He might jump off.
Shit!
Shit!
I wish I had seen it before — in real life — and not only in movies.
I wish I had someone beside me — someone who could respond spontaneously, unlike me, who over analyzes every possibility just to avoid getting involved, fearing he might have to take responsibility for how things turn out.
Setting aside myself, I see events from far away — from someone else’s eyes, from someone else’s perspective.
It’s a disease.
Thinking on someone’s behalf is a disease.
Setting aside myself, I see events from far away — from someone else’s eyes, from someone else’s perspective.
It’s a disease.
Thinking on someone’s behalf is a disease.
Sometimes, after intimate sexual activity, I ponder upon the woman’s expectations of me. Then, the pleasurable moment turns into a pang of guilt that enslaves my indifferent mind.
Is this behaviour just to neutralize the pleasure I get after ejaculation?
Is it normal?
Am I normal?
Perhaps.
I remember the last time I felt that I hurt someone.
One last stroke. I pulled out and quickly laid it across her abdomen. I pressed my groin as hard as possible against her body until my ankles weakened and my body was filled with sensations. The next moment, the viscous, liquid seed was all over her flat stomach. Some of it was trickling down along her waistline. She held it; otherwise, who would wash the bed sheet? I looked at her — the wavy hair fanned out, the big, glistened eyes carrying a hope that I would stay with her like this, always. How could I tell her that one day her hope, however beautiful, would die.
She raised her brows. I uttered, “Nothing.”
I realized, “she's definitely a destructive desire.”
And at this moment…
Watching a man probably contemplating suicide, my body responds strangely. The heart races — already weary from dragging the harsh truths of life — live uncomfortably to live comfortably.
But life…
It all feels pointless.
You live for others, but not for yourself.
One day, you die.
The rights. The wrongs blur into nothing.
The sacrifices, the stress, and the endless miseries — they shrink into insignificance.
Amidst all thoughts of life, death, and philosophy, my head didn’t fail to remind me that half my salary will disappear into the EMI tomorrow.
Forget about the EMI — I see a man who is standing on the edge and might jump.
The muscle in my neck tenses. I force a lump of saliva down my throat. The warm, arid air makes it uncomfortable to stand on the roof.
Monotony killed me a long time ago. But now all of a sudden, witnessing someone may end himself, the bag of bones feels alive. The senses are heightened. I glance around — tall, brightly-illuminated buildings and 153 AQI. The city appears blurry as if my eyes had a resolution of merely 2 megapixel.
I observe the man.
Not moving, the man is on the parapet of the roof. His entire body is balanced on one foot.
What about the other one?
It is in the air, slightly above the surface. It seems that he’s ready to let go of his body and fall freely. It only requires a furious gust of wind to imbalance him. Then he, in fact, sleeps in the lap of death.
But…
Why am I part of this? Why do I have to see all of this? The modern, corporate slavery is itself so stressful that my life is better off without these disturbing visuals.
Coming here was definitely a mistake.
Now I think…
I shouldn’t’ve avoided my coworkers for some selfish moments.
I shouldn’t’ve thought of smoking alone.
I shouldn’t’ve calculated the time he would take to reach the ground if jumped — 2.4 seconds approximately.
Hold on!
He looks familiar.
This guy works at my office. Marketing, maybe? Or PR?
That gorgeous woman — I’ve seen this man with her.
What’s his name? I don’t know.
And that woman, Rashi Pant. She heads the Learning & Development department.
A coworker once showed me her instagram account. The username was @pantrashi. Her posts were chic and made me blurt, “She is expensive. I would have to mortgage my ancestral property to maintain her.”
But what about this man?
Should I intervene and stop him from taking his own life?
If yes… how?
I should shout.
Should I say, “Oi!”
No — too rude. Too jarring.
Or…
I shouldn’t say anything at all, for disturbing him could be a mistake. My presence may startle him and he would slip. And I’d spend my life haunted by the thought that I accidentally killed someone who was about to kill himself.
The night sky above.
Distant stars.
Endless thoughts swirling in my head.
My mind feels like a quicksand — the more I think, the deeper I sink.
Wait…
Does he want to be saved?
To know that, I need to understand why he’s doing this.
Perhaps, he’s living a miserable life and it may get worse in future.
His present: a miserable life
His future: a more miserable life (I guess and he thinks the same as well. That ‘s why he is on the edge of… you know very well)
If he is not sure about his future and he is running away from the hardships in his life, then no doubt he is a coward.
But what’s wrong with ending the torture once and for all?
We choose our struggles. We choose our comforts.
And it’s not necessary to battle every war.
Then why should I intervene and stop him from doing what he wants? To him, ending his life is better than living, and letting him jump might be an act of kindness.
But what about his family, his mother, his partner? Or his father? They will be sad.
So what?
Their feelings; their problems.
Life moves on. It always does.
But…
I remember reading a story once — a mother died of despair after losing her son who had taken his own life.
History repeats itself.
It’s a possibility.
Saving him could save two lives — his and his mother’s.
What if his mother is already dead?
His father may be alive and die because of grief.
Stopping him from jumping off the roof could save two lives — his and his father’s.
But… dependency is wrong.
People are overly reliant on other people.
Suppose I saved him but his father wanted him to be dead. The man, very much alive, reaches home. Upon watching his son unscathed, the father commits suicide.
Again, this is merely a possibility that may or may not occur.
But…
Right now, if I don’t save him, he’ll never know what more life could offer.
But again… is that my responsibility?
My morals are completely weird. Based on my current mind state, if the world were on fire, I wouldn’t stop it.
Why would I? There would be so many emotional people to do that.
If they didn’t care, then why should I?
Besides…
I never wanted to be part of society anyway.
But…
I’m part of society.
And right now, there’s no one else here to stop him.
It’s immoral and unethical to brush off the incident and let the man lose his life. If I have to be ethical and moral, I have to examine the situation — really examine it — through different lenses, through different schools of thought.
I vaguely remember watching a 60 seconds reel on Instagram where a girl was explaining something related to ethics and morals.
She started off with existentialism and said that it favors individual freedom and authenticity and one alone is answerable to whatever options one chooses.
So, in this situation, the man can do whatever he wishes to do with his life, including the choice to end one’s life.
I should respect his decision and not interfere. It creates autonomy.
But… If everyone can just do whatever they want, then the world would be a pretty indecent place.
Then…
Where do we draw the line?
What is allowed?
What is not?
At what point, I should interfere.
Let’s say he weren’t ending his own life… Let’s say he were ending someone else’s.
Would I do nothing?
What if the person he were killing were my sister?
Would I still do nothing?
I would protect my sister, right? Because he can do as he pleases. But my sister has the right to live which I can protect.
And…
If he were killing some stranger, then to save or not to save the stranger is my choice, right?
Right?
She then discussed Deontology — the belief that the morality of an action lies in the action itself, not the outcome. According to this framework, an act must be inherently ethical, even if it leads to pain or harm.
Is suicide considered inherently wrong?
Who said it?
Who decides what wrong is and what right is.
Society.
People.
And people say…
It is an act of cowardice — a sign of defeat. It brings hopelessness, and it often leaves behind grief and unanswered questions.
Besides…
The act of taking one’s own life is a violation of moral duty — a betrayal of one’s obligation to oneself and to others.
The man wants to die.
It’s inherently wrong.
So, I should definitely stop him.
Then the girl said something about utilitarianism — it emphasizes actions that produce the greatest overall well-being.
I don’t remember what else she mentioned in that video.
I feel that the man’s death would bring a moment of grief to the family. The emotional impact on his family and friends could be profound.
But… the consequences could go much deeper, not limiting to kith and kin. His suicide might influence others to choose the same path in times of crisis. This would affect the mental health of the broader community around the family.
Suicide, in many cases, is an ailment—something that can be prevented or treated with external support.
In any problem, it isn’t a solution.
So, it’s my responsibility to step in.
Besides…
He is from my corporate fraternity.
I must save him.
But philosophy isn’t one size fits all. If nothing is absolute, how do I know what I do is right?
If I respect him — his choices, his freedom —- then I must stay silent. I mustn’t intervene.
If I respect morals & ethics, then I am confused because they are subjective and sometimes contradictory in nature. They give me a dilemma.
If I respect others and don’t want to disturb society, then I intervene because society would get uncomfortable if I didn’t.
Suppose — he is facing some money problem and I stop him from jumping.
Do I need to help him then —- money wise? Will it become an ethical obligation to help this person?
What about his family and friends? They can help him if he asks for it.
Maybe, they can’t.
If society gets uncomfortable by his suicide, then why does not society help him? This society has put him in this situation wherein he feels that dying is better than living.
I will just save him right now.
Later, if he dies in my absence, then I don’t care.
These components of philosophy hurt me. Usually I don’t do this much reckoning before making a decision.
This is not a normal situation.
I don’t see it happening everyday.
Is this internal monologue just to stall myself until he does what he wants to do?
Or…
Am I waiting for someone who can respond spontaneously, unlike me, and who becomes part of this and we divide the onus of whatever happens?
redhya!
I need to see how it impacts my life.
I look around.
Still all alone.
redhya, it’s only you who can do something.
I should do something, because it saves his life.
If that’s the case, then why do we kill humans in wars, because they are a threat.
Could he be my enemy?
Could he be a threat to my existence?
Might be. whilst trying to save him, he might get aggressive and kill me as well or I might accidentally fall off along with him.
Let’s answer this question — why shouldn’t I save him?
Does his death benefit me?
He is tall, lean, and has a chiseled jawline covered with stubble. I envy his appearance. He's definitely a threat to my possibility of having a girl unless he's a sucker for boys. Moreover, he was seen with Rashi. He is an obstacle. There’s a possibility that I can be with her no matter how far-fetched it sounds.
To me, this male is an obstacle and Rashi is an opportunity.
Opportunity for what? Never mind.
Who is he to me? Is he related? Not at all.
If it were a girl, would I act differently?
Am I always looking for a possibility of getting laid. If he were a girl and I had courage, I would request her to make love with me before she commits suicide. If she doesn’t want to live and doesn’t care about her body, then what harm is in giving pleasure to someone.
redhya, how low you can stoop.
It’s just disgusting.
How can I think so much in this critical situation? I don’t know. Perhaps, it is just a coping mechanism.
But…
Would I react in the same way if my father were standing at the edge of the roof and contemplating suicide?
Why are you hurting yourself, redhya?
Or are these thoughts just to see if you’re still attached to your core? Am I addicted to miserable, imaginary conditions? I put myself in a gloomy situation just to feel some heaviness on my chest, difficulty in breathing, and some tears in my eyes so that my ordinary life feels like an achievement.
Even If I imagine he were my father…
The first emotion engulfing me would be a sense of disappointment, because I’d never thought that my father could be a weak person? Afterwards, the giant python of helplessness would choke me to death.
I’d definitely hate myself.
Was I not a good son to him?
What did I miss? Wasn’t my father happy or just fucking satisfied?
Would I react differently if the person standing there had a different relationship with me? Let each question sink in.
What would I do if my brother were standing at the edge of the roof and contemplating suicide?
What would I do if my mother were standing at the edge of the roof and contemplating suicide?
What would I do if my sister were standing at the edge of the roof and contemplating suicide?
What would I do if my wife were standing at the edge of the roof and contemplating suicide?
What would I do if my daughter were standing at the edge of the roof and contemplating suicide?
What would I do if my son were standing at the edge of the roof and contemplating suicide?
Every relationship creates a different feeling.
But why?
My ethics, my morals, and my values are subjective in nature and change depending upon how my relationship with that person is.
What are they then?
If my father, brother, mother, partner, daughter, and son were standing on the parapet in tandem and I could save only one, whom would I save?
I should question my train of thoughts. It runs erratically.
Am I acting like an upset mother who asks her recently-married son, “whom would you save: I or your wife if both of us were drowning?”
How’d I respond? I’d say — I don’t know the answer to this question. Because I didn’t want to upset either of them.
In reality, I’d sacrifice who wanted to be sacrificed.
I would save who wanted to be saved. I’d save a selfish person.
Having said that, everything I imagined isn’t my truth.
My truth is…
The man wanting to die isn’t my father, brother, mother, partner, daughter, or son. He’s some random guy, in his early thirties, who happens to be my coworker. His existence and nonexistence hardly matters to me.
We are mortal beings.
One day we all stop being aware of our existence and simply put it is our death.
Life and death.
Is life a blessing?
Is death a curse?
We celebrate a new life.
But not always. Girls, Deformities. Abnormalities.
Why don’t we celebrate death?
Why?
Because it’s the end of a journey.
Nevertheless, it's a process of disintegration and dissolving in nature.
Isn’t death a beautiful metamorphosis? The new beginning — transforming from something to becoming everything, becoming the universe.
But our society isn’t ready for this.
Why would it be?
Because this school of thought discards the duality of nature. It advocates monism. And monosim discards humanistic values that draws the line between normal and abnormal.
Humans want to be divided, unique, better than others, rare…
So, it means I shouldn’t interfere.
It is his choice.
I’m part of society and I’m in the middle of गृहस्थ जीवन. I’m bound by societal norms. If I don’t stop him right now, people would ask me, “Why didn’t I stop him from jumping off the building?”
I won’t be able to stand the presence of people questioning.
Then I have to lie. I’d say, “I tried but it was too late. Before I could respond, he’d jumped.”
Or the truth. If so, then…
I shall say, “I didn’t stop him from jumping off the building because I'm studying philosophy.”
He jumps.
I feel nothing.
My convenience is my morality.
Next time, I wouldn’t wait to see the jump; I’d walk away much sooner.
Early in the morning, today, I saved a butterfly from flying into a revolving table fan.
Is this behaviour just to neutralize the pleasure I get after ejaculation?
Is it normal?
Am I normal?
Perhaps.
I remember the last time I felt that I hurt someone.
One last stroke. I pulled out and quickly laid it across her abdomen. I pressed my groin as hard as possible against her body until my ankles weakened and my body was filled with sensations. The next moment, the viscous, liquid seed was all over her flat stomach. Some of it was trickling down along her waistline. She held it; otherwise, who would wash the bed sheet? I looked at her — the wavy hair fanned out, the big, glistened eyes carrying a hope that I would stay with her like this, always. How could I tell her that one day her hope, however beautiful, would die.
She raised her brows. I uttered, “Nothing.”
I realized, “she's definitely a destructive desire.”
And at this moment…
Watching a man probably contemplating suicide, my body responds strangely. The heart races — already weary from dragging the harsh truths of life — live uncomfortably to live comfortably.
But life…
It all feels pointless.
You live for others, but not for yourself.
One day, you die.
The rights. The wrongs blur into nothing.
The sacrifices, the stress, and the endless miseries — they shrink into insignificance.
Amidst all thoughts of life, death, and philosophy, my head didn’t fail to remind me that half my salary will disappear into the EMI tomorrow.
Forget about the EMI — I see a man who is standing on the edge and might jump.
The muscle in my neck tenses. I force a lump of saliva down my throat. The warm, arid air makes it uncomfortable to stand on the roof.
Monotony killed me a long time ago. But now all of a sudden, witnessing someone may end himself, the bag of bones feels alive. The senses are heightened. I glance around — tall, brightly-illuminated buildings and 153 AQI. The city appears blurry as if my eyes had a resolution of merely 2 megapixel.
I observe the man.
Not moving, the man is on the parapet of the roof. His entire body is balanced on one foot.
What about the other one?
It is in the air, slightly above the surface. It seems that he’s ready to let go of his body and fall freely. It only requires a furious gust of wind to imbalance him. Then he, in fact, sleeps in the lap of death.
But…
Why am I part of this? Why do I have to see all of this? The modern, corporate slavery is itself so stressful that my life is better off without these disturbing visuals.
Coming here was definitely a mistake.
Now I think…
I shouldn’t’ve avoided my coworkers for some selfish moments.
I shouldn’t’ve thought of smoking alone.
I shouldn’t’ve calculated the time he would take to reach the ground if jumped — 2.4 seconds approximately.
Time = Square Root (2 x Height / Value of Gravity)
He looks familiar.
This guy works at my office. Marketing, maybe? Or PR?
That gorgeous woman — I’ve seen this man with her.
What’s his name? I don’t know.
And that woman, Rashi Pant. She heads the Learning & Development department.
A coworker once showed me her instagram account. The username was @pantrashi. Her posts were chic and made me blurt, “She is expensive. I would have to mortgage my ancestral property to maintain her.”
But what about this man?
Should I intervene and stop him from taking his own life?
If yes… how?
I should shout.
Should I say, “Oi!”
No — too rude. Too jarring.
Or…
I shouldn’t say anything at all, for disturbing him could be a mistake. My presence may startle him and he would slip. And I’d spend my life haunted by the thought that I accidentally killed someone who was about to kill himself.
The night sky above.
Distant stars.
Endless thoughts swirling in my head.
My mind feels like a quicksand — the more I think, the deeper I sink.
Wait…
Does he want to be saved?
To know that, I need to understand why he’s doing this.
Perhaps, he’s living a miserable life and it may get worse in future.
His present: a miserable life
His future: a more miserable life (I guess and he thinks the same as well. That ‘s why he is on the edge of… you know very well)
If he is not sure about his future and he is running away from the hardships in his life, then no doubt he is a coward.
But what’s wrong with ending the torture once and for all?
We choose our struggles. We choose our comforts.
And it’s not necessary to battle every war.
Then why should I intervene and stop him from doing what he wants? To him, ending his life is better than living, and letting him jump might be an act of kindness.
But what about his family, his mother, his partner? Or his father? They will be sad.
So what?
Their feelings; their problems.
Life moves on. It always does.
But…
I remember reading a story once — a mother died of despair after losing her son who had taken his own life.
History repeats itself.
It’s a possibility.
Saving him could save two lives — his and his mother’s.
What if his mother is already dead?
His father may be alive and die because of grief.
Stopping him from jumping off the roof could save two lives — his and his father’s.
But… dependency is wrong.
People are overly reliant on other people.
Suppose I saved him but his father wanted him to be dead. The man, very much alive, reaches home. Upon watching his son unscathed, the father commits suicide.
Again, this is merely a possibility that may or may not occur.
But…
Right now, if I don’t save him, he’ll never know what more life could offer.
But again… is that my responsibility?
My morals are completely weird. Based on my current mind state, if the world were on fire, I wouldn’t stop it.
Why would I? There would be so many emotional people to do that.
If they didn’t care, then why should I?
Besides…
I never wanted to be part of society anyway.
But…
I’m part of society.
And right now, there’s no one else here to stop him.
It’s immoral and unethical to brush off the incident and let the man lose his life. If I have to be ethical and moral, I have to examine the situation — really examine it — through different lenses, through different schools of thought.
I vaguely remember watching a 60 seconds reel on Instagram where a girl was explaining something related to ethics and morals.
She started off with existentialism and said that it favors individual freedom and authenticity and one alone is answerable to whatever options one chooses.
So, in this situation, the man can do whatever he wishes to do with his life, including the choice to end one’s life.
I should respect his decision and not interfere. It creates autonomy.
But… If everyone can just do whatever they want, then the world would be a pretty indecent place.
Then…
Where do we draw the line?
What is allowed?
What is not?
At what point, I should interfere.
Let’s say he weren’t ending his own life… Let’s say he were ending someone else’s.
Would I do nothing?
What if the person he were killing were my sister?
Would I still do nothing?
I would protect my sister, right? Because he can do as he pleases. But my sister has the right to live which I can protect.
And…
If he were killing some stranger, then to save or not to save the stranger is my choice, right?
Right?
She then discussed Deontology — the belief that the morality of an action lies in the action itself, not the outcome. According to this framework, an act must be inherently ethical, even if it leads to pain or harm.
Is suicide considered inherently wrong?
Who said it?
Who decides what wrong is and what right is.
Society.
People.
And people say…
It is an act of cowardice — a sign of defeat. It brings hopelessness, and it often leaves behind grief and unanswered questions.
Besides…
The act of taking one’s own life is a violation of moral duty — a betrayal of one’s obligation to oneself and to others.
The man wants to die.
It’s inherently wrong.
So, I should definitely stop him.
Then the girl said something about utilitarianism — it emphasizes actions that produce the greatest overall well-being.
I don’t remember what else she mentioned in that video.
I feel that the man’s death would bring a moment of grief to the family. The emotional impact on his family and friends could be profound.
But… the consequences could go much deeper, not limiting to kith and kin. His suicide might influence others to choose the same path in times of crisis. This would affect the mental health of the broader community around the family.
Suicide, in many cases, is an ailment—something that can be prevented or treated with external support.
In any problem, it isn’t a solution.
So, it’s my responsibility to step in.
Besides…
He is from my corporate fraternity.
I must save him.
But philosophy isn’t one size fits all. If nothing is absolute, how do I know what I do is right?
If I respect him — his choices, his freedom —- then I must stay silent. I mustn’t intervene.
If I respect morals & ethics, then I am confused because they are subjective and sometimes contradictory in nature. They give me a dilemma.
If I respect others and don’t want to disturb society, then I intervene because society would get uncomfortable if I didn’t.
Suppose — he is facing some money problem and I stop him from jumping.
Do I need to help him then —- money wise? Will it become an ethical obligation to help this person?
What about his family and friends? They can help him if he asks for it.
Maybe, they can’t.
If society gets uncomfortable by his suicide, then why does not society help him? This society has put him in this situation wherein he feels that dying is better than living.
I will just save him right now.
Later, if he dies in my absence, then I don’t care.
These components of philosophy hurt me. Usually I don’t do this much reckoning before making a decision.
This is not a normal situation.
I don’t see it happening everyday.
Is this internal monologue just to stall myself until he does what he wants to do?
Or…
Am I waiting for someone who can respond spontaneously, unlike me, and who becomes part of this and we divide the onus of whatever happens?
redhya!
I need to see how it impacts my life.
I look around.
Still all alone.
redhya, it’s only you who can do something.
I should do something, because it saves his life.
If that’s the case, then why do we kill humans in wars, because they are a threat.
Could he be my enemy?
Could he be a threat to my existence?
Might be. whilst trying to save him, he might get aggressive and kill me as well or I might accidentally fall off along with him.
Let’s answer this question — why shouldn’t I save him?
Does his death benefit me?
He is tall, lean, and has a chiseled jawline covered with stubble. I envy his appearance. He's definitely a threat to my possibility of having a girl unless he's a sucker for boys. Moreover, he was seen with Rashi. He is an obstacle. There’s a possibility that I can be with her no matter how far-fetched it sounds.
To me, this male is an obstacle and Rashi is an opportunity.
Opportunity for what? Never mind.
Who is he to me? Is he related? Not at all.
If it were a girl, would I act differently?
Am I always looking for a possibility of getting laid. If he were a girl and I had courage, I would request her to make love with me before she commits suicide. If she doesn’t want to live and doesn’t care about her body, then what harm is in giving pleasure to someone.
redhya, how low you can stoop.
It’s just disgusting.
How can I think so much in this critical situation? I don’t know. Perhaps, it is just a coping mechanism.
But…
Would I react in the same way if my father were standing at the edge of the roof and contemplating suicide?
Why are you hurting yourself, redhya?
Or are these thoughts just to see if you’re still attached to your core? Am I addicted to miserable, imaginary conditions? I put myself in a gloomy situation just to feel some heaviness on my chest, difficulty in breathing, and some tears in my eyes so that my ordinary life feels like an achievement.
Even If I imagine he were my father…
The first emotion engulfing me would be a sense of disappointment, because I’d never thought that my father could be a weak person? Afterwards, the giant python of helplessness would choke me to death.
I’d definitely hate myself.
Was I not a good son to him?
What did I miss? Wasn’t my father happy or just fucking satisfied?
Would I react differently if the person standing there had a different relationship with me? Let each question sink in.
What would I do if my brother were standing at the edge of the roof and contemplating suicide?
What would I do if my mother were standing at the edge of the roof and contemplating suicide?
What would I do if my sister were standing at the edge of the roof and contemplating suicide?
What would I do if my wife were standing at the edge of the roof and contemplating suicide?
What would I do if my daughter were standing at the edge of the roof and contemplating suicide?
What would I do if my son were standing at the edge of the roof and contemplating suicide?
Every relationship creates a different feeling.
But why?
My ethics, my morals, and my values are subjective in nature and change depending upon how my relationship with that person is.
What are they then?
If my father, brother, mother, partner, daughter, and son were standing on the parapet in tandem and I could save only one, whom would I save?
I should question my train of thoughts. It runs erratically.
Am I acting like an upset mother who asks her recently-married son, “whom would you save: I or your wife if both of us were drowning?”
How’d I respond? I’d say — I don’t know the answer to this question. Because I didn’t want to upset either of them.
In reality, I’d sacrifice who wanted to be sacrificed.
I would save who wanted to be saved. I’d save a selfish person.
Having said that, everything I imagined isn’t my truth.
My truth is…
The man wanting to die isn’t my father, brother, mother, partner, daughter, or son. He’s some random guy, in his early thirties, who happens to be my coworker. His existence and nonexistence hardly matters to me.
We are mortal beings.
One day we all stop being aware of our existence and simply put it is our death.
Life and death.
Is life a blessing?
Is death a curse?
We celebrate a new life.
But not always. Girls, Deformities. Abnormalities.
Why don’t we celebrate death?
Why?
Because it’s the end of a journey.
Nevertheless, it's a process of disintegration and dissolving in nature.
Isn’t death a beautiful metamorphosis? The new beginning — transforming from something to becoming everything, becoming the universe.
But our society isn’t ready for this.
Why would it be?
Because this school of thought discards the duality of nature. It advocates monism. And monosim discards humanistic values that draws the line between normal and abnormal.
Humans want to be divided, unique, better than others, rare…
So, it means I shouldn’t interfere.
It is his choice.
I’m part of society and I’m in the middle of गृहस्थ जीवन. I’m bound by societal norms. If I don’t stop him right now, people would ask me, “Why didn’t I stop him from jumping off the building?”
I won’t be able to stand the presence of people questioning.
Then I have to lie. I’d say, “I tried but it was too late. Before I could respond, he’d jumped.”
Or the truth. If so, then…
I shall say, “I didn’t stop him from jumping off the building because I'm studying philosophy.”
He jumps.
I feel nothing.
My convenience is my morality.
Next time, I wouldn’t wait to see the jump; I’d walk away much sooner.
Early in the morning, today, I saved a butterfly from flying into a revolving table fan.
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