I came across a YouTube video yesterday showing the final scene of Titanic, and it made me pause and reflect—how would I react if I knew tomorrow was my last day?

That scene is hauntingly emotional. It captures how differently people face death when there's no escape. The elderly couple lies in bed, holding each other as water slowly rises around them. They choose love over panic. A mother gently tells her children a bedtime story, knowing it's the last one she’ll ever tell, keeping them calm in the face of the end. The musicians continue playing as the ship sinks, offering comfort through music, even as they know their fate is sealed. On the deck, people panic, pray, cry, and scream. Some rush to help others; some cling to any sliver of hope. And then there’s Jack and Rose, fighting for survival, holding on to love as everything collapses. It’s a powerful portrayal of how, in the face of certain death, some people panic, some find peace, and some choose love and courage.

I truly believe that we don’t get to choose our end, not even through suicide. Both the Bhagavad Gita and the Quran say something similar—our time is written by God. So, when death comes, we should face it with acceptance, with grace, and maybe even with a smile.

If I were to die tomorrow, I think what would hurt me most is not having truly lived. A monotonous life. Middle-class. Average marks. No great success, no committed love. And though all that might be fine, I’m not at peace with it yet. I haven't accepted it, and that unrest is what kills my peace more than anything.

I’ve always loved traveling. If I had the chance, I’d do that more often. I’d forgive those who made me sad, even if they never asked for it. I’d call or write to the people I love. I’d say the apologies I owe. I’d love unconditionally, without expecting anything back. That last one is hard, but maybe manageable if I only have a day.

I'd watch the sunrise slowly, barefoot on the earth, sipping hot coffee. I'd listen to Main Agar Kahoon and let the music melt into the moment. I’d dance to Kuthu songs like nobody's watching me. Watch movies that I felt at that moment. I’d eat rasamalai—my favorite sweet—and savor it like it's both my first and last meal. I will eat what I felt that time health-conscious thoughts, because, well… it’s my last day anyway.

I wish all of this could happen during a cousin's gathering. If I had more days, I’d spend them traveling the world. The irony is clear: when we live, money seems to control us, but when we face death, we try to spend it to find meaning. And at that time, I won’t find any meaning in war or religious, caste fights. And I feel that I have been taken for granted in some relationships. I feel I should be grateful to them. I will be kind to everyone.

I also think I shouldn’t waste my precious time thinking about regret or the ones who didn't reciprocate the love I gave.. Even for a second.

Above all, I would forgive others and myself. And in doing so, I guess I’ve romanticized death. But maybe that's okay. Maybe that’s what makes it bearable. Even though I wish all these, I should be peaceful with what I have before I die..

"The meaning of life is just to be alive. It is so plain and so obvious and so simple. And yet, everybody rushes around in a great panic as if it were necessary to achieve something beyond themselves.” - Alan Watts.

I wish to say an idea echoed in the Bible, Bhagavad Gita, and Zen teachings—Real life begins when we stop trying to control everything and learn to surrender.

"Those who seek death shall live and those who seek life shall die."

I am also curious what will happen after I die. Will I be able to see other people and feel, or will I suddenly become a baby or leaf or just dust in the universe? Or else will I go to heaven or hell? And actually, won't it be confusing for the gods because I would have done something which may be good for one and bad for the other? My friend once said that after we die, our brain doesn't accept the defeat and makes one last attempt to bring back life by giving happy memories or emotional memories for 7 minutes straight. I wonder what my brain will show me. At least for seeing that 7 minutes worth, while I should do something, I came across one comment which blows my mind even now.

Time is relative. What if we died and lived those seven minutes?

Yes, death is painful. I still don’t know how to accept the death of others. That part I didn't figure out. But when it comes to my own, I think it should be met with calm. It’s going to happen anyway—so why not face it with peace, rather than fear?

I don’t believe death is a punishment or a failure—it’s a natural part of life’s rhythm. To fear death is to fear life itself, because the two are inseparable. The truest way to honor life is not by trying to control it, but by surrendering to its mystery and fully experiencing each moment.

"To learn to die is to be liberated from it. So when tomorrow comes, you must free your ambitious mind and learn the art of dying." – Bruce Lee.

Awareness of death sharpens our love for life. Finiteness gives things their meaning—we value people, moments, and memories because they don’t last forever. Death teaches us to cherish while we can, to love without delay, and to leave behind something that matters—kindness, inspiration, or love that outlives us.

It urges us to loosen our grip—not just on people, but on ego, control, and fear. If we had forever, we’d keep postponing what truly matters. But because life ends, we are nudged to live it—deeply and honestly.

Maybe we were never meant to conquer life, only to feel it. To laugh when it’s light, to cry when it aches, and to show up fully—because that’s the only real control we ever have.

If tomorrow is the end, let today be love. Let it be raw. Let it be real. Let it be beautiful. Because in the end, beauty isn’t born from perfection—it comes from truth.

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