Scribbled

I don’t know if this is coming out of boredom, or creativity, or the urge to put something out there. I wish that I knew it. I wish that I had known so many other things too!

Few days ago, 3 bombs went off in Mumbai. And, I am sure that you would be aware of the details, and if you are not then hallelujah, buddy! This is not about the system, the police, the terrorists. Its not about the Whats and the Whys. 

Can’t escape the thought of wondering what if I were to die in the blasts, what would have happened. More tragic would have been, if one were to left cripple at the end of whole thing! Boy, I would prefer death. Yup, you can call me names (‘coward’ is one), but that’s my choice.

What would have happened, if I were to die? I mean, you are dead, right. You are gone. Vanished. Parents would have cried their ears out. Really sad. I mean, there could not be anything sorrier than your parents crying because of you, for you. It really shatters the heart. But then you are gone, would you notice it after you are gone? Few close family members and friends would be sad, some would shed tears. Few acquaintances would heave a sigh. But then what? You are gone, there is going to be another day, people would move on with their lives and rightly so. One cannot drag on the heels of past forever. Parents and few special ones, perhaps, would drag it for a bit longer, but there is also an end, and it must be so. And, then as the cliché goes, “One is alive through memories”. But, are you, the one who is gone, aware of this?

This thing about death and “life” after death, or whatever you call it after death is a scientific mumbo-jumbo. It reminds me of Heisenberg uncertainty, to know the exactness of the event one must disturb the event, and hence lose the very thing we are seeking – exactness! I do not wish to dwell upon the religious dictums for they would push me towards the tangential of what I wish to exude. But I do prefer the idea of re-incarnation, there is something mystical and empowering about it, somehow adds a bit more meaning to one’s existence.

Coming back to the crux, so what happens to you – the one who is gone? If one puts together the religious and scientific theories together following are the most common theories floating around:

1. You are dead like a machine – body parts (organs for the human rights’ lovers) have stopped functioning – yes, 100% pure science smell – time to dispose off (fire, soil, vultures – pick your favourite)!
2. Re-incarnation – another body, same soul, you getting the drift, right?
3. Judgement Day – Principle of Hell & Heaven: pay for bad deeds, tax benefits for being nice, etc, etc.

Whatever amongst 1,2 or 3 happens to the ones who are gone, my question still remains the same, does it matter to the one who is gone? I wish I had an answer!

So, my hemmed in wisdom and rationale is prodding me to conclude that it does not matter! No matter what equation, connection, the “life” after death holds with the one preceding it, it just does not matter, because even if it matters there is no way of telling it, knowing it. Either this is seriously screwed up or I am, I know!

It is not that the blasts have disturbed me, psyched me. But it did force me to ponder over few things in life. When the first news of blasts were heard upon, there was no fear, rather inquisitiveness, there was no melancholy, rather eagerness to know the details – where, when, how, how many, etcetra (pile it up)! There were few jokes flying around, like, perfect time to order pizza – no way would they be able to deliver it in 30 minutes! Sadistic! But do we have an option but be sadistic about it? It is in this outer layer of being sadistic that we are hiding our grief, fear, helplessness, resilience, hope, because we are tired, bored, ashamed of carrying it on our sleeves. Simply put, we have run out of practical choices hence this, so that we can continue to live normally, atleast put a facade to it.

I know every time I board a train or a bus in Mumbai, I am not in a happy zone. So are others. There is a perennial rush to get down, move away from the usual suspects – trains & buses. Unsaid, but there is discomfort, we hate to give it the name, like say fear, for fear breeds nothing else but fear.

Things are not that bad, I might have exaggerated it a bit. But nor are they in the happy zone. The next time, God forbid, something like this occurs, and if I do not reply to the SMSs and answer your calls, don’t be disheartened. Perhaps, I am in a meeting. Perhaps, I am not. Perhaps, I left my mobile at home. Perhaps, I did not. Perhaps, I am teasing you. Perhaps, no more teasing. 

And, in the worst case scenario (MBA speaking), wherever I am, amongst the 1, 2 or 3, be assured that I am not wondering anymore, I am not wishing anymore, for I have the answer, the exactness, only if I were to know how to convey it to you!