Of Death and defiance

Was just chatting with Aijaz, the usual mindless banter of two people stuck in office with not really much to do for the day, and somehow, we struck upon the topic of death. Yes it was discussing the death of Parveen Babi, a glam doll of the 60s and 70s of the Indian cinema. Well she was found dead in her apartment after the neighbours complained of a collecting pile of news papers and milk bottles outside her house. She had apparently been dead for over two days, due to either a medical overdose or gangrine.

A stralet loved by millions, fantacized about by thousands, found dead, all alone, probably rotting. Once deemed the most beautiful woman of her era, now long forgotten like some small act of kindness.

An excerpt from the chat:

Mohican says:
haan waisay parveen babi's death depressed me, lying dead in flat for over 2 days
Mohican says:
no friends no family
Mohican says:
i wudn't want to go alone, i wud want to be surrounded
Mohican says:
no
@ñKÂHi ® says:
you won't die alone
@ñKÂHi ® says:
I know that
Mohican says:
i take that back, i guess death is something you should experience in the privacy of your company and none other
Mohican says:
what do you say?
@ñKÂHi ® says:
haan it is a personal thing
@ñKÂHi ® says:
maghar you won't be alone
Mohican says:
waisay at time of death i;m sure we wudn't even give a shit if we are alone or not, we'd just be thinking O SHIT! we're dead! ha ha
@ñKÂHi ® says:
"office mayn aik adad bed hona chahiyay" quotes Omair Hameed, my office seat neigbour
Mohican says:
ha ha! true, waisay right now i really want to stretch my back, not sleep, just stretch my back
.
.
.
@ñKÂHi ® says:
wish someday tu waapis aajaa yaar
@ñKÂHi ® says:
before this life goes waapis
@ñKÂHi ® says:
pata nahin I don't believe that we will live long
@ñKÂHi ® says:
anyways....
.
.
.
Mohican says:
same here buddy, either that or we'd live one of those extremely long, never ending lives
.
.
.
Mohican says:
no moderation, just extremes
@ñKÂHi ® says:
yup
@ñKÂHi ® says:
agreed

So that was the brief conversation we had, that's left me thinking, or rather pondering death. Questions like would I be petrified when my time comes? Would I shit in my pants? Would I even be allowed the dignity of being dressed when the time comes? Or Would I be waiting for it patiently, knwoing that the time's come? Would I be full of grace leaving at the departure gate of this planet?

I've witnessed a few deaths in my life, people that I loved quite a bit. The first was my grandfather (father's side), but I was really too small to realize the implications. But I remember it was a fit of tremendous rage to remove all the intravenous drips and the catheter. An old old man getting up with a furious burst of energy pulling all these cords out of his body, and then in a moment just going limp, falling back, face totally devoid of expression. The doctors termed it a major heart attack (or was it a stroke)...

Second time I witnessed death was when my grandmother (mother's side) crossed over to the other side. This time I was a bit older (though not that much), and in all reality much more attached to her. You see in her failing times she stayed in my room for a while, and it was nice to have her there, although she had forgotten more or less everything, but did recongize a thing of two when I pulled some act to cheer her up or just shut her up...oh I am so sorry for that...

I remember death coming slowly to her. Doctors had already sent her home, nothing they could do...I remember her breathing most, I mean she was breathing, then the breathing got quicker, louder, and then even louder. At the end it was the breathing of an 18 year old after a 20 mile run. So strong, I never thought her frail chest was capable of that. And then it ended in these little wheezes.

She drifts away...

Third and last time was the recent past, when my favourite uncle passed away. Now this was probably the most paranormal of all. I was staying with him at the hospital in the nights, with his son. I remmeber he was taken to the hospital in very bad shape, and he improved there, became stable. It's strange how weak the lungs of these tall strong men were!

Anyway the doctors even sent him home for Eid. So that he could spend it with family. The eid was good, the ending of it wasn't. I remember him asking me at the end of the day that he'd just need two more days of my time, and since he was doing so well, of course he meant two days to recovery. Right sure. So late that night we took him back to the hospital. Exactly two days later just after he was in the best of spirit; he got off his bed, came sat with us on our bench, complimented the slippers I wore, and then he got up and sat down on the ground. We asked him why he was doing that. His reply was simple, he did not need beds anymore! Exactly two hours later he was dead, exactly two days after he asked for another two days from me. What I remember about his passing was that in his last moment he did not break eye contact with his younger son (they always had a special link, like from a De Maurier novel), and just kept looking into them, without blinking as life lost him. But he was always calm and collected, looking into the eyes of his beloved son...

Now how would this inevitable passage be for me? Would it be in the bounds of a rage? Would it be when I am scared witless and shaking? Would it be that I'd know the time's come and accept it, and move on? Of course I can't say! I hope it's the last, but I'd never know till I know I guess! Ha ha. But the question I'm thinking about mostly is that would I want the ones I love and cherish around me at that moment?

See death is probably when you are most vunerable after your birth. Totally defenseless, in the middle of the grandest stage, stark naked, having forgotten all the lines and the name of the play! Now the people I love, I adore are also the people I hope love and adore me. And with love and adoration comes respect. I would want them to respect me the way I respect them. And I would want them to remember me as I am today, looking up to the rising sun, running hard...the good run.

I wouldn't want them to remember me at that final moment where I'd probably have no control over myself...

So yes, when it is time to go, I'd rather go alone, walk the final walk with myself to give me company. And if it's an exit that is graceful then I would always remember that about me, and if not, then I'm sure I'll keep my own little secert!

Time shall tell!