Death, she smells of sweet roses

by Anuradha Prasad of Zennfish

 

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© Anuradha Prasad, 2016

A faint smell of stale flowers and mildew scented the air. There is silence. This is the silence of ends, of thousands of finalities. It is not simply the death of bodies but the death of time and of identities as we know them.

© Anuradha Prasad, 2016
© Anuradha Prasad, 2016

Life, living energy, cannot be buried, burned, incinerated. It is only in death that we witness the separation of fact and fiction, of truth and illusion.

© Anuradha Prasad, 2016
© Anuradha Prasad, 2016

A thought bloomed: you are ours as we are yours. I turn it over and over, this gift of a koan that will dissipate the day i breathe my last. It’ll then be my turn to say when you ask, you are ours as we are yours.

 

profile-pic

I am a writer
and editor
living in Bangalore,
seeking to engage in life
in new ways and
to keep the
magic alive.

 

 

Written for the On Living and Dying series.  If you’d like to be a part of the challenge, find more info here: 365 Days On Living and Dying.  But first, leave a comment and let Anuradha know how you feel about what she said, and be sure to visit her over at Zennfish when you’re done.

7 Comments

  1. Thanks so much for sharing your cemetery experience with us. It really takes us to a natural place of deep introspection. Your photography is beautiful as well, capturing the mixed emotions between sorrow and peace that such a place creates.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Sreejit. It is one of those experiences that lingers and changes you and the way you perceive and respond to all that you don’t normally look straight in the eye. Thank you for giving me the chance to share this here 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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