Survive
Without survival, there is no life.
All life on Earth has been designed by evolutionary processes to replicate.
This is nature's long-established engine of survival.
The Penultimate Purpose of Life
Replicate
While the primary purpose of your life is to survive, your secondary purpose is to replicate.
You are a biological machine.
Your motives in this life are simple, but not simplistic:
To live and love.
I regret to say that Mala Jr. was not half the cat his father was.
This is not how you would want to remember the dead.
But Mala Jr.was like his father .They died for the same cause.
They died trying to survive and replicate...mostly trying to replicate.
Mala Sr. however chose not to involve us in his death.When he was sick and mortally wounded by an attack by other cats , he simply left, never to return again.It took him every
ounce of energy his battered body was left with , but he did not want to die with us.
Mala Jr. was like his father, except for the hitler moustache.His father had one and he didn't.
To give you a better picture, he looked like Sylvester
, except for the red bulbous nose.He didn't have one.He acted exactly like Pepe-le-phew...
In other words , he was a consummate seducer and an ardent rake.The rake faces the most danger from members of his own sex , who are far less indulgent than women are of his
constant and relentless ways.
Mala Jr. Like his father was a delicate creature, not known for his strength..And in a true darwinian dog-eat-dog world (pardon the wrong animal comparision ), physical strength was truly a trump card Mala wished to possess .
Whenever a cat went to estrus , we would expect Mala Jr. to return home wounded.We were used to his father returning back with week old deep gashes all over his body festering
with pus.
It was no different with his son.
As they say , the apple does not fall from the tree...
Mala Jr. was hurt badly.The skin on his face opened up like a flap , like it was sliced open with surgical accuracy.He was shivering with fever.An unbearable stench of putrid
pus from all his open wounds assailed our senses .
This was deadly serious.
We rushed him to the vet.The prognosis was bad.All the vet could do was to clean him up , give him an antibiotic shot and stitch him up for good.
Mala Jr.'s fever never subsided.It grew worse over time.
We kept him in a warm room , in a box , with soft cloth padding.His body was emaciated...there was nothing save a few bones sticking out and fur , all damp , sticky and hot.
All organisms have ingrained in them , a basic instinct to live and survive.Nobody in their right minds wants to die.(Emphasis on 'right minds').We want to survive at any costs...
Even when on the brink of death , an organism strives to survive.One can see desperation in the final throes of death.We do not want to let go of our mortal coil.
Such was the case with Mala Jr.
On the day he died , during his last moments , he thrashed around with senseless abandon.Perhaps it was a last ditch attempt to recapture the losing essence of life.
During his last moments, all I could do was comfort him and try to give him some water to drink.
As I was giving him water , his body suddenly relaxed and his eyes lost their glint.His eyes
unlike his father's, were fierce and cruel , like that of a snake's , deep and hypnotic , giving you chills down your spine when he stared at you.
But now , they were dull...lifeless.His violent outburst was now replaced with stiff rigidity of rigor mortis.
The violence was no longer there.
The life was no longer there.
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x-0-x
21 grams.
They say we all lose 21 grams at the exact moment of our death...
everyone.
The weight of a stack of nickels.
The weight of a chocolate bar.
The weight of a humming bird.
In pure contrast, was my grandmother's death.
Age often brings the ultimate indignity ,and that in the form of extreme helplessness.
At 89 , she was bedridden for the past six months.
An active woman throughout her life , now was reduced to being confined to her bed.The ultimate indignity was that she was evaporating right before our eyes.
Physically , mentally , spiritually...she was evaporating.
The purpose of her life , dare I say , had been completed for she had had offspring and she had led a good life , loved by one and all.
Advances in modern medicine are a bane in a way that they unnecessarily prolong life and therefore suffering.
A life can be stretched only so much before it snaps .
Perhaps we are all guilty of prolonging suffering.
She held on till she could but eight days ago , what was left of her simply evaporated away.There was no violence, no hesitation , no desperation...only acceptance .
Her departure was so undramatic that a sense of unreality crept in and we checked and rechecked for signs of life until the doctor had pronounced the truth.
To pay homage,I'm reprinting my entry from an old diary about my grandma.(It was written when she first moved into our home , about 10 years ago)
"Look at ma grandma.She eats like a bird and sleeps like a log.When she is sleeping, she breathes like Darth Vader !(Chortle, chortle!)
Well , she is kinda old , 85+ years at least, frail looking but very intelligent and sharp for her age.(God bless her soul)
She is the best example for life itself.
So Fragile , yet so strong.
I'd like to know what goes on in her head.
I want to know how her perceptions differ from mine , or for that matter from any one else's.
I wish I knew her better..."
These were my final thoughts running in my mind as Grandma's corporeal body was consumed by angry flames :"Grandma...I hope its not too late to say I'm sorry for all the things I would've , could've ,should've done.
I'm sorry "
my condolences, sincerely.
ReplyDeleteCondolences accepted.
ReplyDeleteThank U.