“Pani kera budbuda, us manas ki jaat. Dekhat hi chhup jayega, jyon taara prabhat.”
— Kabir Das

“The life of a human is like a bubble in water—it disappears in an instant, just as stars vanish at dawn.”

I’ve heard this doha many times, especially from my teacher. But we humans are so deeply conditioned that—even when we hear such profound truths—we don’t really listen. And even when we do listen, we often don’t understand… not until it hits us personally.

When Death Comes Like a Flood

The recent flash floods in Uttarkashi struck me hard. (Ref pic Dharali village – Ganges)
This wasn’t just a headline—this was personal. I’ve visited that village every summer. I’ve sat by the Ganga at the very spot that may no longer exist.
And now, the village is gone. Wiped out in moments. Just like that!

Back to Kabir’s words—how accurately he describes it.
Do we truly grasp the fragility of life? Do we ever stop to see that this whole existence is like a bubble in water—transient, delicate, and gone in the blink of an eye?

Death comes like a flash flood: no warning, no time to prepare.

When It Hits Home

I’ve seen friends spiral into depression, crushed under the weight of unexpected loss.
I’ve been there myself—facing the death of people I loved most.
Even now, it baffles me how something so natural and certain can still be so difficult to accept.

We all know we are going to die. We know our loved ones will too.
But we live like it will never happen.

What If We Looked at Death Differently?

What if, instead of avoiding the thought, we sat with it?

Truly sat—quietly—and asked ourselves:

• Am I prepared for death?
• Can I live a little lighter?
• Can I release the grudges, the pain, the baggage I carry?
• Will I be afraid if death comes suddenly?
• Am I so attached to this world that I won’t be able to let go when the time comes?

These aren’t easy questions. But maybe they are the only questions that matter.

A Simple Practice

After you finish reading this, I invite you to take a minute. Just one.
Close your eyes and sit with the thought: “I will die. So will everyone I love.”

It’s not meant to scare you.
It’s meant to wake you up—to soften you, to help you live more intentionally.

Maybe We’ve Misunderstood Death All Along

Maybe death isn’t the end.
Maybe it’s just like trading in an old, worn-out car for a new one.
A better one.
Maybe it’s not something to fear, but something to prepare for, with peace, clarity, and lightness.

Live light. Let go often.
Because in the end, we are all just bubbles in water—here one moment, gone the next.