The death is amazing factor that hinders the life and hope. At early morning, many bees were coming and they were flying near our roof. I thought that it was our good day to see all bees. The day was raining and cold. Later when I looked outside, all bees were inside the water of bucket. Seeing such condition, I couldn’t stop and I took them to dry place to make survival of them. I took them and secured. But death is more energetic than my effort to save them. The death caught to many of them that their useless struggle was nothing powerful. Death’s hand had caught them and they were pitiable. Some bees were struggling to live and attempted to fly and walk but their destiny was chaos there.

The day was weeping with rain and few bees were running to and fro without destiny and life. Seeing such condition my words are turning to draw the light of them to human beings. I invited family members to view them. The struggle of them to win death was futile effort. The vanishing life was there that their death was making sad to me. The deposit of death was their in water. Breadth was little bit that death was near to enter in their soul. I attempted to show their struggle lively but absurdity appeared as the people of civil war in my country.

The community of bees was in sad condition and the futile struggle was there. They were roaming in raining day. The sound of them was hidden and movement was slow. The cold day had brought death for them. The day was cold and sunshine had been lost. The bees were eaten by birds. Death had been appeared with different parts too. I could not make their survival. Some of them were survived and many were motionless. The survival point was lacked to many . Some of them were walking there. Amazing was the time of their coming in our home.

The sense of them was consciousness to select our home to live. But nature dismissed them. I could not make them alive for all. Now some them are flying to and fro. Some were died. Some were eaten by birds. Death is amazing factor that comes eternally to inse

cts and human beings equally. The struggle of them was futile that many of them died. As Virginia Woolf has noted death of moth, I also have noted the death and life of bees. I picked up them and t

ook them in dry place. The raining day made cold them that many of them died. Some bees were beaten by ants. How pitiable condition was there.

That brought words to me to compose the condition of them. The pitiable condition of bees is mentioned by me here to show their struggle of existence. Few bees were survived and others died. Death makes destiny of people as well as of other creatures . Death treats all being equally. There is no sense of superiority. Death is equal ruler to all . Death is really sad and painful which snatches the living right. The death is equality giver.

Hile Parbat