We, The Living

"Nothing is more fatal to happiness than the remembrance of happiness" Sri Aurobindo.

Have you ever pondered on the fact that we often value the people who have made the most imperceptible but immeasurable contributions to our life, only after they have left us for good? Even in our sorrow we prove to be selfish. For what we moan is not their death, but what has died within us in their death.

The tendency of the human mind to believe in the everlastingness of those we take for granted or those who give without demanding, is the cause of abject misery when reality hits. If we are watchful, we will hear many regretful 'only ifs' I had been more caring, or more attentive, or more sensitive to the needs of that person who has embarked on the never-to -return journey. Albeit too late.

Life then takes on a note that sheds many a hidden tear, innumerable lonely nights, empty laughter, forlorn longings. And happiness the ever elusive, gets more elusive, by the minute.

Not only have we to learn that we are here as tenants in a tenement, but more urgently, that those we love are but travelers who have their own journey to fulfill and their shadow might fade into nothingness, as surreptitiously as time slips by.

If only the thought that precedes a harsh word or an indifferent shrug, is the reality that is staring us in our faces, that of the transience of all mankind. If impermanence cannot provide us reason enough to treasure our living and not their memories, nothing will.

Of what avail then is the heartrending eulogies, soul stirring epitaphs!! The one it was meant to give reassurance to is never going to look back. Of what use is it then to relieve ourselves of the guilt of neglect by public displays of grief. It will not serve to dry a single tear that oozes out of a heavy heart or provide solace in the regret that might plague our days and nights.

If loss be the teacher,what gain is it for us?

Death is inevitable and so is bereavement, with its darkness impenetrable to our imagination,choiceless in character. However what is within our ambit of choice is the unconditional love, caring, smiles and support we can offer to those who by their mere presence have lit it up our lives in more ways than one,to give it the dimension we enjoy, but rarely admit.

"The hardest of all is learning to be a well of affection, and not a fountain, to show them that we love them, not when we feel like it, but when they do"
Nan Fairbrother

Let us verbalise our love for them when they can hear it, enjoy it, and feel cherished. Let us give of ourselves, through our time, attention and nurturing. An impetuous hug, as if it were the last,a long cherished gift,a mirthful jig in free abandon, purposeless and innocent. If there is one area of life where stinginess of emotion is going to be cause for our misery, it is the holding back of affection for the irreplacable souls.

Death is unforgiving and unrelenting. Its finality, stark and true. Won't it be too late then?

cross posted at Desicritics