On Death.
I am typing this while nursing a headache. Maybe not massive enough to stop me from typing but still enough for me to grit my teeth every now and then when the throbbing ache comes around.
Nothing like a spot of
sickness to remind you of your mortality. That your flesh is slowly breaking
down until finally it is food for worms and bones for the ground. That ours is
a brief existence, our 60-70 years on earth (if we are lucky) are but mere
momentary spark in the darkness of space. A blip in the steady march of Time.
I read somewhere that the moment
our firstborn comes into this world, after the joy of having someone bearing
your surname had tapered off the next thing a man thinks of would be of his
end. We ought to. The birth of a son or a daughter was a crossing of an unseen
threshold in time. That part of our reason of being has been fulfilled now that
we have a progeny. All there is left to do is to ensure to the best of our
abilities that our family will survive and if possible, thrive. In modern
context, we are to weather remainder of our time with its never ending cycles
of bills and payments, building that financial foundation for our children and
our family. Gathering all we can in preparation for that inevitable day when we
are no longer there. In between all that, trying to find the meaning of it all
or to give meaning to it all.
The long and short of it is
that we are born, we find our mate, we procreate, all this while things happen
to us. Then we die. At least that is the case with male praying mantis. Quaere:
What does one call a mantis who had lost his or her faith? Lapsed mantis?
Atheist mantis?
The only difference between a
landfill and a graveyard is that the latter is full of rituals and tears and
headstones. Let us not forget the headstones. Speaking of headstones, it is
said (can’t remember who) that the first steps towards civilization began the
moment our ancestors developed elaborate death rituals, burials and belief (or
beliefs) in the afterlife. But how come for all the advances we have made in
the sciences the belief in life after death is no longer the thing? Maybe we
have shifted our belief from the intangible to the tangible. From the heaven
and hell to dollars and cents. The ATM is our altar, the offering is our bank
cards. The afterlife is the better life promised in television advertisements
or radio jingles. After all, why yearn for that pie in the sky when a real one
will do? Or could it be that all this chase for bigger and better things is
just our coping mechanism, our way of distracting ourselves from the
inevitable.
A painting will crack and lose
it’s luster, an iron sword will rust away. Flowers bloom and then wither and
rot away. Just like me. I will die, we all will. It is the way of the world.
The difference is or how we act in the face of it. I dare not say that I will
be brave in the face of it for I really do not know. Come to think of it, it is
like a trial or hearing that you dread and try to prepare for. At least you
know the trial date in advance and trial dates can be vacated and rescheduled
again. Not Death.
That final frontier. It can
be anytime and for whatever cause. No one has ever come back from it to let us
know how it was yet millions had passed through its gates. All descriptions of
it are either theories or articles of faith. Disembodied intellect, atoms in
the void or the sleep of the dead (if you are lucky) before the Final
Accounting and onwards to Heaven or Hell, take your pick. Whatever you hold the
Next Thing After Death to be, Death it is also the final lesson in growing up.
That one day our fathers and our mothers will no longer be around to sooth us in
our moments of pain, to impart us their wisdom when we are in doubt or to nag
at us when we truly needed it. All will end. All shall end.
In Havamal
verses 77-78 it is written thus:
Deyr fé,
deyja frændr,
deyr sjalfr it sama,
ek veit einn,
at aldrei deyr:
dómr um dauðan hvern."
In Death, our life will be judged by our fellow Man whether or not you believe in the Next Thing. Judged and then gradually forgotten as tears dry, compassionate leave is used up and life went on and it will go on for the living. The Dead has no business cluttering the life of the living.
Ever since it was mandatory to interact with the Malaysian Bar website for renewal of practicing certificates, I would from time to time look at the In Memoriam section. Partly out of morbid curiosity and partly just to remind myself that some day, it would be my name in the section should I still be practicing at the moment of my demise. It would state in brief where I was practicing and whether or not I was high up in the seniority list of the members. I wonder then what would happen to the briefs I was engaged for, would the client trust my colleague to carry on or would they look for another law firm to represent them. Some days it would be a member of the Bar of some seniority. On another day, it would be someone younger than me. A mother, a father. Someone’s son or daughter. It was their time as it will surely be mine. How then would my family and loved ones fare after my passing? Will they be okay? Will the Lawcare entitlement be of some help to them? But these are worries of the living, not for the Dead. Just like worrying over whether i am making enough.
I do not expect to make a mountain of gold out of my time practicing the Law. Just some means to provide a living for my family and maybe, just maybe give out a little light of hope or defiance to those who need it. Feeble and windblown as it may be. To give some meaning to my brief existence, to be of some use to people around me.
Immortality is an impossibility. It does not exist. Just like the perfect client. But in legal practice there is immortality of sorts. Your bouts in the courts as reported in the law journals, both good and bad. That is, if it is a case of some significance and some future use and if it is reported. But again, why do i care? I'll be dead.
Comments
Post a Comment