The Price of Living

Easterine Kire

Come to think of it, it’s very nice to be alive. Because, whatever the grumblers might say, there is still nothing else to replace it. And we all get one beautiful chance at it, beautiful because there is only the one. No repeats. No fast forward, no rewind. The end is: Goombye hombre, hang up your sombrero. When you are dead, you are dead, finito. Some people preach that the dead are praying for us. No way. They have gone past all that. The only time the undead can pray for you is when they are in the flesh. After death, the cares, the worries and the anxieties of the flesh are left behind, aren’t they? Deviating a little from this argument, I think it is only when we are in the flesh that we need prayers; when we are out of the flesh, the need for prayers will be irrelevant. I doubt that the dead, who have left behind their fleshly selves, will need our prayers, or would be praying for us.

It is also only on earth that one can experience the pleasures of eating good food, connecting to great relationships and friendships, experiencing the beauty of nature and feeling the highs and lows of life – yes, even the lows because only the flesh can feel so bereft at the death of a loved one. Only the flesh can feel mortal fear of something or someone (that is why it is called mortal fear). Flesh and mortality are synonymous. Flesh knows it is limited so it fears or loves fearfully; the spirit knows it is limitless and it is beyond pain, beyond sickness, so it is fearless. Great teachers teach you how to focus on the spirit life and pay no attention to the flesh. Of course, that infuriates the flesh and it screams, ‘Look at me!’ ‘See me!’ ‘See me!’ ‘I am hurt, I am grieving, I am offended’ and endlessly so on. The same teachers teach that the best way to live life is to ignore the flesh and focus on the spirit totally. Why because the flesh is all about feelings and flesh life is about being dictated by feelings. The flesh life is about letting the body speak and dictating how you should feel. No wonder so many feel so wretched and miserable and victimised and let down by life.

I don’t know about you, but I certainly like the latter part of earthly life better than the early part. I have regrets but who doesn’t. But even so be the case, I have no wish to live this life over again. I’m just grateful for the lessons learnt, even if learned late in life, grateful for those who were generous in sharing their wisdom, enriching us with it. Happy the ones who can come by this wisdom early in life. 

This time of reflection comes at an odd time. A person close to me has been diagnosed with the big C and informed that treatment will involve a princely sum. It’s at times like this that I think the price of living is too high. Yet the family would still say, it is worth it even as they sell whatever they have to find that sum. Another friend is recovering from multiple surgeries. He says his insides feel like old bicycle tubes that have been patched together. At the end of it all, we are just so grateful to be alive. And our loved ones would do anything to keep us that way. But truly, does the price of staying alive have to be so steep? Sadly, it is the kind of blackmail many will end up paying because life is that precious. How I wish it could be different. 

It also makes one reflect on actions taking place in sister states like Mizoram where the preciousness of human life has been emphasised by their public actions. Refusing to send back the refugees should be seen as a humanitarian decision, not a political decision. Mizo leaders have chosen to show their humanity in the face of threat and coercion. It affirms belief in the worth of human lives for all of us who are not brave enough. Thank you, Mizoram, for teaching us that a human life has no price on it.