50

A few days from now, I am turning half-a-century old. It is only because the event is some sort of a milestone that I'm writing about it. I have not acquired the habit of fussing over my own birthday. If it passes uneventfully, without anyone recalling it or greeting me, then so much the better. I would never feel hurt in any way. I've always thought and believed that one can see and appreciate life better in anonymity. I can be as unobtrusive as possible as I witness life's fluid events. A famous (or infamous) person simply cannot indulge in this luxury, unless he wants to be mobbed by those obsessed with his presence, or those who crave to do him harm.

At half-a-century old, I most probably have less than half-a-century more to go. Not that I'm not avid about longevity, but I have looked at the lifespan of males from both my parents' families, and as far as I know, none among them were ever centenarians.

It was a sobering discovery and, considering that I still desire to accomplish a lot of things, makes me feel pressured and hurried. I think that, generally, we all leave behind a lot of unfinished business when we finally go. It's either because a lifetime is insufficient to do everything we have and want to do, or because we have a tendency, in the initial, to waste a considerable number of our years.

At this point in my life, I'm beginning to deal with the possibility that I may be unable to give substance to all my dreams. But I will do my very best to give justice to the gift of life. I will always look for happiness and hope in even the unlikeliest of places and circumstances.

I look older. My face looks more weathered, with wrinkles creeping and catching up in every nook. My grays seem to be multiplying exponentially among hair strands that grow longer but not thicker. I'm pleasantly surprised by all these. I feel basically the same. I find myself more forgiving and tolerant, though, and also more appreciative of quiet solitude.

I think the years of clean living are actually paying off. I feel that I have the stamina and endurance I had ten years ago, give or take a few occasional aches in the joints here and there. The emphasis of my efforts is on the quality of life, rather than on its longevity. I don't intend to be a long-lived cripple. Good health and being ambulatory are important for me, the requisites for survival among the human species and its kind of societies.

"Life is like a box of chocolates..."

It could well be my favorite quote from Hollywood, coming from one of my favorite films. I seriously consider the quote as potential epitaph material, if I will be unable to choose from among my writings. Lest I be misunderstood as being preoccupied with the thought of death, I am not. I know we're all headed in its general direction, and I've just come to accept that we will all have to stare it in the face one day. I do believe that many of us do not fear death per se, instead, it is the pain that leads to it. We all have a natural abhorrence for suffering, and this is evident in our preference for convenience and creature comforts.

I saw "Forrest Gump" (again) on television, and for the nth time I was held captive by its moving story. I know it's fictional, but the wisdom, the emotions have parallels in real life. Innocence, the struggle to keep it, and losing it eventually; death and the feeling of betrayal; perseverance and prayer, and redemption in the end. Life proceeds inexorably, only momentarily stopping for our tragedies, and then it picks up its pace again. We choose to be either left behind or to move on and keep pace with it.

Although Forrest is the unmistakable central figure in the film, I identify more with Lieutenant Dan. Gung-ho and audacious, with enviable deftness and intrepidness. But the ironclad persona is a facade, like the facades we all have, and Lt. Dan crumbles and comes crashing down under the weight of physical and emotional pain. He then finds Life as only either rancid or tasteless. He lives his days with a simmering disgust for the world and even God. He stays on though, either out of perseverance, or the cowardice to take his own life. He has the good fortune, however, to have a redeemer in the person of Forrest, who makes him an offer and, maybe unwittingly, provides the lieutenant an avenue to possibly re-route his static and wasting life. He succeeds eventually, and finds himself back in the mainstream, all the more wiser and materially affluent.

We are all looking for our own Forrest Gumps to redeem us from our inextricable situations, to redirect our lost paths, or to help us find peace and contentment. This is why we take up religion, do yoga, recite mantras, get immersed in mysticism and the occult, or convert to Buddhism. Exploiting this desperation, the unscrupulous among us have turned God and gods into a profitable business enterprise, with gullibility the best assurance of its success. While there are those who succeed in finding what they seek, there are more who do not, and the best they can manage is to languish in despair and disappointment throughout their lives.

My favourite Hollywood quote, although very befitting to one of my favourite films, seems to be wanting in accuracy. Our boxes of chocolates do not offer us plain sight of everything once opened. Rather, the morsels are wrapped individually, each enticing in its unique shape, colour, contour, and aroma. I'm more than halfway through my box; I've had some really good and tasty pieces. There are those that delivered expected goodness, and others which caught me pleasantly or unpleasantly surprised, off-guard even. Some were so good, I only took small bites off each, re-wrapped and saved them for another day. These are the ones made up of hope, love, and happiness, the pieces I do not wish to run out of.

I want to live forever but not here.

Worldwide, the human lifespan is generally on the increase. This is very evident in first-world countries where the relatively widespread availability of medical care and medication has made possible people living long lives with quality attached to them. In poorer, less-developed countries, lifespans, too, have increased, although at much lower figures. However, the universal conclusion is that people live longer nowadays.

If in the near future there will be a pill or procedure to extend our lives to well past the hundred-year mark, I will have none of it. Personally, I consider a 85 - 90
lifespan as agreeable; not too long or short, but just right. Even if I die at some point between the ages of 70 and 80, I will not be disappointed or feel cheated. I do not wish to outlive my family and friends. It will be most lonely. I do not want to be frail and bedridden. I want to still be able to go out and feel the sun and wind on my face, and to see the clear blue sky.

I find it odd that most people, if they could, would want to live much, much longer, if not forever. I do not. I would want to eventually earn my rest from this life. The world is so beautiful, yes, but most of the time we are blind to it, prevented and distracted from true appreciation by necessary and pressing human needs and concerns. I'm certain that over-extending lifespans will not have for a goal a deeper appreciation of the beauty of this world but, rather, the continuance of selfish ends and personal motives.

I want to live forever but not here. There must be a more beautiful place than the most beautiful this world can offer. There must be some place where happiness is enduring and unconditional. There must be.