We all find hope in positivities around us. Different types of them. In our own ways. I believe there's hope to find in tragedies as well. Of a different kind, glowing with saudade, but nevertheless immensely powerful.
All of us are born with only one certainty: one day, we shall all die. Yet this haunting truth doesn't stop us from laughing, learning, longing. We still play as if that's the only thing that matters in the whole wide world. We still study as if one small piece of paper will be able to hold the story of our struggles through those snoozing days and those sleepless nights. We still work as if the ladder to success is watching every step we take. We still love as if our tears fall upon their faces as smiles that lighten up this universe.
So I ask: if death can't stop us from living, what else can? Well, the answer is, the loss of faith. In life. In light. In love. It's this loss that marks the true defeat of our existence. For it's this void lingering within our innermost selves which then becomes so wide that it makes our souls stop dancing in synchronisation of their invisible mates. Until that happens, it's us who will continue to haunt death, and not the other way around.
This is why, after all this time, I still maintain: Dhaka has fallen, but the true day of surrender will come only when our hearts will no longer be able to hold its fond remembrance.
