The mat that held me was held up in the air by 4 people. It was gliding through a narrow street which sloped down towards Ganga. When we reached the ghats they kept the mat down on the veranda of a small building. I remembered this place. Not long before i had come here with my friends. We were staring at the dead bodies, some burning and some waiting to be burned. A person who called himself the keeper of the eternal fire had shown us that fire. While my friend was trying to sneak a picture of the ghat which was a camera free zone i was eying the narrow, cozy lane that goes back to the town. Piles of dry wood were stacked everywhere. There was a corpse at the exact same place that i was lying now.
Will writing about death invite it? Was thinking about this little thing i wrote sometime last year, when I had a brush with death in December.
4 comments:
Writing about death doesn't invite it, I don't think. But I do think that it makes you more aware of dying.
Are you more aware of dying not that you write about death?
I was just wondering.
"And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad. The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had"
I dunno.
But, death hovers around those that truly find themselves attracted to it.
I've known one person to die by their obsession with death...but that took years and a few months of being with me.
So, who is to say?? Except for well..the dead.
Invite death in as a guest and you can't go wrong.
Look at it this way, eventually we all die. It's going to happen. Since it is going to happen, from the standpoint of eternity you are already dead. Accept it, mourn, grieve, have a wake. There, it's over now. Now you are free. This is the first day of the end of your life.
Lazarus lupin
http://strangespanner.blogspot.com/
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