The fear of losing some one!!

Yesternight I was watching a telugu movie called ‘Gamyam’- the movie though a small budget film turned out be a eye opener on the theme of life. The film portrays the journey of a spoil brat millionaire transforming into a  human, through a series of heart touching incidents in his life. There’s one dialogue in the climax, which really made me think ‘At the time of death there will be no pain, but only a pinch grief for leaving his beloved behind for the other world’.

At every moment, we do have the inherent fear of losing our beloved, our close to heart- the fear which is more darker than any sort of fears. We feel that our parents, children, our dearest friends should be with us for the rest of life. Losing them!! should not be anywhere in the corner of our life.

But life has something different for everyone, something tricky that even a wizard can’t understand.  As Shakespeare said’ The world is a drama stage’, Every one comes to play their god scripted role and go back to the screens. The eternal drama of life goes on even without me or you…!!

I had seen lot of people, who literally spoiled their life, their presence when they had lost their beloved. They led their rest of lives in the memoirs of the departed. Life should go on!!  The departed have left a responsibility of living their rest of life through our smiles, through our joys.

I’d experienced tons of harsh moments since my childhood. Most of my beloved, including my parents departed from my life and from this world. But they have left me some inherent responsibilities of living their life, passion through living my life fully. I dedicate most of my smiles in a day to my beloved. I want them to live their dreams through me. I think that’s the way of living one’s life.

Check this beautiful poem below:

The flowering peach,
a daughter’s bloom,
each February
she lived
in tiny pink bud.

Her tree fed my memory,
flitted across my vision
with nectar so sweet with sorrow
that the sky wept.

Oh, such weight
the delicate pink
butterfly flower held.
It took her place somehow
and lived for her each year.

A tree-gift from the fluttering
girls and boys of second grade,
now almost middle aged
with children named
Michelle, perhaps.

She will always be eight,
the bright and moving child
of my youth,
so spark and full of fire.
The first that captured my heart
and held it,
she holds it still.

She died again this fall, Michelle,
her leaves turned and bid a final
tremble to the ground.
The tree no longer lives,
just a sentinel stark and bleak
its gamine trunk.

But
under the canopy that burned
my heart again
from brown and rotting leaves
emerges the everlasting
circle of creation,
a fragile new beginning
strong with claims of yes.