Awaiting Life

The Saddest Part of Life is We are Still Alive

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The Art of Dying: Why do we live?

Posted by Krishna KBS on November 13, 2006 at 6:43 AM

The following note is actually a reply that I had written yesterday to a post in a website, on a topic that is quite close to my heart. I do not why; but feel like sharing it with you --- Whoever you are..

It is about a topic that I feel strongly about. There are not many things that I feel strongly or passionately about; so, when something of this sort turns up I become ridiculously passionate and emotional.

Is it a good thing to be passionately ridiculous or... well.. ridiculously passionate? I do not know. I will leave you to be the judge....

This is what I had written:

We live not for ourselves, but for others.

We live out of a sense of filial duty, out of responsibility.
We live because we do not know how to die.

Given a choice, most people would love to take the easy way out -- if there is an easy way. Is there? I don't know. Probably no one knows.

But do we have a choice? Life is not about choices; it is about chances. Sounds cliched? But life is a cliche -- the more we tend to make it less of a cliche, the more cliched it becomes. Sounds paradoxical and weird? But then life is full of paradoxes, and .. Well, if life isn't weird-- what is?

Yes, death is welcome; and life can be looked at, and quite probably is, a long and weary wait for death.

Wait! Wait! And Wait! And hopefully, the wait will be worthwhile, and will not take too much time... Not take that much time that we are tired of the waiting, and tired and sickened by the thought of death. As death is romantic, and life is unsexy, only when death is nowhere on the horizon. Once we are old enough (yes, old 'enough' --- not just 'old'), and every cough and sniffle is taken as a hint of death kncoking on the door, I do not think I will, and guess no one will, think that death is welcome.

But that is a long way off, yet. Sadly?

Meanwhile, all one can do is try to enjoy or atleast bear the way we live. After all the way we live is a very good indicator of the way we are going to die -- as we all are; some sooner, some a bit later...but everyone in the end. And that includes you and I --Thankfully? --- Yes, THANKFULLY!

That's it! That is the post. Reading this now, I felt like adding a few more line...regarding hope. After all, a lot of things are said about hope; why not add my bit too?

Yeah, hope keeps us alive. But hope does not keep us from dying; it is a sense of responsibility...however misplaced.

Categories: Philosophy

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Reply Vinod
9:25 AM on November 19, 2006 
Life is not a bed of roses like you said it is hollow of dreams, my friend be positive and hope things will change in future.
Reply Anej
11:32 AM on November 19, 2006 
Must say that you have made a very valid comment, something that is sure to strike a note with anyone struggling to make both ends meet. In our daily struggle to attain "Success", we often wish that our lives were not that complicated. But we soon realize that such thoughts are mere wishful thinking on our part as our hopes for a happier world are dashed against the harsh rocks of reality. However, that does not stop us from thinking of a way out. It is at that juncture that one starts to ponder about death and eventually dersire it. I personally believe that life is the price we have to pay so that we might get death as a reward for having survived the ordeal called "life".
Reply Matt
6:46 PM on November 20, 2006 
Krishna: <br>Thanks for this interesting post. Here is a quote from Annie Dillard that I think is fascinating in light of your comments: <br>"There is not a guarantee in the world. Oh, your <i>needs</i> are guaranteed, your needs are absolutely guaranteed by the most stringent of warranties, in the plainest truest words: knock; seek; ask. But you must read the fine print. 'Not as the world giveth, I give unto you.' That's the catch If you can catch it it will catch you up, aloft, up to any gap at all, and you'll come back, for you will come back, transformed in a way you may not have bargained for - dribbling and crazed. The waters of separation, however lightly sprinkled, leave indelible stains. Did you think, before you were caught, that you needed, say life? Do you think you will keep your life or anything else you love? But no. Your needs are all met. But not as the world giveth. You see the needs of your own spirit met whenever you have asked, and you have leraned that the outragious guarantee holds. You see the creatures die, and you know you will die. And one day it occurs to you that you must not need life. Obviously. And then you're gone. You have finally understood that you're dealing with a maniac. <br> <br>I think that the dying pray at the last not 'please,' but 'thank you,' as a guest thanks his host at the door. Falling form airplanes the people are crying thank you, thank you, all down the air; and the cold carriages draw up for them on the rocks. Divinity is not playful. The universe was not made in jest but in solomn incomprehensible earnest. By a power that is unfathomably secret, and holy, and fleet. There is nothing to be done about it but ignore it, or see. And then you walk fearlessly, eating what you must, growing wherever you can, like the monk on the road who knows precisely how vulnerable he is, who takes no comfort among death-forgetting men, and who carries his vision of vastness and might around in his tunic like a live coal which neither burns nor warms him, but with which he will not part." <br> <br>Amen