What happens after one has drawn in the last breath of air? After the last blink of the eye lids? Are we just a lump of hydrocarbon with a limited shelf life? At the end of which we cease to exist? Are we at a constant war with the micro organisms in our body, awaiting till they take over and decompose us back to the earth?
If that be the case; then what is the purpose of life? Why do all religions preach of an 'afterlife'? An eternal hope that no matter what your circumstances are in the present world, that your good deeds will be rewarded in eternal life.
These were the thoughts running through the mind of Siddhartha as he sat on the rocking chair and watching the birds fly home at sunset. Soon the sky would turn from the pale blue he saw now to the fiery red and then darken gradually to fade into the darkness of the night.
Since the past twenty three years he would come out and sit at the porch watching the sun set into the lake of Bikshi. Yes, it was today, twenty three years ago that Pooja had left him; forever. Since then he would come and sit down and watch the end of the day. Often his thoughts would drift towards his beloved wife. For her skin was as golden as the evening sun. Her eyes had the same sparkle as the sun's reflection in the water. Her passion was as fiery as the redness of the sky... In every sunset he would see a part of his wife; and would wish her goodnight and later move indoors as the chilly winds got to his bones.
But tonight was special. He got so far engrossed in his thoughts of life and death and the purpose of it all that he didn't realize that Ankur, his grandson had not returned from the fields.
No comments:
Post a Comment