Friday, June 24, 2011

Life n beyond...


Saddened by the sad demise of grandma some days back.....it brought back some childhood memories of the life those days and the questions on afterlife.

"A generation gone!"...a blank face of dada, whom I've not been fortune enough to see; a religious face of dadi, who was such a strong lady to do all her chores herself even past 90; an encouraging face of nana, who would inspire us to touch the sky; and finally a loving face of nani, who would disclose the mommisms and shower all the goodies....all stood frozen in the mind! There's always a special relation with the grandparents....when your parents are strict to you, it's their parents who are the authority to appeal!
Whatever has happened can't be reversed, the shared memories will forever bind all of us together!

"What's beyond life?” is a question that catches every child's imagination. Whether it will be the familiar face of the Gods and Goddesses in heaven that we try to appease once in a while? Or the demons in hell! Whether it will be the scary face of ghosts that we saw in those horror shows? Or the angels in fairy tales! Whether it will just be a new face, a rebirth...as a prince or a pauper, a human or an animal, on earth or on a distant planet? 
Whatever is to happen can't be prevented, for now it's just good to be in the state of eternal oblivion!

Neither will those days return, nor will those questions be answered...but it reaffirms the premise of living life to the fullest. And for both the believers as well as the non-believers of the 2012 doomsday theory, a message to live every single moment like there's no tomorrow!

Fear No More the Heat o' the Sun - Shakespeare (Funeral song from the play Cymbeline)  
Fear no more the heat o' the sun,
Nor the furious winter's rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art done, and ta'en thy wages:
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

Fear no more the frown o' the great;
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke;
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak:
The Sceptre, Learning, Physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.

Fear no more the lightning-flash,
Nor the'all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finished joy and moan:
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.

No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing ill come near thee!
Quiet consummation have,
And renownèd by thy grave!

PS: Picture courtesy Google.