I saw it’s face, today. In your eyes. And I remembered you asking me, if I have ever seen death.
The face was as blank as a piece of an un-inked plain paper, without any wrinkles that you see if you look at the paper closely.
Featureless, the face drew me in and held on to me. I could not see what I was looking at few moments back, your eyes. All I could see was that blank face with it’s terrifying emptiness.
It felt strange, uncomfortable.
When I whispered out your name, you slowly replaced that face. Relieved, I said,
“For a second, I could not see you. I was scared.”
I could hear you speak but it did not correlate with your face that I was looking at. It was just an illusion, your face. Panicked, I shouted,
“Who are you?”
And it vanished. My illusion was replaced by you, in real.
“What happened, you fine?”, you asked, worryingly.
Relieved, I closed my eyes thinking that next time I open them, I will tell this strange thing to you.
But the next time never came.
The learned, the philosophical ones say that there is only one thing that is true in everyone’s life – everyone who shines in the light of birth on Earth, will be wrapped in the mystic darkness of death, someday.