“It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live.”
Marcus Aurelius, Meditations
Mum (clearing tears off of her weeping eyes): It was slow and utterly painful death for her. I wish nobody has to go through such ordeals in their life.
Grandma (staring at a lifeless body of her sister): Someday, it will be my turn. **Sobs uncontrollably **
[ Evidently naked. Magnified. All I see is an unfathomable love, the pain and the emptiness. I can also feel fear, as i sat beside her, holding her cold, wrinkled, soft hands. ]
Uncle: This is life. ~Breathes deeply~
Dad: Silent. Unmoving, mostly. Perhaps contemplating life & death in his own head.
[ Hard to tell ]
Sriraj (Baini maa’s grand child): Quiet. Present. Hurt. Loved. Unloved.
At Pashupati temple (A holy place for all the hindus in Nepal. Also, a well-renowned crematory site situated at Kathmandu). I watched. Listened. Existed, deliberately!
I see — honest tears! Torn hearts! Fucking pretentious despair too.
Tired. Despite, tried self-reflection; at accounts and inventories of my own life. Of people I consider my own.
Bahini maa (Grandma’s sister) passed away today around 3AM in the morning.
She died of cancer.
And, of all the many reasons, my heart wanted to blame it for her smoking habit.
[ I would never know ]
Two things.
First. Not that I smoke but I promised mum and dad infront of Baini maa’s burning self that no matter what, I’ll never, NEVER do cigarettes!
Second. I promised myself, … again, … that I’ll not take anything, anyday, anyone for granted, not even myself!
p.s. Lastly, I will forever have an enormous gratitude and respect for ‘Sirraj’s’ applaudable hard work, contribution and heart and companionship and patience to be with Baini maa foot-on-foot, in her final days. Not days actually, but years and years.
Whence, learned pure form of selflessness from him.
p.p.s. Ironically, [In the memory of Baini maa ]
Mementomori.