The beginning and the ending

Life, the beautiful composition, is much more complicated than the spider’s web, looking at which one can find out the least about the path along which the web was built. It just has a beginning, the vacuum in which the web was supposed to be weaved and an ending, the completed artwork. The interim has neither been witnessed by a human eye nor has been recorded in manuscripts.
Life too is similar. The birth is the beginning and the death is the end. The interim is unrecorded. The birth has a purpose to be fulfilled assigned by God. The death has a result- of success or failure, the second dominating most of the cases.

What has been done in those hundred years is what no one bothers about. Those anxious moments, the hard work, the sleepless nights and the insecure days are all forgotten along with our death. Not a single person on this earth, except our dearest friend or lover remember those days. They are all forgotten as time advances.

What has taken birth has withered. One does not think for even a second while plucking out a withered flower from a tree, fearing the loss of aesthetic beauty. The aroma it has spread around, the excitement it has awaken in the eyes and the amusement it has provided to the butterflies are all forgotten. What one perceives it to be is not what it truly needs it be endowed with.

Life has a purpose. One is lucky enough if he is able to unearth that deeply hidden purpose. One is even more lucky is he can understand that the task he has been assigned is unachievable and decides to lead a happier life rather than meaningful life.


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