“For man to be able to live he must either not see the infinite or have such an explanation of the meaning of life as will connect the finite with the infinite.”
Jigneshbhai was reading from Leo Tolstoy’s ‘A Confession and other religious writings’.
“Tolstoy went on an exploration of the meaning of life when he lost a sense of purpose,” Jigneshbhai explained.
Swami and I were busy finding meaning in the iced caffe mocha with whipped cream when he woke us up from our slumber. The double chocolate muffin provided us with enough sense of purpose for the moment.
But Jigneshbhai was engaged in finding meaning in Tolstoy.
“Today or tomorrow sickness and death will come to those I love or to me. Is there any meaning in my life that the inevitable death awaiting me does not destroy?”
Jigneshbhai read from notes that he had taken from the book.
Meanwhile, for Swami and me, the way we were latching on to the third double chocolate muffin, it looked like sickness and death would come sooner rather than later.
We had finished Jigneshbhai’s muffins while he was reading about the meaning and purpose of life.
“But the most interesting part of this exploration is his conclusion that normal working people understand the meaning of life better,” Jigneshbhai said with excitement, oblivious to our being engrossed in other mundane, meaningful things.
He continued reading from his notes.
“The reasoning showing the vanity of life is not so difficult and has long been familiar to the very simplest folk; yet they have lived and still live. How is it they all live and never think of doubting the reasonableness of life?”
Swami and I had finished by now and Swami was now ready to participate.
With the last bite of the double chocolate muffin still in his mouth, Swami said, “So he is saying that we know life is meaningless, but we still keep eating the muffin. And he is asking how can we do that?”
Philosophy and food got a bit mixed up, I thought, but Jigneshbhai thought Swami was up to something.
“You are absolutely right. That is the question.” Jigneshbhai said in delight. His face lit up.
I knew Swami was intelligent, but I didn’t know he was paying attention to the notes of Jigneshbhai.
Deja barked softly. We looked at Swami to check if he said anything.
“He said he is proud that I was his student in a past life,” Swami said. So, even the spiritual dog had acknowledged Swami’s intelligence with his stamp of authority.
“In fact Tolstoy further says that the normal working-class people are not so stupid as we suppose.” Jigneshbhai was still caught up in his notes.
Jigneshbhai had this amazing intellect that let him stay engrossed in a topic that interested him for hours together. On the contrary, Swami was impatient and found it difficult to focus on one topic for long.
“He goes on to say that these regular working people have found meaning in life.”
Jigneshbhai was still engrossed in his notes and read on from them. Swami and I continued finding our meaning elsewhere. By now, we had had enough of this meaning and purpose stuff. But when Jigneshbhai is in a flow, it is tough to stop him. In any case, most of what he said was meaningless to us.
“Rational knowledge presented by the learned and wise, denies the meaning of life, but the enormous masses of men, the whole of mankind receive that meaning in irrational knowledge. And that irrational knowledge is faith.”
“Isn’t it amazing?” Jigneshbhai grinned with the glee of a child who had discovered a new toy.
I was trying to understand what Jigneshbhai was so excited about and was about to ask him repeat that when Swami suddenly spoke.
“Faith it is that gives purpose and meaning. Faith gives to the finite meaningless existence of man an infinite meaning, a meaning not destroyed by sufferings, deprivations, or death. Live with faith, work with faith and you will find meaning,” Swami said aloud.
Both me and Jigneshbhai looked at Swami stunned by his spurt of wise words wondering where it came from. Swami himself looked absolutely nonplussed with what he had said.
“Deja said this just now, it was not me,” Swami clarified pointing at the dog. Jigneshbhai and I had missed Deja’s barking. No wonder. Swami wasn’t responsible for all this spiritual jargon and jugglery. It was Deja.
We looked at Deja and saw him wagging his tail in joy.
“What Tolstoy concluded painstakingly, Deja already knows,” Jigneshbhai said, leaving Swami beaming with pride.
Jigneshbhai quickly ordered a sweet bun for Deja.
With a faithful serving of double chocolate muffin that Swami reordered for Jigneshbhai, all of us found meaning in our meaninglessness.
***