CEMETORYCemetery is the last peaceful place for our restless souls. It is the place of our final end. It is not just a place of tombstone and grave, it is the burial ground of our love ones. When I visited the cemetery for the first time.
The first thing I noticed was the tombstones and the graves. Some graves had flower on them. Few trees were scattered throw out the land. I heard the wind as it passes through the tombstones and made hissing sound. I felt quietness and peacefulness in this confined area, which was fortified by invisible fences. Unlike the other places, the link to the out side world was cutout here.
As I sat there I began to see something different about this place. I saw history of mankind being buried here. I roamed through the cemetery. I tried to find an oldest grave.
I came upon a grave, the date on it was 1899 which wasnt the oldest grave compare to the other tombstone I came across. What strikes me the most was the age of its occupant. The tombstone read, 1894-1899I am five years oldIt gave me the sense of mortality. The tombstone might be over two hundred years old, but the little girl was still give years old. Regardless how old I got over the next few years.
The little girl will always be five years old. She was immortal. Time stood still for her. Cemetery holds the history of the people being buried there.
We struggle through out our live. We hate each other, on the basis of the color of our skin, our race and our religion. We celebrate our revenge as loudest as we can. We destroy in order to prosper.
But people here were in peace. My mother always told me the story of Sikinder-e-Azam. He is known to western world as Alexander the-great. She told me how he conquers the world and how powerful he was. But when he died on the border of Persia he took nothing with him.
He entered his grave with empty hands. He is lying in his grave just like everybody else, peacefully. The cemetery always reminded me the realty of life. Life is short and we all must die someday, so it is the part of our life cycle.
Every begging has its ending and we should always remember that. Life exists only for a fraction in time. In the end the life that we cherished so mush only betrays us. The death that we tried so hard to avoid, takes English