Mat wanted to die because
he thought life was too frivolous an affair to deserve itself. He had already consulted many experts on the
matter before he ran into me.
The doc whom he approached for medical assistance bluntly refused. “You want me to spend the rest of my life in
prison?” asked the doc furiously.
“What prevented the doc
from giving me the injection was fear of the prison,” Mat explained to me. "Not any love of life."
“If the law did not prevent suicide, would
you have helped me?” Mat asked the doc. “If
I try to commit suicide and fail, will the law be punishing me for failing to
live or for failing to die?”
The doc stared blankly
into Mat’s eyes. Then the blankness
became fury. “Get out,” he said.
Then Mat went to his pastor. “Nowhere in the Bible is it said that suicide
is a sin,” explained Mat to the pastor.
And the pastor thought Mat was right.
The Old Testament’s Yahweh was very fond of rules and regulations. In fact, the only purpose of His existence
was to give rules to His chosen people.
Poor Jews. They must have wished
time and again for their God to choose some other race as the target of his
affections.
“You’re right,” said the pastor
to Mat. “Even the ten commandments don’t
stipulate that Thou shalt not kill thyself.”
But the pastor couldn’t
help Mat. He didn’t know why but he knew
suicide was a sin even if the Bible didn’t prohibit it.
“So the Bible is not the
ultimate truth!” lamented Mat as he took leave of his pastor who had been
thrown into deep contemplation by the rigmarole that appeared before him in the
shape of a god-shaped hole in Mat’s soul.
It was then that Mat ran
into me.
“Philosopher Schopenhauer
would have been the right person to help you,” I said having listened to him
patiently. “He could speak about suicide
very joyfully while having a sumptuous dinner.”
“Where is he?” asked Mat
eagerly.
“He died,” I said
indifferently because Schopenhauer had died a century before I was born. “How cruel!” said Mat. I don’t know which he found cruel:
Schopenhauer’s death or my indifference.
I went to the gallery in
my mobile phone and showed Mat a picture of a road with a signboard which read,
“SIGN NOT IN USE.”
Mat laughed.
“So you have not lost the
ability to laugh,” I said.
“What do you mean?” he
became serious again.
“You say life is
frivolous. Why don’t you laugh at it
then?” I was trying to give Mat a reason
for living. Most people want a reason
for living though there really is none.
They borrow one from the Bible or the pastor, from Schopenhauer or the
shopping mall, or from an engineering college or a medical college. Let me be Mat’s Schopenhauer, I decided with
some pride. Maybe, one day Mat will write his autobiography in which my name
will appear as the person whose SIGN NOT IN USE saved his life.
“If a sign is not in use,”
I listened with the concentration of a soul-saving counsellor as Mat asked me, “if
a sign is not in use, how long can it continue to be in use?”
Mat was thinking
seriously. “Life is not as frivolous as I
thought,” he said as started walking with a heavy head.
He will become a
Schopenhauer, I thought. “It is
difficult to find happiness within yourself,” the philosopher had
declared. “But it is impossible to find
it anywhere else.”
Beautiful, meaningful story..
ReplyDeleteSome of the many paradoxes of life. ...
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