Philosophers Longueur a rara avis

One life to live and one death to end it. But there are hundreds of ways, thousands of dreams, millions of desires, countless thoughts, all these and all these just witihin one life, and somewhere on the unknown path stands a quietous blow, though only one, yet enough to demise them all. Despite, all along, all the while, the life brings with it a lots of twists and turns, few meandered with mirth, few convoluted with convulsions and few anfractuous with ado.

Silence and peace are desirous. Often the silence signs in, but at times with colossus of commotions, pheonix of pains, amples of ado, and such a silence is far from being desirous, not even worth a wish, still it does creep in.

How often is this true that "The hands that bear, know the weight". Look at this, the one who is dead rests in peace, but the ones left behind know what the pain is, they are the ones to bear it. Does the dead know what that pain is? Bearing the death alone doesnt end the story, the consequences are invariable more callous, harrowing and dire than the death.

Yes, its true as someone said,
Zindagi to bewaafa hai ek din thukarayegi,
Maut mehbooba hai apni saath lekar jayegi...

But to hark back at the life again,

It is not growing like a tree
in bulk doth make man better be;
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere,
A lily of a day
is fairer in May
Although it fall and die that night,
It was the plant of flower and light,
In small proportions we just beauties see;
And in short measures, life may perfect be.
--Benjamin Johnson

One such lily was our dear friend, who now rests in peace, but long lasting are the impressions that shall along rue in us, and rule the hearts of all the kiths and kins that our friend deserted. Though the life span was short, the life was defintely sweet and beautiful enough to cherish and blossom the smiles of the companions, kindle the vigor in all the confreres, who got the chance to sail along with that lily.

The bottom line of this experience exemplifies that, No man has lived for ever and no man shall live forever, but the truth is all of them lived and will live, albeit the era, the mode, the mien, the merit, make and the magnitude vary. Neither the birth nor the death are willfull, but definitely the life, may not be in terms of amplitude but surely with its arete. Life may be ephemeral but the imprints of its aretes are eternal. That life is worth, which enlightens and kindles the light and spirit of life in atleast one life, before getting doused.