He is there down somewhere lonely, yet loneliness has not
enveloped his thoughts. He is surrounded by darkness all around him, yet fear has
failed to get the better of him. There is not even that tiny opening for him to
feel the energy of the Sun or the romanticism of the moon and yet he is not
feeling claustrophobic. He is not feeling helpless even though he can’t move an
inch. There is no light to keep him warm, no voice to keep him engrossed, no
air to keep him fresh and no water to keep him thirst free. But he does not
crave for warmth, he is not seeking a companion, he can’t feel any better and
he is not thirsty either. He is dead and buried in his grave. The soul has departed
but the body has been left behind in isolation. With time even that will cease
to exist but he was a character too. He had lived once and now he would live in
memories. Memories of his near and dear ones, if at all he had any or if any
one of those actually valued his presence.
He had just been buried a few days back and things are not
the same now. If for a moment some life
gets infused into his motionless ever decaying corpse, he would have been
shocked to see that people have moved on and he would realise that his
personality had only a momentary impact on other’s lives. It does not matter
how tall he is or how strong he is, he doesn’t quite have a towering presence now.
Till a a few days back, he used to draw gazes of young girls who couldn’t
hide their affection for the attractive young man. Now, his body is cold and the
skin has gone pale. Those girls have already found someone else to admire.
He might have been a very good man or perhaps, he was the
most corrupt. He was either an extrovert or preferred keeping to himself. He
was either famous or he was just a commoner. Nothing matters anymore. His good
deeds or his most horrible doings; none of these would count now or in the next
life, provided this re-birth theory has some credibility. He died young and
left behind so many unfulfilled dreams. The bird had just learnt how to soar
high but the flight ended abruptly because destiny acted otherwise. Such a
promising talent would never get the recognition it deserved. He could have given
so many moments of happiness to so many people. But those people are still
living oblivious to the loss of a promising life. I wonder WHO IS DEAD????
He
was buried by strangers who found him dead by riverside and under that bridge
whose architectural glory has now been overshadowed by the discussions about that unfortunate plunge
that the young man took. What drove him to do this??? We will never know. No
one has come to grieve at his grave; no one has come and put some lilies. I
wonder WHO IS DEAD????
He doesn’t have any epitaph to symbolise his existence
on this earth. No words could have done justice to a life so short and a life
that could have been wonderful. He has been perhaps forgotten already but it hardly matters to that heap of flesh that is lying down there. It doesn't get hurt or doesn't feel the pain any longer. The soul has left with all the feelings, leaving behind just mere evidence of his existence. Soon, the body will decay and get lost like his memories which are being wiped off by the tide of time and the very nature of mortal beings who are still moving above the ground. Life is just a journey from the womb of the mother to the womb of the mother earth. For all those youth who are not with us and who
have died having been deprived of love and care.
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