The End

The end is always the only thing that is ever remembered .It doesn’t really matter where you were born or how you started out but what makes a difference is what you are able to do with what you were given and what you can proudly look back upon when you are at the finish line.

Most of those at the beginning of their journeys haven’t even contemplated the end. At that moment, all that matters is the journey and all one could care for would be to make the most of every opportunity.

The reason that I have begun to ponder on such decidedly morbid matters is a recent funeral, which I was unfortunate enough to witness. As the body was carried through a sea of drenched white, those close to the deceased showed no emotion. The cremation was all that mattered at present, the fact of the death having sunk in.

As the flames lovingly caressed the departed, a flurry of activity ensued among those gathered. Hindu custom dictated that the skull of the individual must be broken during the ritual to ensure salvation and freedom from the cycle of rebirth.

The dutiful son having been entrusted with this responsibility was consulting with priests on the manner in which the act must be completed. As the stick whistled through the dull autumn sky in diminishing light, a single tear rolled down the cheek of the partner of the departed, the finality of the loss being sealed with every hit.

Wouldn’t it be better to go through life with no emotional attachments? Wouldn’t this ensure freedom from the sadness of loss, the anger of betrayal and the frustration and despair that accompanies every attempt at human companionship? Historical examples suggest that those who renounce the world ultimately gain knowledge of a greater truth, their lives turning infinitely more peaceful. Yet we clamor to stick to the tried and tested formula, diligently struggling to keep our lives mundane.

Clearly history has failed to teach us a few things of importance.

As I walked away from the charred ground, having resolved never to burden myself with the weight of unnecessary loss, shrieks of uncontrolled excitement broke the reverie of my musings. Two kittens were gamboling around their mother, tugging and pulling at her fur giving her no respite. The feline was obviously exhausted but did not seem to mind being the object of entertainment for her litter.

It was then that reality emerged.

It did not take great courage in separating oneself from the world. Some might even amount it to running away. True grit lay in standing the tribulations that life throws at us, fully aware that it is a game no one has ever won and no one ever will. The players involved must ultimately lose.

But, it is those who brave the roll of the dice and play uninhibited who have the most to lose and face the peril of being forgotten.

Yet, even in death they champion the game of life.