When death screws life

Posted: April 17, 2013 in Life, Personal
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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I write pain. Does that mean, I am a sad soul?

Life is a tragedy. I have said it so many times, that tragedy knows me now. If I stop thinking about it, it doesn’t become less justified. The fact remains. The truth stands.

Today, I listened to a story so tragic I wish I didn’t have the power to empathize. I listened to death. Believe me – His voice is shaky, dark, dreadful and unforgiving.

Two people. Mad in love. One is taken. In a poof. One survives. While death, void of emotions, watched her weep.

I see the survivor every day. Her face talks death. I know those smiles are fake. I know that ecstasy is compelled through prolonged weariness. I know the happiness on the face of my survivor has nothing to do with this mundane earth. Yet my survivor is always there, making the world happy, making the world a better place to live in and making amends to this pointless life.

Have you ever witnessed an accident? Have you ever been a part of it? She witnessed an accident so tragic it makes my heart weep. I can’t imagine the horror she had to go through. Walls of the car painted red. Limbs cut. What not.

She watched ‘him’ go. In seconds. Poof! Just like that. He was there with her a minute ago laughing and having fun. She was having the time of her life with her to-be-soulmate. But fate had other plans for her. I have never really liked fate. That dumb old bastard! I have never really liked death as well. He screws life.

I have observed. Her face always wears a smile. She hides her emotions so well! People get duped all the time. But now I know. Now her eyes tell a different story to me. She is scared of this world. She is scared of accidents. She is scared of death. Yet she is brave like a lion. Funny like a clown. Lovely like a rose though living like a zombie. There is tragedy, right there. Sitting silently in the corner, her eyes full of tears.

I don’t know how I would have taken it. I whine at a mere heart-break. She just watched him leave this world. My angst feels so trivial now. She watched him leave her alone, involuntarily. He wished to stay. They were meant to be together. They could have had a great life. This happy-ending leaflet was simply plucked out. At least, I found out what happened to my relationship. She never even got the chance.

Death is a tragedy. So is living, after you have seen death.

I picture the hurt. I empathize for people. I make it mine. I will write for them. If they have words, I know how to put them on a paper. If they wish to be heard, I will listen. If possible I might alleviate them. If not then I will cry with them.

Yes! I am a sad soul. I am an emotional wreck. I feel for the suffering out there. Gazillions of dusky souls with their zillions of problems. I wish to write, if not to them, then for them.

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