Thirumoolar points to how impermanent and uncertain life is. In one of his verses, he says there was a man, who came home, ate the food his wife had made, had a conversation with her, lay down to sleep, and said the left side of his chest hurt.
The man never woke up. Coming home from work, eating the food cooked by his wife, chatting with her and then lying down for a good night's sleep were part of the routine that he had followed in his life.
And yet, as he ate the food cooked by his wife with relish did he know that that would be his last meal? As he conversed with her, would he have thought that would be his last conversation with her? And if he had, would he have laid down to sleep peacefully?
He had followed a routine every day of his life, but one day it had to end. We like the comforting routine of our lives. When we go to work and come back home to rest, we have a sense of satisfaction.
But one day, this routine is going to be broken, and we do not know when that is going to happen, said R. Narayanan in a lecture.
In a life of such uncertainty, should we not prepare for our soul's journey? We think of making our lives comfortable on this Earth, but do we think of what will happen to our souls, when our life here ends? Have we made preparations for the salvation of our souls?
When we die, who accompanies the soul on its journey? Wife, children, relatives and friends no longer even refer to the dead man by name. They are concerned about when to cremate the corpse.
The man who had been alive only a few hours ago is now only referred to as ‘the body,' which has to be taken away from the house so that the rest of the people can continue with their lives. Once the body has been cremated, people come back, bathe, and soon they forget all about the dead man, as if the thoughts of him have been washed away in the water.
Life is uncertain, and the people whom we have loved and cared for can do nothing for the saving of our souls.