Fires warm your nights at the cost of burning you. Sometimes I wonder if that is how everything good in the world works. Do good things really come with a price? Or, is the pain just about the guilt and shame that comes with having better than others?
Some storms don’t come to kill you; but if they don’t kill you, do they always make you stronger? Do storms also feel proud to have killed more people than the others? Why do we wear our traumas as a badge of honor? Is that why we fear good healers? Have we really begun to identify ourselves through the scars we wear on our skins?
Strange world, isn’t it?
People lose their lives to death. People lose their loved ones to death. Some people lose their smiles to death. Or, has it always been the other way around? What if it was life fighting to keep its best soldiers alive? What if we are the delusional ones who mindlessly gravitate towards our own ends?
I recently lost my Nanaji (That’s the Hindi word used to address your mother’s father). This was my first time processing death so closely. The experience has left me wondering why people tend to hate their lives so much. I mean, life doesn’t end until it ends. You have the world waiting for you while you are still breathing. Every moment is a new opportunity and every person brings along a new kind of love, yet we toss our lives into a can of garbage just because there aren’t people around us who chant our greatness each day.
I doubt if the great ever cared about the applause roaring around them. In fact, I believe, it is truly their nonchalance for the praises that makes them even worthier of celebration. That is the kind of man my Nanaji was. Subtle, humble, elegant, yet confident, wise, and full of life. He taught me how you don’t have to beat yourself down to have a bigger heart. Sadly, the lesson truly struck me after I lost him. I will miss him… forever. He was my guiding light in life… my biggest motivation to go out there and achieve every big thing… he was and he will always be! I miss you Naanu.