Reliving my thoughts as a young girl.....

Sunny, my kid brother, never ceases to amaze me. And then what amazes me some more is the fact that irrespective of our age difference and the different times that we have grown up in, we still think alike. I mean, what he thinks at his age now is exactly what I thought about in those times when I was about that age. Actually, a couple of years younger, but then, like they say, girls mature faster. And I have always had life giving me these huge lessons way too early. Be it a heart break or a jab of backstabs by your most trusted pal or betrayal or witnessing a divorce of a loved one and the painful repercussions thereof. Anyway, that’s not what I want to talk about here though it could make an interesting blog by itself. What made me sit up and write today is when I read Sunny’s blog about these books relating to death. It reminded me that I had also expressed similar views way back in 1991 when we had lost dolly’s daddy.

I mean, Sunny is more refined in his thoughts than I am, a lot more focused as a result. And what he has written about is a thought process triggered by certain books he read. And what prompted me to pen down my thoughts was a totally different experience I had had.
Dolly’s dad, my uncle – his death was so sudden and untimely. And I was just a naïve, young girl whose mind was yet un-corrupted by the realities of life. Dolly and I being of the same age and practically growing up together, I felt her pain. We had shared almost everything in life together but this was one thing that I couldn’t share with her however much I may try or want. And I hated to see her in such a situation so early in life. So I wrote my hurt out as was and still is my practice.

Having read Sunny’s blogs on this topic, I was reminded of my own thoughts. So I hunted for my old journals and finally found what I was looking for in an old note book.

Here, I am reproducing exactly what I had written as a 21 yr old. I do not relate to most of it anymore. What changes my thoughts have gone through may be the next blog but right now I think reliving my thoughts as a young girl makes for some interesting reading. So here it is….

Dated: - November 1991.

DEATH ……… it is, after all a matter-of-fact. All who have come to life will go one day or the other. It is an accepted fact and yet, when death strikes, it leaves back tears, grief, loneliness and a deep shadow of depression. It creates a vacuum, an hollow which cannot be filled in.
Death, a reality just like birth, though a law of nature is the most difficult to face and come to terms with.
But I ask why? Isn’t it destined at the very time of conception that the life which will see light in 9 months time will ultimately be taken over by death? Isn’t it true that death is inevitable…that everyone has to face it someday?
Then why does it hurt? Why does it bring tears and gloom with it? Why can we not bring ourselves to accept and accept it gracefully, that we have lost a dear one to death? That he is no more and no amount of tears or prayers or frustration is ever going to get him back for us? Why?
I wouldn’t want anyone to cry for me. I have never liked anyone ever crying for me in all these 21 years of my life. I have always hated sympathy and pity. To date, I have never asked nor expected sympathy from anybody or out of any relation.
Whatever will be, will be and there is nothing that tears can do to help. I can understand the grief and the pain, but what will the tears do? They can’t bring back the departed soul.

I HATE TEARS and I always will, especially on death.
I would want all to bid adieu to me gracefully and calmly. That is the way I want everyone to live too. I want everyone to laugh and be cheerful. After all, we pass this way only once and the moment lost is lost forever. Then why cry? No, I definitely wouldn’t want anyone to cry after me. I have never liked crying, as it is, and I wouldn’t want anyone to bring tears to their eyes after I am gone. I want everyone who knows me to remember me as a cheerful, flamboyant person. I want them to remember that I hated tears as they depict weakness and I don’t want anyone I know to be weak.

I understand that parting is painful and that is what hurts and brings tears but you have to face it. The sooner one comes to terms with reality; the better it is for you and for those around you.

That was then…a good 17 years back. But today, I can’t say the same things. Today, I have experienced reality; the overwhelming joyous reality of giving birth and the tragic reality of death too. Today, I still cry for my Papa. I still feel that frustration on not being able to bring him home in his last moments. I still look up on some nights and hope that the brightest star shining is Papa looking at me from up there. I still cry when I think how unfair it was for Sunny and me to have to lose Papa when there was still so much he had to see. I empathized with dolly when she lost her dad but now, I totally understand the tears.