Death and the Self
Rustam
Singh
This
essay continues the meditation on the self from the previous essay, “Self and Time”.
The self brings about its own
death, hastens towards it out of its wish to die, and yet it does not wish to
die: it wishes to live forever. The self wishes to have its way all the way
till death, and then it would not like to die. And if death is inevitable, it
would like to die its own way and at a moment of its own choosing. However, the
self realises that this may not be possible. Nevertheless, it does not wish to
give up control over its destiny. This situation turns the self into a
desperate entity and it drives itself to the point where it wishes to die.
But
there is another thing that needs to be considered here. That is, whose death
is it going to be? Will it be the death of the self, or the death of the being
which is, so to say, the being of the self? Or is it going to be the death of
both of them?
In
other words, is there a being which is the being of the self, a being which is
part of existence? Or has the self, in the process of becoming what it is,
distanced itself so much from being that the latter is not any longer one with
it, that the self has become a self without being or is a self but not being?
Looking
for answers to these questions, we can straightaway point out two things.
Firstly, there is no doubt that the self, as it is, is situated very far
away from existence. Secondly, before this entity that we now call ‘self’
became what it now is, it was part of existence. Therefore, now that it has
become what it is, now that it is a self and is located at a great distance
from existence, does it still have a connection with the latter, a connection
in the sense that it retains some ingredient of it, that it carries a substance
which resembles somewhat the substance of existence?
Let us
think about it in this way. What is the most peculiar thing about existence?
The most peculiar, and the most visible and clear thing about existence is
that, firstly, it is there at any given moment, and, secondly, it is no longer
there the very next moment as it was at the previous one. Given the fact that
the self is, in its nature, an unstable entity, one can say that it shares this
trait with existence. But there is another trait that existence has: it comes
into existence––it is born––and then it goes out of it––it dies. In other
words, there is no eternity, no endlessness about it. And this too is a trait
that the self shares with it. It too is born and it dies, but what it does not
share with existence is this: when it is born, existence is already there––is
prior to it––and when it dies, it leaves it behind entirely intact.
This
shows that the death of the self makes no difference to the life of existence.
In other words, the self was already redundant for existence while it was still
alive. But was it redundant too as the entity that it was before it was born,
before it came into existence?
We have
to be extremely careful here. When we say ‘self’, we mean that entity which has
moved away a great distance from existence. Therefore when the self dies, it is
the death of this entity, the entity which had created this gulf, this
hiatus with existence. One reason why its death makes no difference to
existence, why it leaves it indifferent to it, is precisely this gulf. This
gulf is too vast for this death to make any impact on existence. And it is too
vast because it was created by this entity called the self. This means that it
is only the self which could have created this gulf. If the self had been a
being, or if there were a being which was the being of the self, it would not have
created this gulf. Therefore we have to say that, firstly, the self is not a
being, or that there is no being which is the being of the self, a being which
is part of existence. Secondly, the entity that the self was before it became a
self could not have been redundant for existence. In other words, the self
created this redundancy when it created itself.
Let us
not forget that this redundancy which the self has created is the redundancy of
the self itself. Thus the self is a superfluity; it is a thing which is not
needed and yet is there. On the other hand, it is there but because of this
redundancy of itself, it is as if the self does not exist. That is why one can
also say that the self is an emptiness, a void, a vacancy, but a vacancy which
has weight.
The
self is an entity which, because of its weight, finds itself banished from
existence. Furthermore, it is an entity which, despite its weight, turns into
an emptiness.
What
could have saved the self from this emptiness that it is? What would have held
it firmly within existence?
Precisely
being.
But, in
such an event, the self would not be a self but something else. It would not
have created itself, and, in the process, created that distance from existence
which has made it redundant for the latter. Given this distance––given
the fact that the self is there––it wishes to die, and yet it does not wish to
die: it wishes to live forever.
* * *
Wishing to die, the self takes
steps to realise this wish and goes on rushing towards its death. However, the
death towards which it rushes is not the death which is inevitable, but
the death which it brings about.
Thus,
there is not one but rather two deaths which loom over the self, and it is the
inevitability of one––an inevitability that it deeply resents––that makes it
speed up the advent of the other. As a consequence, the death which meets the
self––or the death which the self steps forward to meet––is the death which
replaces the inevitable death, happens before it, and is, as such, only a false
death, a death which crops up but, as a created death, lacks the substance
which would make it real. In this fabricated death, it is as if the self fails
to die and because of this failure is yet to die the other death which this
death has upstaged but which is yet to take place.
This
being so, the self, having once died, must die a second time.
But
this second death never comes about. It stays at a distance, seeming to wait
for the self to come near, to approach it, as it had approached the first
death, but the self never approaches it. The reason for this is quite clear.
This death––which is death proper––does not wait for the self, cannot wait for
it, for the self which does not exist for existence does not exist for this
death either.
Nevertheless,
so far as the self is concerned, this death never disappears. In fact, it is
the only death which the self sees as death. And it is the sight of this
death which frightens it and from which its wish to die appears. With the
appearance of this wish, the self starts moving towards its death, which is
apparently the death proper but is actually that false death which the self
creates for itself and embraces in the illusion that it is meeting its death.
This is
how the self is abandoned by death––as it was abandoned by existence––but dies.
It dies at the hands of that false death which is death too but is a kind of
death which is not preceded by life and therefore does not succeed it: it
succeeds only an illusion and itself comes as one. Having lived without life,
the self dies without death, but dies nevertheless. After this death, it is no
longer there, neither as a self nor as anything else. That is why even in this
illusory death the self meets a proper death, a death which is not
proper but is proper to it. Even though the self was an entity without
life, this death kills it: it makes sure that it does not have life. In this
way it confirms––exactly as if it needed this confirmation––that the self had
no life and that it was precisely because of this lack that it needed to die,
and die in the way it does.
We can
see that what gets confirmed in this confirmation is that the death of the self
is the death of an entity which is already dead. This would mean that the self
is born as a dead entity, and lives as such until it dies. It would also mean
that it is born in the sphere of death, and lives in it, and then dies in it.
If this is so, then the world of the self is the world of death, and the self
is a deathly, a deathlike entity.
However,
isn’t it true that this world––the world of death––is created by the
self and that it is created precisely when the self creates itself?
Therefore,
the very birth of the self is an act of creating death and of creating a world
which is deathlike. The self comes into the world accompanied by death, a death
created by it. It comes into the world of death, a world which is created as
soon as the self creates itself. It lives in this world of death as an entity
which is dead and is deathlike. And it dies at the hands of a death which is
there only till it dies.
Why is
this death around only till the self is alive? Why does it die along with the
self? It dies along with it because this death which was created by the self
was created in order to die, and once the self dies, this death has no reason
to exist. It appears from this as if the self knew, when it created itself,
that it was going to be abandoned by death and therefore created the space for
this other death for itself. And it follows that, in such an event, the self
would have known too that having created itself it must die, that it must not
keep alive forever.
The
self would have known it because it would have known as well that in the world
it was creating––the world of the self––there would only be the self and no one
else. It would have known that it would be a lonely world and that in this
world it would be lonely.
This
shows that the self was aware of the consequences of what it was doing.
Secondly, this makes the self an entity that experiences loneliness.
* * *
Having created it––along with the
world that it was creating––the self makes attempts to free itself of
loneliness. To free itself of it the self must die. On the other hand, being
the entity which is focused on itself, the self does not wish to die. This
conflict makes the self even lonelier than it would otherwise be.
But why
does the self feel lonely? Why is it the entity that cannot be
without loneliness?
The
self is an entity which has no being within itself. It created itself by
emptying out being and making a hollow. Therefore, it is an entity which has a
hollow within itself, or, to be more precise, it is made of this hollow: it is
nothing but a hollow, a void, an emptiness. Nevertheless, it is not an
emptiness that is sufficient unto itself. It is dependent on being but in a way
that being is a thing that is outside of this emptiness and must stay there for
the emptiness to be what it is. As such, the emptiness that it is is propped on
an absence: it is a consequence of it and follows from it.
Therefore,
it stands to reason to say that what makes the self feel lonely is the absence
of being.
But
what does it mean to say this?
It
means, firstly, that even though the self had emptied out being, it has not
been able to get rid of the latter, in the sense that being remains present in
the life of the self but not as a presence but rather an absence. Secondly,
this absence is such that it is felt by the self. This is how the self
fails to become an entity that is sufficient unto itself. In this failure the
self misses being, wants to be close to it or one with it, and since
this is not possible without ceasing to be a self, it wishes to die. In this
wish, however, the self continues to be a self. As such, it does not wish to
die: it continues to be lonely.
This is
not to say that the self is alone in its world: it is surrounded by an
infinite number of things. But all of them are things that the self itself has
created, and as such these are not the things that can cure its loneliness.
They are as dead as the self itself is. As a matter of fact, they are deader
than the self in that they are not capable of feeling lonely. Devoid of being,
the self fails to put any being into them. Deprived of being, they cannot feel
for the self. But this is not all. The self at least had voided itself of
being, or had created itself in the process of voiding it. But the things made
by the self lack this valency. They are entirely dead and are dead too for what
is not themselves. Being dead as such, they are as good as being absent,
but this is an exaggeration. They are not absent: they are very much there,
around the self, but entirely dead for it. And this is not a desert in which
the self lives. (A desert has a being.) This is a desolation. These things,
which surround the self, symbolise what it has ravaged in the course of
creating this desolation. They are the ravaged face of a world that could have
been the world of a ‘self’ but has turned itself away, leaving towards the self
that face of itself which is not a face but a ravaged landscape. This landscape
is not visited by the inevitable death. What death will visit a place which has
been voided of life? Not the death which is the antithesis of life, but only a
death which will kill what is already dead.
Written in 2006, this essay first appeared in my book 'Weeping' and Other Essays on Being and Writing (Pratilipi Books, Jaipur, 2011). The book is available at www.bookspunch.com, www.flipkart.com and www.amazon.in
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