A celebration takes place for a child of one year’s birth. We gather our cakes and candles A certain old man waxes eloquent, proud of his new grandchild . Some loud music, a little child magic, a piano shown off with a learner’s music.
Snacks are varied and eclectic. The child will now enter the preschool in the land of the sheikhs. The old man, proud of his three houses, introduces a real estate don. The don blesses the child.
Aren’t we looking out for pretty houses? We are aliens in our space suits. We reserve our space in the vast continuum, for a few millions. The old man announces a prize for anybody who carries a spouse’s photo in the valet. Anybody? Yes, of course. We all love our spouses but we carry their pictures in our hearts.
Anybody who is a grandmother and a granddaughter and is alive in both capacities? Yes, of course. There is somebody down there, who is the third in a lineage of five generations, A loud applause.
After-life? When asked how are you doing now, Hitchens says, “Fine, I am dying”.”And so are you, says Hitchens to the questioner. Hitchens refused to acknowledge after-life merely because he was dying. A great soul, if he could be called a soul , now that he had refused to acknowledge after-life. If our bodies are more than stuff, that is.