Frightened Adolescence

I was only a child when the concept of death frightened me. I don't know how it became a prominent thought for me at that age, but it just did. It's true that when I was two,my paternal grandfather died,but I never really realised his absence as my parents did. You see, I was incapable of forming the emotion of missing someone at the age of two. Now, if you think that as we grow up we started realising the significance of someone's absence and I ought to felt those emotions by now, then you are mistaken again my friend. Since my grandfather's death, there have been a lot of deaths in my family, but I never really missed them. I did not cry at their funeral. Though people scorned at me and I realised that I needed to cry even if it is for the sake of them to show my affection and respect, I just couldn't. While sitting at those funerals, all I could think about was how fearsome the nothingness is that they were facing. Oblivion was a scary thing and somehow I always ended up being concerned about my own oblivion rather than shedding a pool of tears for others'. I was tortured by Tarasankar's "জীবন এতো ছোটো কেনে?" with no answers whatsoever.

At three, I used to request my parents to always remain as they were and to keep me as I was, just a child , hovering over my dad's shoulder. You see, in that age hero-worship was limited to our parents. I believed that there is nothing that they cannot do and though I somewhere knew that the chances are few to fulfil my wish, I hoped that they just might do the trick. But as the years passed by and my body showed its absolute reluctance to remain the same, I thought my work just might save me from the oblivion at least. By then I surrendered to the certainty of the great nothingness.

At eighteen, I obliviated the oblivion. In my desperate attempt to escape the cruel truth I clung to life like a tiny leaf clings to the sunlight. It was bright and blurry, to some extent chaotic even. I was restless, always surrounded by numerous friends. Even when they were not there, I used to nag my boyfriend to talk to me. You see, I never wanted the voices to stop, because once they stopped, I couldn't ignore the voices inside my head. So many questions, so many fears, uncertainties - I was just not ready to deal with them yet. I was so afraid to be alone, always eager for the warmth of human contact. I believed that if were to be left alone, my own voices will eat me up like a patient python,slow and steady, devouring me in a whole , only a little faster maybe.

At twenty-one, just like everyone else, my friends are left behind. I don't feel the urge to be a part of their crowd anymore, rather I dread them now. The person whom I considered to be my world once, I don't even remember his face anymore. The curves of his smiles that assured me on my most sleepless nights are long forgotten. I have finally learnt to live alone, literally and metaphorically. In this small room, where I occupy one bed out of four, the rest being vacant, I have found that being with myself can be amusing. I still have those questions, all of them, but now I know there are no answers to them, there never will be. The thing that matters the most is that I was gifted with this journey, not by God of course. I'm an atheist you see and I'm pretty sure you know the story of fighting with 1.2 billion other sperms. It's all pure science. Yet if you, my friend is afraid still, I can romanticize it for you. Would you feel better if I say, "The destination must not matter anymore as the journey seems to be worth it and we must leave our seat for someone else to have the privilege of the journey."