One day as I was walking alone, I met a cynic besides the road. A little angry he was, but still responded to my greetings. As we chatted and discussed, he told me something I never thought:
The nature is not beautiful,
It is our inability to see the pain that makes it beautiful.
No one wants to live,
It is the thought of dying that makes us breathe.
Friendship is not required,
It is the feeling of being left alone that makes us friendly.
No one wants to be in love,
It is our desire of being loved that makes us seek love.
No one believes in god,
It is our inability to find our own paths that makes us theist.
I was puzzled. First I thought what a poor soul he was, but then, my inability to correct him made me think about who am I? A cynic, an optimist or a realist?
With these thoughts in my mind I proceeded further down that road. Sometime later, I met an optimist. A cup of joy he was, smiling at every passerby, and his smile indeed was contagious. Looking at my discomfort, he came to me and asked me the cause of my worry. I reiterated the whole incident I had with that cynic. He told me something I never realized:
The nature is obviously beautiful,
But it is our ability to smile that hides the pain within.
Yes, everyone wants to live,
But it is our perception of death that makes us value every breath.
Friendship of course is a necessity,
But it is our desire to share that makes it special.
Everyone always wants to fell in love,
But the thought that someone would be there to catch us when we fall, makes it desirable.
God, I don’t know what god is,
But if it is our imagination, then it is the best imagination by mankind.
As I left that optimist behind, I was smiling for sure. But my smile did not project my thoughts. I was feeling better, but still the question loomed, “who am I?”
As further ahead I went, I met someone with a smile on his face but surely, his eyes were sad. I greeted him as I did to the cynic and the optimist. But he returned my smile with a hug. He must have seen the doubt in my eyes. He was someone I could relate to. I told him, I am a realist like you.
In return he said something I had always experienced:
A child is born an optimist,
At some point, we all grow into a realist,
In the end, a cynic might not win,
But it all depends on the war within.
