The Beginning of Bereavement..

What it was like to feel death...

'Twas a murderous silence. A perfect silence inside of me.. I could not arrive at a conclusion as to why this had happened to me. Neither do i know of its origin or its means. I simply gave it to time.May be because this was the first departure in my life. An everlasting one. A real one.

                                I was on stage to speak about a person who lived and is no more.. I was about to describe the goodness of somebody who was nothing but a vegetable then, embellished in a coffin, so preserved so as to let 'it' stay afresh till the arrival of a few others of her blood.I could see the dismal faces of her children and her grand children.Many addressed before me and few others after. But this difficulty in verbalizing my thoughts, i felt...

                                A deficiency that filled my heart the moment i kissed her,as a final ritual.A lively sense spilled over a cold, lifeless body. Like a painting that recogniseth not the touch of a brush and the absence of apprehension of the picturisation it is being subjected to. She felt not the kiss or the grasp of the hands. Faithfully, she does not know she is no more. Last time i met my granny, she smiled. This time too, but virtually.

                               Death,i realised. Tears rushed through it's regular outlet almost unexpectedly and spontaneously. The feeling, at the sight of other's tears turned into a different one almost suddenly. A sudden, harsh blow-like feeling. Actual sensations departed. I turned to see the one who bore me banging against the wall and crying. I looked in front of me when mine lays in front of me and my reaction..an imagination,  all in a couple of seconds till when this ephemera was outcast by the euphemism of doing the final rituals.....

                                These train of thoughts recoiled at the sight of the many eyes looking at me. Understanding my position, pushed to travesty, along with the responsibility of my own final ritual, stood there i, with a deep sense of loneliness.. A desolation, appallingly felt. An untold misery. First ever felt bereavement. Abstract. I started with a simple respect and moved onto the elucidation which every soul in the crowd already knew. I tried to abbreviate but in vain.

                                Confounded. Overwhelming emotions fuddled quite a few sentences. Stumbling words at my side. Yet, i cleared my throat to carry on. I looked up to see the strength of the mob. Surprisingly I couldn't see the last person. It is the outcome of the good deeds of my granny, i thought. My granny, she was always good to everyone at her doorstep. She has never said a "no" to any of the strangers. The very thought that she was dead, hovered over me. Who am i talking to? Why am i talking? What's the benefit? If the appreciation had reached her, I would have been likely to make her happy. But now, what's the use? Where is her life? Who will convey these to her? So many outbursts of feelings pondered. Although, I continued. I continued to complete. I pulled out the cellulose strip with a brief note from my slash pocket. Called out the rest of the statements and and left to my hole-in-the-wall. Trembling voice. Torn, sole, tissue wet after the wipe.

                                "Notorious" it became, the words of an eminent orator, who mentioned that it was the happiest day. The happiest because it did seek a fulfillment of the very purpose of a living and  a completion of the cycle. Though it may be appreciated as the wisest of all interpretations, this savvy thought, at that moment of time, when the first demise had taken place, was not appreciable. The eternal rest gave its additional impact after a few days, during the routine schedule, when turning to the expired, gave disappointment and once again, realization of  the disappeared.

                                Appreciation swells amidst dull emotions. All is vanity. Beauty sinks with the drown and materialistic possessions are not for the dead. Feelings die with the person. Death is the end. In this world, there is nothing to hold tightly or to gird around.One day death will come, my man! A sure happening. At that crack of the doom, you

will have nothing to carry with and a lot to leave behind. Think about it if you are wise, so says the King of Wisdom.

                                The darkest of all nights for me, doomsday, one of the travails of emotional life has come, i thought. It is unforgettable, not because she was the best, but she was the first. It did take days for me to come over it. Perhaps, it should. Because it was only the beginning of  bereavement...