Tuesday, February 06, 2024

Quratulain Babur on MEDIUM





Mar 20, 2017

“Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form.”
― Jalaluddin Rumi

Grief. “Grief is a natural response to losing someone or something that’s important to you”, as described by WebMD.

They say there are 5 stages of grief. A person goes through denial/isolation, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. I believe that what ‘they say’ is true, but it covers only half the story of what a person goes through during grief. For some, it’s only when you lose a close loved one either through death or simply because of distance. For others, it’s a steady stream of setbacks, where it’s hard to understand and realise what is going to stick and what is not. Curiously, I have been thinking of grief for sometime. The word interrupts me, as if it wants to be acknowledged.

A few weeks back I picked up ‘The Bell Jar’ from the library and before I even started reading it, I googled her life — and death. It was morbid. Depressing. Full of grief. Even her writings are full of misery and suffering.

A week later my cat died.

Nearly four weeks before all of that, someone my family knew and grew close to, passed away.

Later, I morosely contemplated the death of a person, whom I was close to, once upon a time and then never at all.

Above all the sadness and talk of grief and death, I feel there’s a reason that any of us ever live to love. I like what Marcel Proust says: “Happiness is beneficial for the body, but it is grief that develops the powers of the mind.

To understand grief, is to understand humanity. It is to understand, how and why we love and then eventually lose, what we love. Coping with loss is an extremely personal and equally public experience. The natural process of healing suggests that you should give in to the 5 stages. Get into the form of an assembly line for each sentiment and make yourself go through it and relieve yourself of the angst.

I don’t consider myself depressed or resentful, just that I appreciate the happiness and sadness equally more now.

Our lives are so busy and we’re so well connected — electronically only, if I may add. You take out the cellulars and the gadgets, we remain as singular as ever. For some people, this element of singularity does not really go away. Some say, that more intelligent minds always feel alone, even in crowds. Some say, that’s a form of being anti-social. But I think that is the sign of maturity, when you see that at the end of the day, the person you have to live with forever, is yourself. You cheer that person up by taking more care. And that is more effectively done, when you’re in good, healthy company. Staying close to family and friends, makes you understand why human ties and connections are important. And why, even when we know that we are going to die one day, and leave the same kind of sadness for others to deal with, it’s important that we are happy in the moment that is given to us. Our human ties support us only when we communicate well.

Like Rumi said, some hundreds of years ago: “Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form.”

Live a little.

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