I fear death, yet I talk of it

They say, a person who talks a lot of dying becomes dear one of the death soon. Perhaps, it is true. Perhaps it isn’t. I know everyone fears death and fears talking of it. I fear as well. At times just a mere thought of dying sends chills through my spinal chords yet I know nothing will stop us from being a slave of death. I fear, as I see someone die. I fear facing a dead body. I fear somebody talking of death, yet can these phenomena stop us from dying?

I wish i lived long. I wish my dreams were materialized and that I walked the path many successful souls on earth have walked. My parents who have brought me up, expended their life and sacrificed their comforts have dream about me. They think more about my future than I do. They are more concerned than I am. Perhaps will have a time to serve my parents the way I have planned for. Perhaps, like a fading ink in the midst of a sentence with a comma or a semicolon, our life might have to stop. Where the full stop is or the end of a sentence is, in our life, it is tough to find.

Sometimes as I lie down on the bed and lights are off, a big question mark blinks on my head. Will I survive the next day or will I not know I am dying then? I know our life has no guarantee and certainty is certainly absent as to when the death would drag us. I have dreams in my heart-some wild ones while some pleasing ones. I have a desire to be a man. I want to see the world better yet, who knows the secret plan of fate? I fear to close my eyes. It said that, at times what the open eyes don’t see, the closed ones do. I don’t know if I have seen death closely in life but when I close my eyes to sleep I certainly do visualize how it would be.

I fear the time when I might have to lie on the dead bed and go back in flashbacks. My dear parents, siblings, and relatives-will they be with me? Will I have a chance to die an easy death? That time when I will be suffering with  a pain of not being able to see the people I want to see, the things I have not achieved, I fear that my breathe will not stop easily. The unfinished dreams, unturned stones and the unmet people will hold the breath before it fades. I wish I died I death that won’t give a second to think of anything.