July 24, 2010

It's been a strange day. I hear news of births, and deaths. Of joy and sorrow. A boy I knew somewhat died in a horrible accident in my building. A close friend gave birth to a baby girl. They're taking his body to Lahore for the funeral. She's called Hannah. He died of third degree burns. She was born via an emergency C-section. People went to see him last night, he seemed perfectly lucid. He spoke to them, told them how all of this had happened. She took fourteen, intense hours to make an appearance. He was his parents only child. She is her parents only child.

He died, she was born.

I'm not sure whether to mourn, or celebrate. So I do neither. Except I sit here, and I think about how flimsy it all is. Life, death, joy, sorrow, love, hate. We take ourselves a lot more seriously, I think, than the fates do. They play with our lives as if we're nothing more than cheap entertainment. Disposable characters from a lousy soap opera (you know the ones that get killed first in the horror movies), we never know when we'll get cut from the show even when everyone else will carry on as before. Sometimes it seems like we don't really matter in the grand scheme of things.

And the truth is, we probably don't.

4 comments:

Lonely Perverted Soul said...

:( :(

Dee.Dee said...

*sigh* :/

Anonymous said...

Deepest condolences with the boy's family. Heartfelt congratulations to the baby girl's family.

Minerva said...

Terribly poignant post.

We take ourselves a lot more seriously, I think, than the fates do.

Great line. Very true.