To be or not to be

Of all the things I have pondered over death was never one of them, now I wonder why it wasn’t. Death is the most certain part of your life.

Life is adulterous harlot who only has a brief affair with you, death is your true love, finally you sleep in her inviting arms.

Do you think your life would have been better if you knew when were you going to die? Or you prefer the ignorance of not knowing? What if I knew I was dying in a week? That would have been better for me, I would have ran to every loved one and told them how much I loved them, did all the things I wished to do and so on. But what if I knew I was going to die in 5 years? I would have quit my MBA. Never would have taken a job, never marry, never do anything of permanence. The proverbial life on rent. Would I like that, certainly not. In this case I think ignorance is bliss.

The brevity of life is I think the whole essence of it, how much people love their lives and much mankind values life as a whole is amazing. I think that people knowing that this life wouldn’t be with them for long is the fact that they value it so much. Well, at least most people do. Some people go ahead and take their own. It is difficult for me understand why suicides are so frowned over in this world. It is supposed to be a coward’s way, who quit and took the easy way out. But isn’t our life all about taking the easy way out? And people are anyways inherently selfish. So why condemn suicide? Isn’t enduring a punishing life a much worse fate than death itself? Death is a release, it is not a punishment. When you are gone the things you did, things that you wanted to do, and things that others wished you would are not going to matter anyways.

I think the question was brilliantly pondered over by Shakespeare in ‘Hamlet’

“To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to,
'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd.
To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.”

There is no afterlife. No heaven or hell, nothing to be accounted for after you are gone. What we have is right here and now.

But still, we the people, dread death and disapprove of suicide.

Some people argue about their fear of death that they are leaving behind their loved ones who would be devastated by their death. Yes they will be, but you will no longer be around to feel their pain. None of it will matter anymore, none of anything will matter. I am sure they are children being murdered and people suffering through imaginable pain the very time you are reading this. But you do not know about it, and that makes it easy for you. So will be the pain of the people around you when you are dead. You won’t feel it, ever.

Moreover, suicide is illegal and punishable by law. People scream about liberty and freedom to live their lives as they see fit. What about the liberty to end it? I think making suicide punishable is the most ridiculous thing ever. It's like fining someone who did the mistake of being penniless. For me it only means one thing, that the society eggs you that if you attempt suicide, you better finish the job, otherwise we will punish you.

And what is the reason of our life anyways? Nothing but to aid the perpetuity of life itself. To make life easier for the people who are already here and to prepare for those who are expected to come. Life according to me has no higher purpose. I don’t condemn anyone who indulges in it. Maybe I am hedonist, but then so is everyone else. At least I am an honest one.

To end I will quote this quote which has always intrigued me.

“Balian of Ibelin: You go to certain death.
Hospitaller: All death is certain.”