Immortality is complicated! Makes people go on with the debates of bodies, minds, spirits and so on. Who can’t remember the epic of ‘Samudramanthan’? Also, the experiments with alchemy to gain immortality. On the other hand the ideas of vampires who live for thousands of years unless they are killed by a slayer or by the ‘holy’ things to various epics in Panchatantra where a rich man / king asks for immortality to god and the god grants it to him/her with a serious trick involved and the guy either dies eventually or asks for death himself in the end. A lot has happened in order to gain that one thing- Immortality.
On the other hand there are arguments such as there are some people who have already gained immortality with their work. Their bodies have died but their lives and life stories will be remembered forever. People like Shakespeare, Einstein and so on will live forever at least somewhere in the world in somebody’s heart. They are pretty much immortal in that sense. Some argue that the ideas are immortal. Even if people die, thoughts will stay. I think we all have an opinion on this one. Ofcourse we do. Well, there are opinions when we don’t know. If we know, there is only truth.
It was half open. That door. She was walking down the corridor when she saw it. She never saw it open before ever. It was there in the wall. Mostly unnoticed as if it never existed. It was open that night. She was curious. The nearer she went to the door, she could hear something. People talking. Perhaps a group of people were there. Behind the door. The door was half open with the help of a chair in between door and the wall.
It was a chilly winter night and she was suppose to meet her friend in the library corridor. That’s when it caught her attention. She slowly moved her feet towards it when she heard somebody shouting her name aloud from far behind. She looked back and as expected it was her friend. They hadn’t seen each other for a long long time now for both were crazy busy ith their University work. Happiness- check. Excitement levels- check and she dragged her with herself and both sat on the broad stairway in a corner chirping like magpies.
The friend got busy on the phone. Silence reminded her of the door again. The friend hung up. Chirping again. For some hours and good-bye waves, hugs and kisses. The door again. She went there finally. Hiding her face behind the door sneaking in silently such that nobody notices her from inside. It was dark anyway and in the dim yellow light her face couldn’t be seen.
It was a theater. More like a secret theater. It was in her University but she never knew that it existed there. Stage – her much beloved and missed stage. They were practicing for a drama there. That girl was acting to faint down and die. Not much could be heard. From the look of it seemed like a tragic comedy. She stood there for a while. A moment of nostalgia. Memories of stay-backs after schools. That friendliness with the stage, those dances she had choreographed sometimes and sometimes participated in, those speeches that she used to give every now and again in front of a crowd of 50 to thousands of people, those dramas she had participated in, dramas she had fought for to participate in convincing her parents/class-teachers that she won’t let her study suffer. There was not a single year that went without going on that stage. She ran away from there as quickly as possible. She needed not to be distracted. She needed to finish the work she was at the University for.
After she had completed what she was suppose to do, she went there again. The door was close. There were no sounds coming from behind. They had left perhaps. The rehearsal was over. All she wanted to do then was to jump in and ask them if they had a space for a side-actor somewhere in some corner. It was too late. She needed to move and go home before midnight. She needed to sleep and work the other day.
It was immortal, the performer in her. She was happy to know that.