The meaning of our life

Not very long ago, the question used to be “what is the meaning of life?” and a lot of intelligent folks from various walks contributed their two paise to the monologue. That was then. As of now, the question should be “what is the meaning of my life?” and nobody else should be allowed to pitch in. To each, their own method of misery. Your life, your meaning. My life, my meaning. The more i think about this updated question, the more convinced i become about the definite lack of answer though. There is a meaning in there somewhere, of course, but it keeps changing with time. The shape of my actions contribute to the curves of my destiny. And if there is any certainty at all, then that emerges from the deep-rooted desire to attain immortality. In other words, to defeat time and thus attain control over the meaning. But then, this decaying body would prove to be a terrible equipment for a plan as grand as overcoming death. So, there has to be other ways to go about it. If you look around, you’ll notice that a lot of people choose progeny as the means to achieve immortality. The hope of living on through your kids — surnames being the key codes — is as old a trick in the book as the book itself. The only problem being, this should have been the last trick to check out, not the very first on the to-try list. Of late, this peculiarly natural trick has proved very successful for those who seek it. Nothing else can attest the spike in human population from the 20th century (1.6 billion in 1901) to the 21st century (6.1 billion in 2001). Like i said earlier: to each, their own. As for me, i genuinely believe that the meaning of my life will stop changing with time the day i freeze those moments worth revisiting again. For example, by writing a book about something that will crystallize all the wordless feelings of a particular period. This way, my books will not only outlive me but also the very framework of time. For me, words might be the tool; for somebody else, it could be a table or a glassware or a poster on the wall. Anything that you leave a timestamp on before leaving this world. Anything that gives meaning to your existence even after you cease to exist.

I might be wrong whereas the meaning of my life could remain true.