I took a deep
breath, much like one does when preparing to dive underwater. My pupils widened
with eagerness, my heart rose to my throat, and a single tear lingered
stubbornly at the corner of my eye—an immense effort keeping it from falling.
The subject matter was unimaginably sensitive, at least for me.
Yet… I knew
exactly what I was getting into. I knew what I needed to watch, what I had
longed for so desperately to face, with eyes wide open. And so, I prepared
myself thoroughly—not just emotionally but also physically. I turned off every
gadget, settled deeply into my couch, and, with a simple gesture, pressed
"PLAY," completely forgetting to breathe.
I watched the film
with bated breath. And, to make sure I fully grasped its meaning, I didn’t just
watch it once but multiple times—to remember every word, every gesture, every
emotion, every sound. I didn’t just empathize with those who had lived these experiences;
I wept with them, truly. I felt their tears, their pain, their lump in the
throat, as if it were my own. It was as though they were reliving, even now,
after so many years, the stories of… death that they had endured.
I have been
fascinated by this subject for as long as I can remember. I have always
searched for stories like these. I have yearned to meet someone who has lived
through such an experience—not the sensational, made-for-TV kind, but something
real and true. I want to see the emotion in their eyes, hear it in their voice,
watch their expressions, their gestures, their energy, and the aura that
surrounds them. It is impossible for anyone to act so convincingly that their
lie would not be apparent. To play with topics as delicate as these, without
truth, is a profound sacrilege.
I am weary of
falsehoods. Of all those “celebrities” who appear for a day, an hour, a show,
recounting supposed near-death experiences when, in reality, they know nothing
about the subject. They do it for television ratings or for fleeting notoriety,
likely for monetary gain. Their falseness is obvious: no emotion, no vibration,
no depth.
The protagonists
of this film, however, stand out as profoundly authentic. They have experienced
clinical death in its rawest, most genuine form. What is striking is that,
though these events occurred many years ago, they remain vividly etched in
their memory, as if they happened just yesterday. They recount every detail
with remarkable clarity, leaving nothing out. Their voices and faces reveal
tears but also profound calmness—an acceptance, a resolution, perhaps even a
liberation. These moments seem to distill the very essence of human existence.
Each of the ten
interviewees shares their story with extraordinary precision. Perhaps this is
why the film is so captivating. While humanity shares commonalities, our
individuality makes each experience deeply unique. We are all singular beings;
everything in this universe is singular. Even with the same anatomy—two hands,
two feet, a head—no two people are alike, not even twins. Just as no two days,
no two clouds, no two leaves are identical, neither are the experiences of
clinical death. One sees a tunnel, another a gate. Some encounter beings of
light, while others see themselves floating above their body. Some meet
deceased loved ones, while others find themselves in fields of flowers.
These differences
likely reflect the inner world of each individual—their beliefs, loves,
thoughts, and perhaps most importantly, the compassion they have shown during
their lifetime. The life we lead here may shape the visions we encounter
beyond.
How can we
recognize the light within ourselves? How can we become aware of our spiritual
worth and discover the divine essence that resides in us? What blinds us, what
prevents us from seeing the light, making us believe that life here is the only
thing that matters, when true life begins only afterward? Why do we impose such
limitations on ourselves, constraining our vast souls within narrow confines of
thought, pride, and illusion? We act as though the universe begins and ends
with us. But the truth is, it begins and ends with God.
What have we
failed to understand? At what point did we lose ourselves in the tangled
thickets of ego, forgetting our divine essence? True freedom is attainable, but
only if we genuinely seek it.
For now, we remain
beggars at the edges of forgetfulness, faint cries on a planet paved with
countless armors—once vibrant, now skeletal remnants of history. We walk
indifferently over the graves of our ancestors, showing no reverence for the
foundations they laid for us. We desecrate not only their physical remains but
also the delicate breath of life itself, a gift so fragile it should never have
been sullied, much less trampled upon.
Alongside Mr.
Gheorghe, one of the film’s protagonists, I wept. His story revealed a profound
truth: love transcends death. The love of a parent for their child, the love
that God has planted in our hearts, bridges the temporal and the eternal. It
reminds us that, above all else, we are souls inhabiting bodies, not bodies
that possess souls. This is the quintessence of life—a truth we resist
accepting.
And yet, I often
wonder: why has God placed barriers between us, the living, and those who have
passed? Why can we not see them? Why do we carry such an insatiable longing for
those we love, unable to bridge the divide? What frequencies separate us? If these
barriers were lifted, would fear, pride, and hatred disappear? Or perhaps the
barriers themselves hold the lesson—to cultivate patience, love, and
understanding.
Ultimately, what
remains is love. Sublime in its idealism. This love, a fragment of God’s very
essence, is what binds us to Him and to each other. It is unique, it is divine.
And through this love, we learn, slowly, how to love truly. From it comes the courage
to create a film as daring and profound as this—a masterpiece that dares to
challenge conventions and venture into the unknown.
Mr. Călin Terțan
deserves immense praise for his boldness, for his courage to explore and share
these truths with the world. His film is not merely a comma but the beginning
of a new paragraph - an invitation to continue exploring the mysteries of
existence.
For after death,
there can never be a period. Only a comma, followed by continuation. Love,
forgiveness, and grace—the attributes of the divine—transcend mortality. Just
as God surpasses death, so too does love. This extraordinary documentary must
be shared, inspiring minds and hearts, in Romania and beyond.
Pagina filmului
Aurora Cristea - Writer, Member of the League of Romanian Writers (L.S.R.) Galați,
September 2024
