Sometimes I wonder what I should write next. What it is that one would like. Some want to hear about love. And some, make fun of it. Some search for depth in every word. Whereas some, ignore the buried meaning or maybe fear the harshness of it. Because it’s frightening. Uncertain. unknown. Like death.
They want to read tales of life. Life, they consider, the source of light. And death, darkness. Is life truly so full of light? Life – that is often ended by hate, for hate. Why? Because honor, class, religion, caste – they outdo the beauty of love. And then, as you close your eyes to life, you seek solace in death. Why? Because the brightness of life has failed you. You wonder if that mate- your soul yearns for – is awaiting you on the other side. Isn’t death dark anymore? Why not?
Because your perception of light and dark is wrong. We link hope with light and grief with dark. And so we’ve immense expectation from life. But when they aren’t met, we turn to death. Then again, if we’re scared of death, we turn to life. We accept neither.
As long as life’s paths are luminous, your notion of it is not shaken. One sudden turn – dark and ominous – and you find an escape in death. Life isn’t full of light. Neither is death as dark as you vision it. It’s a cycle – simple to understand, also difficult to take in. Let it be. Will you?
Sometimes I wonder what I should write next. What it is one would like.
Written by Chirasree Bose