The sad inevitability of life

Underneath the skin there's a human

Buried deep within there's a human

And despite everything I'm still human

But I think I'm dying here

We're all born humans. We live as humans and die as humans. Humanity has many definitions. My personal favorite is this one: Humanity is the human race, which includes everyone on Earth. It’s also a word for the qualities that make us human, such as the ability to love and have compassion, be creative, and not be a robot or alien.

My first brush with the sad inevitability of humanity is when I was 9; my mother had just received the news of my grandmother's passing. I remember hearing her scream "why god! Why?"

Then, I realized that all our days are numbered. Each of us is labelled with an expiration date, much like food.

My second brush with the mortal side of humanity is when my grandfather died. I remember hanging his cane which assisted him in the much difficult process of walking. How strong and frightening he seemed when i was young and how, in the end, he needed a cane to stand tall.

Then, and only then, I realized that we're born in glory only to die in agony. We're born in a state of assisted living where we grow out of the worm embrace of our mothers' womb where we need shelter, food and water only to die in a similar state of assisted living.

I firmly remember having my grandfather lean on my shoulders to assist him in his daily tasks.

At that point of time, I realized that's going to be me someday. Myself, in all my youthful glory, am going to end up frail. I'm going to die someday. To elaborate myself further, I'm quoting daughter again:

I should go now quietly

For my bones have found a place

To lie down and sleep

Where all my layers can become reeds

All my limbs can become trees

All my children can become me

What a' mess I leave

To follow

We're born young. Small and helpless. As we grow, our bodies fail us. It's a sad but true reality.

As we grow we cross certain milestones; be it outgrowing our education, growing a family and succeeding professionally but most importantly, we see people we know and love die. The clock keeps ticking. One day, we just finished kindergarten. The other day, we're standing over the grave stone of our parents. Afterwards, it's our children and friends who're standing over our graves. The cycle continues.

Time is so finite; we have to achieve so much but we only have 24 hours a day.

As the great David Bowie once said:

Tonight the Zeroes were singing for you

Doesn't matter what you try to do

Doesn't matter

Doesn't matter

Doesn't matter what you try to do

Doesn't matter

Doesn't matter

Doesn't matter where you try to go

Doesn't matter

Doesn't matter

Doesn't matter who we really are

Doesn't matter

The clock doesn't stop. It keeps ticking till one day it out-ticks us