Life, or something close to it.

Is death the ultimate freedom, a final escape from the anguish and misery that is unfortunately inherent with life, a concluding act of defiance against an existence that forces us to confirm to the tyranny of torment and failure?

As I walked towards the abandoned bridge, on that September night, to jump to my death, I had to answer “yes, yes it is.” It had to be. There was no doubt in my mind. No, there was no place for doubt. What there was in its stead was certainty, absolute certainty. I was about to abandon all my worries, I was about to forget all my problems, I was about to bid goodbye to every situation that had made me miserable, to every event that had heaped more despair, to a God that showed no mercy, to a Devil that offered no propositions. A goodbye to the world, this cruel world. A goodbye to life, my life and every desolate memory that came with it.

The bridge was dismal. Abandoned after a better, wider bridge was built about a couple of hundred meters away. Out with the old, in with the new. The parapet was broken down. It was no longer capable of providing the service it was built for. It could no longer protect. In its damaged existence it was now a hazard. It was a failure. Weed encroached on every crevice filling every inch with its cancerous existence. The entire structure shook with every burst of onrushing water underneath. It could no longer withstand the demands that came inevitably with its existence. A radical overhaul was necessary. Either that or a demolition, an end to rid of all its problems. A termination of its continuation. Death.

But when I approached it, it appeared to me magnificent, an apt place to end this meaningless fight for survival. The sound of the water that rushed beneath seemed no less beautiful than the most glorious symphony, calling me to get closer. Every crescendo asking me to jump. Jump and be free. Be free. Oh! It was beautiful. I couldn’t have chosen a better place. Everything was in its place.

Everything except a shadow. A shadow that stood atop the parapet and looked down and gasped repeatedly in perfect timing. Gasping and then gasping again. A gasp of sorrow. A gasp of tears.

She was crying.

I ran. I held her. I fought her resistance. I brought her down. I didn’t let her jump. I couldn’t let her jump.

“What are you doing?” I screamed.

She gasped again. “What do you think I’m doing?”

I felt stupid. She was here to do just what I was about to do. What right did I have to stop her from jumping? Had I been a few minutes late, I would have been atop the same parapet and would not have known that moments before she had felt just the way I would feel then. And as she had jumped I would have jumped. As she had died I would have died. So why stop all that from happening now? Why not help her up, stand by her and together jump  into oblivion? Why not?

But she seemed so young. What could have been so wrong in her life that could have led to this? “Why are you doing this?” I asked.

“What does it matter to you? Let me be. Leave me alone”. She didn’t gasp. She wasn’t crying anymore.

“But why do this? Why end your life?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

Why shouldn’t she?  Well, because she had her whole life ahead of her. But wasn’t that the same for me? So what reason could there be, what justification could there possibly be for me, who was contemplating suicide moments earlier, to try and change her mind about the same thing? None.

But I didn’t care. Perhaps it was because I felt her problems whatever they were couldn’t possibly be worse than mine. Perhaps it was because I did not wish to see someone so young die when there were so many things to live for. Perhaps it was because I was trying to save myself as much as I was trying to save her. 

  “Because you have your whole life ahead of you. I know your problems seem insurmountable, your miseries never ending and your sorrow intolerable but take a step back and look at your life. Your life is bigger than anything you can imagine. Your life is bigger than your singular ambition that you’ve held in your heart since you were a kid. Your life is bigger than your one true love that you lost. Your life is bigger than a job you could not succeed in. Your life is bigger than you.  If you could just stop and think about it you would find that life is full of options. If you cannot do ‘A’, do ‘B’. If not, then ‘C’ and so forth and so on. And if you survive today, tomorrow will bring new opportunities. Can you tell me with absolute certainty that your tomorrow will be worse than today. Can you tell me without a doubt that there’s nothing that could happen tomorrow that will make your life a little bit better. If you can tell me and if you can tell yourself in all honesty that ‘yes, tomorrow will be worse than what it is today.’ I will not stand in your way. But if not, then why not give tomorrow a chance. Yes, it is true just as you cannot guarantee tomorrow will be worse, I cannot guarantee that tomorrow will be better but I can hope and so can you. Hope. Hope for a better tomorrow. Hope for happiness. Hope for elation. Hope for ecstasy. Because the future is not yet written, the possibilities of what your tomorrow could be is infinite. But to realize those possibilities what you need to do is survive. Yes, survive. Survival, the most primal and the most important instinct of all living organisms. And you need to survive. Survive, not because you may one day change the world, but because one day you may not need to. Survive, not because you may one day be the greatest woman who ever lived but because one day you may be a woman who lived a great life. Survive, because one day you may cease to exist and begin to live. Survive because suicide is not the answer. It is not liberty; it is the declaration of accepted slavery. It is not a final act of defiance; it is the insignia of your failure. It is not a brave choice; it is the lack of all choices. Will death solve all your problems, will death rid you of your misery, will death ease your pain? It will not. They will simply stop to exist but so will you. Death is not freedom. It is the end.”

I did not know I had these words in me. It was like someone else was speaking from within. I did know however, I believed in every word that was spoken. I knew just a small speech made on an old bridge wouldn’t change my life. But a small idea had crept into my head that my life could indeed change and I knew the same idea had found a place in her mind as I saw her walking away into the shadow of the night. She didn’t thank me. She didn’t need to. Though it would seem that I had helped her, I believe it was she that had actually helped me.

For it did not matter what would happen with me from then on, because in this existence that I had so easily branded to be meaningless, somehow, I had saved a life.