I saw death today.

25 April. It was a cloudy morning as I walked into the medicine ward of the hospital, and I was greeted by a rather usual scene.

An old woman was sitting on the floor towards a corner, crying hysterically. Beside her there was a young woman, about her daughter's age, whose face looked very sombre. There was a middle-aged man next to them, who was also weeping while talking on his cellphone.

One needed no further explanation - it was clear that someone had died a short while ago. However, apart from the three of them, the rest of the corridor appeared absolutely unconcerned about it - it was, like I said, a usual scene there.

Now, contrast it with the death of Nelson Mandela last year. Mandela, I believe, needs no introduction - he was a father figure to the millions he had liberated from discrimination. His funeral was attended by most of the prominent world leaders and about 80,000 other people. It was declared a national holiday; and it is certain that he shall be remembered for a really long time after his death.

Both of them were humans of flesh and blood, and both of them were given a resting place beneath the earth where they shall be reduced to nothing but bones - yet one was mourned only by his immediate family, yet another was given a farewell by the entire world. Why, may I ask, does the world show this brazen duplicity?

We humans are a funny lot. All our lives, we strive for ourselves to be more accepted. Does that girl/guy like me? Do people think I am weird? Is my facebook profile picture going to get enough likes? Yet, what's going to happen when I turn my back? Everyone knows that in the end, one thing is absolutely certain - we're all going to be reduced to ashes or bones or something else - depending on how our kin and customs choose to dispose of us.

Then what was the fundamental difference between those two people? When you die, would you like the aftermath of your death to be described as a usual scene, or as an event which a sizeable number of people are going to remember?

In the course of our existence upon this planet, we meet a lot of people and do a lot of stuff - some for ourselves, some for others. We make varying impressions on a lot of people. You don't have to be a world figure to do that. A doctor who's saving lives. A construction worker who's building houses. A comedian who's giving people a good laugh. A writer who influences people. A bus driver who slows down so that the man running behind can get in on time and won't get fired by his boss. A brother who gives his sister a warm little hug when she's down. A mother. Some of our impressions on certain people are so deep that they become an integral part of our lives - most are not so profound, but still good enough to make a change.

In the end, life just boils down to the people whose lives you touch - small or big, whichever way possible. Make sure you're not the one mourning at your own death. Make sure you don't end up with a lifetime in which you're lying all alone on your deathbed and wondering 'dude, people are gonna remember me, right?'!

Thanks a lot to Scintilla Magazine for publishing this article of mine in their November 2015 edition. You can read it here.

© Scintilla Magazine

OMG, it's dead!

A few minutes ago, a friend was telling me about how some of her non-medico friends told her they didn't wanna take up medicine because, well, they simply couldn't "handle the dead body stuff". Last week, my aunt appeared absolutely scared when I was telling her the stuff we do in the dissection hall - cutting up a cadaver's skin, then scraping out the fat, tearing out the muscles one by one, taking out the heart and intestines and holding them from every angle possible. Honestly speaking, it was interesting - nay, it was hilarious - to see the expression on my aunt's face.

Indeed, one question has been put to me perhaps much more than any other, when people ask me about the stuff we do in college - "Aren't you scared dealing with dead bodies?". The dissection videos on YouTube say, "Content Warning. This video may be inappropriate for some users." To be frank, I don't get it. Of course, cutting up a dead body isn't really a form of pleasure - it stinks, and the strong odour of formalin sears into your eyes. The slimy intestines aren't exactly impressive to hold either. But... fear? If at all you should be afraid of something, it should be a living person - he/she can punch you, kick you and er, kill you. But a dead person is well, dead! What can a cadaver do to you anyway?

I can understand why people fear death - because let's face it, it's the biggest mystery known to mankind. Nobody knows for sure what happens after death. And thus naturally, people fear the unknown - the same reason why little kids get scared when they step into a dark room: they don't know what is in the room. However, to be afraid of a harmless, actionless dead body lying quietly on a table is to me, something that defies all logic. I'm still looking for an answer; and I'm quite convinced there is none.

The heart of a killer

As news of the mass murder in an elementary school in Connecticut, USA spread, the world was shocked. Probably I was a little more so, 'coz two of my cousin sisters are elementary school students in Connecticut (thankfully, they go to a different school; they're safe). And within 48 hours of this horrific crime, as sympathy and mourning poured in from every corner of the world, there was also another strong feeling in the air.

Hatred.

A quick Facebook search with the killer's name, Adam Lanza, reveals that. Hundreds of people, in different pages, all asserting "Adam Lanza should rot in hell", "I Hate Adam Lanza" and other rhetorics that are best not repeated here. Yes it's true, we're all justified in hating him for having snapped the life out of 20 little innocent kids, but does he really deserve so much hatred?

Almost every news agency that has reported the tragedy has also reported that the killer in question was a 20-year old extremely lonely and intelligent guy who had no friends at all. According to the head of security at his school, Adam was "a very scared young boy, who was very nervous around people he could trust or he refused to speak with", and "a loner". This, as psychiatrists say, is an indication of Asperger's syndrome, a form of autism - which is an in-born genetic condition in almost all cases. Couple it with the fact that his parents divorced in 2008 - obviously not an emotionally pleasant situation for any child, let alone an autistic one.

I'm not asking that all killers' actions can be justified in one way or the other. All I say is, let's not hate anyone blindly just by having one glance at the person's actions. It's important to look at the other side of the story as well - to spare a thought for the circumstances that could've led a human being, who was once no different from us, to act in the way he did. Let's not alienate anyone from our company - don't allow anyone to be a loner. Many people say that they "like being alone" and they "prefer being quiet and in solitude" - but at the end of the day, everyone likes to have friends. Often it is seen that the persons who inflict deep hateful crimes upon their fellow beings are those who were desperately in need of love. The root cause of hatred is hatred itself. And the world has seen enough of that.

RIP, 28 victims who were shot down on 14 December, 2012 in Connecticut, USA.

RIP, Adam Lanza.