The Philosophy of Life

                                                                  

Wavering layer of water glimmered golden by the diminishing shafts of sunlight as the sun paced to hide behind the lake. Ephemeral rays of light shone on my eyes, just as the floodlight focuses the protagonist of a featured drama, and these waves of light swept the banks of Lake Pontchartrain leaving traces of darkness behind. The sun looked like a semi-circle dipping behind the lake as the color of the sky changed from orange to red to blue, and the sun soon disappeared from mauve sky like a deflating balloon. The sun has rose and set exactly for twenty years since my birth, but today it has invited me to contemplate fundamental question of purpose of my life which still hovers over the horizon. 

Photo Courtesy: Wikipedia

Mark Twain quotes that the two most important days in our life are the day we were born and the day we find out why. However, finding the purpose is not one time eureka moment; thus, it needs a thorough and continuous introspection. Emily Griffin in her book Where We Belong iterates that the purpose of the life should be the life of purpose thorough self-actualization. A step further, as Simon Sinek in one of his TED talk suggests that our purpose should be contemplated in question “why” rather than “what”, here I am, at the banks of Lake Pontchartrain, reflecting on my eclectic life.

My current state of life is the result of series of events and coincidences, and my present day beliefs are amalgamation of the beliefs of people I have come across on real or virtual front. From the high hills to the sea level and below, and from conservative Sanopakha to liberal-lewd Bourbon Street, I have seen destitute and affluence of many aspects comparable. In having lofty dreams and in being sunk to smell the dust with bitter disappointment, I have become both a freak and have tried to become a sage, or that is, at least, what I reckon. I have lost people close to me from life and have lived in isolation for a considerable time. The family for me has become what Matt King describes in film The Descendant: “All part of the same whole, but always separate and alone and drifting apart like an archipelago.” These experiences have treated me to form two basic realization in which, I think, I need to base my purpose. 

The first realization is that happiness is an essence to living and that our happiness comes through validation and through happiness of people whom we care. The second realization I have made is that our life is a message, and that it is not the destination but the journey that is more important. I have figured that riding Mercedes in 200 km/h in I-20 lane will not give me happiness, when my relatives have to struggle to buy a pair of slippers with a daily average income of less than $2.00 a day. Getting good GPA, having good connections and finding a job with a steady income is not a perpetual source of happiness, when students of the same academic aptitude have to toil in Middle Eastern countries for living. It is easier said than done, but “an attempt”, I emphasize “an attempt”, to change the lives of around thirty millions people every day can be a greater source of happiness than a paycheck of some thousand dollars which may give no validation to my life.  I am aware that life is not lived in rhetoric and that it is not idealistic, but there is a so much in our system that needs an improvement, and my inner conscience seems to lead me to fixation of same.

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Mahatma Gandhi said that the only tyrant we have to accept in this world is the “still small voice” within us even though we may be in a prospect of a hopeless minority. Similarly, Herman Hesse in Novel Siddhartha describes most people as falling leafs that drift and turn in the air, flutter and fall in the ground  and few as the stars which travel one defined path where no wind reaches  and which have within themselves their guide and path. I am not sure if I am a leaf drifting on the wind, carried away by an impulsive thought, or the star on its own path, what I know for sure is that I have the “still small voice” budding inside me. It may take few more walks to Lake Pontchartrain to validate the voice, but I am patient and hopeful, not only patient in the “still small voice” gaining the shape, but also patience in waiting for my purpose to become vivid. And I am hopeful because, as the theme of Shawshank Redemption depicts, fear holds us a prisoner and only hope can set us free –beyond this horizon into new beginning.

Happy Birthday, Birthday Boy!