Living: A Waste of Time?

Living: A Waste of Time?

   Philosophy was the bachelor degree I had completed in college. Though it did not make me wiser in real life and practical issues, it did open my mind to welcome discussions about different topics; and not remain a ‘one-track’-minded person. It was also my cross, perhaps my DUTY; as I became the only person who could sit with my near-senile father and discuss his views; something which no one had the patience to do.

    The question he always asked, as countless were the times we had discussed it; was “Why do we have to live; and then die?”

    He was not asking for the meaning of life; or the end of it. He wanted to understand the ‘REASON’ why people had to go through struggles; endless trials and tribulations; or even strove to attain their objectives, only to experience death’s inevitable arrival.

    Attempting to satiate his obstinately persistent enquiry; I told him that there is no “one, final ultimate answer” to the subject of his meditation. Each person created his or her own answers as to why do what they do. His rebuttal was to claim that people do act because of their personal reasons: they work to support their families; they exert much effort to gain fame and fortune; they commit wrongs against their neighbours to have an advantage over them; noble or shameful actions for the realization of objectives; after which, when their time on this earth has come; what were all those ‘reasons/goals/ambitions’ for?

    My best guess was for the intention of gaining immortality; so that they shall be revered and respected for their accomplishments. Still, attaining this concept of a perpetual existence is still a reason for doing an act. But it does not explain the relevance of its attainment.

    So why then are people put on this earth to chase their dreams or fulfil their obligations; only to die later in life? Was it not all for naught? Numerous individuals will counter this argument as one that is negative, because they are too scared to face an unanswered truth; much like persons who dislike an endless saga the conclusion of which they fear they will never know. Hence they will fabricate an end; draw boundaries in a road of infinity; in order to appease their souls. But then, the challenge would be to ask them why they have to placate themselves only to meet their demise? Is life a waste of time and effort?

    My father was often despised or rejected whenever he asked such questions. Of course, he had to learn when the proper time was to ask it; as he usually brought the subject up like an old man continuously bragging about encyclopaedias and almanacs in the age of computerized research methods. But he deserves credit for being at an age when death is more ominous, yet does not choose to fool himself  with finite answers; even if he knows he may never find ‘the ultimate reason’. Perhaps it is because I offered him a contention as well…

    I asked him “What is your reason for knowing why we have to live, and then die?”