Euthanasia or mercy killing has been the issue of debate since forever. Everyone argues for or against or for with reservations. But fact of the matter is that no one can argue the case of a hen better than the hen itself. While arguing for or against mercy killing, people forget the wants and needs and wishes of the subjects and in this, they are no different from Adolf Hitler. Hitler had in 1939, made the following statement when ordering the widespread 'mercy killing' for 'life unworthy of life’."The authority of certain physicians to be designated by name, in such a manner that persons who, according to human judgment, are incurable can, upon a most careful diagnosis of their condition of sickness, be accorded a mercy death”. Yes, his reasons were different, but the fact that the cessation or continuation of someone's life cannot and should not be controlled by any human is what makes those who argue for, or for that matter, against euthanasia, as guilty as Hitler. Who are we to decide who should live and who should die? No physician, howsoever qualified he may be, can predict what course Nature might take with a person. I do not have an opinion on this. Yet, if I find a paraplegic pleading for mercy killing, I will support him, because what he is asking for is really his business. I quote Voltaire, "I do not agree with what you have to say, but I'll defend to the death your right to say it." You cannot legalize or criminalize such a thing. It is a matter of personal choice, it should remain so.
Something I wrote-
Live each day as if it were your last, they said.
It made people do all things silly and stupid,
But it gave them a smile when they went to bed.
But they forgot to mention what you should do if all you can do is breathe.
If the only place where you can do more than that is your head.
Loved him I have, from the moment I first saw him,
Countless times have slept on his shoulders.
And he has held me in his arms in moments so happy and moments so grim.
'You are my life', daddy used to whisper,
A lifeless life, can't lift a hand to wipe the tears he is crying for my hair he loved and now has to trim.
They have stopped apologizing now, when they accidently twist my feet or hand.
Perhaps the reasonings of the brain have taken over those of the heart.
They don't ask if I like the smell of the flowers or the colour of the curtains anymore.
Perhaps they have realised that everything to me is bland.
Oft I have been called a bird,
Free of spirit, free of boundaries.
A wordless book is no book at all.
Neither is a bird without its wings free.
I am a book noone can write in,a bird noone can give wings to.
And each day I live, I see people I love die a little with me.
Life is not just breathing.
Life is memories and smiles and tears.
I wish to cease breathing, not living.
