“Death is the end.”
Yes, “The End”.
And we think we know it. Everyone knows it.
Right?
No, not at all. Not even close.
Most of us don’t even grasp what the end truly means.
No matter how logical, educated, or rational we pretend to be, we still haven’t understood this one simple truth:
After Death, we “will” be what we “were” before our Birth. Just…… Nothing.
If you are one of those who think you’ve truly accepted this simple truth, then let’s see how deep that acceptance goes.
Join me in this imagined conversation with someone who claims to see death as an absolute end.
I Don’t Believe in Ghosts
Wait, are you talking about people who believe in reincarnation? The afterlife? Ghosts? Souls? Near-death experiences?
Sorry. I’m not one of them. Those are just stories for me.
No, I’m not talking about those only.
I’m talking about everyone, each of us, including me.
I don’t know about you, but I believe in science. I know I would not be there anymore.
Believe? In science? That’s interesting.
Anyway, let’s not get stuck on that. Let’s talk about death.
Maybe you’ve accepted the fact that nothing will remain. But have you ever really sat with what that means?
I mean, have you really felt it? Not just as an idea in your head, but in your bones.
Yeah, I have.
Alright then. Let’s test that. It’s not that difficult. Just a couple of things from your own life, that’s all it’ll take.
They’ll show whether you’ve truly accepted death as an end or not. Not just in words, but in actuality. As actual as you see this chair here.
Or maybe, somewhere deep, you still feel like death is just… a quieter version of life. Just continuing in some other way.
Sh…. Don’t Use The De***h Word.
Look at the phrases we use instead of “Death” along with their inherent assumption:
- Gone forever, Passed away, Departed:-
sounds like they’ve just gone somewhere else. - No longer with us:-
as if they’re simply… with someone else.. - Resting in peace:-
still here, just resting. - Expired:-
like a carton of milk. Still there, just not “usable.”
Doesn’t it show that we have not accepted the true nature of Death?
But I’m not one of those people. When someone dies, I just say they have died. That’s it. Nothing else.
I may feel sorry for them, but that doesn’t mean I’ll use these phrases to cover the simple truth.
Feeling Sorry for the Dead?
But why do we feel sorry for someone… who doesn’t even exist anymore?
Perhaps you believe life is a wonderful experience, and those who are no longer with us are missing out on something extraordinary.
But think about it. Don’t you need to exist to miss out on anything?
Are we sorry for all the people who haven’t been born yet? They’re missing out too, right?
Hmm… not exactly.
So, why do we treat the dead any differently?
Feeling sorry for the relatives of dead people is one thing. But feeling sorry for the dead themselves? That’s a whole different thing.
Honestly, I don’t think I fall into that category.
Now I can see that I’ve felt sorry for the families of dead people, not for the ones who have died.
The Only Thing That You Are Afraid of Is Death.
Okay, let me ask you this:
Do you fear Death?
No, I don’t think so. I don’t even think about Death that much.
So you probably don’t need to explain this one.
Alright, fair enough. But what about all these other fears most of us carry around every day? Like,
- Fear of the Unknown
- Fear of Darkness
- Fear of Failure
- Fear of Physical Pain
- Fear of Ageing
- Fear of Public Speaking
Aren’t they all, in some way… just different masks of the same thing?
The fear of death.
What??? How are they linked to death?
Think of a person who is ready to die at any point in his life. He is ready with his “Ultimate End” right now.
Now tell me, do you think that person would be afraid of public speaking? Of failing at something? Of getting older, or walking alone in the dark?
Probably not, right?
Doesn’t that tell you something? That all these small, everyday fears… are just ways the fear of death shows up.
It doesn’t walk in with a big label saying “Death.”
But it’s there. Hiding underneath. Quiet, but present.
I still feel like most of these fears are not exactly about death. They feel more like fears of suffering while being alive.
Okay, let’s just take these individual fears to the extreme and see what they are trying to tell us.
Fear of the Unknown
Suppose the unknown turns out to be something terrible. So terrible that it completely wipes you out. What’s the worst that can happen?
Death, right?
Fear of Darkness
Let’s say there really is something hiding in the dark. A monster, a killer, whatever. What is it going to do?
Kill you. Again, death.
Fear of Failure
Imagine you fail so badly that you lose everything. Your money, your respect, your sense of worth. It gets so bad that you start thinking about ending your life. So, where does that fear ultimately go?
Death!
Fear of Physical Pain
Think of the worst pain anyone could possibly go through. The kind that makes you want to escape your own body.
But that pain is not random. It’s a signal. It’s saying: “Hey, something’s wrong. Fix it, or you might die.” It’s a survival alert.
And if we are not afraid of what the warning is about, then why would we be afraid of the warning itself?
Fear of Ageing
What is that, really? It is just slow death in small steps. A quiet reminder that everything is moving toward an end.
Fear of Public Speaking
Imagine this: You give a speech. And everyone hates it. Like, really hates it.
You’re humiliated. Rejected. People laugh at you.
You feel like a worthless piece of garbage. So worthless, it’s like your existence doesn’t even matter anymore.
Isn’t that a kind of death too?
But You Can’t Be Afraid of Death?
Okay, let’s say I accept that all these fears are just branches of the same thing, fear of death. So what?
That only proves that if you have any of these fears, then:-
– you’re afraid of death only, and
– you’ve not understood what it actually is.
But… how does that make sense? How does fear of Death prove that I haven’t understood it?
I think it just shows that I don’t want to die right now. That’s it.
Alright, think about it. What creates fear in the first place?
Isn’t it just… a thought?
A thought like:
What if I lose something?
What if I suffer?
What if things get worse than they are now?
No matter what kind of thought it is, if it’s creating fear, then there’s always an “I” in it. And a “what if”.
And if we’re afraid of death, doesn’t it show that, deep down, we still imagine ourselves surviving it? Not physically, maybe — but as self.
A self that still has to go through it. That still has to bear the “what if.”
And that’s the whole point.
What About “My” Family?
No, it’s not that I’m afraid something’s going to happen to me. That’s not what scares me.
I’m scared of what will happen to the people I love… after I’m gone. That’s why I bought life insurance. For them.
Hmm. You said — “my loved ones.” But for something to be mine, doesn’t there have to be an I?
And if that “I” no longer exists after death…
How can anything still be mine?
So even in fearing for “your” loved ones, you’ve already assumed there’s still going to be you in some form, after death. Some part of you that still holds that connection.
I’m not saying you shouldn’t buy life insurance. Of course not. I don’t want to see your family suffering in case you’re gone.
But I’m not going to take it for myself. And if you think about it, you won’t take it either.
Okay, maybe I won’t say “my” family. But still… a family will exist. And they will suffer.
How can I just walk away from that? From a family I’ve lived with, right now, in this life?
When you buy insurance, you don’t just pick anyone as the nominee. You specifically choose your family.
When you buy insurance, you project a future without you. A future where your family might suffer. And that image hurts.
It hurts because you’re seeing it from the perspective of who you are right now, someone who has a family.
But you’re unable to see this:
The person who feels that pain in the projection… won’t even exist in that future.
Let me try to explain to you with an example.
If I imagine being burned, it scares me. But I know that pain won’t exist after I die. So even now, I can say, do whatever to the body after death. It won’t matter.
It’s good to see that you’re not concerned about your body after you die. Most people don’t even get that far.
But, in the case of the family, it’s different. It’s not just about the emotions I’m feeling while projecting my family’s situation. I know those emotions wouldn’t be there after I die.
But the family would be there for sure. So, why shouldn’t I be concerned about them right now?
Would you say the family you raised in a dream last night is starving right now… just because you’re not in that dream anymore?
What? That’s not the same. You’ve seen real families suffer when someone dies. You can’t compare that to a dream.
But what if, in a dream, you also saw some families suffering?
Would that make it real? Would it mean your dream family is out there somewhere, suffering without you?
Come on. That’s complete nonsense.
Dreams are just your brain’s imagination. It’s just the stuff this brain imagines during our sleep.
They have nothing to do with real life.
Looks like we need to go deeper into it. This is about to get interesting. Stay with me.
The Whole World Would Sink With You!
What if I tell you that everything that you’re seeing right now, the whole scenery, would cease to exist after you die?
In fact, there won’t be any ‘after’ as well.
Are you out of your mind?
Wait. Just pause for a second.
Imagine what would happen after you die.
Seriously, close your eyes. Picture it.
What would happen if you died right now, this very moment?
Hmm..……
If you can imagine anything at all, then you haven’t understood death yet.
But wouldn’t there be a funeral?
Wouldn’t people mourn? Wouldn’t life go on without me?
We assume all that because we’ve seen others die.
And life goes on, so we think, the same would happen with us.
But here’s what we forget: Your death isn’t like someone else’s.
And how’s that?
Again, think of it like your birth.
The Whole World Was Born with You
We see babies born every day and think,
Just another one added to the world.
But was your birth just a number to you?
Did you feel like you were dropped into a story already running?
No. Your birth wasn’t a continuation. It was the beginning of your entire world.
But the world was there before I was born. I’ve read history. I’ve seen pictures of my family.
Did you know any of this before you were born or after it?
After I was born… obviously.
But I’m talking about the time when you were not born.
Was there any world?
Yes, it was there. I’ve seen my parents’ wedding album.
Okay, let’s close your eyes again. Try to imagine their wedding.
What do you see?
I see our old house, my young parents getting married, guests, decorations, all of it.
Okay. Now tell me.
Did you actually see a vision?
Or, did you detect light through ultraviolet waves?
Was it in colour?
Or, was it all Black and white?
Were your parents normal-sized or giants? Where were you looking from?
The ceiling? The floor? Or, your own eye level?
Just normal, man. I saw it like I see everything.
Colourful, human-sized, and from my own height.
So even when you imagined a time when you didn’t exist, you still pictured a world that looks exactly like it does to you right now.
You imagined your world in a time when there was no “you.”
Not the world of a bat, or a mouse, or a mosquito.
Not even how a child might’ve seen it.
Just… your current human version of it.
Now imagine this:
A thousand years from now, there’s a species of animal that, at a certain age, sees everything in bright orange.
Would you say that an orange-tinted world exists right now too?
Can you spot the paradox?
World Is Not Just ‘Out There’
Hmm… I think I get it. But can you explain?
The world you’re so sure about, the one before your birth and after your death, is just an imagination.
And that imagination is shaped entirely by how you see the world right now, as a 27-year-old male Homo sapiens who has lived a specific kind of life.
But how else can I imagine it? I can’t imagine it as a mosquito.
Just like you can’t dream from a mosquito’s perspective either.
After the dream, you at least know it was your mind that created the whole thing.
But, when it comes to imagining the real world,
before your birth or after your death,
you treat it like it was and will be there in reality.
But wait… isn’t that the same with the real world too? I mean, I’m seeing it now, as this 27-year-old human.
Would you say that’s not real as well?
I wouldn’t say it’s not real. But I would say the world you’re seeing is completely dependent on you. It’s your world.
Do you think a mosquito would have the same world as yours?
No, it would have a completely different world as per its own senses.
And what if I ask you whose world is right?
For me, my world is right. For the mosquito, its world is right
But would you exist after you die?
No
Then… whose world would be right?
For whom?
I don’t know. You tell me.
Wait… what did I even ask?
Exactly. That’s the whole paradox. We assume the world was there before us, and will continue after us. But we forget, a world only exists for a perceiver.
Saying that a world would be even without a perceiver is like saying a dream would be there even without a dreamer.
Honestly, I’ve lost track of what we were even talking about.
We were talking about this:
The world you see right now is not just the world. It’s your world.
Totally shaped by you.
And in the ignorance of that dependence, we assume this world has an existence separate from us. And that’s where the illusion begins.
You assume this same world, the one you’re seeing right now, was there before you came, and will continue after you’re gone. In the same form. With the same rules. Same sky, same colours, same logic.
But the truth is: Since this is your world, it all started with your birth. And it’ll end with you too.
Yes, the whole world would end.
No family, no funeral, no condolences, nothing.
So… What Now?
Was all this just intellectual masturbation, or does it actually mean something for how I live?
Okay, consider this:
You’re playing a video game. One life only. And everything you do in this one life decides your future.
You can collect gold coins, earn rewards, and maybe even become famous in real life, all based on how well you play.
One shot. No retries.
Wouldn’t you
-: take that chance very seriously?
-: be terrified of losing that one life?
-: try to grab every coin you could before dying?
-: feel pressure to beat others, win levels, and not waste your chance?
And if you weren’t good at the game… wouldn’t you curse the developer?
In that seriousness, maybe you’d do well. Earn coins. Clear levels. Become a pro.
But one thing is certain, you’d forget it’s a game.
You’d treat it like a chance to get something, not something to experience.
Sound familiar? Isn’t that exactly how most of us are living?
But what if you found out… everything you believed about the game was just that, a belief? There’s nothing to gain. No reward to carry forward. Everything would end with the game, just like Death.
But still, it’s the most beautiful game you’ll ever play. In fact, it’s the only game you’ll ever play.
So then, would you still chase coins? Still fear losing?
How can you lose anything… if there’s nothing to gain?
Wouldn’t you just play…. just for the sake of playing?
Wouldn’t you enjoy every movement, every level, every weird little glitch?
And when it’s done… it’s done. There’s just… nothing.
And that’s the beauty of it.
Nothing. Game over.
In a complete Death, there is no Death.
After all, have you ever seen a dead Mario?
