God! How much bad news can I endure?
The boy who I blogged about , in my previous post passed away on Sunday morning. How do I know that? Well , I saw his family members carrying his body in a procession to the jeep , which would obviously take it to the creamtorium. Hindus are cremated , not buried. It was a terrible scene, that procession. I was returning from Sanskrit tuition when I saw that. All of those people , dressed in white, looked like phantoms on the lonely street. I felt as if I was looking at lost souls seeking salvation. Of course , the boy was the soul of the family but now he was gone, and so was their happiness. I saw his sister crying silently on her mother’s shoulder and at the same time , against myself, I was reminded of all the deaths that I had seen. My uncle, my grandpa , my classmate and now this !
I had never felt older in my life. Here I was ,worrying about my exams and just 2 blocks away a boy was dead , never to return again. The procession stopped suddenly and some people looked at me. I realised that I was blocking the road, I moved away in a desperate attempt to move as far away from that place as possible. But I caught some words which forced me to reflect on irony. The late boy’s father , was saying to his uncle that they were going to cremate him in Puri. I couldn’t help , but reflect on how ironical life could be. This boy met his doom while returning from Puri and here was his body going to be cremated in Puri.
Nitish said that people dying of accidents is commonplace and are reported everyday in newspapers. Of course it doesn’t affect you if some Tom,Dick or Harry died in a freak accident , but have you ever thought once that this dying person is someone’s father,brother,uncle and most importantly….son ?! I fear to imagine the grief of father, who has to see the lifeless face of his son. Think about this once and you will realise that every life matters. No matter how small or insignificant.