The Signs Were Always There
Death is, perhaps, the ultimate answer to all the questions of life, the one reality no one can dodge. Ivan Ilyich learned it in a hard and excruciating way, and for me, it was going to be quite easy. But why, all of a sudden, am I trying to sound so philosophical? Well, because that is exactly what I felt the moment I was face to face with it. Going down the hill from Bhadraj Temple, the roads were absolutely pathetic covered with potholes, steel frames generally concealed under material to provide structure to the path were openly exposed. Add to that nearly 8,000 feet of elevation, a rented scooter around ten years old, and a brake that was screaming to fail. What would one get? Recipe for a huge disaster. The speed was around 50 km/h, and the slope might have pushed it further up by 10 km/h. Then, all of a sudden, a hairpin bend came. I tried to turn the handle in the right direction, but to my horror, the upper body of the scooter was stuck. I frantically tried braking, but to a...