Death comes in many flavors, like ice cream. There’s swift, silent death, like the swoosh of a bat’s wings, where you fly into the night, leaving trails of an uneasy hush.
There’s the long, spiral, slippery slope—gradual, painful, the life ebbing away oozingly, never quite dead, always getting there.
There are bursts and tumbles and explosive deaths, and you sizzle out of the sky like a damp squib, while they murmur platitudes in white-clad circles to those left gaping.
Death can be a stranger, unrecognizable around the corner, until you come face to face with his ghastly visage and you already know it’s too late.
Death is a seductress you want to succumb to. She’ll spirit you away to sensual things.
You wish you could pick your flavor. But in this here candy shop, you’re stuck with a cone, sticky stuff dripping all over your hand, until you reluctantly, resignedly, take a bite.
Wisdom Wears Neon Pyjamas 
how beautiful…your writing is magical.
Best to have it dripping in all its stickiness than guard it safely in a plastic cup. And nothing propels the seduction like unexpected bits of double-chocolate brownies that disappear too quickly. And what of those sinners that beg for hot fudge and melt prematurely into a coma of indulgence?
There’s swift, silent death, like the swoosh of a bat’s wings, where you fly into the night, leaving trails of an uneasy hush.
There’s the long, spiral, slippery slope—gradual, painful, the life ebbing away oozingly, never quite dead, always getting there.
The first one sounds so good for the one who went thataway, like my brother- but so hard to reconcile to, almost seven years later.
The second one is so draining to witness, yet leaves the carers relieved- that a dear one’s constant suffering is, finally, over. Letting go is simpler- it is the end of pain. My poor father suffered for several months.
The third one is scariest- the malevolence of humans, or nature, or fortune’s angels. Not my chosen flavour for sure.
If one had a choice, I’d opt for a quick, short illness, with time enough for my family to come and say farewell, and not so long that they are desperately waiting for me to go!!!
sukanyabora: Girl, you are too kind.
Null Pointer: Now how did you see what I had for dinner today? 😕
dipali: But that’s just it: it’s extremely rare that we have a choice. And you, my precious Dipali, are miles away from an ice-cream parlor!
Sweetly macabre is this blog
Which i refuse to relish nor less hog
Ice-cream and death
In the same breath?
Unless, of course, it’s the Death-by-Chocolate bog!
I sure hope so. But the trouble is that often enough the ice cream van comes trundling along, seeking the next customer on the list!!!
I say OJ, it’s all very well that we don’t have our choice of flavor, but can’t we do something about that annoying jingle of the ice-cream truck? Is the only way to rid ourselves of that predictability and that forced cheerfulness to indulge in swiftly melting sweetness? In other words, is living in a sugar-coated haze the only way to ignore death?
and pardon me for intruding, but dipali55, would you permit me to toss a box of the sharpest nails to stall that ghastly ice-cream van?
@Null Pointer: That is so sweet of you! Methinks it is unstallable, but I do appreciate the thought!!!
Aunty G: There you go again
With your sweet stuff ken
Likes no gore from me
Does my Aunty G
A true mother hen!
dipali55: Dammit, everything’s mobile these days! 😦
Null Pointer: White noise and food coma. Does it for me every time.
great writing!
Reema: Glad you enjoyed it. 🙂 Thanks for your comments, much appreciated!