A man passes away. For a new abode? Heaven or hell — depending upon his karma? Does the soul indeed finds peace up above? Or the soul experiences painful turbulence on witnessing the plight of his own left vulnerable in this mortal world? I don’t know the answers of any of these questions.
But the hard truth remains in front of our very eyes — The man is gone, gone for ever, never never to return in our fold to grace the planet. The only thing that he has left behind is nothing but trails of memories.
The noted Algerian writer Mouloud Benzadi pens “When the pretty birds have flown/ And you feel hurt and alone/Be strong and carry on / And remember that life goes on”! Yes, absolutely true. Life globe nature continues to go on in its own pace despite personal tragedies. Indeed the Hooghly continues to flow in its full might, the fishermen continuing their search of fish on boats, launch still rendering its service of ferrying people and vehicles from bank to bank — just no change, all things simply remaining the same! But for the mourner — be it wife, husband, children, parents, siblings, warm neighbours, friends or colleagues; nature or life undergoes a sea change as far as appreciation is concerned.
The river which had previously inspired awe or delight in mind with its massive watery glow now resembling nothing but a deluge of tears! The single boat negotiating the mighty river might had invoked a poem bordering on romance or adventure, but today the same sight might be equated with loneliness amidst the gallons of miseries! “Good morning” messages in social media often talk about the smiles of nature within rising sun beaming moon white puffy clouds; but it seems absolutely meaningless and dull in the hearts of the mourners as those “smiles” hold no meaning in the consciousness of them any more thereby proving that sense of beauty is nothing but a state of mind or soul.
And those who have lost their only earning member have to negotiate stark financial problems as well. The minor who has lost his parent with crucial school examination knocking at the door, needs to be prepared for a very very tough tussle between psychology and reality — Fight Fight and Fight remaining their only mantra of life!
On the holy dawn of Mahalaya, the children offer homage to their deceased ancestors. Again nobody can vouch about the existence of soul high above, but there lies no doubt that such a thought indeed applies a balm to the heart as if the ancestors are appreciating our respect and in turn blessing us just as they had done when alive. This thought or idea of Mahalaya is certainly an inspiring one and a nice way to pay tribute to the departed ones.
