What is the most heroic life?
They ask him, expecting some animated response. He is a writer, a man behind the greatest of the comics and so he smiles,
‘He is that character that rushes to help the person that struggles. The person that smiles, so that his own darkness doesn’t effect the others, the one that laughs so his own tears don’t mellow their hearts. He’s the one who lives, and lives with a love that is contagious. He’s the one that loves, and loves with a heart that is pure. Who is not willing to compromise, not when it comes to the joy of others. The one that hopes that beneath every smile, there is an even happier heart that follows.’
They stare, the oblivious heads coked. An old man, they call him, with ideas too unrealistic for life.
But what they never realise is that his heroes were never loved for the powers they boasted, they were only hailed for love that their meagre hearts possessed.
They say that there are two tragedies in life. One is when you lose your heart’s desire and one is when you gain it. But unless it ends six feet under the ground (with death) it is not really considered a tragedy.
If it were to be the case then we all are living lives fated to end in a tragedy of their own; the biggest one being the ability to gain one’s desire only for it to be your last pitfall. What you struggled with and fought for every breathing moment of your life razes your own breaths until you’re left with nothing but a life that ended too soon and the promise of the unknown eating up your soul.
People prefer comedies to tragedies but what people remember the most is the bittersweet taste left after a heartbreaking tale.
Not everyone remembers the drama but what people most remember is the connection sprinkled on some pages or in the gazes of those characters.
It is perhaps why, no matter how much the tragic heroes were hated, they were also loved. In the end what connects all the people is the the inevitable promise of death.
Perhaps that is why the earliest heroes were left stranded, stranded and with the certainty of a tragic fate. Because the hope that is inherent in the soul of a man always draws the same conclusion, “It’s not a tragedy if you’re still alive.”
It is why, eventually the Aristotelian hero dies a tragic death having fallen from great heights and having made an irreversible mistake.
Even more painful is a character that makes no mistake but still ends with a demise that shatters the heart. It is painful to watch because it connects the most with the reality of every day life.
In this world there is a life taken for every birth. Everything that begins with a tragedy ends with one too. That is why as this kaleidoscope of memories, (some dark some bright, some grey and dull, but most importantly fleeting) begun with the greatest tragedy ( a death) it is also fated to end with the same dark beauty of its beginning.
The same dark end.
The same demise.
The same death.
And the same face buried six feet underground.