Feels of My Death – Part I

Death is an escape. No matter how many times you die before shutting off for a little longer, or how many people die along the cause, death is an eternal bliss.

Life, on the other hand is a veridical extrapolation, nonchalant collaboration, untimed perfection, rectified submission, oh wait, did I mention life. But, but… Death is an escape. An escape from an eternal misery. There are people who ask me why do I italicize ‘death’ so much. They ask me why do I always amplify ‘the end of times’. People talk too much. And I, I always had my imagination come into business. I scorchingly mastered the art of penning confusing stuffs with a proficient and ‘not-so-cursive’ but, clean handwriting.

But, despite fooling my heart for years in its foregoes, there was still a battle of lone rangers to hustle. ‘Still’ has always been a word that is stored in my subconscious along with verbs that end with ‘ing’. ‘Still asking’, is the first of them all.

“Why do I always bear a soul?” I asked myself despite the answer was known. But, to silence my enormously raging brain, I let it question my soul, my conscience about the lingering drops of solitudes at the helm of my eyeslashes.

And amidst all of these ‘trying and denying’, at the end of the day, know that it can shut off any moment, anytime. In trying to practice Islam, I learned a lot more deepening fallacies about death and more of the practicality of death instead. I will share a few humourous incidents I came across and a few of the genuinely awesome modalities.

Stay tuned. I am coming back with ‘DEATH’.

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