On Eulogies

I've sometimes wondered How I would die. Scary, I know. And I have an almost eerie track record of predicting the inevitable. As a kid, my prayers always ended off with, "Dear God, please don't let an Aedes mosquito sting me tonight so I won't die of dengue fever". That was about the worst way I knew of dying as an eight-year old. I ended up mistaking my dengue fever in 2006 as an exam fever.

These days, of course, I've learned countless new ways of dying. My car accident in Los Angeles was one such reminder. So were the bombs in Mumbai, the floods I swam in, the riots metres from me, and the armed stalker in D.C.

Perhaps too much of self-help literature and philosophy have gotten to me that I have always found the greatest lessons in Eulogies, or of books related to dying. Think "Tuesdays with Morrie" and "The Last Lecture". The best way to live is when you've learned to die. Of course no one really knows what it's like - but just imagine how much more passionate and vivacious one's day would be if one knew Today's It.

I just spent nearly an hour pouring through Mrs. Lee's eulogies. I left feeling deeply saddened that we have lost her. Our lives have not crossed up till now. Yet it's proof that if someone can make an impact when she's not around, just think about the opportunity right here, right now to make an impact when you're still alive.

Some takeaways: always be there for your spouse and children, shine bright, live humbly, treat people with kindness, work hard - yet know that work isn't everything, make time to write letters, read widely, smile often, develop intuition, think long-term, make a difference.

I've sometimes wondered How I would die. But I guess the better question is, How would I live.