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#Image source: courtesy Creative Commons
(Part 1)
#When Plato said that philosophy is learning how to die, he was not being morbid. It is the inescapable fact of our mortality that provides the horizon for our thinking.
(From, A Student’s Guide to Philosophy. Ralph M. McInerny, 1999.ISI books, page 14)
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As if sent on a philosophical odyssey, I recoiled into my inner self, searching for a rational ‘licence’, which I must produce in a jiffy to silence this “man” - this man in me ably represented by this man outside; one of the fantastic philosophers we are blessed with in the department He would not stop taunting and prompting my philosophical laxity. In one of his lectures, he had spurred us into reflecting; that, unless we discover by ourselves the reason for existing, this life is not worth its pains and sorrow. He reiterated that if we took a comparative analysis of pleasures life could offer and its vicissitudes, we are better dead than alive. He continued that whether we subscribe to the school of determinism or not, certain aspects of our life are evidently determined, and to an extent will continue to have a bearing on our natural course of life: We found ourselves in this world without our consent, we will leave it regardless of our desire to live forever. Yet, no one is absolutely and infallibly sure of the purpose of existence. Why we have this natural inclination to choose life over death and protect it with the last atom of our breath, will continue to remain a mystery to him.
With this little but worrisome push, a voyage of inquiry was set in me. My philosophical ship at full cruise, sailing through ocean of thoughts, carried by the tide of reason. The ghosts of many philosophers who in their rigor have attempted the same quest continued to haunt me, I launched an inquiry into finding the reason for our natural choice of life to death, determined to settle it once and for all.
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Alone in my quest? I am not sure. For I think I’m guarded by the faint echoes of one and a thousand sages, men of intellectual substance, heroic figures past and present in the history of mankind and all the fools that ever trod the surface of the earth.
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The turbulence of the current of the world ocean notwithstanding, I stood resolute in my quest, flipping through world-views as new lands and climes engulf me. However, as much as I wouldn’t want to rationalize my instinctive affinity to life, neither would I want my selfish nature, nor the faith I accidentally belong to (as a result of my birth and background), nor the consequence of the epoch I live, in the history of human existence, becloud my logic. For that is the compass with which I navigate. That I may find a possible selfish escape on my own, and leave the whole world to their fate I very likely, so I need to guide against that.
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I need an answer that will serve as an island of hope, a strong fortress where people of all creed, colour, beliefs, religion, social status and moral affiliations can run to for cover. That would be a safe ground for berthing; where this ominous question about the purpose of life would not come and destroy again. The same task in the past has led many others into floating islands of opinions which immediately disappeared as soon as the cannon of logic behind this problematic question- why live when you can escape through death?- rears its gorgon face. The thought of this alone could provoke many horrors; flashes an image in my mind. The image of peasant Indian farmers soaked neck deep in debt caused by one of mother nature’s blind deeds - draught. Having exhausted material possession to offset the debt they have accrued due to dearth and pestilence, they resorted to selling their natural possession; kidney, blood and some other vital parts- call that ‘nature to settle nature.’ But when debt still stared them in the face, “the only way they know through which they could escape was suicide” wrote an India newspaper.
Imperceptibly loud, the voice of this poet rings in my head:
O wretched man! In what a mist of life
Enclosed with dangers and with noisy strife
He spends his little span; and overfeeds
His crammed desires, with more than nature needs!
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#Image source: courtesy Creative Commons
At this moment, let time and spatial movement freeze to a pause. My soul like a wandering spirit shuttling among what individuals all over the world could be doing right now: their conditions - from the sorry state to the envious one, their experience- from the tingling sensation of sex to the nagging throes of pain, their covert acts and thoughts, their wishes, aspiration and passion, in short all that make us to be existing. What rational explanation could serve as the key to free these people from the present and let them continue with that which they call life? Can a pattern be constructed out of these myriad of actions, inactions, beliefs, events, ideologies, philosophies and experiences that could serve as a compass for every rational being? From which every man could draw meaning for his own existence? This is the task before me.
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But, how audacious a project? To squeeze out meaning from this meaningless consciousness call existence? A fundamentalist of the East and an atheist of the West, a pleasure seeker of the North and a stoic of the South. A war torn country, family and life. A five-star hotel honeymoon and a poverty/disease stricken figure. The caress of a supple, well fleshed, well nourished and well tendered skin, contrast against the stiffness of a back bent over in hard labour. The despotic rule of a dictator and the subjugation of the down trodden. The guile of politician savouring a sip from a steaming cup under a relaxing shade, and the seeming foolishness of their people slaving it out in the scorching sun. What possible explanation could serve as a rational justification for their choice of life over death?
(Part 2)
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Of all fears that man is cursed with, death ranks the highest. Perhaps serving as foundation for other fears, and led to so many irrational beliefs. It is so awesome and frightful - ceasing to exist. But what is death that it should take away our optimistic outlook on life and replace it with so much morose and regrets and fear and questions? Is death not (when contrasted with life) ceasing to live but not ceasing to exist? Because at least the material components that made us would dissolve at death, return to atoms and mix with others to constitute other things in Nature? So, in hardcore materialistic logic parlance, what dies is not the physical tangible matter man is composed of but the sum total of his experience and history: his wisdom, joys and sorrow, defeats and victories, his dreams and sense of humour, his love and hate, his qualities and values: All that sums up to make his personality. And scientifically speaking, they are just abstract manifestation of a living brain!
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This odyssey is surely a daunting one. And, without unnecessarily wasting my time in the labyrinth of the illogicality and irrationality of divine theory, I took the naturalistic path, though full of bumps and shaggy heads. And following it I came upon a THOUGHT: A golden egg nestled inside junks of shafts and chaffs of life. It is that if life (and the consciousness of it) is as a result of fortuitous occurrence, this phenomenon is extremely rare and unequalled yet, probing the universe with whatever feeble and piteous instruments man could device now. THEN CAN’T WE EXTRACT THE VALUE FOR LIFE BASE ON THE RARITY OF ITS OCCURRENCE? From this I draw that the thrills of the state of being conscious is worth preserving as long as nature would allow. Can’t Sisyphus be joyful for being the cause of the perpetual movement of the stone? Can’t he derive happiness at the stone’s descent from the cliff? Isn’t he privileged to savour the beauty of the mountain-side and the panoramic view from its top? But what in a situation where the thrills turn sour at nature’s blind decree, such as seen in the case of the Indian peasant farmers? Or cancer’s impromptu visit? Or any other horrible existential fate man with his essence is cursed with? What rational justification could impel us to choose the continuous endurance of the dictates of nature over death even at the throes of perpetual pain? Here it becomes more demanding- that we find the purpose for existence before nature’s unpleasant accidents caught up with us. And what seem rational I could muster here is that MAN SHOULD LIVE TO PLAN FOR THE EVENTUALITY OF DEATH! With this a key piece is found, to fix the big jigsaw puzzle existence has presented to man since the dawn of reason.
The religious man is planning for the eventuality of death; underlying his activities in life is the ultimate wish to gain ‘the glorious life after death’ if such exist at the end of the tunnel.
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The atheist is planning for the eventuality of death; before he returns to oblivion he needs to set his values on course: perhaps to shed his fellow men, of the blindfold of irrational beliefs. All need a spatio-temporal existence to do this. And thus it applies to all mortal: planning for the eventuality of death is the intent of nature, life or existence.
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So let the hedonist seek his pleasure within the time frame of his existence. Since no other existence is as sure as the one he is presently experiencing, he has a race against time.
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A highly deformed man should plan for the eventuality of death: He should draw out the questions he will take to God if there is one. That what rational explanation could make him suffer such a deplorable fate, given only one chance to live? If he neither believes in God nor after life, let him do all within his capacity and plan for the eventuality of death. Let him use his reason and science to curb nature, not to bring into existence, another who will suffer his fate.
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“And Man saw that all is passing in this mad, monstrous world, that all is struggling to snatch, at any cost, a few brief moments of life before Death's inexorable decree. And Man said: `There is a hidden purpose, could we but fathom it, and the purpose is good.”
(From A Free Man's Worship by Bertrand Russell)
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Having found this haven, this island, I prepare a return journey from the inner odyssey, to come and announce to humanity, the good news of hope.
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Halt! Something is materialising by the stern of the ship which I could not discern. The silhouette looks more like a suicide bomber with a ready-to-detonate shell to his right and the switch of a time bomb by his left. And with a mischievously evil grin, lascivious smile to him though, he announces his intent to me: “I am also planning for the eventuality of death!”
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