again a day in mortuary

i meet a lot of people in my day.they keep quiet,all of them.i spend hours with them and in end know almost all except them as a living human.i can see thier laughing lines,but never know thier jokes.i could feel thier gaze but never the warmth in them.i can see ,feel, touch thier heart but it never beats it could not give life.i see it all the hair,mouth,lips,skin.i observe the color ,texture,staining and rigor.
i see the finity of life each day.i handle the body which in its lifetime was handle by people who  fed him,taken care of him,ward him off evil,protect him from dangers and loved him.what for ?i always thought while dissecting the body.all the pain for this!we all know the inevitablity of life but i study it spent years gaining knowledge all that for when a grieved mother ask me why he died ?why god take him earlier then me ?i can give her a cause but the cause cannot bring her boy back ,it certainly cannot cure the haemoohage in his head.he cannot ever would grow for a single day.all my knowledge for this .to tell what happen in my medical jargon knowing preety well that knowbody give a damn why it happen for them the greatest truth staring them on thier face is it had happened.he is gone.


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