The Idea Of Plenty

Fear of fear gives courage. 

As we age, we encounter many things, people and situations that come with it no matter how far we try to avoid any of these that affect us.

One of man’s deadliest fears is to have to die alone. Death is a stunner at the end of a platform called life that keeps moving no matter how much you try to avoid. When it is time to go, it is time to go yet the things we do and the length we go to retain a few around us!

And in between this error called life, where we get to meet these strange people no matter how much we try to avoid, we end up facing, craving and fighting over those worthless things we claim to adore and land in situations that don’t appeal a bit just so that we build this pseudo-reality to pedal consumerism - in both the material and immaterial worlds we create around us, not sparing relationships too caught in between. Then there are these things called fate, luck, blessings, curses and the rest of such uncertainties that we feel runs and ruins us to which we grant all acclaim with such certainty.

Those necessities and these unnecessities of life of which people talk about endlessly! Often people talk a lot about what they lack rather than what they do have. People generally are silent when they are full; it is of course the empty vessels that make the loudest noise when they move. There is a person I meet at the gym who talks in length and lavishly exaggerates about the quantity and quality of food - detailing everything right from its preparation to its consumption; quite sadly, food both in quantity and quality is what this poor bloke rarely gets yet craves for.

Age too is a merciless shadow that never departs until our body remains. A thing that I realize these days is that as one ages, s/he feels that age is a defense for them to get away with anything they speak or do – even things that may be considered cheap, boring and/or offensive otherwise. Aging not only makes one cranky yet also becomes an excuse for being cranky which makes them understandably, acceptably and comfortably cranky often for no reason whatsoever. Perhaps as anger is a luxury that only the rich can afford, crankiness is a state of mind only the elderly can claim and retain.

Amidst all these worthless pursuits and endless circuits, while wishing to find some meaning and purpose in life, the search only seems to end gloriously in gaining nothing at the end of it.
“Nothing”?! Then what about all the inventions and discoveries that we glorify? Those pages and pages we write, read and sing, those countless thoughts and memories we try to collect and store and those relationships we try to gather and treasure – would they become ‘nothing’ in an instant? What about those images we treasure (?) those poems and paintings we imagine and that prose and photo we capture with delight? How about those boring, endless talks with those parasitic people and the boredom that follows that we manage to conceal with our fake smiles and unwilling nods – wishing they would stop as you begin to realize that they have just begun. What about all those occasions when we could have lifted the Oscar with our ability to act to convince that others matter when deep inside, both kith and kin, they don’t matter at all? The truth that we seek, when everything we see, hear or feel is just a comforting lie that tries to make us feel that everything around us is eternal and everyone immortal while “I” of all the fakes around, agree too, faking with all my might as I should for making the idea of plenty a comforting thought for all to believe. If a prize or an award be given for the biggest fake of all, first in line shall I be as I fold all my fingers but one and pray that all of us deserve to ‘go forth and multiply’ as the good God wanted us to. 

Cowards live when they fear death.