I knew this was not to be my fate。 He brought the inkpot down onto my
head once again。 I was in such a state of profound torment that I could only
vaguely discern the impact。 He; the inkpot and the room illuminated faintly by
the candle had already begun to fade。
Yet; I was still alive。 My desire to cling to this world; to run away and escape
him; the flailing of my hands and arms in an attempt to protect my face and
bloody head; the way; I believe; I bit his wrist at one time; and the inkpot
striking my face made me aware of this。
We struggled for a while; if you can call it that。 He was very strong and very
agitated。 He laid me out flat on my back。 Pressing his knees onto my
shoulders; he practically nailed me to the ground while he raved on in a very
disrespectful tone; accosting me; a dying old man。 Perhaps because I could
neither understand nor listen to him; perhaps because I took no pleasure in
looking into his bloodshot eyes; he struck my head once more。 His face and his
entire body had bee bright red from the ink splattering out of the inkpot;
and I suppose; from the blood splattering out of me。
Saddened that the last thing I’d ever see in this world was this man who
would be my enemy; I closed my eyes。 Thereupon; I saw a soft; gentle light。 The
light was as sweet and enticing as the sleep I thought would straightaway ease
all my pains。 I saw a figure within the light and as a child might; I asked; “Who
are you?”
“It is I; Azrael; the Angel of Death;” he said。 “I am the one who ends man’s
journey in this world。 I am the one who separates children from their
mothers; wives from their husbands; lovers from each other and fathers from
their daughters。 No mortal in this world avoids meeting me。”
191
When I knew death was unavoidable; I wept。
My tears made me profoundly thirsty。 On the one hand there was the
stupefying agony of my face and eyes drenched in blood; on the other hand
there was the place where frenzy and cruelty ceased; yet that place was strange
and terrifying。 I knew it to be that illumined realm; the Land of the Dead; to
which Azrael beckoned me; and I was frightened。 Even so; I knew I couldn’t
long remain in this world that caused me to writhe and howl in agony。 In this
land of frightful pain and torment; there was no place for me to take solace。 To
stay; I’d have to resign myself to this unbearable torment and this was
impossible in my elderly condition。
Just before I died; I actually longed for my death; and at the same time; I
understood the answer to the question that I’d spent my entire life pondering;
the answer I couldn’t find in books: How was it that everybody; without
exception; succeeded in dying? It was precisely through this simple desire to