Reconciling with Death

Babumoshai, 

zindagi aur maut upar waale ke haath hai ... 

usse na toh aap badal sakte hai na main ... 

hum sab to rangmanch ki kathputliyan hai 

jinki dor upar waale ki ungliyon mein bandhi hai

Death is inevitable, as we are all mere mortals. We can always strengthen ourselves and be prepared for it. But how do you deal with the death of another, close to you. It is very tough and we have all tried to deal with it one time or the other. I have seen death from close quarters and each time the experience is new and fresh. Every time I think, 'Ok, now I know what to expect and will be able to deal with it better next time', but each next time is as difficult.

Death is hurtful. Be it due to old age, disease or accident. But I feel the worst to deal with are the accidental deaths, the ones with no reason. They are the toughest to reconcile. Death in old age can be reconciled with the fact that death is inevitable and life was fully lived. Disease again with death is inevitable and out of pain and suffering philosophy.

But what about the untimely deaths? What justification, especially when the person is in their prime and the accident was no fault of theirs? How do you reconcile? Where is the sense of justice and fair play? What is the Super Power doing, our Guardian who is supposed to protect us? Hinduism talks of the cycle of rebirth, sins of past lives, etc. etc.. But do these really make any sense? Carry forward concept of our sins might be a motivation to lead a good life but how does it help deal with untimely deaths? Questions Questions..... No answers.

Coming to the initial question - how to reconcile with untimely deaths. When I am in a dilemma, I resort to studying people around me to get inspiration. I categorised them into three types.
First are the type who lament, blast the doctors or anyone for that matter. I found these and those who vent their emotions at the funerals and hospitals when they hear the news, are the best copers. They are letting the emotions out and get an instant relief. Once the emotion is out, they are back to some semblance of normalcy and get along with their lives sooner than later.
Next are the ones who plunge themselves into tasks like making funeral arrangements, ensuring that the family and visitors are well-fed and taken care of, and taking care of other knick-knacks. Though they are repressing their emotions, the energy is spent and the intensity dilutes. They too are able to jump back to normalcy soon.
Third is the so-called "brave" ones, who are pillar of support and strength to the above two categories. They stand behind and offer a shoulder to cry on. They don't cry, they don't offer any opinion, they just stand by stoically and are available for any who wants to talk. They take the longest to heal. They bottle up the emotions and save it for later, but later when they want to vent everyone around has already moved on and a proper channel for outlet is not available. It is for these people that the concept of mourners and rudali came into existence. They act as triggers and are supposed to move even the stoic ones.

So to answer the question, how to reconcile with death. The simple answer is you can't and you don't. Death happens with or without (an apparent) cause. One has to learn to cope with it either by venting out or tiring it out. Trying to find a justification or reason is a futile endeavour. There are no answers. As always I fall back to Bollywood for inspiration:

Maut tu ek kavita hai....
Mujhse ek kavita ka vadaa hai, milegi mujhko ...

Doobti nabzon mein jab dard ko neend aane lage
Zard sa chehra liye chaand ufaq tak pahunche ...
Din abhi paani mein ho, raat kinare ke kareeb
Na andhera ho, na ujala ho ...
Na aadhi raat, na din
Jism jab khatm ho aur rooh ko saans aae ...

Mujhse ek kavita ka vadaa hai milegi mujhko....

translation:
O death! You're like poetry
And I've been promised by a poem, that it shall be mine

As the pulse (of life) recedes, the pain & suffering go to (an eternal) sleep
And a yellowish (young) moon starts to rise and reach its zenith
The day is yet to sink in water, as the night waits, nigh, to the shore
It's not dark, it's not bright
it's neither midnight nor high noon
And as the body loses material, the free soul gets seeped with (fresh) air

The poem has (fulfilled the) promise of being mine!