There is death in the air. Flames engulf and consume two beautiful and lovely kids. The family is shattered. It will be a blot in their life which can never be wiped off from memory lane. The incident makes headlines in the TV networks and in the newspapers. It is sad. Sad is to put it mildly. Two young children nipped in the bud and so many possibilities that life beheld for them just snatched away in a few minutes. A tragedy of mammoth proportions.

The incident shakes me up and greatly saddens me. My mind brings back to me all the other incidents of deaths that my duty as an administrative officer call upon me to conduct inquests into. That is, of course, not what I want to discuss. But the tragedy that these deaths leave in their wake. A young mother loses her small child ; she is distraught with pain but is restrained in her sorrow. A mother wails gathering her daughter in her arms ; her daughter had committed suicide. The grieving husband who had just lost his wife to fire burns. The man who has been murdered by his servant and leaves behind a tearful family. Sudden occurrences of death which leaves these varied families shocked and sorrowful. I am a witness to all this. I am saddened too. But what I feel is a sort of secondhand shock. I look upon these tragic incidents as somewhat of a stranger who stops by and shows regret but is unable to reach their very depths. They do touch me although I try very hard to keep myself emotionally detached from them. They always leave a mark on me; invisible and raw. For years have passed by but i can still vividly recall every incident. They have left such sweeping statements on my memory.