DEATH

Diwali Can Be A Deadly Drug

The increasingly frequent blasts slicing the blanketed murmur of nature during this Diwali reminded me of what this festival has come to be equated with—noise. Not the pleasant kind, but the kin...
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My Life Is Like A Jain Monk’s, But My Penance Is Tougher

I was lucky that in my time spent with Jain monks, they did give me their attention. It was interesting to sit with them and see how my journey and theirs had so many parallels. We both had left our societal ties and commercial world in the pursuit of something greater. We had walked barefoot for countless miles, eating our meals between sunrise and sunset. But there was one drastic difference.
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The Clarity Of Dying

My father is dying. I watch him in his hospital bed, his face alternately contorted in pain and peacefully asleep. He has lost 10 kilos in the last year. The needles leave dents in his skin and every day, another machine wheels in and clicks on, taking another part of my father. I look for clarity everywhere. In newspapers, in magazines, in books, in the Gita, the Dhammapada, the Bible, the Koran. But I don't understand any of them.