The Blur

At this hour of the night, my senses fail me but still, a strange chill runs down my spine as I prepare to write. That's because I am writing about something I always have had a fascination for. Yes, it's death.

They say, the only truth in life probably is death. It puts a full stop to everything that's good and everything that's bad. To be fair, it puts a full stop to everything in life. And that's fascinating.

It always left me bewildered when I attempted to know what death feels like. Is it just the biological end?

I always wanted to find out what runs through a human mind when he realises he would not be living again. What does that mean to him? How does his mind react to this condition? When someone breathes his last, what are the very last moments like? Are they like scarily dark? Or are they bathed in a heavenly brightness? Does he go through a phase of transition after that? Like going into another life, another life form may be.

Getting into a dying man's mind may just be impossible but I always wondered how he feels upon realising that from here on, he would never get to see his dear ones. May be they would live on without missing him as time moves on. All that he called "mine" during his lifetime will no longer be his. Does he feel detached or does he feel even more attached to everything that's earthly.

I don't have any answer for my questions. I am not sure if someone else can provide me with one. It's then this strong fascination for death grips me. Sometimes I want to know how it feels to go through extreme pain which threatens to end your life. Sometimes I want to endure such pain too.

I know someone who finds death fascinating might just sound suicidal. When a very dear friend recently found it out, she was quick to admonish me saying: Just live life.

I will live life like she says. But I guess, I want to live death too and feel the blur that divides them. May be for a moment.

In Tushar Roy's words:

Often I feel a strong sense of void,
It stays on all day long and stirs up anger within.
I feel cheated by Death
Who promised to come back quick
Before he had left down the winding alley.
I keep waiting under the umbrella he left for me
And watch the slowly declining days.
I know for certain
That not long he will take to return,
And will be back in the dead of night, I fear,
When I will remain lost in a cover of sleep......