Life, death and everything else ...

I miss him a lot. Every night I dream of having a conversation with him. Every morning, I wake up thinking; if only he was here … It was on the dawn of 31 August – this year. The living world changed on me. The amount of pure, unconditional love I got from the living world less than halved in a moment. I wake up in the middle of the night – screaming, sweating, shouting the question, “why?” Why did this need to happen. It was a happy world – full of love – full of unconditional and pure love.

A lot has happened this year. People who loved me – four of them departed, one by one in a span of 3 months. The year was horrible. When you are going through this shit, you pinch yourself and ask, “Is this real?” Sadly the answer is always, yes – this is life.

Never has my pursuit of the answer for what happens after life, or after death, been of greater significance. I had a theory long back – a result of probably a collection of some shallow thought on my part, and a set of stories from I gathered this theory.

Am I in a dream, or am I the dream? The concept of illusion or Maya might sound fatalistic – but I don’t have an alternative to that theory to explain why such things happen. Dream is the reality and reality is the dream. What is real, in my humble opinion, in this dream, is the love. Love is real and this is something I have learnt over the years.

Love stretches beyond dreams, nights and days. In the year of sadness, I also experienced love of some great people. I can still feel the intensity of the love of my father. I can see him smile at me, walk with me and speak to me. I can hear his voice, I can hear him sing and I can feel his hug. That’s what comes from pure unconditional love. But, the amount of pure, unconditional love I received from the living world, dwindled, folded and dwarfed into a tiny fraction of its original measure before that fateful day.

These incidents of the year have opened a can of questions. The questions come hurling at me at amazing pace every day and night. Some are tough questions I have not thought about … some are the same old questions that have suddenly become important again. Some are plain thoughts hurling past me … And I want to be aware - aware of the thoughts, questions and the love.