the bhagavad gita, one of hinduism's most sacred texts, muses on death:

"death is as sure for that which is born, as birth is for that which is dead. therefore grieve not for what is inevitable.”

in my background, death is a topic that is rarely but uncomfortably discussed. in india, however, i was shaken to confront death openly. from out the window of a city bus, i watched dead bodies, wrapped in brightly coloured silk, paraded through the street on their way to be publicly incinerated.

i became fascinated by sadhus, an underclass of 4-5 million hindu ascetics who renounce life to pursue liberation through itinerant travel, meditation, marijuana, and poverty. as the human representatives of Shiva, the Hindu god of destruction, sadhus represent, in a sense, death incarnate, which is always a weird realization to have when involved in an otherwise pleasant conversation. how could society actively condone such broad spiritual pursuit?, i wondered. and, with considerable trepidation: were they finding what they were looking for?

being modern means forsaking the present to engage in the management of cultural evolution. being postmodern means acknowledging that actively managing evolution is impossible, and engaging in the present. between these: the idea that what matters is a life lived respectfully, honestly, and lovingly, but not indefinitely.

grieve not.