Birth and Death: The Two Lovers

By Ayush Sinha

“A word I want to see written on my grave: I am alive like you, and I am standing beside you. Close your eyes and look around, you will see me in front of you.”
—Khalil Gibran

Creation and destruction are not two different things. With every destruction of something old, there is a creation of something new. As a matter of fact, destruction is creation itself, the relationship between them being that of a cause and its effect. In the same way, we can see, death and birth are also not two different things. Every moment, in an organism, there is creation and destruction, and birth and death, nothing being permanent. One fears death because the mind wants security, or something that it thinks is permanent and permanently going to be with it.

That security is the past, the congregation of memories. The mind doesn’t want the death of that past. On the other hand, if there were destruction and creation going together, there would be no past or memories at all. Every moment would be new and fresh, beyond the realm of thought or of the known. Without the past, there would be no fear either. That would mean that one is beyond birth and death, timeless, all-pervasive, infinite.

One’s saying that one needs to be one with life, that one has to realize the Self, is like saying that a wave of an ocean needs to be one with that ocean. The wave is the ocean itself. Therefore, there is absolutely nothing for the wave to be one with. One is that; one is life itself, dynamic, timeless, all-pervasive. All that one needs is the destruction of camouflage, seeing, not thinking about, things as they are, which is meditation itself. Moreover, life should not even be put into words. The very act of the wave of putting the ocean into words divides it from the ocean, doesn’t it?


The word “ocean” is not the real ocean one may be talking about. We can see that a description is not the thing being described by one. Words are, therefore, no reality at all. In fact, words are what divide one from the thing one observes.

One can see what is before one only when the mind is completely silent, when there is no thought at all. There are but distortions in observation with thought and words. Only in seeing, not in thinking, is the understanding of the clouds hovering and the birds chirping over one’s head. One is then pure seeing itself, or as the Buddha said, one is then pure awareness itself.

The self, it can be clearly realized, is just a myth. It has no independent existence whatsoever. All that one needs to do is to be a witness of oneself and the outside world. The inner and the outer movements are the same then. The concept of psychological time—yesterdays, today, tomorrows—fades away, then. That exists only when there is thought or the past, only when there is lack of awareness.


Still, the finite mind of man wants to grasp that which is infinite, creating dogmas, beliefs, and rituals. The only way to see the Infinite, therefore, is the abandonment of the mind, along with all its prejudices, judgements, and likes and dislikes.

About the author

Ayush Sinha is a poet currently living in New Delhi. He is a traveller by heart and loves wandering alone. His poems have been published in tens of anthologies and magazines. Apart from that, he has a book to his name as well. A non-fiction work aimed at depression, "The Treasure House of Happiness" is his first book. Wandering to him is like being in the lap of Mother Nature Herself. He says that one can see that one gets lost in a crowd, not when one is alone. He also says that each one of us is on the way to realizing that one doesn't live, but is life itself.

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