In the past two years I have lost a number of close people in my life to terminal disorders. A couple of my teachers, a college friend.... they gave up fighting. I know some who still continue the battle.
What if you knew you had a few months to live? You live in fear, yet in a sense of contentment. You want to make the best of each day. You want to live life to the fullest. You want to create moments that you and your loved ones can cherish in your absence. You get the feeling of doing everything for the 'last time'.
There are patches of speedy wellbeing. There are those who believe that they'll survive it. They are on the road to recovery. At this stage nothing can go wrong....and then suddenly....
Life cheats them. Time cheats them. Did they predict death, so soon?
Accidental deaths. Who can predict them? Touch and Go. They don't even know the end is near. The poison maybe slow or fast. If fast, they can't sense pain. It gets over in a flash of a lightning. If slow, there is still hope of revival.
And then there are people who conspire to kill themselves. Umpteen ways possible, umpteen trials made.
The contrasting thoughts amaze me. There are people who want to die and people who wish they were alive. Alive to see their parent's 25th wedding anniversary, their daughter's godbharaai, their son's first pay. Alive to look after their spouses in the lonely old age. Alive to see the birth of their grandchildren.
Its a wonderful life, yet why don't some of us want to live another day?