Life, or something close to it.

'Come Fairies, take me out of this dull world, for I would ride with you upon the wind and dance upon the mountains like a flame!'- W.B.Yeats

Dhaka, she's such a tease. Its summer now. Day after day, it gets hotter and more humid. The increase is efficiently steady. And the day I conclude that today has to be the hottest and it can’t get hotter than this, the very next day it does. There's heat, so much heat and there's humidity but no rain, unfortunately. So it’s just the draining heat without any respite, no rain for company, no escape from the sun. Every passing hour of every day is a struggle against the wet, sticky sweat beads and the ever exhausting dehydration. And just when I feel broken down and begin to think how much more of this can I really take, she sends in the smoothest, the gentlest, evening breeze. As if a small gust of air could make up for so much torture, but, it almost does. And though I know I’m supposed to be sulking over how unfair she can really be, the feel of the cool wind against me makes me forget just about everything. The wind is so alluring, it’s almost impossible not to enjoy it.

But more often than not, the breeze doesn’t stay a simple gentle breeze for long, it becomes more powerful and maybe more destructive but for me that's what makes it even better. I do not live along the coastlines, and though I’ve heard of the hundreds who lose their home to this very wind, it’s hard to stay mad at something so pure. It may cause absolute mayhem and take many human lives but by the time it reaches me, it’s just perfect. It may have arrived from a bloody past but when with me all it is, is a very blatant but very pleasant reminder that Dhaka can be wonderful if she wants to. And I know tomorrow, the sun will shine again, brighter and hotter and Dhaka will be back to her normal self, and our love-hate relationship will continue, buts that tomorrow. Today she's in a good mood and the wind is just so heavenly. It's the perfect company, if there ever was one .Why can't she be this way all the time? Even the harsh wind would do, if she’s in a foul mood. It would be hard to walk, it would be hard to drive, and basically it would be hard to move around, with unprofitable disruption of transportation but it would be so easy to smile.

I asked a few of my friends to define life their way. And it was good. Enjoy :

Well, in retrospect I suppose that life could be measured by the experiences that make us what we are. And I would say that we learn more from adversity as opposed to 'joyous' moments because that is when our mettle is tested most and those are the times that make us grow. And I suppose that 'growing' is an important part of life (in whatever way we do ).

its undefinable,its our reality and an illusion.........its complex yet simple.its there yet here.theres this word palimpsestic,i guess lifes like that......multilayered and you keep writing an rewriting your paths.......

life changes. i have been thinking hard myself too and i found out it keeps changing.it doesnt stay the same forever;you may agree with me or you may not,its your choice. life is what you are living right now.

life is stranger than fiction.. its an illusion we have .. we feel its der for us forever and we never know when and where it will leave us and all that mattered.. your i pod.. your favouraite t shirt.. your bank balance wil all be a thing which is non existent..

Its a lemon n cheese cake when chewed eyes closed and sensually, however if we dare to open eyes its youghurt and mayonaise on bread.

Life is bein alive....bein alive is an opportunity given to prove u bein actually alive..making a diffrence by existing.. lets u think and do what u want..dats al dat differentiates us with da non living ..da ones wit no life..me loves my life..me prays it doesnt end soon.

everything u do is life,,,happiness ,sorrow,,,each n every moment u live is life

life is a like you are in a dark and dense forest and you just have a candle in your hand. So you can only see within the range of that candle. Even if you want to plan everything ahead , you cannnot be sure of what gonna happen until you reaach it. ANd the goal is to get out of that forest.

an illusion of what is actually real..

life for me.. has been dwelling in the past .. wishing how i could ve done things better.. and the future how i want to do things...

life is music!! continue playing other's tones , till your own tune
is to be played!

And a few from more distinguished authors:

Life is a dream for the wise, a game for the fool, a comedy for the rich, a tragedy for the poor. -Sholom Aleichem

Life is a long lesson in humility. -James M. Barrie

Life is wasted on the living. -Douglas Adams

The fear of life is the favorite disease of the 20th century. -William Lyon Phelps

The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. -Henry David Thoreau

The purpose of life is a life of purpose. -Robert Byrne

We can't plan life. All we can do is be available for it. -Lauryn Hill

When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained. -Mark Twain

Life is what happens to us while we are busy planning for something else.-John Lennon

And my favourite :

"Life is a zoo in a jungle." -Peter De Vries.

PS: send me your definition at revisinglife@gmail.com and i'll add it to this post.

Life. The undying mystery of our existence is astonishing, amazing and quite frankly exasperating. How far does a man have to go before he finds his answer to the ultimate of all queries, what is life? And it will be his answer because I think each of us has a separate answer to be found. In fact, each of us has a separate answer for the separate periods of time that we are going through. What I felt life was, around ten years ago, isn't what I feel now. The meaning of life for me has changed, drastically but also inevitably. Our definitions of life change with time, and so it should. Nothing stays the same. Change is unavoidable. So, for me, (believing that it’s meaning is ever transient), life is the present. And it’s not necessarily along the lines of 'live life as if it’s your last day' mantra. No, none of that, because more often than not, circumstances dictate our course of actions, or rather we let it. Life simply put, is the present. What you are going through now, is life. It might be a rainbow of happiness, with sunny skies and rosy beds. If it is, that's really good. There is no reason why it can’t be so. Or, your present maybe horrible, a dreary tread through the unrelenting motions of frustration that echo day after day after day. If that's what it is, well, tough luck, that is life. The future may change everything. But the future is an illusion and nothing more than a fictional apparition. There is every possibility that things may get better and the struggles you put in today may reap you benefits that you so deserve and you may bring about a change. But change isn’t a guarantee of better things to come. You then plunge into another phase in your life and find a new definition, it may be more blissful or it may be more miserable. Life knows no justice. It knows neither compassion nor disdain. It doesn’t measure out equal amounts of happiness and sorrow to hand out to everyone, so each of us is happy and sad in equality. Happiness and sorrow are your achievements. All life gives you is your present, what you have now, this moment that's alive. The past is gone, it’s dead. You may linger with your memories of how good it all was once, but that is nothing more than a few thoughts circling in your head. It is romantic to remember the good old days, but unfortunately futile. The future is just a hollow promise. It’s something to pin your hopes to, just so to avoid the feeling of absolute dejection. Hopes that maybe based on nothing more than a sincere, illogical wish. The present however, is real. The present is all you have. The present is all you'll get.

"Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment" - Buddha.

"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"

"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.
- An excerpt from The Walrus and The Carpenter by Lewis Caroll


When times are harsh and the days are bad, it doesn't take much time for them to get worse. This seems to be the inevitable protocol of bad luck, bad times lead, without fail, to worse times. There is no reprieve, no concession but a constant order of inescapable misery that keep piling up till even a hazy ray of light seems to be as bright as the sun, and we confuse a sliver of hope to be the answer to our prayers, God has finally remembered us. We offer our thanks, we offer our praise. We never wonder why he always lets us go through all that suffering for so long. Can we dare ask what was he waiting for? No, by then our strength to question has been replaced by a willingness to feel grateful to anyone or anything that’ll throw the dog a bone. An angel of god, he'll be to us and we'll be his debtors, his slaves. And god will feel good about himself on having helped an insignificant little man, and we’ll be thankful to our true savior for rescuing us. But what of all the agony we endured, what of the eternity of unanswered prayers, of unjust punishment. ‘Them? Well they’re all in the past. What you need to do is look ahead.” We’ll agree. We’ll keep quiet. We’ll follow.

The fisherman knew about this. Knew about it through experience. Years and years of unwanted experience. Seven years ago, he didn’t catch a single fish for 23 days. He stopped praying on the 24th day. He didn’t catch a fish for another 12 days. When he finally had a decent outing on the 37th day, he wasn't grateful to anyone, he didn’t thank anyone. He ate. Weeks of living off borrowed money, saving every penny, eating only when absolutely necessary had left him hungry. So he ate. If there was someone he should to thank when things are going right, he had every right to blame this entity when things aren’t going well. Since, he had decided not to blame anyone for all the misery he had to go through, he would not thank anyone for his happiness. If he had to go through all his pain alone, he would enjoy every bit of his pleasure alone. He would definitely not share his fish.

Days had just turned worse again. He still liked to say days were just bad, not because he was an optimist but because he knew there was whole level of worse still encroaching. Years and years of unwanted experience. The glass is never half full. It had been two weeks since he had caught anything significant. Today, all that might change. Though he didn’t pray for good luck or divine blessing, he still hoped.

He was out in the sea before the break of dawn. His small boat gently swaying with the waves. He rowed to a calmer area, with his rope already cast, he waited. The hours passed by. The sun was vengeful, with all its fury concentrated on the small boat out in the sea. He took a gulp of water, careful not to drink too much. Time kept moving on. 'This used to be a good spot', he thought, 'have I grown too old? Can’t I tell where I can catch a fish and where I can’t? Is this what it has come to? How can I call myself a fisherman anymore?' The water was almost over. This was the ultimate joke, he thought. There was water as far as he could see, but it was as if he were stranded in a desert. There were so many things he could’ve done in life, but…. It was about time he headed back. 'Two weeks and a day', he thought. Then he felt a tug, but it wasn’t just a tug, it was a pull and a strong pull at that. And in that moment he felt true happiness, there was no past, no future, no God, no Devil, no Right, no Wrong. For that moment, life was now, there was no other time no other place. The world shrunk to him, his boat and the fish. He pulled, the fished pulled back, he pulled harder. One pull at a time, slowly he won the battle. He was a man, adept at his job, the fish was just a fish.

It was a big fish, would get him a good price at the market. Should he wait? There may be another one to be caught. But it was getting dark, and with no water things might turn ugly. He will have to head back he decided and hope tomorrow is just as good as today, or maybe even better. He smiled, let’s not get carried away.

'Please let me go.' he heard. There was nobody around, except him and the fish. Was that the wind? It sounded very clear to be the wind. Was he going insane? Slowly the fish opened its mouth again, 'Please, let me go' it said. 'I have a family.' the fisherman kept quiet, it wasn’t the wind. The fish pleaded again. 'I won’t' he said, not I can't, but I won’t. Because he could, all he had to do was, catch it and throw it back, but he wouldn’t. 'I will not, throw away what I’ve caught. Regardless of whether you are actually talking or just a hallucination. You have a family you say, so did every other fish I’ve caught, if I let you go and feel good that I sacrificed my stomach for a life I will have to endure the guilt of the hundreds of lives I didn’t save. And I feel no guilt, you are like every one of them, by which I do not condemn you but praise them. And I will do what I want to, not because it’s an obligation but because it’s a choice. Even now, when my life seems desperate, I still have a choice. I have survived two weeks on failed expeditions another day will not make a difference. But I choose not to. I choose to, to put it honestly, kill you so I can survive in my terms. I will not patronize you and tell you how sorry I am, because I am not. I feel no guilt or sorrow in having to do what I do. Because what I do is not wrong. You might think it is, you might I am a monster but that is irrelevant. I know what I am and what I do. If I feel sorry for taking your life, I will in essence condemn my entire existence. What I do is not wrong and I am not sorry. I am a fisherman, this is what I do. You're having a bad day. And when days are going bad, it doesn't long for it to turn worse. I know through experience.'
“But I have done you no wrong. Is your need for a few pennies of more value than my existence? Isn’t my life worth more than you being able to afford a good meal.” the fish pleaded.

“No, you have done me no wrong. But this is not your punishment. I do not intend to kill you because you deserve it for your sins. I am not here to issue judgment, no I am here to fish. Me killing you is not about you, it’s about me. This is what I do. Your life is not more valuable than a good meal, not to me, not to all those who will bargain with all their might to get a piece of you. You may disagree, but we have our own perspectives. What you think is the greatest blasphemy, it is for me a daily routine.”

“Have you no mercy?”

“No. Not when I am asked to think that my life’s work is a business entangled in cruel murder, not when I am asked to show mercy that will make me question the work I do. I am a ruthless murderer to you, I am a mere fisherman to the world.”

“You are a heartless man. I pray to god you die in the worst circumstances.”

“I am an honest man. I spoke the truth. I do not wish to mock you with gentle words. You deserve the truth. I hope your prayers are answered.”

The fisherman ate a hearty meal that night. He died three weeks later. For once god was quick to listen.