If I ever write an autobiography, this will be the last page.
I always thought of death as a painful encounter but now, as my dark night draws closer, I no longer fear. Now, on the contrary, it strikes me extraordinarily that regardless of the fact that we all know we are going to die one day, we do everything with an intention to avoid death. I believe that death is our final destination, no matter how we reach to it. For me, I would like to end my journey, my quest, with a smile on the face and contentment in the heart.
Though they say I have achieved a lot, but have I done enough? Is there anything left? Have I been able to accomplish the task I was meant to? What if this I was never meant for this? What if I deviated from my purpose? Is this where I expected myself to be when I chose this path of life? Is this what God had planned for me? Thinking about all this, I find myself staring into dark emptiness. I have no answer.
I remember the times, when I was a child, I used to say –“I want to make a difference to this world. I want to achieve big; do great deeds in the life ahead.” To quite an extent, I think I was able to make it, may be not to the world, but at least to the people around me. I would feel happy enough to know if I had been able to catch a few tears and lend a few smiles to the disheartened faces.
Now, I spend my days, mostly with my family, reliving all the past memories. But sometimes, away from the agitated, perturbed world, I linger down to the valley, admiring the serenity of the dawn, lost in the feeble music of the leaves rustling, the birds chattering and the river babbling. It gives me an unexplained peace and contentment.
I stare into the sunset behind the canopy, which, someday, will bring to me the sunset of my life.