Monday Musings: The sundry matter of our end.
The matter of our end and the manner in which it shall come is the realm of philosophising at best and religiosity at worst. These days it is a matter unattended by both – because philosophising is a lost art and religion is about staying alive; God is just a means for such an extension of life.
The WHEN
I have always wondered at what precise point each one of us will recognise our essential mortality – that we are meant to wither away, as bodies and as memories. I have always wondered at what precise point each one of us will come face to face with the prospect of our end - dying at worst and atrophying at best.
Each one us will have his/her own story, with its own trigger. I wonder about the stories of great men and women who have walked on the face of this earth, the thinkers and the doers, who have arguably and beyond doubt made a ‘dent in the universe’ – and I wonder about them; and I wonder as to when was it that they came face to face with the question of their end. Did they achieve greatness before or after this thought occurred to them that their time is limited here? Did they go about nourishing their greatness oblivious to the thought of being dead or did they increase their efforts and passion towards making this world a better place before their time was up. I wonder.
The HOW
I wonder what would have made us come face to face to this question. Will it be witnessing death, injury and sickness. Some would see personal tragedies up close and personal and some would hear about it. Some would see their own sugar levels soaring, lipid levels going berserk and blood pressure becoming uncivilised.
I wonder if all of us see that mortality is as ubiquitous as air – unseen yet there. It around every corner we turn, its at the end of every breath we take. I wonder if the act of living is a delusion, a mass delusion at that, a myth humanity has built, cascaded and reinforced because it keeps the pretence of living easy. It keeps the engines purring as they say!
I wonder how others deal with the essential contradiction between the delusion of life and the certainty of its end. May be it is easier for the saints, the philosophers and the wise. I wonder how it is for those who have EMIs, jobs, reviews, stakeholders, appraisals and the notion of pay checks. I wonder about those who realise the essential ephemerality and those who don’t.
The THEREAFTER.
I wonder about what people do when they recognise the fickleness of it all – the fickleness of the strength of the bones and muscles, the fickleness of their ability to walk, breathe, and eat; the fickleness of speech, hearing and thinking – the essential release that words give to the burden of emotions as they get spoken about.
I wonder if we have even the slightest clue about the unimaginable burden of a heart which cannot speak what its heart swells with and the unimaginable grief of the limbs which cannot carry the burden of your everyday actions as the mind wishes. I wonder about what people do when they do come face to face to all of this.
I wonder about those who struggle to come to terms with it and I wonder about those who carry on with grace and courage. I wonder about the grammar of courage itself in the face of decay and death and what makes some courageous enough to look squarely in the eyes of the impending end without even an hint of remorse or regret – and I wonder if there is a soul at all who can do it.
I know everyone shall eventually come face to face with this question. That day there won’t be ready answers, academic answers, or answers that have been bequeathed to us – that day, perhaps the only day when we shall have ‘our individual answer’. Education, erudition and sophistication will matter little on that day. I wonder what is mine.
The burden of life’s end shall be borne lightly only by those who have taken the privilege of living itself lightly. For the rest of us – I guess it’s a tough transition.
Guru
www.gurucharangandhi.com|| www.mondaymusingsbyguru.blogpsot.com ||
@musingsbyguru
The matter of our end and the manner in which it shall come is the realm of philosophising at best and religiosity at worst. These days it is a matter unattended by both – because philosophising is a lost art and religion is about staying alive; God is just a means for such an extension of life.
The WHEN
I have always wondered at what precise point each one of us will recognise our essential mortality – that we are meant to wither away, as bodies and as memories. I have always wondered at what precise point each one of us will come face to face with the prospect of our end - dying at worst and atrophying at best.
Each one us will have his/her own story, with its own trigger. I wonder about the stories of great men and women who have walked on the face of this earth, the thinkers and the doers, who have arguably and beyond doubt made a ‘dent in the universe’ – and I wonder about them; and I wonder as to when was it that they came face to face with the question of their end. Did they achieve greatness before or after this thought occurred to them that their time is limited here? Did they go about nourishing their greatness oblivious to the thought of being dead or did they increase their efforts and passion towards making this world a better place before their time was up. I wonder.
The HOW
I wonder what would have made us come face to face to this question. Will it be witnessing death, injury and sickness. Some would see personal tragedies up close and personal and some would hear about it. Some would see their own sugar levels soaring, lipid levels going berserk and blood pressure becoming uncivilised.
I wonder if all of us see that mortality is as ubiquitous as air – unseen yet there. It around every corner we turn, its at the end of every breath we take. I wonder if the act of living is a delusion, a mass delusion at that, a myth humanity has built, cascaded and reinforced because it keeps the pretence of living easy. It keeps the engines purring as they say!
I wonder how others deal with the essential contradiction between the delusion of life and the certainty of its end. May be it is easier for the saints, the philosophers and the wise. I wonder how it is for those who have EMIs, jobs, reviews, stakeholders, appraisals and the notion of pay checks. I wonder about those who realise the essential ephemerality and those who don’t.
The THEREAFTER.
I wonder about what people do when they recognise the fickleness of it all – the fickleness of the strength of the bones and muscles, the fickleness of their ability to walk, breathe, and eat; the fickleness of speech, hearing and thinking – the essential release that words give to the burden of emotions as they get spoken about.
I wonder if we have even the slightest clue about the unimaginable burden of a heart which cannot speak what its heart swells with and the unimaginable grief of the limbs which cannot carry the burden of your everyday actions as the mind wishes. I wonder about what people do when they do come face to face to all of this.
I wonder about those who struggle to come to terms with it and I wonder about those who carry on with grace and courage. I wonder about the grammar of courage itself in the face of decay and death and what makes some courageous enough to look squarely in the eyes of the impending end without even an hint of remorse or regret – and I wonder if there is a soul at all who can do it.
I know everyone shall eventually come face to face with this question. That day there won’t be ready answers, academic answers, or answers that have been bequeathed to us – that day, perhaps the only day when we shall have ‘our individual answer’. Education, erudition and sophistication will matter little on that day. I wonder what is mine.
The burden of life’s end shall be borne lightly only by those who have taken the privilege of living itself lightly. For the rest of us – I guess it’s a tough transition.
Guru
www.gurucharangandhi.com|| www.mondaymusingsbyguru.blogpsot.com ||
@musingsbyguru
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