Death continues to remain the element of my fantasy. Although it isn’t as dominant as it used to be when I was a kid. The last page of my copy of Midnight’s Children has my understanding of death scribbled – a thought that perhaps occurred to me while reading the book. I am not the one who deals with death with poise. During my teenage I had learnt that there is absolutely no point talking about how someone’s death affects me. The response from people was – it’s a part of life, you should know better, you have gone through so much. It was terrible to hear these words. Does any amount of experience help us be okay with death? A month ago when a relative died, I was amazed that I didn’t react to it. I had not known her closely, and the little that I knew wasn’t enough to make me grieve. I went about my day, checking up on my mother who stayed up the whole night. I was far from feeling any sense of loss. It put me in a dilemma – have I really gotten used to death? As I thought abo...