The Clockwork of Life

Deathbed. The White linen sheets, the smell of the disinfectant in hospital, the feel of my index finger touching the thumb, the continuous beep of some machine near my pillow. Moments in deathbed. Living this aesthetic moment in this epoch of time is indeed bliss. These, i know, are last moments of my human-hood before the 'I' inside me plunges into valley of unknown.

I try to recollect all my good memories in my life, in vain. All I end up, is recollecting images. That flower-vase in the windowsill, that bright wallpaper, that Che Guevara sticker in my motorbike, the solo boat-rides in lake near my house. Then, I try to remember people. The process of imagination then becomes like a giant collage of group photographs. It seemed like everyone else in the collage, except me, had got themselves caught in a big time bubble and hence frozen.

One, they never grew old. Two, their character never changed in my book of life. Strange. Indeed.

I had learnt quite a bit of science in my 65 years on my stay on earth, that I never indulged in any religious practices in the last 40 years of my life. There were religious men and Women, driven by their vedic intolerance towards Atheism, persuading me to follow a cult.

In this moment in deathbed, where the realms of Physics gives way to the Occult labyrinths of Metaphysics, I don't denounce my atheism. I am just a bunch of Cells. And they are going to stop replenishing in few hours. I believe ignorance of Science among masses is a sign of degradation of Civilization to Barbarianism.

I slumber, I hear people speaking, I slumber again. I try to communicate in vain. It is an irony that we still believe in languages for communication.

Every time my eyelid opens after a wink, I feel similar to my first kiss. Every time I move my head, I feel like an axe splitting my spine. It is the dusk as the Life sinks into horizon. The Sailor is going to dock his ship in the harbor.

I am not sure how I look like now. It has been months since I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I am not sure how I smell now. Damp squib of an old man, may be. The Nature still asks me questions, which my system is too tired to answer. The music is all gone in my ears. It is just like feathers of a caged bird. This state of mine is neither a curse nor a Punishment for my sins, It is just nature.

Wars, Famine, Child labor, Racism.. I forgive mankind in my deathbed and give'em one more chance to reform. Let there be light.