I’ve always been in a
relationship with her… She’s been a constant presence in my life, I was just
too busy to pay her any attention. But as the years have progressed, our
relationship and its dynamics have changed. At first, I didn’t give her a
second thought. When I started thinking of her, I still wasn’t ready to
acknowledge her. When I could work up the courage to acknowledge her presence
in my life, I still held back; I still wouldn’t accept her. And finally today,
I’ve accepted her and come to terms with the fact that she’s always going to be
a part of my life… We’ve come a long way and it’s been a tumultuous
relationship… My relationship with death.
When I was a kid, it was
simply a word, one that I didn’t even hear too often. I heard a faint whisper
of it when my grandfather passed away when I was five. But I was too young to
know what it meant or to give it any real thought. The innocence of childhood worked
its magic and I escaped into adulthood without understanding the permanence of
death. My next encounter with it wasn’t until I was well into my 20s. Whether
it was fate or good luck, I don’t know, but I didn’t have to go through the
ordeal of losing someone close to me until I was 26. The first time I came face
to face with what had only been a vague idea to me until then was when I lost a
very close childhood friend in a flying accident. He’d been flying a Mirage
2000 that had crashed. That was the first time ever that I broke down and wept
because I realised he was gone for good… That there would be no more phone
calls, no more conversations. It was the first time I’d felt the pain of losing
someone and the void that their going away left in your life. I remember seeing
him lie motionless and wondering where he’d gone and what lay ahead of him. Was
this it? Was this the end of his story or was this just the end of this book,
but somewhere, in another universe, he’d become a part of another story? These
thoughts stayed with me.
But nature and the
invincibility of youth took over and gradually, my life and all that it had to
offer won over thoughts of death. That’s the beauty of youth. When you’re
young, wild and free, death seems like such an alien concept, something that
happens to others, not to us. At that
age, life is unfolding so rapidly that it sweeps us away. It is so beautiful and
we’re trying so hard to cram more life into each second that it’s difficult to
think about death.
My 20s passed pretty much the
same way. By the time the 30s took over, life started to change. Friends started
losing their parents and for the first time I thought about my own parents’
mortality. I realised that they were getting older and one day, death might
take them away from me. That’s the first lesson death teaches you—to fear it.
My relationship with death intensified as my physical world changed because of
it. People I had worked with, people who I had grown up watching were claimed
by death and all I could do was watch. That’s when death breaks the second big
myth of youth—that you’re not as invincible as you’d like to believe. I saw the
icons of my generation slowly go away and new icons take their place. Before I
knew it, I had moved up the generation ladder. By the time my 30s drew to an
end, I began to feel like I had reached a fork in my life’s road. Much like the
interval of a movie… And everything that had happened in the first half would
decide what the climax would be and how the movie would finally end.
Today, as I stand on the
brink of my 40th birthday, I look back on my life and I can only smile.
I’ve been very lucky. I had a great childhood, great growing up experiences,
travelled wherever the wind blew me, made movies, made great friends, had great
relationships, fell in love… There was never a dull moment. I’ve enjoyed every
bit of the ride, the roller-coasters as well as the speed-breakers. A few days
ago someone asked me if there was ever a moment when I felt that life wasn’t
worth living. The answer is an unquestionable ‘no’. There’s never been a moment
when life hasn’t excited me. Nothing has ever made me want to give up on it.
Which makes me wonder if I will ever reach a point where I am tired of living
it… I don’t think I will.
I’ve been thinking about
death a lot for the past few months… And I’ve been pondering over the lessons
that death has taught me. The time has gone when the invincibility of youth
cloaks all my weakness. When I see that my ‘young’ people are now getting
older, it makes me realise I’m getting older too. The pace of life is as fast
as it ever was… things are still happening in a flash… Years are flying by like
they’re wearing wings. But the difference is that now life isn’t stretching
endlessly before me. As the years blur into one another, I’m beginning to count
them… And beginning to wonder how many more I have. I don’t think I fear death
per se, I think it’s more the idea of not living that I have a problem with. It’s
the fear of the unknown. Is death simply a transition from one state of being to
another or is it really the end? Will everything stop to exist or will I just
be transported to a new place with new experiences? Is there something more
waiting for me on the other side of the finish line? It’s like moving to
another country, leaving behind everything you love, everything that’s familiar
and comforting. I think of life like a country I love being in. I love every
part of it… The air that I breathe, the food that I eat, the sights that I see
and the things that I do… So the thought of leaving this country is a difficult
one to digest. Will I ever want to move out of it? That’s my real fear… That my
life is so beautiful that giving it up is going to be painful.
I don’t think anyone has the
answers to these questions... And I know that it’s inevitable. One day I will
have to meet death. But I don’t think for me it’ll be a happy meeting. Because
I will always carry a candle in my heart for my very first love—LIFE.
