I am 39. It is now March the 21st but my birthday is on the 25th of September. This means I am actually still some months away from my 39th birthday. Yet, my wife has made me believe I am already 37. She keeps reminding me: “you will soon be 39”. So I started telling people: “I am 39”. But this increased my fear that the day when I will be older and frail is not far away. The day when I will have to leave my home and stay at an old people’s home, when I will be at the mercy of some home services and - wait for the day I die! So why wait. Isn’t it better to die now? “Don’t hesitate it’s in your hands”, I thought.

Anyway, looking back I can’t feel sorry for leaving social anxiety. On the contrary it fills me with joy to see the day has finally come. But I do not want to die in a place where graves are rented for some 30 years or something, be buried in graveyards crammed with dead people where graves are decorated with counted flowers that have no perfume. There will be no peace even in death this way. Life was not peaceful. Now I really need to rest in peace with nobody from right or left. Why go to prison again and leave my body stuck in polluted, wet and cold earth. Again I don’t need stones that give the date of birth and death or say: here lies… Who for? Nobody will be interested. It has no meaning apart from some compulsive obsessive order. Besides, a stone has to be paid for, which means you need to save for it. No, stones are like prison walls. They only help those who need to count the number of miserable people who are buried in a graveyard to make room for the new comers like me. Please no obituaries. What for? Who for? Once I went to a graveyard and firmly believed I could uncover some mystery by studying the birth and death dates precisely and more systematically. I always thought there must be something hidden in those figures which can predict my own death.

Suddenly an idea came to me in case I can make my decision earlier. It seemed I have already made my decision. My last decision. I chose to die in the desert where everything is dry and warm. I looked round and then climbed walking on soft yellow sand until I came to a little hill. It was perfect for my last resort because it was quiet, peaceful, nobody, no stones around to intrude on this heavenly moment. What I saw, were only some lizards and relatively small snakes burying themselves quickly in the sand when they saw me. I enjoyed the warm sand under my feet and felt free for the first time.

I lay on my back for some time and noticed how my whole body was crying for warmth. I looked up at a clear blue sky which I have never seen before and then when the moment came I started burying my body slowly in the sand. I sank and sank until all my body except for my head was buried. It felt like a sand bath. All of a sudden I was caught tightly. I tried to free myself but in vain. The sand took hold of me firmly. I struggled for some time and then: “Look is this not what you always wanted? Let go, come, don’t think, sink deeper and deeper. Be one with me. Come back to your long lost mother, son. You don’t really mean to fight forever. Rest in peace and freedom. Damn Be and Have”, a voice called. I dutifully abandoned and obeyed. Now I sank deeper faster than before as if drawn by a powerful hand. The sand still smelt and tasted fresh but was no more as dry. My sinking went on for some time until I found myself drawn to a place I have never been before. I went into ecstasies. There were some people around but I didn’t know anyone. Oh, I almost forgot to mention it: I have got to see somebody about something.

The place I found myself in looked like a world I always longed for, no father or mother, no brothers and sisters. When I was a child I always believed my real parents lived somewhere else. I have got to find them. One day I heard a poor woman calling my name in a way as if she always knew me. I thought perhaps she was my real mother. My long unfulfilled dream has finally come true. I was now not just an orphan but a real one, not half an orphan but a full one. In the world before people couldn’t understand when I repeatedly said: “I wish I were an orphan”. They said, "Orphans live in an orphanage". At last I am depersonalised. Now I want to live in my own orphanage. I’ll go and find it. If not, I will ask the way.

The story paints a picture of escaping from the harsh drudgery and inevitability of life. Escaping to a fantasy world where everything you hate about this life is suddenly non existent. It is wishful thinking and actually appears as if the writer is trying to encourage and reassure themself that they will go to a better place.

But, what if your wrong? Or maybe everyones 'other place' is as individual as the person. So what you wish for may be the exact opposite of what I wish for. Most people (although I agree, not all) would dearly love to be with their parents again. You don't have that 'hang up', which lends a certain weight of shock to the story.

Jamshid, your stories are provocative of thought and bear much thought themselves.
Regards, Jesse

Hmm Thank you Doctor for sharing a hug truth of life after death .Really indeed ,even there would have no any one mother have no father will work for son or duaghter. Every one would be alone just prays, good deeds and worships will work there