There are moments in life that force you to pause, moments that pierce through the comfortable hum of ambition, routine, and distraction, confronting you with the startling fragility and quiet eternity of existence.
Today was one of those moments.
I stood beside a friend, who is like an elder brother to me, as he and his family bid a final farewell to their beloved father – a man whose presence echoed through their lives with a love so deep and palpable, it shaped their shared collective sorrow. It was an occasion heavy with finality, one that urged reflection, as funerals often do. The air was heavy with grief, a shared vulnerability that no one in attendance could avoid. As I watched them say their goodbyes, I couldn’t help but confront the deep uncertainties that shape our lives and our strange, often futile, attempts to control them.
Life, for all its grandiosity and drama, for all its dizzying highs and soul-crushing lows, is still the faintest of marks on the infinite canvas of existence. It is just a fleeting speck against the backdrop of eternity. Our days in this world are numbered, not in a threatening way, but in a way that makes every moment painfully precious. If only we could remember it in the busyness of living. For all the sweeping narratives we construct – about our careers, dreams, relationships, and plans – we remain impossibly small. And yet, in that smallness lies an undeniable immensity: the depth of our emotions, the strength of our connections, and the audacity of our hopes. They give meaning to our fleeting days. Life’s brevity, paradoxically, is what makes it profound.
There’s something profoundly humbling about these moments – they are a raw reminder of the uncertainties and vulnerabilities that define our existence. Secure in our routines and often cocky in our grasp of life, we humans have a curious tendency to overlook our frailty. We cling to control, to the illusion of certainty, as though we could tame the inexorable flow of time. But of all the forces shaping our lives, time remains the most elusive, slipping through our fingers like sand, indifferent to our will. With all our intelligence, ambition, and technology, are still utterly powerless against the one force that governs us all: time. We like to believe we’ve mastered it. We fill our schedules, set deadlines, measure productivity, and build legacies as though time bends to our will. Yet, in the presence of loss, time reveals itself for what it truly is – a force we cannot tame, a gift we cannot prolong, a reality we must surrender to.
Standing in the room, watching the waves of love and loss ripple through the room, I thought about how easy it is to forget this truth amidst the everyday clutter of life. We live as if we are infinite, treating time as though it were a limitless resource. We delay joy, put off relationships, and sacrifice experiences for ambitions that may never be fulfilled. We chase the illusion of control, trying to mold life into what we want it to be instead of embracing it for what it is – a series of moments, some heartbreaking, some beautiful, all of them fleeting.
But clarity often arrives at the edge of grief.
It’s like the universe uses these moments to whisper truths we are too distracted to hear otherwise. Funerals offer a stark, unvarnished perspective, peeling away the layers of permanence we convince ourselves we’ve built, and leaving us with the raw truth of impermanence. It’s in these moments of immense loss that the haze of daily life clears, and we are reminded of what truly matters. It isn’t the perfection of our plans or the size of our accomplishments. It’s the people we love, the moments we share, and the courage to face life’s uncertainty with grace. It’s the ability to live not in defiance of time but in harmony with it, to appreciate its passage rather than fear it.
This doesn’t mean we should abandon ambition or stop striving for growth. Far from it. But maybe it means we should stop treating life as a problem to solve and start embracing it as a mystery to experience. Maybe it’s less about control and more about surrender, not in a way that suggests passivity, but in a way that acknowledges life’s unpredictability and welcomes it with humility.
There’s a temptation to see our smallness as limiting, but I don’t believe it is. In moments like these, the vastness of existence feels almost absurd. Yet, within that vastness, there’s a beauty, too – a poignancy in our fleetingness. Maybe it’s not about controlling time but about surrendering to it, learning to live with humility, gratitude, and a sharper awareness of what truly matters. Our brief existence on this vast canvas isn’t insignificant – it’s miraculous. The fact that we get to love, to create, to dream, even if for a little while, is extraordinary. What we do with this time, how we spend it, and who we share it with – that, I was reminded again today, is what defines the immensity of our lives.
Funerals are sobering reminders that life is not infinite, but they are also an invitation to live more fully. They compel us to pause, to reflect, and to recalibrate our lives around what truly matters – love, connection, and the fleeting beauty of the present moment. They call us to gratitude, to presence, and to the quiet courage of living each day as if it were both a beginning and an end.
The truth is, none of us have control over time, but we do have a choice in how we meet it. Will we spend our days chasing permanence, or will we embrace the impermanence that makes life so precious? Will we try to master time, or will we let its passing deepen our appreciation for the now?
These are questions I don’t have answers to, at least not fully, at least not now. But today, as I stood with my friend and his family – each family member a living testament to the abundant wisdom and enduring love of a father whose legacy is as profound as it is gentle – I felt both grief and gratitude. I was reminded that life is not about answers – it’s about showing up, about being present for the moments that matter, and about recognizing that even in our smallness, we carry the immensity of being human.
Knowing what I know about the departed soul – a man who lived with quiet wisdom, unwavering love, and a deep appreciation and gratitude for life’s simplest yet most profound moments – that is what Sardar Mohan Singh Ji would want all of us to remember, adopt, and practice every single day.