The Answer

Endless mysteries reside in the vast, and none less mysterious universe, ranging
from the innocent queries of an infant, to the complex curiosities of thinkers. Some
are known, yet unsolved, while others remain concealed. One of them is perhaps
the most known, and is undoubtly in the process of decipherment: the dilemma
whether extra terrestrial life exists, or is life the lone soul on earth in the ever
growing universe. However, an even more peculiar mystery tends to exist, which
perhaps is thought by all, but sought by few. Life…

What is life? What does it mean? What is its purpose?

Many scholars, philosophers, or otherwise thinkers, have sought answers to

these riddles, and discovered many versions of the solutions. Such people were not
the only ones in pursuit of the answers; a legion of artists, linguists, actors, writers,
and so on, have presented their accounts on life in a unique way, according to their
own perspectives.

For different people, life has different meanings, and purposes. For an artist, life
is a piece of art, filled with infinite colours, marks, and shapes; imprinted on a blank
paper; revealing the fragrance of nature, and boasting the creativity of The Artist.
For a poet, though, life is but a poem, generating the beauty of words, the power of
rhythm, and the uncertainty in meaning. When seen through the eyes of a
perfectionist, life is but an imperfect perfection…

The answer changes when a writer writes. In symbols that form words, in least or
most understandable language, a writer describes life as seen not by others, and
goes beyond the natural rhythm, comparing it to the shine of a dew drop at dawn,
or the smoothness of stone in a shallow stream.

Scientists, mathematicians, and numerologists pronounce life – rather indirectly –

as whole integers, ranging from negative one to positive one, with the least in range
proclaiming the most, and the most preserving a limit. Thought of life as ‘negative
one’ equates its value to infinity, as in positive arithmetic from null, negative comes
at infinite integral value. In short, they think of life as a never-ending phenomenon,
encompassing the complexities of simple arithmetic and geometric matrices.
Considering life as a positive one is perhaps a more practical way to describe it. It is
often quoted: ‘Everything that has a Beginning, must have an End’; life being a
positive integer stores its value to some limit, thus claiming that it began, and it will
end. Calling life a null integer, or zero, is perhaps quite obnoxious, which claims that
life itself is void, a colossal cosmic mistake. But is it so…?

A programmer correlates life to a program; for a programmer, life is but a

combination of numerous and various individual modules, consisting of different
complex syntaxes, formed with endless variables and constants, linking with not less
amount of classes, objects, and elements, with different combinations of
multidimensional arrays and if-else statements, contained statically or otherwise in
various functions, procedures or methods. Compiling and executing these modules
simultaneously, results in development of an ultimate program/project, called Life.

Another group places life in a much different class; gamers claim it as a game, and
play it as it is – with unproduceable graphics, and unimaginabale modes and story
lines. Actors, players, and directors/producers acknowledge life as a drama; a play in
which all take part, and act their roles according to scripts they unknowingly have
knowledge of. William Shakespeare, a name which none are unaware of, dictated in
three lines, his perspective on life. In ‘The Seven Ages of a man’, he quoted:

“All the world’s a stage;

And all the men and women merely players;

They have their exits and entrances;

…”

To him, the world was a stage, and the people actors with their roles. If the world is
a stage, and people actors, then what is the play/drama? The answer: Life.

Being none else but a person in different stages, the answer is seen in different
perspectives. A worshipper considers life as worship; an innocent sees life in
innocence; for an honest, life is honesty… But a child’s life is its parents; a mother’s life
is but her child; a lover’s life is love, and a loner’s life is loneliness…

While life is seen through these, and countless other lenses, there remains the
riddle of what life really is. To me, life is perhaps all that exists, all that is, and is not;
life is a connection –a bond between all known, and all not known. And this is my
answer…