On an early summer, dated 3rd of May, John came home to find a mysterious box in the backyard. Inside it was a letter with a string of numbers. The number stated the exact date John would die.
Unsurprisingly, he didn’t believe it, and why would he?
Well, it was not just John. From the mountains igloo to the desert tents, everyone found identical boxes. By the mid-year, most of the world’s population had opened it. On new year eve, a new world had settled with a new reality.
The life before was a fair one, everyone believed that if you exercised, ate healthy and live a balanced life, you will live long. But, now, it appeared as a joke.
Some celebrated, rest cried. There was light and then, there was darkness.
Like John.
As divided as they were, one thing was in common, “Death being so real.”
The colorful world before the incident was a world that did it’s best to deceive death. We placed cemeteries far away from home, we spoke of death in euphemisms. We followed Pandits, Molvi, and Gurus that promised prosper and longer life. Death remained hidden, in the dusted region of our minds.
But, not anymore.
Now, death roamed freely, precise and touchable.
Eventually, happy people with long string or depressed people with short string, people started living in five various ways.
Firstly, the ignorance group, they simply denied the string. Nothing could make them believe, they thought of it as a dirty political or agency play. They refused to see life as a meaningless entity. So, they continued their life as usual. Denying death more than the previous world order. Some sane minds refused to open the box and kept of living the new abnormal.
Secondly, the pleasure pursuers, these were the folks who decided to pursue their ultimate goals. Despite the hopelessness of life, they lived every moment with newfound clarity. They had one well-known agenda, “You only live once, so make the best of it.” They cut out their lives of unwanted things, sold houses, quit their jobs, made love, spent time with their families and friends. Did their best to make every moment worth living.
These ecstasy lovers were the enemy of thyself. These sensational junkies addicted to more brought agony and pain on themselves. They lived in endless greed, unquenchable lust, or relentless pleasure. There agenda revolved around one reasoning, “Between now and the day I die, I have ultimate freedom to do anything.”
So, these self-obsessed people neglected the role of good or evil.
Thirdly, group of strength and ferocity, they believed that God was playing an absurd joke. So, what they did was an act of cowardice strength. They ended the joke! It was simple best of all, to stop existing. There were many ways: fire, water, rope, a bridge, a knife, or a train.
But, some of these became agents of chaos, as they lacked enough strength. Out of rage and maddening hopelessness, they robbed, they murdered, even bombed. They brought others into their disparity, imprinting their pain onto the world. Ultimately, they refused to suffer alone.
Then came the fourth group, misery craver. They knew that life was a mess and a stupid prank played upon them. Knowing that they would die soon, yet still, trapped in a vicious cycle of apathy, self-hatred and despair, but not enough to put an end to it. They spent their remaining life all alone with their sad meal, and dull life.
In their dark hours, they waited. Just waiting for the death, repeating the depressed routine again and again and again. The endless wait.
Initially, there were these four groups, but then, came the fifth and by now, the last one–living by faith.
This faith was different than the previously known doctrines and practices of an organized religion. It was a belief in the vast unknown cosmic orders that shape existence, a force bigger than all of us.
They had accepted that they are here to play their roles, no matter short or big. If the string had told them the exact number, then, they would die as part of grand scheme. This acceptance was not a negative force, it gave them purposes and hope, to live their remaining days.
Some put faith in science, others in compassion and love, believing that a day would come with all the answers and reasoning, behind all of this. That one day, they might boldly go where no man has gone before (maybe Heaven). To them, future, no matter how short or long it was, belonged to those who bad hope. Because, after all: Hope keeps us alive.
...
The true horror of existence is not the fear of death, but the fear of life. It is the fear of waking up each day to face the same struggles, the same disappointments, the same pain.
It is the fear that nothing will ever change, that you are trapped in a cycle of suffering that you cannot escape.
And in that fear, there is a desperation, a longing for something, anything, to break the monotony, to bring meaning to the endless repetition of days.
Albert Camus.
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Peace 🕊