Death is a truth of life. A truth, which we condition ourselves to ignore and live in a cave where death is hidden and forgotten in some dark dusty corner.Hearing about someone’s death makes us sad not only for the loss but also because that dark dusty corner of the cave is lightened up if only for a second.
The fragility of life is underlined by the untimely death of people around us. While things are too random around us, we should take decisions that avoid death and its relatives.
I did not know him, he was a friend of friend.
About a week back at a hotel I was staying in, I noticed a grasshopper which was walked over. It made me ponder over death for a while. This random shit was generated out of that.
Death does not make any sense. But not everything has to have sense. It is all chaos and we try to find order in it. Become happy when we find a pattern or two. Or find some pattern followers. Or become one of them. But chaos rules any-day.
Have you noticed the path smoke takes?
Fluid. Against the gravity, with a mind of its own. A trail that is untraceable by all but smoke from the same source. It follows a pattern but hidden in that is chaos. Particles collide against each other every second when each of them tries to move. You still do not believe in chaos hypothesis of mine?
Out of Petabytes of data on the internet you chose to come here somehow to read this. Just imagine what might you be doing now if you were not reading this line.
Viewing cat images? Watching some video on youtube? Shopping for festivals? Deleting your history? Picking your nose?Push-ups? Anything and everything. It is next to incomprehension.
Every second you have got unlimited choices to make. You do make one of them : something happens and then you again respond to it and again something happens. Each decision you make takes you down a tree where each level offers you roughly as many options as the previous one, except in one case. And each of those decision creates innumerable changes in what you will experience down the time. Not picking up the phone will be very different than picking it up. Even picking it up the second time will be different than picking it up when the first time because time passed, t=0s is t=5s now.
Time went out the window. So U N R E A L.
You can not climb up the tree. Only traverse down and make choices.
And even when you are not making a choice, you are making a choice.
You are an agent of chaos. With each decision you are creating more randomness in the universe and place around you. Each move casting a spell of chaos!
The only one case when your options are not same as the previous one is Death.
Chaos for you ends because you end. But in that termination too you create enough chaos for others.
Life is like a buggy Depth First Search code which throws null pointer exception at run time when it encounters death. No, its Depth-only-search where the search logic is random at each node and it is terminated at death.
Still, life is too random. That’s why intelligent people try to make sense of it by connecting the dots backward while they are alive.
Because sense doesn’t make any sense for you when you are dead.
Another Agent of Chaos.
The Dead Grasshopper
Its intestine visibly out
Against its will.
Squashed by some boot
In a hastened drill.
So quick and muted
No one noticed its shrill.
How much I have wanted to appear
Though that version did not exist
Like one of the words above.
I fooled them
Those well timed pauses
Those smart-phone gazes
Those hand gestures and big words
Those combed and neatly parted hair
Gelled with precision.
You looked at it
You looked through it
Directly into my eyes
Passage to the soul they say
Brief contact of bareness
As if naked souls
I closed the only pass
Timings are important
Even when its someones soul.
That brief exchange
And I lusted for more.
It was new thing to do
Adventurous than appearing anything
Then it became a ritual
A purifying one
Looking into each others soul
Gaze strongly as possible
It sanitized everything
Evaporating the cosmetic
And be what we were
Your eyes gazed coldly
Like the temperature of the morgue
You were lying in.
Today they looked emptyly
Even if nothing like that exists
I was not scared
I have never been of you
Except the first day
When I closed my eyelids
Today I close yours.
I dislike the vulgarly blaring loudspeakers
I hate the honks of trucks and cars make in the jam
I hate noise in general.
I am scared of silence.
Noise crisscrosses the temporary and cancels.
Silence adds up the past, the permanent
Becomes heavy :
Defects damages and deaths…
Then silence becomes visible and grueling to tolerate.
The cacophony is too clear to avoid
Harsher than noise of vulgar loudspeakers.
Shriller than the honks.
In noise things are lost,
We hear a lot but listen nothing.
We hear nothing but listen a lot
And listening to silence is deafening.