DAY 119

Death. The word has never evoked fear in me. But from the time I could remember the word has only evoked in me a sense of going back home. And that is beautiful sensation. I have always believed that when my time in this world comes to an end I would be going back home, up in the sky, behind the fluffy white clouds.

The thought always cheered me. It still does.

Now don't get me wrong. I have no morbid (no pun intended) fascination with dying or death.

To me it is as mandatory as breathing. You breathe without thinking about it.

So is death. It will come calling when it has to. So why stress over it.

But death is something that bothers everyone. It is either about, What will happen to me after I die? Or what will happen to my loved ones after I die?

A more simplistic answer would be -Life would go on and so would you.

But then we are human beings, we like to complicate things.

My loved ones wonder - what will happen to her (i.e moi) after she dies?

When I hear their thoughts being whispered in their heads, I laugh.

You see they are worried about what to do with the physical body of mine after the soul departs.

Born as a Hindu I lived the life of a practicing Hindu for the first 25 years of my life. Then I chose to become a Christian.

The loved ones thought - well, at least she can get a Tombstone in the Christian cemetry.

Then came a time when I ceased to be neither a Hindu, nor a Christian.