The day I would leave this world.
As of now, I have already lived that day 22 times. My 23rd birthday is coming up, soon it will be 23 times.
What day will it be? Or will it be a night? Would it be a special day? My birthday? My sister’s wedding anniversary? My grandfather’s death anniversary? Republic Day? Independence Day? My best friend’s wedding? I do fervently hope that it doesn’t antagonise anyone... that much.
Would I spoil a day of happiness for someone by dying? Or probably brighten up the day? What kind of memories would people associate with that day? Will it smell rotten? Will it feel harsh? Will it sound tiresome? Will it taste crisp? Will it look dreary?
Will it be a Monday or a Saturday? I have a feeling it might be a Thursday... It never liked me anyway. January? February? March? I pray it’s not December. I am, kind of, partial towards it. What season would it be? In the throes of Spring? In the dead of Winter? Or the dusk of Autumn? Or the slush of Monsoon? What time would it be? Early morning with the birds singing their songs? Or the dark of the night?
Maybe someone else would die on the same day as me. Maybe, I will die with another friend, or an enemy. Maybe, some famous personality would expire on the same day and it would be declared a holiday with the flag at half-mast. Maybe, a new king would be born or maybe a country. Maybe the cure for Cancer would be found that day. Or maybe the third World War would be declared that day.
Maybe, I would be the only person to die on that day in the whole wide world. Or maybe, the most number of people would die with me. Would the day bring a tear or cheer?
... but what if I manage to leave this world alive?
No comments:
Post a Comment