The ghosts of death are flirting with us. We are trying to run away from it. Every single inch of us still wants to live even though life has always been a tear machine.We try to live so hard. But every other day, we choose death to life, we choose beds to table, tv to real world. Is it only the death we are scared of or is it the absence of life? Is it the trauma calling death which makes our bones creek like a cascade or is it the fact that death is the final whistle.
I feel like I am writing my own death note right now. Just when we thought we had conquered every last inch of nature, the nature has given us a bitter reply to each of us that we are her children and it has always been this way.
Some of the old folks said it was the god. Science says it was the tectonic plates. The angels of death are roaming around each of us. Each single moment we breathe, could be our last. The air which enters our lungs could be the last wisp of breath we can ever have. The buildings collapsed like cards in front of us.
We desperately hope that our bones and muscles are stronger than those cement and bricks. We hope that there are many sunrises waiting for us. We hope that we will be able to tell our grandchildren how me it through. We hope that this nightmare tomorrow after it is over will give us a glimpse of hope and courage instead of mourns. We hope that we will be able to cheat death, and we desperately hope that every single moment thereafter we will keep on choosing life over death. We hope nature will have mercy on its children.
-Samrat Babu Koirala(3:56 PM, 26th April 2015)