Wandering

What a dark, depressing day. The newspapers are full of blood, death and destruction. There is an air of sadness everywhere. The Mumbai terror strike has effectively halted the festive spirit that had begun to creep in on us. To make things worse, we’ve been having terrible weather this past week, dark cloudy sky, and light showers almost every day. The only thing I hate more than a cold winter day is a cold, rainy winter day. All plans have come to a screeching halt. I don’t think I would ever step outside this weekend, temporary hibernation for 2 days. I would drink endless cups of tea, catch up with my reading, listen to 80’s songs, order pizza and watch movies until my eyes pop out.

These days it seems like everywhere I look, I see sadness. I didn’t mean to sound so pessimistic but that’s the way it is. I called up home and was told there was a death in the community, the tenth this year. I used to think death was something that happened only to other people, to other families. But now I realized it can happen to me, to my family. My father had a mild heart attack last week and when my sister called me early in the morning I was immediately filled with fear. Fear of something that I cannot name, fear that completely took over all other emotions, fear that gripped me and made everything look bleak and dark. Looking back, I think it was the fear of losing someone dear, someone who has been there all my life; fear of being left alone, fear of having to start a new chapter. Fear of the unknown future. Fear of having no one to turn to. Fear of having to make all the decisions myself. Fear of being the grown-up.

I am scared of death. Of dying. Of not existing anymore. Of losing everything we have worked so hard for in that one moment when our hearts stop beating. Let me also admit that sometimes I’d think “what if I don’t go to heaven?” What if nobody remembers me? What if this is the end of everything?

Sometimes I’d doubt the existence of heaven. I know I sound un-Christian and non-believing but this is something I’ve thought about a lot. What if we were wrong all along? What if everything ends as soon as we die? Or what if Hindus and Buddhists were right and our lives get recycled over and over again until we attain perfection? What if my actions and deeds today influence the form I will take in my next life? What if I could only be freed from this cycle once I am sinless and pure in thought and action? What if everything in this life and the next depends on my karma? Is everything predestined, written in the stars?

Then again my Christian roots would come to my rescue. I have seen with my own eyes people who came back from the dead, listened with my ears the stories of their tour of heaven, read their description of the glory of God and of heaven, and would once again realize that yes, this is it, this is the real thing, this is what we are living for.