Experiencing death and being isolated can be painful for most of us. I have experienced them first with my grandma and then people around me.
The schools’ doors were closed due to Covid at that time in the crowded city where I lived. I was 17 years old; caring not too much about big life goals except having a bachelor degree from a university, finding a job to survive and having babies if it is possible. However, Mr. Covid erased my dreams and painted a new chapter of life in another vibrant colour.
In 2021, I moved to my native village because my grandma from my dad’s side was suddenly paralyzed, so she needed a hand from me. My grandma had a talent to kill bachelors’ hearts with her smile; she could even kill mine. I felt she used a year of my life for her own sake; she used my hands to eat and move. I later realised that she also cultivated the new me in the process.
My grandma prayed to Buddha every night for her five sons by names with their wives and children. She even included the locations and job positions of each so that the god would not bless the wrong person. Additionally, when it came to praying for herself, she murmured that:
“Please let me die, Lord. I am a burden for everyone, for I am paralyzed and I cannot take care of myself.” In response, nature kept silent. The wind breezed through my hair with humidity and I felt choked. I sensed the nature of death. My grandma sometimes kept the change under her pillow for her grandchildren who never showed up. The pain in her neck was the result of missing and hoping for them. However, that hope kept her alive; that makes me almost as tired as studying rocket science. Then, I decided at that moment not to expect too much as long as your heart pumps. “No” can be seen in front of the word “expectation” in my diary.
Once, she told me: “Let me go to the forest alone, for I want to sleep without disturbing anyone.”
I said “You will be lonely!”
She replied with a smile and a blink “This is nature: you should know about that. And you know what? I am gonna be a beautiful flower or a butterfly”. All my thoughts divided deeply in the corner of my head for a moment. Definitely, she seemed ready to die alone, which I was afraid of before. She even had a plan to say goodbyes to everyone, planning to come back as a flower or a butterfly. On the other hand, I did not dare to freely say goodbyes. The courage she gave me was precious for experiencing the nature of goodbyes.
I, the new me, came up with the courage of facing death and saying goodbyes.
Saying goodbye to my grandma, my new world, Mandalay, was waiting for me to test my courage. One day, I met with a couple who were from America. I said “ Hello” first, and we shared our contact information. They believe Jehovah is God. Meeting with Jehovah Witnesses, having an abundance of books from the library, my soul fled through the ocean to space: it touched the stars, imagining and creating a life after death. I asked them a question “ What is gonna happen after death?”
Thy: “You may have a forever life or vanish if you go against god’s principles.”
I: “ What are you doing in that kind of life?”
Thy: “ We will enjoy it”, and they told me many appealing things about eternal life. “No suffering” they added, which I always wanted.
Suddenly, I heard the sound of wings. The flower where the butterfly stamped its foot was appealing and showed happiness to have such a rainbow-butterfly. But not for eternity; that butterfly seemed ready to take off the flower soon.
To become a butterfly, it must have struggled to emerge from the cocoon with pain. The butterfly took my emotions and well being with it; not expecting to survive for eternity. I will eat those pains with honour like a butterfly. I will; until I become a flower or a butterfly.
