An average day of study. I am yet to complete finishing the geography part, but now its late(9:00 pm) and making back the journey to home by train.
I am a habitual to the train, to the platform and to the surroundings at Virar Platform No 7 at this time of day (or night). Its all same since past 6 months. The 9:00 pm MEMU is almost empty with exception of few heads. On the platform, there are few families dining, chatting, cosying up each other. An ordinary day. As usual, I got my daily window seat and digged my head to finish off geography.
A few moments lapsed, I heard low wails of a woman crying. I searched for the source and found it to be a woman on platform. A lone woman amongst the 10-15 families residing there was crying. Initially I thought of some domestic issues involved and ignored it. But the pitch of the sound increased and this time an another woman joined in, partly crying and partly consoling. I curiously looked around and I saw person lying beside the crying woman, across the railway beam. On a closer look, it was clear that the person was dead and was a relative of the woman. The person died probably by an illness. Strange but true, that the emotions are same everywhere and they surpass class, religion,region or lingual boundaries. The loss felt by the dear ones is always the same and the void left behind cannot be filled by anyone whether it be a beggar or be an emperor. Time can only heal the wound and lower its pain.
True to its character, Death is a great leveller. It catches everyone irrespective of his caste,creed,status or position. For most of us, it comes unannounced. Even the fear for death is same in everyone's heart and no one wants to die. Ironically everyone wants to go to heaven! After death every person is treated with respect, irrespective of his 'karma'. Probably, we humans are more fearful of the reprisal from the ghosts rather than believing on old Sanskrit saying"Marnanti vairani" (Death ends all enmities). A human in his life tries to get the same rrespect from the fellow brethren, but he hardly gets one if he does not have money or power except after his death. True , death has its own rules and it devours none, whether it be Shri Krishna, Lord Jesus or Prophet Mohammad.
In the meantime my train has moved , the body still lays there, resting in eternal silence. The woman's wail have been converted to sobs, she might have prepared herself with thought of living the rest of life without the person she was crying for.
A few lines by my friend reverbate in my mind....
Zindagi main do minute mere koi pass na baitha,aaj sab mere pass baithe ja rahe hai;
Koi tohfa na mila aaj tak mujhe, aaj phool hi phool diye ja rahe hai;
Taras gaye the mere haath kisike diye ek kapde ko, aaj naye kapde odhaye ja rahe the;
Do kadam saath chalne ko naa taiyaar tha koi, aaj kaafilaa banakar chale ja rahe hai;
Aaj Pata chala 'maut' itni hasin hoti hai, kambakht hum toh yuhin jiye ja rahe the.
(No one gave me company even for two minutes, today all are sitting besides me;
Never had I received any gift from anyone, today I am receiving flowers and flowers;
I pleaded (but never got) for a piece of cloth, today I am adorned by news clothes;
Nobody ever followed me for even two steps,today I am being followed as a leader;
Today I understood how beautiful (and bountiful) death is, and I unnecessarily struggled to live.)
by
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