I wanted to end.
‘End’ is a funny thing, sometimes it is what we long for and sometimes it is what we fear the most. I have always lived with a principle that death is a beautiful thing. There is no running away from it, no matter whatever we do, no matter how much knowledge we acquire, no matter how much respect we gain or wealth we gather, at the end we will have to embrace death. That is the one and only thing we are destined for. Every person we see, everyone we know will die someday, and that is the truth we often forget to recall ourselves. I have always believed that there is nothing after death. No heaven, no hell. It’s just the end of everything. All that we wanted; all that we wished for; all that we lived for ends with death. It is forgotten. We simply lose our existence.
But now, these beliefs seemed just like some great words to draw one’s eye away from my failure. It seemed as if it was a way I tried to look into the world so that I can save myself from the truth: I was a failure. I was a person who gave away his life, his thoughts to a meaningless vault filled with nothingness, and still considered himself great in his own way. I regret my life. I regret everything I did to prove myself to be someone I was not. What I regret the most is to understand now that life is actually so simple and so obvious that it is all about enjoying the simplest pleasures of it, and not about expecting and dreaming something that is in one way or another impossible. I have seen the world, observed it.
Everyone is so busy running around to be someone great, someone extra-ordinary that they give up things that would have made them happier then things they settle for, “things” that everyone except you think would make you happy. In this boundless universe, we are some tiny creatures living in a planet, creatures that are hardly even visible from sky and we expect so much of us. This idea amuses me.
I dreamed of so much, but now it has to end because my dreams killed my reality. I stared at the night sky, it was magnificent. The way the stars gleamed from such a distance; a distance that I cannot even ever measure. I looked down below at the unkind, ruthless ocean. I knew that once I presented myself to it, it wouldn’t spare me. The very beauty of it that we are astonished upon would take the course of vengeance and my soul would be lost in its endless depth; but this is it.
For once in my life, I have been sure of something and I won’t let myself down. I took a deep breath. I tried to remember my first kiss, the first time I saw my parents proud of me, the first time someone showed me respect. The only evidence to my death would be the sky so I looked at it; I looked into the bright night sky which had no remorse or reminisce of the tears I cried or the regrets I shared below it. I thought of it; would anyone remember me after I was lost? Maybe my mother, maybe she would still stare at the forlorn street leading to our house with her eyes searching for me, maybe she would still weep silently at night and think of me. Will Aakshi think of me? I wondered. I wish I could see her once again. I wish I could see her smile once again. I was satisfied. I convinced myself that I will be remembered. I knew I might be wrong, my mother might hate me and curse me for all I made her go through and Aakshi might have even forgotten me; but I convinced myself and let go. I closed my eyes and just let go.
I felt the breeze touch my face as I descended into my death. I could feel the pace at while I was falling, but it wasn’t exciting. It felt like a long time. I didn’t open my eyes even once, I kept them closed and waited for me to lose the ability to open them forever. My body touched the saline water, the water that will pay me solace. I couldn’t feel any pain. My body got numb. I was cold. My entire life flashed before my eyes. The resilience of water is unbelievable. One can never experience it until he gives himself to the water without the slightest of movements, until he presents himself to be devoured by water. I felt the water pushing me back to the surface and then again pulling me inside it. I didn’t fight. All I wondered about was what would happen after I die; I knew it would end but still, like every other person, I too was afraid of the great and unknown. I felt the lack of air in my lungs. I was out of breath, I was suffocating. I was further being pulled inside the ocean as if it wanted me more than anything. It warped around me like the arms of an old lover. I was losing my consciousness. I opened my eyes; I tried to move to the surface. I wanted to die but I didn’t know why I was doing it.
Why was I trying to fight? I tried to breathe, but water even owned my lungs by then. I knew it was over now, I belonged to the ocean. I wanted to calm down and feel what it like was to be dead. The slight light passing through the water started to fade away. The colourless water, the fizz, everything my eyes could make out started to fade away in darkness. I felt nothing.