|When I woke up one fine day, I felt something unusual. I felt something heavy in my chest. Not in poetic way. I felt it, literally. I was scared to infinity, upon the realization that the heavy feeling is actually a lump in my chest. Concluding from whatever little medical knowledge I had, I suspected it to be cancer. I was choked, numb and scared to infinity. For whole day, I was dwelling with the dreadful thoughts. I googled, read medical books, magazines, did everything possible that could discard that fear of having cancer. When I went to my bed, I curled up and cried like a child no! no! no! God! please cancer nhi, cancer nhi. I had whirlpool of thoughts and fear erupting inside me. I had all the frightening and weird imaginations one could have about his death. Reckoning the days left in your life, a flashback comes rushing in, thats what we call, life you lived. Time in this world is limited, and eventually all of us will end up underneath some white sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise. Its true, I am afraid of dying. I am afraid of the world moving forward without me, of my absence going unnoticed, or worse, not being the reason of someones smile. Is it selfish? Dad always said everyone must leave something behind when he dies. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a garden planted or anything. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, youre there. I fear oblivion, but when I thought if I die tomorrow or in near future, what justice have I done to my existence? I never affected a life. I never changed something. I never made anything which will live even after my death. Definitely my grades and achievements wont. Ill become a distant memory and a vague face to even closest of my friends. Just then I realized, I have done nothing worthy in my life. This is my last resort for redemption. Whatever 30 40 50 years, minutes or seconds left, is my last chance to live. I dont want to be on my death bed and feel the same way again. Until I feared I would lose it I never really loved it. The next day I went for tests and it was benign cyst. I didnt have cancer but, what if it were really cancer ?? What if I would have died without contributing my part to the world ??
Posted on: Sun, 16 Nov 2014 05:52:54 +0000
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