All human beings are like matchsticks. Lined up in the womb you wait for the day, when you slither through the anatomy of your mother into the world and take up a unique role in the crowd. Much like a stick lined up inside the box waiting for its turn. Fundamentally there isn’t much difference between an unborn baby and an idle stick. It’s when you come out, your worth is proved. Some foetuses have congenital malformation, but so do matchsticks. Some don’t have a head and others are too thin to be struck against. Keeping these exceptions aside, I think most of them would be indistinguishable from each other.All of us come to this world with a purpose. But you may ask, what purpose? Who decides why we came to the world? The purpose comes blank along with our life that we fill it up with our deeds and give a meaning to our existence in the world.
There are people who probably live just because they can’t die. Of course, there will always be some who kill themselves. The insane lot. But killing oneself isn’t easy. It takes extreme desire and overwhelming emotions. Leaving the suicidal souls, many live because dying is not an option.
Some matchsticks don’t light. Even after repeated strikes. They refuse to entertain their purpose. They come out of their womb, but their birth is futile. They live an unfulfilled life, because a matchstick truly lives when it burns. Only when fire eats it away does it have a meaningful existence.
Some others burn, but they don’t light up anything. You hold them to a candle, but they go out before even before the spark grows into a flame. They die before doing anything of worth. They leave their entire length with you, but that body is useless. Once a head burns and puts out, it doesn’t get to burn again. It doesn’t serve any purpose again. There is no second chance.
Finally, matchsticks that last and light others, such as a candle or an incense stick, live with a purpose. Some light just one, and others light several before putting out. The later ones live a life of contentment, of supreme purpose. They serve that purpose until their entire body is devoured by fire. They live life to the fullest.
We all have been struck upon. And we are burning. How much can we light up before we put out? How many good deeds? What can we do that stands out of the crowd? Have we thought about our purpose? How do we live our purpose till our entire length burns out?