Just b-e-l-i-e-v-e!

He looks into the mirror again. He scans every change minutely. He looks at the white strands of his hairs, loosened skin and his eyes. The color of his eyes was changing continuously over past years. It had changed from brown to a light blue color : that of the sky. Looking himself at so close was surreal. Like he met somebody else in the mirror. Somebody who has faced depression to the extent of killing himself in his every thought. That somebody in the mirror cherished the thought of suicide as if it was the only decision one could take freely for one's life. But he did not die. Death is not always an easy choice. January has passed away. Giving way to a hope that new colors will arrive soon and paint our blank eyes. The color of his eyes are changing constantly. His biggest fear now is Death. Which would rather come slowly, making him realize the different shades of the color, life is.

 Death is not a calamity. Not if you have lived your life to the fullest. Death of your close ones is not a tragedy, if you have expressed your love to them, given them true happiness, and if you know they will be more happy in that Other World.  Why Am I thinking about death so intensely?  Its been three days, and I have seen four people died. Most of us are shocked by the news of an accident in which one of our known couple died with the grandfather leaving a huge business and two children behind them. I am generally not moved by any such news. Ultimately , those who left, left for something good. But this time, what about the children? The son who is in 10th std is my brother's friend. And when I asked my brother , what do you think about this whole accident, he somberly replied, ' never fight with your parents.' Losing one's parents at an early age is an unfathomable loss.  I were not more thoughtful about it but there are surprising things goin...

I dont know I should write it or no.And I dont know whether I will be to able to convey my emotions honestly and objectively. But all I know is, that I need to write it. I just read Shannon Hayes's article "Saying goodbye : What do we teach kids about death ? ", which begins with the words - " My grandfather is dying." And I felt goose bump in my stomach. My grandfather is also dying. But unlike her , I am far away from him. Unlike her , I don't feel much for him. Unlike her , I don't feel it... feel it deeply. Perhaps it is because I am five hundred miles away from him or I am not sure , if I would have felt same , were I near  him at his bedside. Perhaps , it doesn't move me because he is old and I want his sufferings to end. Or perhaps it is just a poor ingenuine excuse. I feel ashamed and at the same time I know number of my relatives who come to visit him daily , feel the same thing , perhaps more cruelly than me.  In her article , Shannon Ha...