Death is, But Another Life

I felt compelled to write this yet another piece on death because this is the THIRD time I am witnessing death this semester. It doesn’t help that I am seeing a string of number 4’s everyday. Which is disturbing in itself ‘cause if you’re Asian you know what the number 4 signifies in our culture. Be it Indian or Chinese, the number 4 in the Hindu religion signifies Kethu (with his/her partner Raghu) signifies death. In Cantonese, 4 is pronounced as ‘Sei’ which also means death. So it all fits. Lemme tell you about how these strings of death relate to the number 4.

First, in late September, a coursemate of mine whom I did not know existed to begin with until his death announcement on my Psych course website, passed away in a horrific motorcycle accident. Many people mourned his death. I would admit that I felt nothing because quite frankly, I did not know the guy. Why should I mourn for someone I didn’t know? Such was my twisted logic. For a week, the frenzy of his passing was all over my course. To my surprise, the deceased boy who I did not know until his death, was dearly beloved by many. Many good, praiseful things were spoken of his person. There was a small regret in my heart, that I dismissed this person not worthy of my sympathy simply because I did not know him personally. Out of morbid fascination I managed to asked a friend of his how he died. Such was my twisted mind.

I know I had a lot of growing up to do, I just didn't know that I had a lot of catching up to do when it comes to being human. My complete lack of empathy and sympathy to the woes and plight of another person who had lost their beloved is disgusting to say the least.

Then came the incident of that boy who fell from my apartment floor in a freak accident. I felt a small fraction of sympathy for this boy because I had seen him around rascalling with his fellow friends. My sister saw him hanging around with his friends the next thing she knows, quite literally a few minutes later he had apparently plunged to his death from the 5^th floor of my apartment, in front of my apartment unit. He fell straight to the ground head first resulting in a split skull and immediate on-the-spot death. Again, this sick side of me emerged. Morbid fascination, I had. How did he fall to his death? Suicide? Murder? More than feeling sorry for the boy who lost his life and those who will grieve him, I was more interested in the details of his death.

Nope, still stupid.

Then on December 1^st, I spoke to a close Facebook friend of mine. My interactions with him had been completely within the limits of Facebook, never actually met him in person. Sure, there were plans for lunch dates to discuss psychology stuff but these plans were never seen through. Work and odd hour demands happened in such a way that I wasn't able to meet him at all. Taking for granted that we will eventually meet, we kept putting off our lunch dates.

We even made tentative plans to go hiking and swimming. I made tentative plans with him to be his swimming buddy since he recently took up swimming as a part of his fitness journey and I am a pretty deft swimmer myself, thought it’ll be those funny ‘pro-swimmer vs rookie swimmer’ relationship. =’) Boy, I would be lying if I said I hadn't daydreamed about doing the Butterfly Stroke with him to challenge him! I did, I imagined my swim date with him, the two of us competing various swimming styles. I was particularly keen on doing the Butterfly Stroke with him. Now, they remain as mere daydreams.

Yes, this close Facebook friend, who was respected and loved by many due to his natural tendency to reach out to others a helping hand, passed away on Tuesday December 3^rd in a hiking accident with his hiking buddy in the notorious Bukit Tabur hiking arena. I received the news on December 4^th at mid-evening via another friend of mine who was even closer to him. My vision dissociated from the shock of it all for a moment. “Deryk has passed on”, that was the message.

I was like whut? WTF. OMFG. My mind raced on what the heck happened, that only 3 days ago he told me about how he wanted to keep an eye on an acquaintance that showed signs of suicide. Then I got the news of his death. I was numb the whole day. Sure, I managed to focus here and there but not without him on my mind the entire time, trying to get used to idea I will never have meaningful Facebook conversations with him ever again, that I can send him Facebook messages that will never get replies. Him with his dry humour. Him with his passionate and elaborate accounts of his passions. And his major crush for my friend (the one who broke the news to me). Him with his occasional rudeness. But hey, who’s perfect.

It took me the death of my friend to wake me up from my previous selfish, twisted self who reveled in someone’s death and their accounts. It took me the passing of an important person my community of friends and acquaintances to make me realize how serious the passing of a loved one can be. All those times that I reveled in someone’s death made me feel ashamed to be a human being, that to think at my age I’d have more common sense than to have childish fascination on what is clearly an issue that requires much love, understanding and empathy.

A friend had to die for me to grow up.

Maybe on a more metaphysical level, his time on earth is due but relating his death to how I have been reacting to other deaths that I have been witnessing thus far is a serious wake up call to my person, more importantly, my mental well being, or lack thereof.

Prior to the events that led to the announcement of my friend’s death, my Facebook dash was bombarded with the news of the tragic and sudden death of Paul Walker, the star of Fast and Furious franchise. Again, with morbid fascination, I weaseled on information of how he died. Never mind that million would be genuinely mourning his passing. I just wanted to know how he died. I even watched that aftermath footage of his crash that appeared shortly on my Facebook dash. With excited giddiness.

I need professional intervention.

Then came the news of the death of my friend. This had been a serious slap on the face. Truly, I have disappointed people who look up to me. I am better than this. I will be better than this.

Did I tell you that for my Philosophy of Life and Death extra credit assignment I did a short defence on Death? I even went as far as saying “perhaps people believe in the afterlife because they want the best for their loved ones, basically death of a loved one means you lose control and closeness with that person, so in an attempt to console yourself you conjure this afterlife concept and hope they are happy there”.

Just look at that ignorant statement of a bitch who hasn't lost someone dear to her until this point.

Well, I take it back. I take it all back and I stand corrected. For the sake of my friend I now believe in the afterlife and I hope he is heaven. Because god fucking dammit, I care enough for this person to wish him the best and want the best for him.

Why are all the good people dying?

R.I.P My dear friend. Till next time.