Death, be not surprised

Sometimes, I can sense death out there.
Not yours or anybody else’s, but my own.
I close my eyes and like a figure emerging from the mist still some way off, I sense its presence.
If I close my eyes and breathe deeply for long enough I can almost paint the sketch, or write up the first draft of events leading up to my demise.
I would have to change my life drastically to make the eventuality of death something of a surprise for myself.
Other than that, the reaper does not look so grim.
But I certainly do.

Death, confusion

And just like that, I find myself in Pune. This time death brought me home. In fact, this is the first death I have experienced where the person in question was truly close to me. The first funeral where the burial of the person, and the vacuum thereafter, was truly tangible.
Only clichés swim around in my mind right now. That’s because they are all true, I guess. I tried to pinpoint the moment someone’s death sinks in – the call that comes to inform, the moments after, the grave being filled…
Death does this for sure – it confuses everything.