The night was blue, not because of hard day at work, not because those stupid Indian soaps that were pissing me off and not even after an argument with Object. Nothing managed to shake off a thought of a dear friend so close to loosing a loved one. I kept thinking how he must have been sitting on that orange chair recalling every sweet moment that he spent with his loved one his entire life. Slumber somehow caught up to me until my phone rang in the middle of the night, which I wish, was a bad dream but it wasn’t.
The morning was gloomy, everything felt worthless. I started to recall the marriage proposal I witnessed last evening, I remember feeling so happy for the couple and until last evening I was only imagining how beautiful it is to be able to commit to someone for rest of your life. But this morning “rest of your life” didn’t seem enough. How limited is this lifetime?
I was terrified. It wasn’t just feeling for a friend anymore at the funeral. Now is when my selfish instincts started kicking in. I pictured myself standing at his position, I was stunned, and I kept asking myself if I could ever have courage to face this? How much of my parent’s life have I missed already and how much more is left for me to catch on to? Would I ever be able to collect more memories? And if I do, wouldn’t it make it more difficult? Should I be worried about how difficult it would be for me to part or should I be worried about providing whatever it is that I can to my loved ones before its time so there are less regrets? I look up again and this time there’s a kid playing with the puddle of mud on the side unaware of what is happening around him. I wanted to be that kid!
The morning was gloomy, everything felt worthless. I started to recall the marriage proposal I witnessed last evening, I remember feeling so happy for the couple and until last evening I was only imagining how beautiful it is to be able to commit to someone for rest of your life. But this morning “rest of your life” didn’t seem enough. How limited is this lifetime?
I was terrified. It wasn’t just feeling for a friend anymore at the funeral. Now is when my selfish instincts started kicking in. I pictured myself standing at his position, I was stunned, and I kept asking myself if I could ever have courage to face this? How much of my parent’s life have I missed already and how much more is left for me to catch on to? Would I ever be able to collect more memories? And if I do, wouldn’t it make it more difficult? Should I be worried about how difficult it would be for me to part or should I be worried about providing whatever it is that I can to my loved ones before its time so there are less regrets? I look up again and this time there’s a kid playing with the puddle of mud on the side unaware of what is happening around him. I wanted to be that kid!
2 comments:
You know, I had developed a strategy based on a business strategy class I was taking (still taking) when my dad passed away.
At the highest level of my thinking, where the decisions are made and where the CEO of decision making sits in my head, I had placed an order: An incredibly hard scenario I had imagined. I had it pictured in my mind, that this day is inevitable. It will come. How will I handle it? I gave my self guidelines. There is plenty of time to reflect in the gravest manner later, but I must remain intimate yet aggressive in controlling myself. I must determine how to perform the last rites, what to do about what, how to deal with paper work and what not.
This philosophy of imaging and projecting future events, and planning for them (no matter how awful the scenario was) really helps. Have an on edge mindset in matters of life. It will help and it will help heal...
It is all in the mind Amin.
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