Who Knows

Of late I have been thinking of the purpose of life- does it have a purpose? The more I think about it, the more I become dispirited. It seems meaningless, without any discernible purpose at all. The farce that people enact and call by the name of life is nothing of the sort-its really death in disguise. Our lives seem animated by a sort of blind will to survive, to hang on to whatever straws that we can find to continue this bizarre existence. It’s an animal urge, prompted by a strange force of nature and it has no connection with any purpose other than survival.

But any sensible being can’t be satisfied with this alone, even inanimate objects show a desire to survive or continue in the same state as long as they can. A crescograph would show you how things react when they come in contact with destructive elements. So survival is not the point of life, the dull survive as well as the active, sometimes the dull live long than it’s opposite.

So, there has to be some kind of life that’s worthy of being called life. Something that adds to our experiences, enriches our being, grants us light and frees us from our real or imaginary shackles. But though I have lived to be middle aged, I haven’t yet found any such qualitative change in my insides to say that living is a worthwhile activity.

Let me tell you, this is not born out of any recent calamity in my life (I take life as the biggest calamity). I live normally and have normal friends and foes- there are people who want me dead and there are people who love me. We all do that in our moments of intensity. So this is not about that at all. So then what is it about?

Look at my case; here I am in the midst of characters that have never made an effort to understand what life is. They live stupidly from day to day, thinking the same thoughts, going through the same motions, projecting the same hatreds and likings, immersing themselves in the same petty and useless pursuits!
Sadly they can’t enrich their lives the way they go on -let alone enrich that of others, even if there is such a possibility. In fact they are not any different from animals, the only plus being the ability to talk. But that rarely add anything in their lives.

So what am I doing here, what could I gain by mingling with such unthinking specimens of humanity? If I can vouch for anything it is this- none of these guys are ever going to even think that there is something higher in life than money and their immediate needs or pleasure, imagined or perhaps even experienced. The only thing is that they seem highly pleased with their lives. There would be a terribly self satisfied leer on their faces when they see some of the humanity that has less!

Why do I hate to see both, those who leer and those who suffer? I don’t know! Perhaps I hate the lack of finer sensitivity in them. May be I think that is what life is all about, sharpening your sensitivity, pointing yourself in some direction- but what direction? This is where it gets me. There seems to be no direction at all. There is only death at the end. It’s a blind alley. You can’t progress any further once you are in it. So what is this struggle that we are all going through to ward off death, why not accept it and be done with it?

No wonder some Japanese gentlemen end their lives just out of boredom. May be its much better that way! But is it? Is there an answer to the riddle of life; is there a way to weed out the petty and insignificant out of your lives? Or is it all significant in some way? Have I erred in terming certain things as of no importance?

Well who knows?