What is the meaning of life?
Generally speaking, people came into this world because of one of two routes. Accidental or intentional. You came into existence because two people took it upon themselves to create life, or for whatever reason they skipped on contraceptives. Now, this could be because they were too cheap, too careless, or couldn’t care less. I wouldn’t dare to guess. You know your parents best.
Anyway, scientists and philosophers have for too long pondered over the meaning of life. This took a hit since the invention of televisions, since pondering hard to do with a game show running in the background.
A German philosopher called of Arthur S. was among the first to question the ‘meaning of life’. Later, Albert Camus, the acclaimed author gave what I consider to be among one of the best answer on the subject.
“The absurdity of the human condition is that people search for external values and meaning in a world which has none and is indifferent to them.”
But my favourite line on the subject was delivered by my father. During a discussion about why we are here, my father said the following:
“You are here because someone decided to keep you.”
Such wisdom is fleeting, but significant – since it comes with a hint of trauma. Only a psychiatrist might solve why my father used the phrase ‘someone decided’ over ‘we decided’. Thus proving that as you go through life, questions change. From ‘why are we here?’, my question morphed to ‘why am I here?’. So perhaps then, there is no meaning of life than to enjoy it responsibly. When you get on a plane, do you question what is the meaning of this journey? You might, if the destination involves your in-laws. But the journey itself is meaningless.
The real problem here is that we take life as one unbroken journey. It is not. Let me give you an example. From a small town in North India, I had travelled to study in Melbourne, Australia. One year, before my mother’s birthday, I decided to surprise her by showing up at home unannounced. So, I put together every dollar I had, took a train to the airport, caught a flight. There were protests in Malaysia at the time, so my stopover became a settlement. I sat at the airport for about 18 hours, before they siphoned me onto a flight leaving for Hong Kong. It was business class. How could I refuse? I had no business being in that class, and it showed. At Hong Kong, they gave me a day room. I took the next flight to Kolkata. From there I took a domestic flight to Delhi, but due to turbulent weather, they took us to Jaipur instead.
We spent six hours at the tarmac, and when I finally got to Delhi late into the night, the cocktail of fog and smoke had formed what I imagine were resembled like the lungs of a chain smoker. At the time, with broken highways, it took about four hours to reach my town. So, the next morning, a day after my mother’s birthday, I took a train home. From there, onto a cycle-rickshaw to reach my parents’ house at about 11 am. I knocked on the door. My mother opened.
“Belated Happy birthday!” I said.
“At least someone remembered,” Mother said, and moved away, revealing my father, who stood there with his toothbrush in his mouth, and his hands on his head.
That is life.
You take different modes of transport to get to what you think is your goal. And then, you go through a much-needed meal with a side of hard stares from your father.
Life, if experienced as one, will appear meaningless. ‘Life’ carries no meaning because ‘life’ does not exist as a whole. It cannot be experienced as one and must not be analysed as such. Moments of satisfaction exist. Decades of meaning do not. Find people who add some meaning to your days, and by doing so make your months and years better. Because in its entirety life might is meaningless. It is the smaller fragments of life that carry incredible meaning. Test it, tickle a toddler. Preferably your own.
