Death and dying

In the office yesterday, we were on course to calling it a night early when news of the assassination of former Pakistan premier Benazir Bhutto reached us. It caused a major rejig of the pages as we scrambled to put in the reports.

Of course I don't know her personally, but I couldn't help but feel a twinge at the shocking news of her death. I've been seeing her appear in the papers almost every other day in the run-up to the Pakistan elections and even subbed a number of stories written about her, so she's not exactly a total stranger.

The report, combined with the news I received earlier in the day about a former student of mine who died in his sleep on Christmas Day, served to fill my head with thoughts of death and dying. My ex-student was only in Primary Five this year, and he could be considered a "model" student with a strong sense of responsibility. I couldn't imagine how his parents must feel.

Death, when it comes, is swift and sudden for some of us, catching us unawares. Bhutto may have been prepared to risk death when she returned to Pakistan, but surely my ex-student could not have known that he would go to sleep without waking up the next day. And what regrets, if any, would they have?

I hope that my death, when it comes, will be swift and painless. Like them, I may not know in advance when the day arrives, but I do know that although I will feel upset at having to be separated from my loved ones and sad over tasks left unaccomplished or unfinished, I will leave with no regrets, because I have loved and been loved.