Reflections on life and loss

 Reflections on Life and Loss: Beyond the Periphery

by Nidhi Guglani 

Lately, I find myself thinking deeply about life and death. Two very different prayer meetings I attended have left a lasting impression on me, shaping the way I view both ends of the human experience.

The first was for my friend’s father—an old man, almost 80, who had lived a full and meaningful life. He had his family around him—children and grandchildren who loved him dearly. He lived life on his own terms, with a quiet kind of kindness that never made others feel indebted or overwhelmed. That in itself is such a rare trait. Though his final days saw him as a mere shadow of the man he once was, his daughter chose not to let that image define him. Instead, she celebrated his life—his strength, his love, and his gentleness. It was deeply touching. There was a calmness in that celebration, a sense of peace in knowing that he had completed the circle of life.

The second meeting, though, was shattering. It was for a young man—the only son of his parents—who had just gotten married. His wife was barely three or four months pregnant. The grief was unbearable. His mother, father, grandmother… everyone looked like time had stopped for them. The suddenness of it all—the sheer weight of losing someone so young, so full of dreams—was too hard to take in. A heart attack, just like that, and life was snatched away. It made me realize how fragile everything is. We run behind ambitions, push ourselves, chase dreams. But life can slip away in a heartbeat. One second, and we’re gone.

I often reflect on these moments. Funerals make me pause. The grief of those left behind—especially when they are people I care about—feels personal. But even when I don’t know the family well, the pain still finds a way into my heart. I suppose that’s empathy—one of the deepest ways we connect as humans. Losing someone, watching someone grieve—it hits hard. It brings the reality of life and death sharply into focus.

These moments make me appreciate life more, but they also fill me with a quiet fear. A realization that everything we know is fleeting. And perhaps that’s why we must love a little deeper, live a little fuller, and pause every now and then to simply be.

It also helps me rethink and reconsider that every moment I live now is precious. The ones who surround me, the environment, the people—even the smallest thing I receive from this world—is a gift I must treasure and be thankful for. There’s a growing awareness within me that life, as we know it, is just the periphery within which we act. We do our best in our day-to-day lives, but even those who strive to reach beyond that periphery—those who break boundaries and achieve greatness—their final destination is the same. That truth is both humbling and intriguing. It lingers in my thoughts, reminding me of the quiet mystery that life is.