The Unsung Anthems

Celebrating life is a form of release everyone loves to indulge in. People have Valentine's day, Mother's day, Father's day to remind their loved ones once a year how much they care by buying them flowers, scraps of colorful paper and flavored chocolate. For the rest of the 364 days, who gives a fuck! Then there are the intellectuals who like to sound as though their knowledge is everclear with a point of view worthy of scholars. Abstract forms of art, discussions amounting to nothing and esoteric tastes make these fools sound like they are intelligent. And then there are the wannabes. What more can I say?

There must only be a handful people thinking about the other side and contemplating what happens to those who have passed on. Am I one of them? More than the worry of what happens beyond, it is the ever passing moment of grief that I am concerned with. We live, people around us influence our lives, show us ways and then fade away. In what seems to be a flash, everything that was a part of them, their life, their very existence becomes a cold lifeless reminder of what used to be. It's just an emptiness that lingers on. Each and every item, material and article that used to be associated with that individual remains lifeless and cold. There are no changes from the final day.

And this is the cruel experience, a constant reminder that the dead are dead and gone. Nothing can bring them back; not a box of chocolates, not a bouquet of flowers and neither wails of disbelief and uncontrollable grief. So as long as the people around you who care are still alive, give them your best. It's not important to show how much you care, but to ensure that they know, you do. Even today I miss him. Every single thought, every passing moment where in I have the time to stop and think ends with a sigh of disbelief. I don't cry anymore, but I dont feel any good either.