On death, Steve Jobs and Steve Jobs' death.

On this day that the whole world mourns in unison, I can't help but contemplate over the two opposite facets of death — ironically the most inseparable part of life — as they flash in front of my eyes.


The last time so much was said and heard about someone's demise was when Osama Bin Laden — the most intimidating terrorist of all times, one whose very mention was enough to send shivers down the spine — was shot dead in what went on to be, one of the most talked-about missions ever undertaken in the history of mankind. At that time, the philosopher in me had prophesied:-Forget the basics of humanity and be staunchly 'religious' all your life. You too might die the most celebrated death ever.


On this day again, as people of the world seem wholly taken with the reminiscences of the man — Mr Steve-Apple-Jobs — the creative genius of an innovator who had the eye for an "I" that was going to change the very face of technology, and hopefully still will, the philosopher in me again wants to prophesy, for myself this time, that: if I were to die a death even a needle-point as mourned as this; if my dead soul was to be prayed for, honored and glorified even an atom's size as of the man who is no more, I'd know, sitting in heaven or hell — whatever may be the case — that mine was a life lived like none other . How I wish.


And this is not just to bask in the glory of the moment that I say all of this, I really mean it. Every word of it.
R.I.P Steve Jobs. 
Ironically, it's only now that you're dead, that the part of the youth hitherto untouched by your inspiring words, would know of the great who backs the mind of every budding entrepreneur today.  The man left a lot to learn from. For all of us.