Rage Against The Dying of the Light

It takes courage to fight for your life, but more so to convince your loved ones to do the same. Dylan Thomas' Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, is a beautiful and touching experience of the poet, who sits by his dying father, asking him to resist the end of the tunnel, and seek but the light of life in the darkest of time.

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

He brings a comparison between men of all kinds, as every man has reason to fight for dear life. The gift of life, he explains, is a blessing, and one hold onto it till its last string.

Wise men, he says reckon there's more to life, awning for achievements that they have yet to make. They believe there is more they can do with their wisdom, hoping there's a chance of making a difference to the world, or to someone's life. They believe they mustn't let go of their life so soon, for their intelligence and wisdom still has the potential to do good, and therefore, they would fight against the end of life, for the chance to fulfill their destiny.

Good men, seek to do better, says the poet. At the brink of death, good men think of the good deeds they are yet to do, and how the little tasks they set out to do, make a beautifu difference to this world. While at the gate of darkness, they resist its calling, to better the world around them, with their good intentions, and sweet actions. The goodness in them shall fight, fight to do better whilst they still have a chance; and threfore they shall not leave without a fight.

Wild men, says the poet, have plenty they still wish to do. They lived their life in splendor, and missed their youthful rigor towards the end of their lives. As they enjoyed their life through the bright phases of their life, they turned sad as the days of their lives turned dim; and now they seek a chance to have changed that attitude and live their life with the same vigor they once did. They bid the approaching death to stay away, as they must seek what they once has and live the life they once enjoyed, yet again.

Grave men, he says, who saw the world in its greyest light, look bright and wide through the dying light, regretting the sadness that governed their life, and viewing what's left with the brightest shine. With the end approaching, they wish to rectify their actions, and be more optimistic towards life. They aren't ready for the end just yet, and will fight to live a happier life than what they did. It is time, they believe, to see through their 'blind eyes' the world that they had missed on, due to their serious old self. It is time to fight.

At the end, the poet looks to his father, and pleads him to 'curse, bless' him, using this oxymoron to initiate some exchange of words between, of any kind. He has forgotten all the differences between him and his father, as he looks at his frail self on the death bed, asking him to fight, fight for dear life,fight for another breath, fight for the vigor he once had and for the million things he could still do. He pleads his father to rage against the dying of the light, for like any man, there is always something to fight for.


And so should you...

La Vita e' Bella!

Life is Beautiful, a film

This week I write about one of the most tragic deaths from the cinematic universe. 

In 1999, a piece of art was released as a film called ‘La Vita è Bella’, an Italian film, that can be translated as ‘Life is beautiful’. It soon became a worldwide sensation, and the story and skill of both, the actors and the director were soon celebrated as phenomenal.

The film is based in the early 1930s, in a little town of Italy, where Guido, our protagonist (played by Robert Benigni), arrives to find work as a waiter in his uncle’s hotel. As the fates may have it, on the way to the hotel, he stops for a minute, and in his arms falls a beautiful teacher of the city school, stung by a wasp. “Goodmorning Princess!” He exclaims, and it’s love at first sight - for both. 

A serious of events lead to several ‘chance encounters of the same kind, an unexpected date, the most genial kinds of flirtation and the most romantic lines that the English subtitles can barely do justice to. 

He elopes with her before her wedding to another man, and the movie moves to the future, introducing their little son - the most adorable child actor/ role I have seen in any movie. The earlier romance transitions to a marvelous father-son relationship, that any viewer might admire.

Fates weren’t as generous on Guido’s litter, being born as a Jew. Guido and his son are soon caught for their Jewish blood, and taken to camp; and his wife decided to join them. While this all would be haunting for a kid, the rest of the story is how Guido makes it feel like a little game for his son, making him laugh, getting him to make friends with other German kids, promising his son that this was a vacation he planned for his birthday. He promised his son that if he gets through this game smiling, he would get a tank as a reward.

As the war came to an end, so did Guido’s journey. As we celebrate the freedom of it characters, he is shot by one of the guards, while his son is out in the city, hiding in a little closet for his father’s game. When he finally comes out, he is face to face with an approaching British Tank, with a smiling soldier who offers to take this lone child to his family. 

In the child’s mind, his father was always right. The ‘fun game’ his father created finally ended with a Tank! And you have nothing but respect for Guido and his love for his son. Guido’s death could make the toughest of persons cry, because his character warms your heart. It is a common fact among the viewers of this film, that this was one of the most tragic deaths in cinema, and to me, personally, it was the end of a brilliant being. For a man who can make a concentration camp fun for his son, I hold nothing but reverence.

Explaining the existence of this blog

This was called for...

A generic picture of someone "living their life" courtesy gettyimages

A while ago, last semester, I published a survey on what people are afraid of, when it comes to the topic of death; and who or what would they miss the most/regret before their last breath. As it turns out, by sending out this survey on groups, I appeared suicidal in the eyes of the Res-Life Coordinators, who requested several meetings to comfort me and stop me from killing myself.

While I appreciate their concern, their attitude towards my survey worries me slightly. For asking my peers what scares them about death, I wished to get in a conversation that would aid their fears – allowing them to live more freely and realize that the inevitable is nothing to be afraid of, let alone hamper your present.

This survey was also supposed to encourage a thought of making the best of your life. Several individuals, in the survey, confessed their regrets and the need to express their feelings or do something one last time. To the reader of this blog, I request you to live! The intention of this blog is to reduce your inhibitions and live life to the fullest! In no way do I intend to desensitize you to the importance of life, but reduce the intimidating gleam of death that shadows most of our actions.

For those who answered “I will miss my dog”, I urge you to facetime them tonight. For those who would miss their parents, text them before you go to bed. For those who want to travel while they can – save up and plan! Work towards the fulfillment of your life, motivated by the possibility of death.

I was eventually put in front of a board, to assess my mental stability (sigh). They assessed my reasoning behind having a blog such as this. Having understood that this was done with good intentions and not to incite suicidal tendencies in my peers because ‘I myself might have it too’ (yes, they thought as well), they finally let me be.

I am happy with my life, and living it to the fullest (I have at least one dessert a day). I hope you do too.

Tale of a Cat that ruled my heart

A Cat called Zander

This post is about one of the most beautiful relationship I have had in my life. It is funny to think sometimes, how strangely attached we get to animals. There is a sense of comfort and relief in sharing your space, your emotions, and often your secrets with our little pets. People usually entrust this affection unto dogs, the commonly adored pets - who, for people like my girlfriend, have the power to fix any problem, just with their smile (and licks of course).

My heart, however, goes out to the feline kind - cats to be specific. Their carefree, mischievous, lazy and bold demeanor resonates extensively with my own self. While many think that cats are not affectionate, they are one of the most sensitive beings I know. They just have a different way of showing it. They aren't the needy kinds, but they are indeed affectionate.

As is obvious, I had a cat. Judging by the nature of this blog, and the tense of my sentence - yes, he isn't around anymore. Is he dead? I don't know, but he is always, always, always in my heart (and in the beautiful picture on my nightstand). He wasn't actually my cat, he was my host family's back in Italy - during my year long exchange program in Sardinia, Italy. Before I headed there, I had never had a pet, but I was looking forward to having one.

They called him Seth, a grey stray cat that once found its way in my host mother's car. He sniffed me a couple of times, let me pet him in a week, and within a month he was often curled between my legs, definitely more comfortable than I was. He would often take sips from my glass of wine, finish my crumbs from my pizza, bring me a trophy rat occasionally and get into fights with other cats and come back crying for love.

He was a brave wild cat who would always roam the neighborhood; and we would let him. At eight years old, he would jump off the balcony, fight cats twice his size and keep all his messy business outside the house. He would enjoy his life on his own, until eventually he got hungry and came meow-ing outside my door. There was something magical about him - as if he was speaking to all of us telepathically.  He would often come in my dreams and speak with me - telling me his name is Zander. Turns out, he had done so to my host brother as well. Sounds insane, doesn't it? But well, I never cared. In moments where I felt more closer to him, I would address him as Zander, and he would respond by rubbing his head on my knees and curling close to my legs.

Before my last month, I whispered in his ears that he would only have me around for another month. In eight years he had never climber anyone's bed (he was very civil that way). But after that day, he gave me company in my bed every single night. It was a small gesture, but it's in these small ways that cats reach your heart.

I missed him after I left, missed him loads. So much so that I went back to Italy after a year. By now the house had 4 more cats, recently introduced and openly despised by Seth. Exactly a year since I last saw him, I saw him again. He had just had a meal and was about to walk out when I called out his name. He turned, looked at me, walked back slowly and rubbed the back of his head on my knee. When I looked at him again, he had tears in his eyes, with the most heart-warming expression; then he ran out of the house on his business.

I later found out, that was going to be the last time I saw Seth. Turns out, that was the last time anyone saw Seth. He never came back. He was out in the open, enjoying the neighborhood - something that he always delighted in doing. Do I miss him? Sure. But I always hope that he is alive somewhere, having a filmy holiday in some kind of cat paradise. Or if he did die, I just hope he is in the real paradise, because a cat as lovely as him deserves no less.

The Last Letter of Columbus

Reminiscing the once living

Earlier in 2017, I participated in a competition. It was about writing an autobiographical letter from the grave of a famous historical figure (from a given list). This was my take on Sir Christopher Columbus's Last Letter.

What happens when you play with life?

Flatliners: A scientific and moral approach to death

Official Poster

This week on death, is a review of one of the most recent movies on the concept of death and what lies after: Flatliners. The movie, released on October 19, 2017, is a story of a group of doctors, attempting to study brain activity at the time of, and after death.

Following the idea of Dr. Courtney (played by Ellen Page), each of the doctors, one by one, put themselves in a state of death, for varying minutes of time. An experiment, meant to analyze synaptic reactions exactly at the time of death, turns into a thrilling activity with outcomes like academic superiority, exemplary memory, skill development and high intuitive abilities. Seeing successful reactions in some of the doctors, the other doctors set out to partake in the experiment as well, competing to ‘stay dead’ longer than the others, hoping for better results.

As four of the five doctors go through the process, the side effects start to surface. They call the process ‘flatlining’, based on the heart rate monitor going blank at the time of death. As these ‘flatliners’ enjoy the benefits of their experience, they are faced with the remorse of their past sins. (Karma, anyone?) They begin to hallucinate the presence of those they have wronged, and these visions threaten to take their lives.

In the midst of these situations, the doctors realize that the only way to end these hallucinations (that claims the life of Dr. Courtney), is to put their sins to rest. Each of them set out to rectify the errors of their past, be it by finding the person and apologizing, or by traveling back to the land of dead and paying for their sins (it was as dramatic as it sounds). At the end, the story of scientific discovery ends in a tale of morality, that reminds you that nothing hurts more than remorse, and to apologize and repent is the only balm to the aches of our sins.

The movie was a fascinating take on the concept of death, approaching it from both, a scientific and moral point of view -  definitely recommend it.

Don’t forget to apologize to those you have wronged, or their ghosts would haunt you. Better so, wrong no one!