A Matter of Existence

Death is an inevitable truth, a certainty that shadows every moment of life. Yet, it is not simply an end. When we encounter the death of another, especially someone we know, it forces us to look inside. It disrupts the boring and dull flow of our days, creating a stillness that sinks our hearts but allows us to reflect—not just on the one who has passed, but on the life we are living.

Death is a mirror. It does not merely show us what was; it shows us what is. The death of another brings clarity, however fleeting, to the chaos of existence. It asks us questions we often avoid: Am I truly living? Or am I merely moving from day to day, chained to society, expectations and fears? In confronting death, we confront ourselves.

This confrontation often reveals a bitter truth. Many of us spend our lives living for the world rather than for ourselves. We pursue stability, success and social standing, believing these will bring happiness. We buy houses we do not love, maintain relationships that feel hollow, and work jobs that drain us, all for the illusion of fulfilment. But when we are faced with the death of another, the veil lifts for a moment, and we see life for what it is: fragile, fleeting and often misdirected.

In this realisation lies the paradox of death. It terrifies us, but it also teaches us. Death strips away falsehood, showing us what truly matters: love, connection and meaning. The relationships we nurture, the dreams we chase, and the kindness we extend become the threads that weave a life well lived.

Yet, these truths are easy to forget. Life is chaotic. It pulls us in different directions, and the world’s noise drowns out our inner voice. But death silences the noise. It reminds us of the brevity of our time and the importance of living with intention. This is why the death of another feels so profound—it shocks us into awareness, even if only for a moment.

But what does it mean to live well in the face of death? To answer this, we must accept the duality of existence: life and death, joy and sorrow, chaos and order. Death is not an aberration; it is a natural part of the cycle. Just as night gives meaning to day, death gives meaning to life. Without it, we would have no urgency to act, no reason to cherish the moments we are given.

Living well, then, is not about avoiding death but embracing life. It is about stepping beyond conformity and seeking authenticity. It is about forming relationships that matter—not for appearances, but for their depth and truth. It is about pursuing what solaces the soul, not what pleases the crowd.

The death of another also reminds us of our shared humanity. We all walk the same path, and we will all reach the same destination. This shared fate should inspire compassion. It should encourage us to be kinder to others and gentler with ourselves. In the end, it is not the possessions we accumulate or the titles we earn that define us, but the lives we touch and the affection we give.

Death is chaotic, unpredictable and often painful. But it is also a teacher. It forces us to see beyond the superficial, to confront the truths we ignore, and to live with purpose. The death of another is not just a loss; it is an opportunity—a chance to reflect, to realign and to embrace life more fully.

We have the opportunity to wake up the next morning and look at the marvellous skies, that not all are alive to witness. To hear the chirps and shouts, that not all can hear. For those who died, their lives must be cherished and enjoyed. Instead of pity and sorrow, we must rejoice. Rejoice in the memories made along the way, and the lives impacted.

So, life and death are not opposites; they are partners. Death reminds us of the fragility of life, but it also highlights its beauty. Each loss is a call to live—not in fear of the inevitable, but in celebration of the time we have.

 (The author is a student of Humanities at DPS Srinagar)