I think I am going to die.
I know, all of us are going to die at some point in our lives. Some sooner than later and I am no exception but sitting here today on this hot summer evening I can’t shake of this feeling that I am going to die real soon.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not sad or anything. Nothing more than the usual hormone induced ups and downs but still I feel like changing so much in my life so suddenly, I feel like leaping at every opportunity with such impulse that after I have made the move I begin to wonder what is wrong with me. Why am I behaving like this, or are these things are never going to happen again.
They say people come to know at an unconscious level when they are going to die. They start to wrap up things, take time for things they usually leave for later etc. Months before I lost my father to a sudden lung infection, he would often insist that I stay home from college and spend the day with him , which was very unlike him and during those father-daughter bonding days, he would leisurely tell me what his life was like, a subject that was of endless interest to me. Just wanting to know how he thought, felt, behaved and what made him make the decisions and choices that have literally culminated into the present moment would have all my attention captured. There were some stories he told often like how he married my mother but each time he told the story there was some new piece that would emerge afresh and thrill me. I devoured each and every word of his and his expressions are so vivid in my head.
Many months later after his passing, when the cloud of grief began to lift these things would choke me up. They way I got to know him in those last few months, I never had before. But it was such a chance event. Why did he insist on doing that? Maybe, just maybe he knew.
Is this how he must have felt?
Like life was too short, and the things that are to be done too many.
The joys feel so intense, that sometimes the peace of coming back to my own apartment after a long day brings tears to my eyes.
The pain feels so absolute that every ache is distinct and sharp, yet covered with such a sense of numbness that nothing feels real. It is a film playing and I am watching it, engrossed, so engrossed that I have forgotten that at some point I have to return to my real life. My real life. What is my real life? Is it all this that is happening right now or is it something that is about to happen anytime now. I just have to wait. Be patient. Things will happen, beta. When the time is right. The time is now. The time is less. The time is over.
What starts when everything ends?
Will I hover and watch as tears will be shed in my name?
Will I feel light that it is all over, the relief of being out of the rat race?
Will I feel heavy with all the chances I was too afraid to take? Stupid, timid me, always imagining the worst. Always expecting to fall, fail, fizzle. Play safe. Don’t lose, don’t go all in. Never go all in. Keep a secret stash. Never reveal your secret. Secrets. Take them to the grave.
Walk yourself proudly to the grave. With a graceful smile.