Can life become so miserable that one is forced to choose ‘death’ over ‘life’? A recent death in the extended family has been haunting me since. The gentleman in question jumped off the roof of his office building taking his own life, leaving behind his wife and a distraught daughter. As I write, his face swims before me and I am left thinking, what might have been the cause for taking such an extreme step. Whatever the cause it must have been so overwhelming that the person was left with no choice but to end his life. To arrive at the decision to end one’s own life and methodically execute that is humungous, one that I can’t quite fathom. There is nothing but questions that keep cropping up. Did the person sleep the night before? What was he thinking? The act of achieving mental closure to all problems by deciding to die can perhaps help the person to maintain composure and coherently go about their daily routine, knowing well what is in store and maybe ticking off time. What did he think would happen to his wife and daughter? How did he overcome the love and longing for his child to take the ultimate decision? And as I keep tossing these questions in my mind, I know I have been touched in some very deep way and there is no way I can achieve any degree of mental closure but let time be the healer.
