To live before I die

Satjit Singh

Attending the last rites of a deceased relative or acquaintance generally carries one to a reflective mood, even if the deceased happened to leave this world after a long, fulfilling life, say 90 plus, or just got freedom from suffering  and pain of a prolonged illness. A sort of melancholy and pensiveness is associated with the event. I had this kind of experience a couple of days back.

Listening to very melodiously rendered Gurbani, mainly of Sant Kabir, was a mesmerising experience. This was followed by lectures, the routine stuff, on uncertainty of the moment of death; need for spiritual living; the reality & purpose of life etc. On the way back, listening to some popular Hindi songs on radio in my car, my thoughts got stuck to a line from a  popular lyric  by Sahir Ludhianvi:

Na Jane kaun sa pall Maut ki amanat ho 

Har ek pall ki khushi ko galey laga ke geo

I was thinking.

Life — how much is enough?

 As a young boy, I never thought I will reach this age. I have already outlived the age at which my father, mother and sister left this world. Strangely, I have no fear of death as it is, but wish it means only 'To cease upon the midnight with no pain.....'

 I may hastily add that this does not imply lack of desire to live. I am enjoying life and have a good long wish list in my basket: to travel to  Africa, Israel, Europe and interior of India; to cuddle another grandchild, the one like my younger son; to read complete Guru Granth Sahib and, at least, translation of holy Bible, Quran, and Bhagwad Gita.

How apt is Mirza Galib: Hazaaron khwahishen aisi ke/ Har khawahish pe dum nikle.

 Is it necessary to have some targets to live a so-called “meaningful life”? Why can't I walk for the pleasure of walking, for that matter traveling, driving, flying or sailing — just for the heck of it? Music, particularly, spiritual, is so soothing and sweet to ears. A book in hand with a cup of coffee or an occasional drink by your side is a world so wonderful! Friends and many youngsters are so good to talk to, good writers, artists, photographers. So many.  Buying ice cream for children of some daily wager is a pleasure, stoping your car to let the waiting pedestrian cross is satisfying despite the contemptuous honking of the vehicles behind, patting and feeding a stray dog is fun. Watching the blooming of flowers and chirping of birds on the tree you saved from the axe is ecstatic.  

Sahir Ludhianvi tells, in his own style, the way to live and move on:

Mana ki is zamin ko na gulzaar  

kar sake,

Kuch khaar kam to kar gaye guzre jidhar se hum 

 If only I could learn to live before I die.