It’s a rainy Saturday morning today in San Jose, California. Night lamps are still on and the lights from them are reflected on the wet courtyard. I can see the raindrops making tiny circles and then disappearing. The valley afar is hiding behind the cloud. Unmindfully, I switched on my phone and saw the count. Total deaths, 64,625 in the world as of now from the novel coronavirus. The omnipresence of death everywhere! Behind each number, there was a life, a story, dreams, and wisdom. Now all gone. The fleeting thoughts and lasting realities of their final hour remained unknown. A big wave from the ocean of death is sweeping the world. All together we are caught in a sudden strangeness.
We may philosophize or fantasize death, but there is no denying that no one can ever escape the cold hands of the grim reaper.
Poets, painters, musicians or scientists, all express death in many unique ways. One such representation is Gustav Klimt’s Death and Life – a painting which was honored with a first prize at the 1911 International Art Exhibition in Rome.
Klimt believed that this was his most important figurative work.
Whatever happens, life continues. All of us experience various moments – moments of joy, grief, pleasure, achievement, satisfaction, stress, relief, and so on. None of them, except death, can ever bind us to it forever. At times, a grief-stricken person may feel that life has ended, but in reality, that person moves on. Time eases memories and that’s why we can live. Perhaps the time is the only weapon which life uses to make us comfortable.