During my school life, I remember, one particular day when a few friends had decided to visit the cremation ground on the outskirts of our town. I think I was 12 years old then and always eager to learn new things, as is usual with fresh minds.

Luckily or unluckily, a dead body was being laid on the stack of wood logs, which we later came to know was called funeral pyre. They poured sacred liquids, oil, scents, etc. and within no time the flames were rising high. A sudden pain ran through my heart, for I had heard that after the death, according to the Hindu rituals the dead body was burnt but it was the first live scene happening before my eyes.

Now when I look back and remember the incident, I am convinced that that was the turning point in my life. The instant effect was a few days of complete silence, except for the nods which I gave in approval to my parents and other members of the family. They did not realize the transformation that was taking place in my existence because they believed that it was one of my whimsical journeys of sudden changes of mood which would ultimately come back to my normal self. For the last 38 years there has not been any coming back to my so called normal self. I studied with distinct graveness and talked only when required. Philosophy attracted me more than any other subject, and in the process I scanned hundreds of volumes of Socratic philosophy, Plato’s writings, Tao, Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam, Christianity, and almost any other teaching that came my way. Literature was the medium and it led me to earn my master’s degree after the completion of my science degree in physics. Science was forced upon me but literature was my choice.

Poetry was the ultimate resort and it provided me with the vent that I had been searching for. Marriage and the fruit of marriage, two lovely daughters, were all events for me, and I never took anything seriously. I had mastered the art of living day to day, for the future, I mean the ultimate future, I had already known when I was 12 years old watching the flames rising from the funeral pyre.

My philosophical conclusion of life is very simple and I can sum it up in one line: “Life is an uncertain and unpredictable preparation for death.”

I am full of optimism but my optimistic palace is laid on the foundation of deep pessimism of the fact that the palace of pessimism enables you to raise the walls of optimism but when the construction is over the artist’s time of final departure is imminent.

One very beautiful point I have picked from the hazy collage of the life cycle, and that is the realization of facts. Live to die but die every night to be reborn every next morning. You don’t know when the final bell is going to ring. Try never to hurt the sentiments of others, respecting the goodness of heart and existence. Life is here and now, and your acts are important now. Do at least one act in your life time which should make you feel proud before you say goodbye to this wonderful visible world.

I love you all.

God bless you

Rajasir

http://www.rajasirji.webs.com