All In Vain

Siddhartha Gautama, may he rest in peace, was shocked when he learned that man dies. He felt, as the young, handsome, respectable prince of the Shakyas in Kapilavastu, that the heaven fell over his head and the earth was split to let out the flames from the hell. He no longer drank the ruby wine nor watched the sexy dance, but sat in meditation.
　　
　　When Gautama's fear once struck my jug head on a quiet, breezy night, I felt dizzy in bed, pondering all the way what was going to happen during my postlife time, which was in vain. Life is made up of just two phases, one of which is living, thereof the other is death.
　　
　　That perhaps is a bothering experience almost everyone here has ever encountered. Each time a night rain gently falls, you lie in bed alone ruminating the past day, that annoying, answerless question may come and will not cease to emerge until Hypnos, the god of sleep, stealthily smooths your unrest and takes away your consciousness temporarily for this very night. But that is not an end. Once there you live, you are destined to be confronted by such disconcerting tollings.
　　
　　Looking back, I can clearly remember on how many nights I have been disturbed by that terrifying idea. To deprive himself of this fear, Gautama resorted to an ascetic life, which he failed. He then, with his companions, went to settle down beside a river where Gautama began to meditate in austerity, and on a diet of a single grain of rice a day. That nearly killed him. On the brink of starving, after some struggles, he was helped by a girl who offered him some food and drink. With all the strength he could gather, and the courage to overcome death, after 49 days of meditating under a peepul tree, he attained Bohdi, or Enlightenment.
　　
　　Where am I to attain my Bohdi? Do I need to meditate under a tree, too? Or should I go on a strict diet to keep off fleshly distractions? Over the time, I begin to firmly believe that imitations won't help. The era of Gautama has been left behind and to obtain my Bohdi I'd do it from scratch and anew, leaving the past as the past.
　　
　　This is a book about death. Not a death seen often on this planet, yet one among those that happened and will keep happening out there. And this is also a book about living. Not a dull living lived billions of times on this planet, but one among those that sparkled and will keep sparkling all through the history.
　　
　　And in the void something murmurs, Life has two sides; one is living, and the other death.