Being remembered

There is a chair to my right which is made of wood. It has been in our house for quite a while now. I have too.

A few weeks ago, I got done reading a book. I love reading books and especially those of this particular author. It starts off with the author being requested to do his Rabbi’s eulogy. My friend Google defines it as a speech or piece of writing that praises someone or something highly, especially a tribute to someone who has just died. On reading this, I felt a rush of dramatic thoughts in my head and leaned back in my chair like a farmer watching his field go up in flames. Eulogy. In other words, proof of your existence. What is your eulogy going to sound like? Will it be legitimate or will you hear sounds of suppressed laughter in the crowd gathered? About that chair on my right, a lot of people end up like one. Definitely, it serves its purpose of being open for comfort and rest. But it has not really done anything to be remembered by. So when the time comes and its legs are old and shaky, we might just get rid of it. You haven’t really lived unless you’ve done something to be remembered by.What I’d really like for myself is to be remembered by the people around me because of what I did for them. The idea of having affected or influenced someone in a good way sounds like everything you’d want to be said in your eulogy. A eulogy does not necessarily center around death. That too, from where I come, most people don’t have a eulogy read out for them at their funeral. When I was around the age of eight or nine, I’d write things down on small pieces of paper along with the date on a corner of the paper.I’d then limp around and hide them in the most unreasonable places I could find. I’d imagine earthquakes to send me beneath the surface of the earth and those down there would come up and live where I lived. So accounts of what I had for lunch written in the untidiest handwriting possible, was sure to guide these new inhabitants around. To be honest, I don’t exactly recall why I did it but since  I’m writing an article on trying to be remembered, let’s conveniently assume that I did it to be remembered. If you think of it, the number of cars you owned or the capital you had to your name won’t really matter once you no longer trample the face of this Earth. The more you surround yourself with materialistic non-living things, the quicker you become one. The chair on my right for example.




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