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Human beings are all born equal. I feel we are true democratic citizens per se. It’s rather hilarious to see people wrestling for equity and justice when they started to look haggard, not realizing we were true democratic citizens by birth. Though equal by birth, the course of our lives changes the very moment we scramble hard to make a stride by touching the ground without any support to clutch; the minute we make an awkward stride, it open’s the Pandora’s Boxㅡmany diverse things ensue thereafter.
At the first place, we start our voyage consciously or subconsciously without foreseeing the actual destination or port we are directed toward. Though, at the outset, almost everyone fails to speculate the ultimate destination, many believe that their trait, conduct, sacrifice, etc., on the way determine the ultimate destination and accordingly usher there. Sometimes it’s like saying what goes around comes around. No one can predict one’s fate; no fortune teller or oracle exists. No wonder making a voyage is no child’s play and is predominantly shrouded with ups and downs. The voyage is so inextricable that no one can contain boats from moving. Everyone must sail on!
Not surprisingly, everyone makes a different voyage. Sometimes you need to ask others’ help or assistance if your boat is not navigating as expected and your life and properties are at stake. Others’ help might disentangle complexities at times, but mostly it’s you who should be adventurous and meticulously navigate your boat in the right direction. I have been told that most people fall off the boat because of strong turbulence and at times in their attempt in saving others, especially beloved and close ones. Some give their lives while saving others for they’re on duty and risking their lives is the only gateway to win bread. Too bad!
Most importantly, however, people forget their destination as months, years and decades roll by. Almost all travelers get stuck in the network of worldly affairs during the voyage and it’s only some microscopic minorities who find the way through such mazes and give their destination priority. Some fall in love with others from different boats and sometimes they land up sailing in the same boat. As time passes, they give birth to a child and this very child has to start the same voyage their parents made. But things never stay constant. As they near the destination, their partners, once as cool as morning dew, turn grey with wrinkled face, reeking irresistibly.
Their voyage is nonetheless characterized by hierarchy; those who sail wisely by torpedoing others’ boats and know how to use water below become affluent and hold the upper hand; gradually, they manifest themselves as leaders and may dictate and oppress the lower ones in quest of fame and power. Conversely, the marginalized and downtrodden group who are devoid of charisma, strength and insights, unconditionally becomes slaves and maids; their properties are constantly being confiscated by stronger ones, leaders, through violence and assaults.
Most who fall off the boat or drowned in the ocean would be wretched ones. But I am certain that wretched ones have the higher probability of remembering their destination to that of affluent ones who are now stained by objective clinging and drenched with ego self. People from different walks of lives are encountered during the voyage. That being said, some will have to survive as whores, gays, lesbians, and so forth (Pardon my French!). Some will have to win bread as vagabonds, terrorists, etc., and some would land up spying on others’ boats, to mention a few.
Some cannot make to the shore and will have to breathe for the last time on the way, which can be also dubbed as the destination. Survivals will have to watch helplessly the vanishing of their folks like melting butter under the sun, for this chronic disease is incurable, even more lethal and devastating than HIV/AIDS.By the time they see the port, out of the blue, from a distant place, they’ve almost forgotten their destination and the purpose of their voyage. Consequently, their existence becomes more and more conspicuous when the shore stands doggedly straightforward with their boats and they find totally ill prepared to make to the shore.
If only one has unwaveringly focused on the right track and has made plausible and conscientious efforts by reminding the destination throughout the voyage, he/she will be heartily welcomed by people at the shore with full of warmth and smiles and with bouquets in their hands. If someone has been negligent and unmindful vis-à-vis the destination throughout the voyage, his/her welcome would be unmistakably cold and inhospitable even if he/she had made through to the shore. In a nutshell, the shore is the fated purgatory room for travelers where they're forced to testify before the jury; the verdict, however, becomes the priceless ticket for travelers' transmigration.
Food for thought: When was the last time we reminded ourselves of the destination?
KESANG WANGCHUK
