Beautiful life will lead to beautiful death. Stay beautiful.

The month of “Eternal rest grant unto them O lord, and let the perpetual light shine upon them. May they rest in peace. Amen.” is indeed back to remind us that dust indeed we are and unto dust we shall return. The world chants ejaculations for the peaceful resting of departed souls. Proserpine has left the earth and her mother is not willing to bless vegetations any more. There is gloom all around. The "Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness” is half and a quarter turned to go. Gloom is ready to take its chair. Praying for the death at this time of the year is indeed apt. It’s getting bitingly cold. The snow is beginning to empower the land, turning landscape into snowscape. In a place like Thiruvarur, heaven’s great lamps seem to have dived into a long oblivion with the arrival of the Northeast monsoon. Winter nights are beginning to enlarge the number of their hours and with it winter blues. We die many deaths before we can properly die. Death and winter both bear darts and wound and sting with cold as love with heat. And yes, sickness, age, or grief will marry our body to dust. This nuptial for sure we cannot procrastinate for we are all traveling toward it every second speeding together with times’ wing chariot. Our west of life will be a matter of 12 hrs drive. Turning to dust makes a lot of sense.

But how does the concept of heaven and hell strike one? Are we all waiting for the blow of the archangelical trumpet? How many of us are trying to live a good life because we are scared of the perpetually burning flames of hell believing that God would not be God if He did not penalize the transgressor? The heaven where God dwells is also pretty attractive I suppose. Heaven has free flowing rivers of milk and honey they say. I like neither. Who wants to have a beautiful death? Let us all live beautiful lives first and not bother about death. Have you not heard what James Shirley had to say? Death is the leveller. Death does not define how beautiful, affluent or majestic one is. It levels. But life defines. One cannot have a beautiful death unless one has led a beautiful life. This November I wish all a happy, tranquil, facilitating living. Beautiful people with beautiful feet, hands, heart and mind stay beautiful.