Sunday, 5 October 2025

YOU ARE NOT GOING TO DIE

 

                YOU ARE NOT GOING TO DIE

            Almost everybody is afraid of death. He knows that nobody lives in this world forever. Everyone’s life span, including that of birds and beasts, is limited. There is no medicine or religious mantra that can ward off death even by a fraction of a minute.

            Yet, it is true that human beings are immortal. They are a composition of body and soul. The body is perishable and time-bound. The soul is not so.   

            Lord Krishna says in his divine song the Bhagavadgita ,“ The soul is never born nor dies’ nor does it exist on coming  into being. For it is unborn, eternal, everlasting and primeval; even though the body is slain, the soul is not. “

            The great Lord further says: “As a man discarding worn-out clothes, takes other new ones, likewise the embodied soul, casting off worn out bodies, enters into others which are new.”

            The soul, which is the real self of human beings, “is incapable of being cut; it is proof against fire, impervious to water and undriable as well. This soul is eternal, omnipresent, immovable, constant and everlasting.”

            The essence of Lord Krishna’s description about man’s life, which is not only perishable body but also the imperishable soul, is that we are not  completely mortal.  

            The Indian non-violent freedom fighter Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi  (1869-1948), also known as Mahatma Gandhi, said in one of his daily sermons: A seer has called us wayfarers. And so indeed it is. We are here for only a few days. Therefore, we do not: “die” but only go home. What a beautiful and true thought!

                To conclude here is a holy sonnet by the English poet John Donne (1572-1631). Its title is ‘Death Be Not Proud’.

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee

Mighty and dreadful, for thou are not so;

For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow

Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.

From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,

Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,

And soonest our best men with thee do go,

Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.

Thou are slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,

And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,

And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well

And better than thy stroke; why swell’st thou then?

One short sleep past, we wake eternally

And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

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G. R. Kanwal

5th October 2025

     

   

               

 

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