The Man Who Was...
AN OBITUARY
He was a great man(thats the way they always start),posessed an amazing ability of life,a great zeal for living.There used to be this air about him,an aura of positivity,infinite optimism,and that impeccable capability to make everything around himdance with cheerfulness,everything,the stars,trees,the whole world,maybe it was in his eyes.He loved to live,and the way things would shape up,the twists and turns life would take,he used to enjoy every bit,and relish it as a new adventure,a new excitement.One thing can be said without a doubt,that he had more friends than foes to his account.
But in the last days of his life,he was a changed man(this one's a li'l inspired ,but all the more relevant so can't help putting it).And that change made him wise,and enlightened,and introduced him to his own-self,his own real self,who he was,and what he wanted to be,which had long been covered by layers of ignorance.He realized he wasn't whom he saw himself as and projected himself to be.He wasn't as strong as he felt he was,emotionally,mentally,spiritually,socially,he had feelings too,some of them involuntary,which had been suppressed since ages,just because of the fear of going weak,and uncontrollable.He was scared,but he failed to admit that.He thought he was taking life in his strides but he was actually backing off,backing off just because of the fear,the terror of losing.Its not that he did not meet success or get what he wanted that way,he did,more often than not,he did,but something was missing,shallow maybe.And that was life.Quite contradictory it seems,it is.Life earlier was too simple to be called life,too straight,and too happy,too shiny,too shimmery,always,maybe the glasses he was wearing were too bright,maybe he was looking directly at the sun,so everything was bright yellow.And life's not just that,it is as dull pastels as it is brightness and gloss and smoothness.And maybe that was what became too difficult to handle,maybe too much of brightness had had him ruin his eye lens,But in his last days,he could see what love is,that it is as much about pain as it is about joy,as much about giving as it is about receiving,that the terms selfless,one-sided love are all irrelevant and meaningless misnomers.That one can never stop expecting until he is alive,that everyone in this world is insecure,fearful,jealous and satanic to some extent,even our so called Gods are.That unabated crying is as necessary as an unchecked laugh.that we are all weak within,however we may try and fake that.That we live only for ourselves,that the most selfish person is 'me',everyone of us.that the whole world regulates on barter system,what you give is what you get,not a penny more,not a dime less.That neither does anybody gain,nor does one lose.He learnt life...
Maybe the change was too drastic,the pain rather unbearable...And thus,here,six feet under,lies Shubham Khurana,motionless,contented,smiling within...
He was a great man(thats the way they always start),posessed an amazing ability of life,a great zeal for living.There used to be this air about him,an aura of positivity,infinite optimism,and that impeccable capability to make everything around himdance with cheerfulness,everything,the stars,trees,the whole world,maybe it was in his eyes.He loved to live,and the way things would shape up,the twists and turns life would take,he used to enjoy every bit,and relish it as a new adventure,a new excitement.One thing can be said without a doubt,that he had more friends than foes to his account.
But in the last days of his life,he was a changed man(this one's a li'l inspired ,but all the more relevant so can't help putting it).And that change made him wise,and enlightened,and introduced him to his own-self,his own real self,who he was,and what he wanted to be,which had long been covered by layers of ignorance.He realized he wasn't whom he saw himself as and projected himself to be.He wasn't as strong as he felt he was,emotionally,mentally,spiritually,socially,he had feelings too,some of them involuntary,which had been suppressed since ages,just because of the fear of going weak,and uncontrollable.He was scared,but he failed to admit that.He thought he was taking life in his strides but he was actually backing off,backing off just because of the fear,the terror of losing.Its not that he did not meet success or get what he wanted that way,he did,more often than not,he did,but something was missing,shallow maybe.And that was life.Quite contradictory it seems,it is.Life earlier was too simple to be called life,too straight,and too happy,too shiny,too shimmery,always,maybe the glasses he was wearing were too bright,maybe he was looking directly at the sun,so everything was bright yellow.And life's not just that,it is as dull pastels as it is brightness and gloss and smoothness.And maybe that was what became too difficult to handle,maybe too much of brightness had had him ruin his eye lens,But in his last days,he could see what love is,that it is as much about pain as it is about joy,as much about giving as it is about receiving,that the terms selfless,one-sided love are all irrelevant and meaningless misnomers.That one can never stop expecting until he is alive,that everyone in this world is insecure,fearful,jealous and satanic to some extent,even our so called Gods are.That unabated crying is as necessary as an unchecked laugh.that we are all weak within,however we may try and fake that.That we live only for ourselves,that the most selfish person is 'me',everyone of us.that the whole world regulates on barter system,what you give is what you get,not a penny more,not a dime less.That neither does anybody gain,nor does one lose.He learnt life...
Maybe the change was too drastic,the pain rather unbearable...And thus,here,six feet under,lies Shubham Khurana,motionless,contented,smiling within...
posted by @archie@ at 8:00 AM
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