The human body is but matter, they say. Every time we move, we leave behind our remnants in the form of dead skin cells, shed hair…In a way, we change every place we leave; also the person who leaves is not the same as the person who came. But it’s not just our physical remnants we leave behind. At times, we leave behind a part of our soul as well.
As I sit and ponder on the past, I feel like I have left behind a vital portion of my soul back in the hospital where mom last travelled to. Perhaps the experience was so traumatic that the mind can’t help rewinding to it.
I remember the hard bench I sat on and the cold floor that I slept on for a fortnight during the nightly vigil, the commotion experienced all night as a hospital, much like a hotel, never truly sleeps and starts very early. I can remember the apathy and the tiny generosities that I experienced. And all this, like it happened but yesterday. Every time I spot an ambulance it’s like an alarm bell that quickens my pulse, makes me wary anew.
I wonder if one truly ever overcomes grief. Just a few days ago I was feeling a weight lifting off my chest and the sorrow of loss seemed almost bearable. Perhaps it’s like a stream or the ocean, emotions ebb and surge as part of the grand mystery of life. And just like no one really knows where the soul goes eventually, we will never truly know where do all these emotions originate from.