Last words.

Last words..

However well a man may have lived, his death, or at least the last words spoken on his deathbed, lingers for a long time like perfume in the air. The words end up taking even greater importance if the person was a legend in his life time,or has martyred to a cause, was a soldier or a statesman , or was a religious Saint venerated or desecrated during his life time, or sometimes, it could be common man whose daily life is lost in the obscurity of history but elevated by chance to pedestal of glory through few dying words - giving them immortal fame. History overflows with such individuals. And, for some strange reason, we, the educated public have great fascination for those final words. We have the capacity to forget and forgive everything else about a man, if his dying words carry significance beyond the grave. They become hallowed individuals for us, like Gods - worshipped, venerated, to be emulated . We like to cling on to them in our memories as they presented themselves to us in those last few dying moments, and pass on that adulation and remembrance to our children, pointing out how well they lived - based on how wonderfully or courageously or full of wisdom they died.

Let me illustrate with few examples. The legend of Mahatma Gandhi needs know introduction anywhere across the globe. In Richard Attenborough’s magnificent presentation of his life on screen, the first few acts enact the tragic shooting of Gandhi by a militant Hindi, Godse. Shot point blank as an aging Gandhi, escorted by his aides walked up to his prayer meeting , He looks up perplexed at his shooter, and mumbles “Hey ram”, and his frail body collapses to the ground. That striking image and those resonant last words set the tone for the entire movie. Those remarkable last two words, in the midst of immense pain placed Gandhi and his life’s work in a different league altogether,not merely as a Political emancipator of India, but more as deeply spiritual man whose destiny was to carve out a path of Non-violence in a world driven to despair by two world wars and moral insecurity it gave birth to. He was beacon of light in an age when Violence was its virulent best..Gandhi’s dying words, was an icing on his cake, so to speak.

Again, the life of Socrates presents a Man whose death by drinking hemlock is celebrated as the most morally heroic deaths ever possible for anyone. Plato immortalized that scene for posterity. No well meaning man can remain unmoved by this epic fictional narrative. Though Plato was not physically present when Socrates drank his poison, the grateful student chose to garnish the event with poetic sensitivity in his dialogue “The Phaedo”. Phaedo, is the fictional character who narrates the last few hours of Socrates death. After describing at length, Socrates stoic preparation for death, and when the poison had him paralyzed up to his waist, he says the final words to his Friend Crito “ Crito , we owe a cock to Asclepius. Do pay it. Don't forget..” In that one brilliant stroke of Philosophic and literary genius, Plato elevated Socrates to be the most pragmatic and courageous of all philosophers. Even as his body was degenerating rapidly, his mind was calm, composed and utterly at peace with impending death. His final fictional words along with the manner of his death has given Socrates a place in history books for ever. At least, that is what Plato wanted to us remember Socrates for and by..

Or listen to the dying words of Sir Thomas More, the chancellor to Henry the VIII, whose only burning passion in life was to divorce his barren queen Catherine and marry Anne Boleyn. All of us know that story, and how it changed the course of English history and its church forever. Sir Thomas was a Humanist in the tradition of Petrarch, and was against this seemingly senseless act by the king. His life met a tragic end at the guillotine for intransigence and not willing to bow down to the king’s wishes. When he was dragged to the tower for execution, whole of Westminster watched with teared eye. The executioner hesitated to bring the blade down on so respectful a neck. And when Sir Thomas realized the hesitation, his last recorded words to the executioner was “ Pluck thy spirits, Man, and be not afraid to do thine office, My neck is very short…”. The crowd burst into tears and roared, the executioner closed his eyelids to prevent tears overflowing and cut the neck of England’s greatest Humanist in one swift blow. His final words and its repercussions still echo in the corridors of English Parliament.

French Renaissance’s crown jewel was Voltaire. European history cannot be written without his name in it. One of the most powerful voices of freedom ever to erupt in Human breast; his mouth was as sharp as his pen and so were his powerful and Libertarian thoughts. Utter disregard for the church and God, his life was one series of persecution after another by both organized church and its obedient slave, the State. Wriggling away each time using his tremendous wit and intellect, he survived each attempt, wrote prodigiously and died at a good age of 82. At his death bed, he was repeatedly asked by priests around him to accept God and forswear or give up Satan, and his reply was “ There is no time to make new enemies..”Nothing could have consummated his life better than this recoded reply. In this pithy response, Voltaire’s entire life is condensed.

Thomas Jefferson - the man wrote the Declaration of Independence and widely considered as the most incorrupt and intelligent statesman USA had even seen. While Lincoln was a political wizard, Jefferson was an well rounded intellectual, whose love for America went beyond anything conceivable. His independence document is testimony to that fierce pride and dignity he wanted America to possess. It is divine justice that he lived to see fifty years of Independent America. On the Fourth of July 1826, He woke up to ask his doctor “ Is it the fourth…?”, to which Dr Robley answered “ yes sir, it soon will be… Jefferson then said “ I resign my spirit to God, and daughter to my country…” As the dawn brightened into day, Jefferson quietly passed without speaking another word. It is coincidental, or one may call it tryst of destiny that on the same day, his closest political rival John Adams also breathed his last with Jefferson’s name on his dying lips. Both of them remain America’s most beloved Presidents for the way they lived and the way they died.

Some words , like Franz Kafka’s, the great German Jewish author, was found written alongside his pillow to be read only by his friend Max Brod. It said “ Dearest Max, Everything I leave behind me… In the way of diaries, manuscripts, letters, sketches, and so on – is to be burnt unread..” Fortunately for us, Max ignored his friend’s will; went on to publish Metamorphosis, the Penal colony, the Trial and all unfinished novels that Kafka had assiduously penned during his convalescence in a sanatorium. Hi last words, again was representative of the way Kafka lived. Depressed, unhealthy, victimized for being a Jew, losing his immediate family to concentration camps - he had no reason to be optimistic about himself or life. He wrote to cleanse himself, and little did he realize that he writings were to fundamentally revolutionize the form of self-conscious existential novel. His final words reflect his weariness in life, nothing more.

As a student of History, I could keep coming up with more personalities and their last words almost endlessly. But I guess, I have made my point. Death is the final mortal challenge that Man faces, and his actions and reactions during those final moments are true reflections on the way he has lived. It cannot be otherwise. During my younger days, I remember reading a lecture by Osho, where he remarks on the act of dying. He says “If you have lived rightly, if you have lived moment to moment totally, if you have squeezed out the whole juice of life, your death will be the ultimate orgasm…” I am not advocating the man or his teachings, but I think, In this quote Osho did manage to capture the essence of dying. In all Men and women we admire, Death always has come to them like a whiff of fresh air, or even if the end is tragic, there is strong inner quality of presence that shines through them. Their lives are a fulfillment of an inner cause to which they have been utterly faithful and committed.. And death is a just a passing over and not something to be dreaded, feared or avoided.. That is why we call them heroes.

God Bless….

Yours in mortality,

Bala