Is our life al­ways cal­cu­lated?

Business Bhutan - - Editorial - SAYAN BASAK The writer is a dreamer, nar­ra­tor, writer, pub­lic speaker who is pur­su­ing en­gi­neer­ing at the Univer­sity of Cal­cutta. [Cour­tesy- ToI]

I al­ways loved a life which was more cal­cu­lated than re­al­ity. Like ev­ery one of you, I too de­fined suc­cess on the abil­ity of profit, loss and the per­cent­age of in­ter­est gained.

This had en­abled me to an­swer a ques­tion, “Why do peo­ple alien­ate oth­ers?” Or maybe “Why do peo­ple dump oth­ers while walk­ing on the same pave­ment?”

Even I did the same. I too ditched peo­ple be­cause of mea­gre ben­e­fits both at the per­sonal level and at the pro­fes­sional level. I al­ways had this idea that money can take you to any­where you want ir­re­spec­tive of any sup­port or help.

If you ask me my present sce­nario, I would wrap up the en­tire ques­tion by a sin­gle an­swer “Suc­cess­ful”. I have my own bun­ga­low, two pri­vate cars and a hand­some amount of salary. But tell me some­thing, de­spite be­ing a per­fect groom why should I marry some­one and con­nect my earn­ings to her?

And then, I stepped into cal­cu­la­tions. She was un­doubt­edly beau­ti­ful, tall, fair and my par­ents best per­fect match for me. But I cal­cu­lated. In­deed I thought that she should earn at least sixty per­cent of what I earned so that it’s equally even to link my as­sets to her.

More­over, she should be at least twenty seven (as sev­eral cal­cu­la­tions said) in or­der to be a typ­i­cal ma­ture wife who can guide both her pro­fes­sional and per­sonal life with­out any fuss.

I wanted a per­fect eye­sight, pre­ci­sion fig­ure, and un­matched eye­brows. I do not trip over­looks, but nei­ther have I wanted my kids to pos­sess the ge­netic dis­or­ders which my wife would carry.

And of course, while cal­cu­lat­ing the health of my fu­ture gen­er­a­tions, di­a­betes is a strict NO.

Yes, in­deed I sup­port all re­li­gious con­texts, but I do not want my kids to be diced over non­sense tit­il­lat­ing is­sues over re­li­gion while they are grow­ing up.

Well, af­ter set­ting al the pa­ram­e­ters, I pressed en­ter on the search op­tion

All I wanted to find is s per­fect word who will fill my blank, just as you would want.

But all these cal­cu­la­tions paced my age to thirty keep­ing my blank un­filled. Six years down the link, I was stuck in a room bounded by cal­cu­la­tors and matches based on cal­cu­la­tions.

One fine day, when I woke up, I found my­self amidst a pin drop si­lence.

I found doc­tors around me star­ing at my par­ents as if some­thing weird and ter­ri­ble had hap­pened.

I turned back to see my body ly­ing on a gos­samer wrapped sheet and a doc­tor be­sides my body writ­ing the cause of my death in my last cer­tifi­cate as ‘ Level III, Cys­tic Fi­bro­sis.

And above all, I saw a girl sit­ting be­side my body fum­bling upon the words ‘I tried my best to ace your cal­cu­la­tion, but failed ev­ery time’.

I sud­denly real­ized, even my heart had a door which could open.

P.S- The work is com­posed of fic­tions and imag­i­nary oc­cur­rences. Nei­ther the au­thor nor any­one is am­pli­fied by this story. It was an at­tempt by the au­thor to re­de­fine sci­ence of love.

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