Inclined Chronicles of Indulgence

Navigating through life More often than not, I wish I could walk into the ocean and never return. The waves call me so dearly. They are high and low, soft and swift, blue and white, dark and beautiful. The ocean absorbs the world around it and makes it a part of its own tumult. Every time I tried to be a part of that magnificent piece of water, I was called back by dear ones. Their tearful, callous calls remind me how unaltered their lives will be without me. They fear they will lose me. What sort of fear is that, to be scared of losing something one never had in first place? I would look back, each time, with hopes in my eyes to see more; my ears would be more attentive every next time to hear something that I might have missed the last time. The words, the faces, the looks remain as if time didn't occur to them.  One can be comprehensive of strangers being cold and distant. But people you call your folks, too? May be the tropical country doesn't allow them to be any...

Death. I don't discuss death. I talk of life, of after-life, but never death. Death is an event, and living is the process. This event just suddenly turns big tables upside down in a moment's time. I believe while we are living, we are also marching towards the final salute. In this letter to you, my love, I want to tell you how I feel about it. Firstly, any-x that keeps me away from you is the means of my death. When you return to our nest and don't find me opening the door for you, just know that that time length has taken its toll on me. You would be delighted to find my corpse in our closet with our sweet picture in my arms. Secondly, please know that I am really scared of that last obvious event. Your beautiful consolation of after-life sounds to me like the aftermath of a disaster. And in this disaster the tears won't be for people you don't know. I have the surety of this one life; I want to make the most of it. I want to prepare the fitt...