Death blues

I think of death often; as often as I think of life. But visuals of laying in blood clots during transition never occurred as much as it did in recent times. I visualize my dead body beside a highway - road accident perhaps; being dragged out from a dented vehicle and laying down with few others or not was my dread dream for long. Or will I comprise bullet wounds followed by sharp cuts all over the body? Likely my body, me within or not, would pass few hours in morgue before getting into a casket. In next life may be my blood will be white and the cover will be dead-red; contrary to what is in this life.

I was 11 once as everyone was or will be. While heading towards Khagrachari from Chittagong, our convoy was halted in Guimara as there was a gunbattle between the army and tribal guerrillas. An overenthusiastic showed me bullet wounded and mortar hit bodies of both parties. I asked why they battle. No apt answer I got; perhaps they died for no reason other than grabbing sleep of a kid for few weeks.

Days at Shahid Moinul road in Dhaka and Bawanis in Jossor cantonment have enormous impact on me. If I am asked to choose a life after death; I would want to go back to those days without blink of an eye. Not because of the careless days I passed in these two places but because people around me in those periods are the people I want to spend most of my time with.

Choto Mama - Lt. Col Azim died all of a sudden and put me in a state of shock. I was holding his head on the ambulance while taking him to hospital for the last time; little that I knew it was his last time. I in fact never comprehended someone close of my heart could die so abruptly. Following day, I wanted to hold his khatia to the Mashjid and to the grave; I tried and tried but could not cope up with the flow as I had a fractured leg. Then Boro Chacha died, Shah Khalu died, Boro Khalu died, my soul mate Anayet died. I learnt deaths can mature people though it does not open a different door, it is not even a diminishing state.

I know for a fact that I inspire people and have impact on many. There are many great souls having huge impact on me as well – purportedly that’s natural. I regret deeply I did not acknowledge them when I had a chance. Now it is too late.

I never lie to my son; I do not give him false promise. I want to keep it that way as long as I stay in this side. His arrival made me a better person. I said to myself in April 2006 – I will not do, say anything that I cannot share with my son. This cushy promise brought me a whole new world.

The world will end or I will end, one earlier, one afterwards, or both at an identical time. Destination is locked, it has always been. The journey matters; not destination. I lived beneath day and night but there were radiance, sparkle and flicker, if not the sun itself, even in nights. My journey has been entrancing; I lived on my spirit.

If you visit me when I am silent, don’t bring me flowers; come with an enlightened soul or do not come at all.


Anonymous said…
Nice, Your writings remind me an Elegy of Thomas Gray's "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard"......
Your command over English language is superb. Very few Bengalis can match. Keep it up.

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