Suresh didn’t realize the water was deep; even as he went in, Vasudev asked him if he knew swimming. Hurriedly he said ‘yes’ and dived in, only to realize he had no ground to hold on. As he tired from waddling in the lake’s waters, he gasped for breadth and screamed, ‘help’. The two others on the bank heard him and thought he was joking; he had been joking ever since the trip began a week ago. And no one took him seriously. Now during the last event of our week long pilgrimage to South India, Suresh was staring at death. During the intense few minutes that he struggled for life alone, he had swallowed a few litres of water, and finally his desperation made sense to the two others in water. With all their might, they struggled to get him back to shore, and in the process one other almost lost his life. The scary drama ended on a happy note as Suresh finally sat on the bank and the rest of us silently and soberly gave him company, thanking the Lord for this close shave.
An hour later as we took lunch in the quiet village of Adikeshav temple area, the devotees were laughing and joking about the incident. I shuddered to think what would have been the scenario now if he had drowned. But all of us had forgotten and were teasing him for his foolish bravado in entering the water. Later we boarded the bus to get back to Thiruvananthapuram, and in a few minutes all the fifty devotees fell asleep. I looked behind at the sleeping devotees and then looked at the driver, who was driving fast, back to our hotel. I hoped and silently prayed he doesn’t doze off. Even as huge buses coming from the opposite direction honked and swerved dangerously on the narrow roads of Kerala, and crossed each other with a few centimetres separating them, I realized we had the sword of death dangling above our heads. Death could come at any moment.
Later as we returned back to Mumbai, I realized how often we get death news of people we know. I can say with assurance that at least once a week I receive the news of death of either someone I personally know or of someone known to a person I’ve known. If not death, at least I hear of someone’s close encounter with death or of someone on the verge of death due to old age or a deadly disease. Yet I complacently carry on as if all is fine.
The Mahabharata describes the conversation of King Yudhistir with Yaksha. Yaksha asks a series of questions and the king offers profound wisdom in his answers. One of the questions Yaksha asks is “What is the most wonderful thing in this world?” King Yudhistir replies that daily thousands are reaching the abode of death, yet those who are living think they’d never die. They live their lives never preparing for life after death. This conversation that took place five thousand years ago is so true even today.
Life is tragically short, and unexpected accidents threaten to shorten the duration further. And the bigger tragedy is we are blind to this unpalatable truth. As a practising Hare Krishna devotee I hope I can always remember and see Mr. Death standing in front of me, and let me take to the process of Krishna Consciousness seriously, as a dire emergency.
