eye. And unlike everything he had imagined, his life was not flashing before his eyes. There was no darkness that was slowly descending. All he could see was a light. Something in him fought; fought like there was no tomorrow. He reached out for the light, it was near; yet it was beyond his reach. He reached up, searched for a word. For the last time he moved up to call out - and kept on fighting.
As strong hands pulled him up, he realized how beautiful life was. How greater it was compared to death. Life, it wants to live. And that is the greatest truth of them all.
(Based on a true story)
3 comments:
Romanticism in Poetry - one of the most disgustingly boring parts of my English education but it covered few of the most beautiful lines of English Poetry.
Completely disagree with the first and completely agree with the second.
death has always intrigued me and yet it scares the living daylights out of me..pun unintended.. :)
its a pity we cannot experience it and yet live to tell the tale.... :|
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