I just finished reading a book. A mystery novel, as always. For some reason, I think, mystery keeps one more intrigued than romance. And, in my perspective, the mysteries are way more romantic than romance. This may be because we don’t know what’s going to happen the next moment. The uncertainty keeps the rush going.
In my opinion, mysteries present before us the new dimensions of life, the realistic aspects.They politely and secretly hold up the mirror to our face without offering us any time to realise it. The mystery shelters within it all expressions a human can possess, from romance to fear, hesitancy, realisation, passion, possessiveness, aggression, remorse and to every emotion one can ever possess. The author cleverly and beautifully poems down his state of mind, commencing with his romantic and intense feelings later showcasing the reality of life, thus enhancing the interest and making a sharp contrast between our fantasy and the reality. The transition of the plot from fantasy to reality makes us believe that whatever one may see, hear or infer about a person might not always be true, that maybe, we are living in a world full of fake people.
As Shakespeare puts it, “all the world’s a stage”. The moment we get exposed to the outer world,the enactment starts as if it’s a scripted play, and we are all, the characters. And one reason for this role play might be because we, and the people around us, like to, or precisely, are in a habit to live a fake life of a fake character. A life seemingly beautiful is coated with love, peace and success. But the mystery persists. It continues to be incomprehensible. Stories unfold character by character, unlimited characters, in numerous stories, perennial mysteries.
Life is mystery. No one’s real, because either they have no desire to be real, or they are afraid that their dearest ones might leave them on being acknowledged about their reality. Everybody wants to get noticed, nobody likes being alone and maybe, to fill their emptiness, they do everything they can to receive care, love and attention and some of the time of a passenger of life to talk in serenity.
Maybe, we face the truth of our lives too often, and the guilt and repentance prevent us from loving ourselves. There are a lot of mysteries that remain undecipherable, unfolding the various aspects of this long journey of life, seeking the attention of the visitors passing nearby through their attempts to achieve their goals in life, which they think would give them extreme happiness. These mysteries remain a mystery because we either don’t have time to focus onto them or else we are preoccupied with a whole lot of problems we are facing in our lives, so we consider to ignore such problems of such other people considered alike by us.
No novel, play, plot or character can give as good thrills as the dangerous and extreme challenges of life which, when won, not only give us immense satisfaction and pleasure but also various lessons, such grave lessons that turn us into someone else we didn’t know reside within us, a familiar stranger, an unknown friend. These challenges are what make life interesting. Challenges are opportunities to meet our unnoticed self and our aspirations. People who are able to meet themselves, are able to achieve self- actualisation. And self-actualisation is what we are rewarded on solving that long mystery—life.
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