Death bed Love

I have been on the lookout for an apt, my genre sort of writing topic for my new blog post when I conceived the idea of "Deathbed love'. This was three days back. Though the thought was quite disturbing I still felt that I would be labeled as the ones who choose the topic to get more page views more out of sympathy. Though I have experienced deathbed love I was embarrassed to accept that I did not act and was amongst the ones who say “we should ", “I will” etc and not going out there and do it.

Though it started as a simple topic to write a blog post no one really cares today, it has become an important lesson for me. And it is my duty to pass it on to a lot of readers. My duty is to send out the message to Accept and Change.

Today I lost my friend. A very close friend of mine told me about his death. I was too shaken to believe .We had a lot of common friends it was impossible for me to have not known. But it happened today.
I repeated
"He was close".
A very sweet, energetic, excited about life and pleasant chap.
"He was close”
I repeated to establish my closeness to the other friend.

The friends on social networking sites increase and your cliques are too many to follow; Schools, colleges, work, common friends and their friends. I tried to recall how I knew him. I knew him through many inadvertent ways; same professional stream, another best friend's classmate, junior from a friend’s college, same religion and clan, Malayali and lot more. I tried to recall our last meeting. Was it at his workplace or was it at a party?

He is no more and digesting this fact was the most difficult part and the fact that I will not be able to talk to him ever, even if I had all the time in the world.

I remembered all the false promises of baking for him, i couldn't recall the last time I picked up the phone and called him.
Though weeks back I did think of him and how he fared .I assumed he was happy in his life, holidaying abroad, and partying hard somewhere.

I felt ashamed of myself. Why was I ever busy for my friends?

My story of death bed love doesn't start here. It goes way back to my under graduation where I did a documentary on Goa and its crafts .I had found a rare CD of Goan Konkani folk songs. My mentor at college had asked me many a times to give her a copy of the same. I never had time. Never till I realized by death bed love for her standing next to her dead body and wailing.


When my grandfather passed away I stood with a guilty heart because I never visited them enough .Did I have the time? I did? Lots of it.


Why do we not realize our duties and commitment to our dear fellow beings .And as our circles grow, new people enter our lives and the old ones vanish! We wish wellbeing for them and we assume that they are all faring well in life. How many of us are aware of our close ones suffering? I accept! I don't because I never took the effort of finding out. Why? Today I have my new city, new job, new friends and the ones who were “new” before doesn't matter They were your full time friends not they are partly missed or social networking friends.

Death is easy for the ones who die. I have always believed that after they die they reach a pinnacle of freedom and happiness and are suffocated by the fact that they cannot come back and tell us how beautiful life is out there. Life out there is beautiful and it is guaranteed.

Deathbed love is the intense point of selfishness. On the first place you never did your duties, secondly you don't want to come in terms with reality that you will not be able to reach out to the person to help support and just be a companion.
When death of a close one happens I pacify myself by saying two things - firstly it is easy for them and it is my selfishness to let them go.
And secondly by being sad and unhappy I am making it difficult for them to leave.


I rushed to church yesterday in the process of trying to digest my friend’s death. There was a sermon in progress and I waited, I didn’t go In. I walked around aimlessly till the mass got over and stepped into the empty silent church.

I sat there and observed that there were two others sitting in the church. Both had troubled faces with wrinkles.

I looked at God and said “Listen, you have to listen to me! Not to anyone else but me. Like a child who wanted attention and I was confident I could get it from him. I felt he listened to me .I said for God’s sake and smiled and cleared my throat again as tears rolled down my cheek. For your sake!

You can’t do this!!!! If you have done this, then it better be for something good.
And there was a success and a feeling of having accomplished something. Maybe, winning a conversation.