Dev is Dead, Insane...

Today I am not feeling well, and I am lying in bed with a fever. The fever is not high, and actually there is nothing to worry about except that I am alone. I wonder what will happen if the temperature shoots up suddenly.

 
I am thinking that I may die, and if that happens, then what will happen to my friends? I have many friends, and they love me too. I wonder how Steemians will know that I am dead and what will happen to my Steem.

Maybe a few Steemians who will know about my death will post, "Dev is no more, and we regret to inform you that Dev passed away suddenly last night. He has left behind a wife, children, and a large group of friends and fans to mourn."

It should be known that Dev joined Steemit two and a half years ago, and in the meantime, he made a lot of progress on this website and earned a name. Today he will be missed in the whole Steemit.

Offline, those who came to his residence to express condolences include his friends and relatives. Steemcutter 01 said. "Our website is feeling sad at the demise of this man, and the cruel hands of death have taken away a rising writer from us."

I feel sad for myself and my friends. But I also feel happy that so many people will mourn my death. So I decide to just die and have some fun.

In the evening, I give up my life and then after coming out of my dead body, I sit on the cold stone steps at the door to enjoy the show.

Source

This morning I opened the Steemit and checked, but there is no post. Yes, in today's paper, my former company has published my name in one inch list of dead persons' column.

I feel angry and think that this must be the HR because he was jealous of me. But I did not think that he would stoop so low that even after my death he would refrain from publishing my name properly.

My best friend Mark did not get out of bed till 9 pm as usual because he worked till late at night, and his wife also loved to sleep.

On waking up, he saw the newspaper, and he glanced at the headlines while lying down, taking slow puffs of a cigarette. He noticed what happened to me and in the toilet because he always read the paper sitting comfortably there. When he saw this part of the column on page 3, he stopped smoking for a moment and thought, "Should he get up immediately and call his wife? No, he decided that it would not be right because he was a rationalist. He had become more so after marrying this woman."

He was thinking that if Dev died, he could do nothing about it. He knew that his wife would start crying loudly after hearing this news because he knew his wife very well, and he was right, even if he told her casually, she started crying as soon as she heard Dev was dead.

Why did you start making such a noise? He asked sternly, 'Will crying like this bring Dev back to life?'

His wife knew that it was useless to argue with her husband. He always won the argument.

She said, “I think we should go to his place immediately. His wife must be in a bad condition.”

My friend said, “I may not be able to go. I would definitely want to console the widow, but I have to reach the office in half an hour.”

He was in the office all day, and his family stayed at home. My other friend Robin lives a little away in an upper-class area, and his family consists of his wife, a son, and a daughter.

Robin is an early riser. He has to get up early because this is the only time he can call his own. During the day he is busy with his business. In the evening he goes to the club, and then he has to spend some time talking to his children and wife. He also gets a lot of visitors because he is very popular businessman, and he likes his popularity.

He thought that destiny must have made him for something big. So he worked very hard. He also tried to make people look at him and say how successful he was. But this is not enough for him. He will do something else, he will write, become a writer, and he thought he could write.

So Robin started writing, but to write well, he first started reading. He bought a lot of books and spent hours reading them before going to his office. Then he started writing on Steemit. Every post of his was about his business and his wealth bragging, boasting and telling people about his money.

That morning, Robin was in a mood to write something. He made a cup of tea for himself and settled against his laptop, but when he could write nothing, he closed the laptop. Then he picked up the newspaper and found out what had happened in the city and the country and why the stock market was going down.

Robin was most interested in national and international news about Trump and Politics. Or he used to read who got married, who was born, and who died. So he opened the third page and looked at the column of deaths. He immediately saw that Dev had died. He informed his wife about his death.

His wife was practicing yoga so she stretched and then said, "Will you take a day off from the office today?"

My friend said, "I have to go to office but if I found time, I will be there on my way; otherwise, we will go on Sunday."

So Robin also did not come. Similarly, many other people also got stuck somewhere. Around 10 o'clock, a few people gathered in the open space in front of my flat. Actually, these were people I was not expecting. Some were neighbors, and some were passersby who stopped to see what was happening.

There were two of my friends too, but they were different from the rest. One of them was my deputy manager and was still in the job. He was a real opportunist but did not believe in cremation formalities. The other was also an ex-coworker and looked at everything in the world from a selfish point of view, and emotions had no place in his life. Events like death were not important to them but his important purpose was that now that Dev is dead, can he grab the Australian assignment?

"Will you go with the dead body?”

"I will go to the office, but are you going?"

'"Oh no, actually I had to go to a meeting at ten o'clock, and I thought I would be done by nine-thirty, but no one knows the value of time in our country, see it's already 10."

"Right now I am also going to the office; I will return in the evening."

After a while, a 30 seater bus arrived, and the owner looked completely unmoved by the seriousness of the occasion. He was sitting comfortably and looking at the crowd, thinking that he could comfortably carry all these people in his thirty-seater.

People did not have to wait long. My body was brought out wrapped in a white cloth and placed in the bus. Flowers were placed on it. Now the procession was ready to move.

But before the procession could move, another friend of mine arrived there. By his appearance, this man looked like a learned professor. He had great respect for the dead person and wanted to express it and joined the crowd. When my wife came down to bid me a final farewell, he was moved to see her condition. He took out a small book from his pocket and opened a page of it. Then he passed through the crowd and walked towards my wife. He looked at her with tears in his eyes and gave her the book.

'I have brought a copy of Gita for you. It will give you courage,' he said, as if he was about to cry, and stepped back, trying to hold back his tears.

Then he sighed and said to himself, 'This is the end of human life. This is the truth. 'Like a bubble,' he said to himself, 'our life is nothing but a bubble of water.' Just as a man takes off old clothes and wears new ones... in the same way this soul change the body after death...' etc. I was smiling hearing him.

The procession was going on. I was feeling uncomfortable locked in a glass coffin. By the time it passed the main road, I felt better, but I began to feel sorry for myself. The funeral processions of people less important than mine were usually much more crowded. Now there was only one man with me, the driver of the carriage, who did not know what a famous writer he was carrying on his last journey.

Source

I was fortunate to have some time to reflect on the misconception that I would be honored after death because there were not many people. But by now I was getting upset lying in that coffin. Now I had three options. One was to go to the crematorium itself and burn myself in fire, after which I might be able to take a better birth, although the chances are that nothing like this will happen, and I will dissolve into nothingness.

The second option is this one, which turns right from this road. This is the part of the city where there are casinos and clubs where people drink, gamble, and do a lot of other things. It is a different world of its own, in which one tries to enjoy as much as possible.

The third option is to return. But I found it difficult to decide at this stage so I thought, tossing a coin in this situation might come in handy. If it lands on heads, I will move on to another world; if it lands on tails, I will join the group of sensual pleasure seekers. And if the coin lands neither heads nor tails and stands upright, I will return to my old world, where there is neither enthusiasm nor desire to live; there is only a herd mentality of writing a post every day.

"Lousy", I thought, What an insane way of making a decision for my future life!

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