Shamasis Bhattacharya

Simply because there is no road, does not mean that the journey stops. Perhaps, after the meandering journey of our lives, all of us do reach an end. But, as someone had said, “at the end it is the journey that matters the most.”

Occasions remind us of this end — birthdays, anniversaries, that New Year, and more.

Truant may be the comprehension,
Yet not so likely haggard.
The myth resides within the deemed importance,
And importance, within the carcass.

Such occasions provoke reflections on days believed wasted. Days when the mind might have engaged in something else — something productive, conducive, or different — but surely… something else.

And barely after the trial of time,
The valiant warrior ponders,
Had he rehearsed before the time of trial,
He could then have wrought wonders.

Even the most accomplished existence follows this pattern of thought. Why? Well… the answer lies in the word ‘else.’ Somehow, the insatiable greed of humankind for defining the undefined, results in such elusive advocacy.

Thus, at the end, I too wonder: “What have I achieved through the passing of time?” Yes, I try to console myself with the many credits I assign to myself. But are they real? Has my existence contributed a single thing that has genuinely helped?

Mother Teresa pondered the same question. And, I guess, so do you. Any deviation from this is merely another self-proclaimed credit, devised to satisfy the mind.