He had reached the same conclusion; he had so much money, money that his generations would find it enough for luxury, but he didn’t have an iota of peace of mind. He had reached his goals, what he wished to achieve: a grand industrial estate but he felt that he had wasted his whole life. In his lunacy for wealth and work he had neglected his home and health. He had a wife, but no friend and no lover. He had progeny but no ‘children’. He had money but was still a destitute. He had doctors but no health, coworkers but none to trust in. He was breathing, that was true, but was he living? In his foolish pursuit, he had lost himself, his name and his identity.
When life becomes a dungeon, death loses its fear and transforms into the key to freedom. When life loses its charms, a man is lured by the seductive beauty of death. When life becomes a simoom, death offers the fresh breeze of Elysium, and a man decides to switch off the boring channel of life.
That night he decided to end it, to discontinue this pathetic tragedy of life. He chose his own office building as the rendezvous with Death, a huge skyscraper, a symbol of power, money and death. He chose midnight as the roof was supposed to be vacant then.
He sat in his office drinking coffee, and for the first time in his life he actually felt as if he could taste it. Before that he had been too busy to notice such a ‘small and unimportant’ thing. Slowly, he sipped his coffee and contemplated on his suicide: how would his wife react? By indifference, perhaps, he had never spent enough time at home to develop any relationship with her. His children would probably not even notice his absence. The oppressive weight of his loneliness made him miserable. He finished his coffee, grabbed his coat and looked around at his office where had spent all his precious moments of life. No one can conceive of the misery of a man who exhausted his life after a dream and then realized that he had been wrong all along. He closed door to his office and walked up the stairs to the roof. It was dark; he had taken only a few steps when he heard sobs coming from the corner. Curious, he moved towards the sound. He saw someone bent on the edge in a position to jump. The person was sobbing continuously. The silhouette was of a woman. Suddenly, she lifted her head, ready to jump.
“Wait!” he called involuntarily, surprised at himself.
The lady looked back at him and he was able to see face more clearly; she was his secretary. Her eyes were moist, red and tears continuously flowed.
“Please, don’t stop me. I want to end my life. I want to end this horrible nightmare. I don’t want to live,” she was hysterical.
To his own surprise, he felt an acute desire to save this woman, to save her from death and bring her back to life, to save this flower from withering. “But why?” he asked.
“This life is not worth living. There is no happiness left, nothing but grief and misery. I am tired of fighting. My husband has cancer and we have no money for his treatment, no donations, no nothing. In the start I decided to fight, but for how long? It has been years now, and I am exhausted. I want to end this right now!”
The pain was apparent in her voice and on her face. It pained him too. For the first time in his life he saw his secretary as a “human”. It was ironic, a woman about to commit suicide for lack of money, a man about to commit suicide for its excess. Life was nothing but a joke.
Suddenly he experienced an uncanny inspiration, every nook and cranny of his mind was filled with life. He felt like the Angel of Life, its distributor, and its preserver.
“But there is hope. As long as you live there is a ray of light. Life is a river teeming with fishes of love, beauty and joy. You just have to open your eyes and look.” He had no idea he could ever speak words like these.
It was all impulsive. He pointed to the sky, “look at all these shinning stars. We never notice them now, but they still twinkle, spreading happiness to those who wish to take it. In this swarthy sky they never lose their hope, their determination and will. They continue to send flickers of light even though they know they can’t fight off the darkness of the night, but they try, and they live.”
“Or think of the bright sun and the joy it brings. Every day heralds a new beginning, a new hope, a new life. Every day gives us the message to live and let live, to enjoy and spread joy, to seek and appreciate beauty and to be happy. Have you ever sat in a garden with cool breeze blowing, taking care of all your cares? Have you ever felt its gentle kiss and fresh touch? Have you ever heard its message of joy, love and life? Have you sat on a beach and savored the touch of sand and warmth of sunshine? Have you ever felt when you wake up in the morning that life is offering you yet another opportunity to live and adore? Have your enjoyed the chirping of birds in the morning, the shades of sky in the evening, the brilliance and radiance of moon, the inky sky in a downpour, the droplets of rain falling on your stretched hands, the music of their fall, the fragrance they educe from the soil, the chilled air without malice, the washed air after the rain, the flowers when they bloom and toss, the dew drops on leaves, the love that others offer you? When seen properly, there is joy is the sadness we experience here, it has its own taste, its own beauty. Every moment we spend in this world is a gift, something to be appreciated and thanked for, something to relish and savor something to experience and enjoy, and every moment we should be happy that we are alive.”
His words were producing an ecstasy in him. How ignorant and foolish he had been. He saw a shine coming into her eyes, life filling her up, and the color returning to her skin. The realization of the life’s beauty brightened on her, and death departed.
“Thank you, Mr. James, thank you.”
He smiled as he regained his name, his identity and himself.
“No, thank you, Ms.Sarah. Thank you. Please come to my office in the morning and collect a check. I will give all the money you need for your husband. No amount of money is worth a single breath of life,” he said, returning her name, identity and herself to her.
After she had left, he sat down on the roof. The body, bored with the constant introduction to the carpet, found comfort in cold, gray stones. He sat and waited for the dawn, to experience for the first time in life what the emerging sun has to offer.
« return.