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Stray thoughts on a sleepless winter night

I have been observing that many good men suffer in life and die in pain. Most of them are honest, kind, courteous, generous in helping the needy. Not only that, they have been followers of the rule of the land as well as the prescriptions of the scriptures. Why should they suffer?
I have also been observing that many selfish, greedy, rotten rouges live happily and die happily. How and why?
So, it appears to me, that Life as well death do not differentiate between good and bad! That is admitting what I have been taught from my childhood, is not correct. The neethisastrams,
holy scripts, epic stories, elementary school moral classes, all were waste!
‘Your tongue deserves chopping for saying that,’ I hear you saying, ‘the seeds sown in this birth, give fruits in the life -after death or next birth ‘
‘Why not in this birth itself?’ I ask.
You look the other side and remove wax from your ear!
So, no meaning in arguing with you. I should sleep.
‘Death’s choice is between strong and weak,’ I said earlier.
My term ‘weak’ here includes, not only the withered, aged, deteriorated, deformed, deprived people, but also, those who failed to discover their disease or didn’t discover it in time,
those who were wrongly diagnosed or got wrong treatment and those who made mistakes due to ignorance, negligence, for want of supports, financial, personnel, social, etc.
These ‘weak’ people are easy prey for ‘Death’. Whether you are a good man or a rotten rogue, if you escape from falling into the ‘weak’ category, you can pull on for sometime.
Is ‘Death’ a monster or a predator to pounce on the weak and feast on them? If I say, ‘yes’, I’m dragging the mythological ‘yama’ or ‘Kala’ riding on a water buffalo and roaming around the world with a rope to hook and drag people to his kingdom. I can’t do that. So, let me arrive at the conclusion that, by taking care of my body, there is every possibility of prolonging my death. Accidents are accidents and therefore not under my preview.
I repeat, I don’t bring into the field the Supernatural powers, who may or may not have any say in deciding when I should die.
That is too big a subject for me to handle and this is the wrong hour. Let us talk about that when I’m afresh after a morning bath.
So, let me think only about the present moment and sleep like a child.
‘Wait a minute, please,’ I hear your voice clearly, ‘what about the role of God? You proclaim every other minute, ‘ He decides’ . Where is He in your picture?’
Now, it is my turn to look at the other side and remove wax from my ear.

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