I don’t want to write about Death anymore. The last time I wrote, I gained a bucket full of empathy from the readers. It’s kind of good to know that people care and that they care enough to give their condolences. But somehow I find myself in an awkward position when they gift me their nicely wrapped empathy. I don’t know why. Well, that’s really not the point.
I don’t really know what people mean when they say death is overrated. Death, to me, is something which creates a void inside you. People who say death is overrated, haven’t lost someone very close to them. I know this for a fact. I lost someone extremely close to me like two-three years ago. That time, I didn’t know how to feel about it. All I knew was that when I would return home, she wouldn’t be the one serving me water. My mom would do that. She wouldn’t be there to ask me again and again to explain why the fuck do I smell so awful after a night out. No one was never gonna ask me that again. That kinda sucked. But I adjusted. I tried adjusting. I felt death isn’t overrated after all.
Today, my uncle passed away. I was not very close to him or anything, but he was the father of the guy with whom I used to play with in my childhood. Like I can’t remember my school life without that guy. Every day after school, we had a routine to play video games in his house. His father used to see us playing. Sometimes he would also make an occasional Maggi and he would get all excited and happy seeing us fighting for that Maggi, as in we used to fight about who eats faster from the same plate. That’s the only memory I have of that man. I saw his son today; he was all in tears. But I was feeling kinda nothing. Nothing means not a thing. It was strange. I felt death indeed is overrated. I mean I was the same guy who used to think that death isn’t overrated. All of the sudden, I tried remembering all the members of my family who passed away after my sister’s death. I failed. That’s when I realised the existence of a void inside me. A void which was created right after my sister’s death. A void which is absorbing all the sadness, to be precise, any sadness related to death. A void which has made me insensitive. A void which shouldn’t be there. But it is. After all, death isn’t overrated, I guess. I mean you lose a person and with all this void thing which you can’t avoid, it gets really difficult to try not to be insensitive.
I will be going to that brave man’s funeral tomorrow and I have no idea what I will say when I’ll meet his son. I mean, I don’t know if I should crack jokes to lighten up the mood or if i should show my
sympathy empathy to make him feel awkward. I don’t know how I’d feel about it. Hoping that it wouldn’t be more awkward than this write up.
And one more thing. Dear Cancer, get the fuck out of our lives already, you freaky bastard.