My grandfather expired yesterday. He was 86. He was one of my childhood heroes. Born in 1926, he studied medicine and became one of India's most well-known anesthetists of the time.
The fact that hit me like a ton of bricks was that how come such a truth is lost upon us: that this life of ours is going to end one day! All the scampering, milling, all the chores – all those worries – and then one day, just like that everything is gone.
I went into a sort of cocoon – lost in thoughts… my childhood images spinning in front of me like a movie. Then my adolescence and right up to this day. How amazing that in today’s day and age of electronic media revolution, when we see and hear about death all the time, the death of a near one makes us realize that it would happen to all of us. How, when and where only the almighty knows but it will come for sure.
An inner voice though shook me back out of my trance – speaking in a sort of hushed voice: don’t fall to the negative thoughts. Death may be inevitable, but the life before it is too precious to let go off.
The end would come when it has to, but let me live every moment until then. The gloom would pass, I am in peace with the thought that my grandfather lived his life like he wanted to. The end came but it wasn’t painful to him. That is what matters.
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