Sunday, October 31, 2010

Bye Bye Birdy

Weird how death hits you, isn’t it? One minute you can be swinging and dancing off rooftops, the next you could be lying on a hospital bed, being worked on to revive you, as your soul drifts away from your body, and you watch yourself let go. I personally, hate death. Maybe not for myself, but it punches me in the stomach when it happens to the rest. It angers me on a certain level. Why would God put you on this earth, just to take you away? Does he hate his own creations so much? Does he question his success to such an extent so as to wipe out families and individuals in a single swipe?

A friend’s mother passed away. She was an extremely happy woman. Really, she was. Young, vivacious, kind, hilarious, beautiful and down to earth, and never seemingly worried or angry. She was a friend to her children, and her children’s friends and parents. So it goes without doubt that this is what instigated me to write this piece. There is just this very large empty pit in my stomach, but I still can’t put anything in there, fearing the urge to throw up. As I think of her, I think of her family. Her husband. My friends. I always thought I had a lot of problems, that I had to deal with too much, but I don’t think I can ever deal with not having my mother or father around. Even if I don’t see them every day, the fact that they’re there, and will be there waiting, cushions the tremble. My mother’s my best friend, while my father’s my support system. Tears stream down my face at the very thought of losing either one of them, worse even both, and all I want to do is hold both of them till they turn blue and refuse to hug me ever again. How do you deal with the pain? The loss? The anger? The guilt? How do you handle it all, even if their departing had nothing to do with you?

While all those questions remain unanswered, the biggest of them all arises. Why do we fear/ hate/ loathe/ flee death? What is it that associates death with all these strong emotions that inevitably leave us lost and barren? Why is it that images of the grim reaper send chills down your spine, and make you want to hold the lost for all eternity?

Then there are the dreams. I tend to get horrible nightmares, especially if I go to bed with a lot of thoughts on my mind. Recurring dreams of my family dying in a burning building, my father dying of his heart ailment, my mother dying in her sleep, my friends dying of a snake bite…safe to say my day is ruined. Haven’t you ever had that happen to you? It’s rather disturbing that your mind plays such cruel games with you, twiddles with your imagination, tickles your dark thoughts, and eventually, blows things out of proportion in your head, leaving you feeling battered and teary. Why do we care so much? Why does death have to be such a pain in the ass to deal with? Why do we refuse to let go? Do we create such strong bonds, tie such tight knots that can never be opened ever again?

Sometimes, all you want is an answer to the worst of questions. The truth may be slapping you in the face, but your heart still asks and feels too much. If only death never happened. If only you could fight your battles forever. If only you never have to feel, at some point of time, a thousand needles pricking your skin, passing clear fluids through your drying veins, just to keep you alive for a tiny bit longer.

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