Death

How do you feel when you hear the word death? Uneasy? Scared? Indifferent? Helpless? For some, the thought evokes a quiet discomfort; for others, it’s too heavy to even consider. Some believe in an afterlife, others in complete disintegration. As for what’s closer to the truth—no one really knows.

Our courtship with death begins the moment we are born. A steady, inescapable companion. And yet, the idea of death strikes us as harsh. But why? Is it the pain? The uncertainty? Or the sheer permanence of loss? There’s something about this inevitable reality that casts a shadow on our minds, even at its mere mention.

Let me try to explore these apprehensions with what little understanding I have.

First, there’s the belief that dying involves immense suffering. But I wonder—are we really capable of the same emotions during death as we are while anticipating it? In the initial moments, perhaps there is restlessness or anxiety, as with any major life change. But soon, mental faculties begin to dull, bodily functions slow down, and emotions lose their sharpness. In those final moments, I believe, there’s not much pain left—only a quiet acceptance, as “We all must die one day” turns into “I must die now.”

Then comes the fear of uncertainty. What happens next? Is there an afterlife? Are we judged? Reincarnated? I don't claim to have the answers—no one truly does. There are many theories, religious and philosophical alike. I have one too: why worry about what happens after death, when the very entity that worries—the thinking, feeling self—will cease to exist in the way we know it? Curiosity is natural, but perhaps not always useful. Even if something of us lives on, it likely defies the logic of human constructs like punishment, reward, right, or wrong. I may not be religious, but I believe in a higher power—something beyond comprehension, beyond description. I’m open to the idea of afterlife, reincarnation, karma, heaven and hell—but none of these, to me, are absolutes. They’re possibilities, not certainties.

And finally, there’s the pain of permanent loss. As humans, we form deep bonds—we love, empathize, and connect. Losing someone we love, with the knowledge that they are never coming back, is one of the hardest things to endure. The memories, the place they held in our lives, their smile, their touch, their quirks—all stay with us. They bring tears, yes, but also warmth. Healing comes, slowly but surely. It takes time and patience. And a belief that the weight of grief will eventually lighten. It’s not easy—but it’s necessary. Understanding what’s within our control and what isn’t is the first step toward peace.

In the end, death isn’t necessarily something we must obsess over. Nor must we fear it so intensely. It doesn’t have to be gruesome or ominous. Perhaps, if we focus on living well—on finding joy, love, meaning—we will be ready, whenever the courtship ends.