Last
morning, my room was dark. The lines of straws in between my window curtain let
the sun rays cut the darkness. The curtain was in my favour. Previous night I
was depressed; depressed for no reason; reason was there for me, but it would
not a worthy one to get depressed for whom if any listens it. Only I knew the
reason and I never wanted to share it, if I share, it will be nothing less than
a suicide; worse, suicide ends everything; here I will have to live as dead. I
got off my bed and made a cup of tea. It didn’t help at all; I left home.
A
glance of a cemetery struck my eyes while my vehicle got a block at traffic. I
saw the sleep beds of zapped lives; mounted crosses; names written; stamping
that they lived; and now died. The crosses were dug on their heads. They are
warned not to get up and leave the place. They were offered a few tears and
garlands once in a while. Some dead flowers were gifted to them often. Among
them also, some are forgotten forever. But they never complained or they knew
none will listen to them, if they want to express their grief. Here they had no
choice to choose their bed partner or a neighbor; they have no more choices. The
couples were never given a single bed; because we assume they will never make
love again. On their wedding we gave a single bouquet, when dead we decided
they are separated and we give them two. They are offered, without asking them
what exactly they need. The things they loved most in their life are now
considered no more necessary and they can never ask. They are now dead.
The
mass got over. Some came out of church with some flowers and tears. I know
where they will now move to. I felt bad. If I could find someone carrying a
bottle of wine or cigarette; or atleast a piece of grilled chicken to the
cemetery without prejudging that the dead will not take it. Irreversible! To
get what I love after death, I should start loving tears and flowers now
itself.
I
got back my room. Thought of having lunch, I stepped out to Vasco-da-Gama
streets. On the way, I couldn’t find anyone giving flower to any; no one
dropped a single tear for any. World have its own rules, strategies,
traditions, trends. I stopped in front of The HQ, a star hotel. Why not a lunch
here? Will I get privacy? How will the staffs treat me? Will they give me a
flower along? No. They will treat me as a guest and I will not get privacy.
Neither will they give me a flower. My head got down, I walked further. Then I
knew where I should go.
I
confess, for loving those things in this life which will be forbidden after
death. I feed myself, like every one, everything which I need to live. Am no
different from any, achieve and achieve; an every moment repetition. But a
glance of the dead crowd made me think different. They also lived the way we
live now. One thing they all missed out; they never bought or gifted a flower
to themselves. Whatever they made habit of gifting self and staying happy is
forgotten with their death. Then they receive what others chose to present. And
others, like us, never had a second thought of what was his favorite gift, but
always gifted a flower. May be that is why left to church is cemetery and to
right is a flower shop.
One
day I will also die. I don’t know how I will accept if someone gifts me a rose.
I also shouldn’t expect any other gift. But I know whether am dead or alive, I
need to be happy. I have to be happy for every tear and flower. I have to make
habit of it before I die. By the time of death, my priorities must change. To
stay happy forever, my priorities must be a flower or tear. I also may be forgotten!
I do not want that, and for that I love people unconditionally though having a very
small condition to visit me sometimes. I guess they will love me back even
after my death. They will gift me flowers, and I will be happy. Death is
inevitable, any time it can happen, without a clue. So soon I have to make the
habit. Today I will gift a flower to myself. I will pretend happiness; I will
make it a routine, till it becomes my habit; till I find real happiness. Then I
will die. I will wait for a mass; I will wait for flowers and garlands. I will
smile and I will stay happy after life; after death; till the last person who
know me; till his last flower.
I
can never be depressed. I change myself for the way you need. Previous night I was
depressed with a reason and the reason was why should I live if the death is
what is left to meet with at last.
