THE FINAL MOMENT

A thought crossed my mind today. If, you were lying on your deathbed and before closing your eyes, you could see just one image of the past in your mind, what would that be? Would it be your most depressed moment? Happiest? An image of your family or friends? Something, more like, out of an old sepia-tinted photograph?

I made several attempts to visualise the scenario and seek the answer. To those who ask if this is really necessary, all I can say is perhaps, the exercise is a chance to prepare myself for the inevitable, whenever that maybe.

While questions linger, and as I ponder over them, I'm drawn to the word - Happiest. Prejudice? Possibly. I can't say, at this point in time, if this state of mind has either come and gone or yet to, in my life. If it is the former, then did I ever realise it? Strange, being aware makes you happier than (that moment itself, called) happiest! If it has not come my way, then would I recognise it when it does?

And what is this happiness? Such a relative-relative term. Like all other emotions. Such an unquantifiable and intangible entity. And happiest? How can you possibly measure happiest-ness? Recollect all those moments when you clutched your tummy, rolled on the floor, got your intestines knotted, experienced those tingly sensations? And well, ask yourself now, do you remember what made you behave so animatedly? Else the way you felt while sitting by the side of the window, at night, watching the purple hues of the sky... or the silent drizzle highlighted by a row of sodium vapour lamps? Bliss? There could be a gazillion ways to feel happy. In my opinion, to "realise" is, perhaps, the greatest. You could have a mental picture associated with it. But how many realisations in a lifetime and which one would rein supreme? And the corresponding image? This brings me back to my question.

Worse (or better!), am asking myself - Do you have to even think of such a moment? It may not exist after all. You could just pass away in your sleep and not know anything! Saves you from all the trouble, eh? Lol!

WE COULD ALWAYS BEGIN AGAIN...

Since morning, I've been thinking of my lecturer, Hema, in college where I pursued my under-graduation. She would teach us Mathematics - orally! Writing on the blackboard, according to her, was one big waste of time! And today, if she ever saw me ambling about - and strolling through my life - those would probably be the most blasphemous things ever. I can almost hear her say, "Wasting time like this? Wasting life like this? You can do something with your life, no?"

Chuckle!

Until my under-grad days, there was something or the other to keep me occupied. Studies, Science forum, Science courses, NIAS lectures... amazing! Those were my antioxidants preventing my brain from rusting away. I needed those doses, everyday. My gang of five would sit in the basketball court and discuss a million things under the sun. Without inhibitions. I matured in my thoughts. I grew more confident and aware of myself and things around me.

But, since then, I have not developed intellectually. Stunted and stagnated. People (which includes me) gather to speak about other people. People gather to speak about jobs in jeopardy. People gather to speak about themselves and their problems. No informative lectures. And discussions that mostly end up being making-a-jackass-of-you sessions (barring the amazing conversations with my roomie, Jags, PR, RS...).

But what stopped me from learning? I was run-over by a very silly person inside me who said, "You don't have to do anything with your life. Life has no purpose. Just idle away." I've been stuck with this pseudo-philosophy in my head and watching myself rotting away and being devoured by scavengers (read, depression). I've stopped learning, reading, writing, speaking, understanding. Tied down by a creeper called indifference. Watching a moss, called fear, growing layer by layer.

One thing remains intact from that day to this - my restlessness! A bliss, indeed!

I've been reading this book, Pale Blue Dot, for a pretty long time now. It's by Carl Sagan, also the author of Contact and Cosmos. Started with the e-book version of it last year but couldn't get beyond ten pages. I'm to be blamed, totally. Reasons? You just read them all.

But these days, I'm glued to the book. Lapping up every single word of it. Feeling every little idea it contains. Exhilarating! It's like knowledge dripping down on me. Gently. And this sentence struck me hard - "We could always begin again." What does one need to start life afresh? A passion? A direction? Some support? Lots of enthusiasm?

I've just got to keep this momentum rolling. I need to explore and introspect. May be I can hear Science calling out to me again. The last piece in the puzzle of my life, perhaps?

Chuckle!