I want to die an anonymous death. I don’t want a large gathering of friends and family mourning for me. I’d rather die in a faraway village where nobody knows me and they just bury or cremate my body like a stranger’s.
I don’t like the events after death. The needless parading of my corpse, the public display of grief. It’s my death and I don’t want people to make it their loved one’s death. Sorrow should be private — in words or memories, not a public spectacle that a funeral is. There should be no grave, no ashes to preserve. My body should return to earth in its most pristine form and my legacy shouldn’t have the bodily form attached to it. My legacy should be the things I created, without my name on them. The quest for immortality isn’t in the name being immortal but the creation. Look at life for instance. It’s life that’s eternal, passes on from one generation to another, without fail, without its creator being pinned down.-
Nothing makes us wish to live longer
than having the reason for our living near
and death, nearer.-
Twilight
doesn't really
enthrall me,
It's just the sadness
of the fading Sun,
Tired, with the
whole day's toil,
Filled with nothing
but morbidity.-
I was touched by a tinge of light
But there was fear of it fading
Fear of having back those morbid thoughts
The whispers in my ears make me turn back
It grabs my attention and I fall again
Like I am possessed
Like it's my home
Like it's where I belong
Like that's where I finally return
Sometimes I like to fall inside this abyss
and live in this silence, stay there for some unknown time
My thoughts wrestling with eachother
For in the darkness is where I dwell,
In the darkness is where I get lost and find myself
In the darkness is where I find my answers-
Thorns are the waiting
Fragrance is the meeting
Love is the blood red
With the morbidity of death.
-
Folklure #4
Museum of Morbidity
There is museum in the alpine forests of Norway I heard,
Which showcases the taxidermied bodies of dead
In the very positions they left their lives
Encased in glass, we see their final strife
I took a stroll on aisle of dead
Following where the curator led
A placard in hands, they all held
To read the reason for their death
"I was shot through head"
A headless one said.
"I was hacked to pieces"
Said one, dismembered.
"I ate poison" said
One who killed herself.
"He's right behind you",
A knife went through my chest.
The curator's hand, bloodied, touched
My neck and choked me out of breath.
The museum is cursed, they all say
Whoever visits, forever remains.
-
ये प्यार के समंदर का
कभी हम भी बादशाह हुआ करते थे
जो हमें तकलीफ़ देते थे
हम तो उसके लिए भी ख़ुशी की दुआ करते थे-
Death teases
With promises of
A better belonging
Dangling a sweet sense of escape
Tempting-
In an existential crisis,
It feels like a fancy word for not knowing what to do with life,
Too much like sugar-coating the bitter truth,
It seems like the world's traveling so fast,
And I'm a passenger on the window-side of the train,
Observing the people bustling around,
Going on about their busy lives,
With no time to spare for those around,
Some building their careers, some building their families,
While I'm here, for a lack of a better word- doing nothing,
No idea where life's headed,
No idea about anything and a don't care attitude -
To make things evern worse,
Going down and down in a thought spiral that never seems to end,
That's so alluring, it pulls me deep like gravity,
Gasping for air, I want to snap out of it,
But I remember, I don't really have a purpose,
What's the point, I let the waves pull me in.
-
Keeping score of deaths
Plagued by Corona virus
Has consumed the world-