We humans are generally fearful of death and fascinated by the possibility of our immortality.
Gifted and cursed by our imagination we humans want to know what happens when we die.
What is it that dies?
Do we have a soul, and if yes then what happens to it when this body dies?
No one can say with certainty what happens. However the real life story of my niece Harpreet could provide us a clue.
The real life story of my niece, Harpreet.
My niece Harpreet (name changed) was born a day after her mother witnessed a horrific road accident of a young woman hit by a speeding bus. who died later that night in the hospital.
My cousin who was in an advanced stage of her pregnancy went into shock after witnessing the accident. She immediately went into labour and was rushed to the hospital, where she delivered my niece Harpreet a day later.
When she was born Harpreet had extensive blue and black bruise like marks all over her body. When she was born Harpreet had extensive blue and black bruise like marks all over her body. Fortunately for Harpreet, now 41 years of age, barring some faint marks on her thighs and stomach most of the blue and black marks have long disappeared.
A strange thing happened when Harpreet turned two years of age. She began to frequently cry, expressing a 'longing for her children', repeating "My children are sad, they are missing me, I want to go to them."
At first Harpreet's behaviour was cute and entertaining, but soon the parents grew concerned became paranoid and seized by panic.
Deeply religious, Harpreet's parents could not tolerate the suggestion that Harpreet had been possessed by some evil spirits.
All sorts of prayers were offered. Harpreet was taken on various pilgrimages, but Harpreet kept on sobbing for her children. When Harpreet turned four, an old aunt came to visit. She refused to dismiss the utterances of the child.
Interacting with 4 year old Harpreet and deciphering the utterances of the child, the aunt with great persistence was able to zero in on the area where 'Harpreet's so claimed family' lived. It was a small house in the old part of Pune city.
Harpreet's parents took the child to that house and discovered to their amazement from the residents there that it belonged to
the same woman that had died in the bus accident which my cousin had witnessed the day before Harpreet was born.
Yes, the woman's entire body had turned blue and black from the massive bruising and internal bleeding before she died later that day in the hospital.
The parents and residents were amazed to see how Harpreet fawned Harpreet fawned over the 2 children of the deceased woman that had resided there.
Harpreet's father could not reconcile himself with the contradiction with what he had witnessed and what he had grown up learning and believing. After they returned home he decreed that the family would never discuss this matter again.
As our families are close, my parents and I have been privy to these events. This real life has been shared with permission of Harpreet.
Indeed, 'Truth is stranger than fiction'. Fiction has to conform to some rules laid out by human society and thought, but the truth is not obliged to.
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