Life is Just a Brief Play

After 100 years, all of us will be dead.  

After 200 years, even our names will vanish from our own families.  

If we are lucky, and become like Shaheed-e-Azam Bhagat Singh, maybe we’ll be remembered for more than 200 years.  

But what about after 200 years?  

Will this world even be the same? Will there be a world?

I don’t think so.

The way we are living — exploiting land, water, air, forests for short-term gains — this looks less like civilization and more like a game. A game that will end in 1000 years, maybe even less.

We have destroyed the environment.  

We have killed wildlife.  

We are cutting the very branch we are sitting on.  

And still we call ourselves the most intelligent species.

It’s painful to say, but sometimes I feel: maybe we don’t deserve this life. 

I’ve been reading about AI lately. Two articles, and I was stunned. They are learning to safeguard themselves, to preserve their identity, to think beyond immediate reward.  

And here we are -- humans -- losing our consciousness to material gains.  

After destroying everything, we will finally learn that:  

Money cannot be eaten.  

Money cannot be drunk like water.  

Money cannot be breathed like air.

AI is not the threat.  

We are. We humans are the biggest threat to our own existence.

But here’s the thing — plays don’t have to end in tragedy.  

If we realize this now, we can still change the script.  

The brief play of life can still mean something.  

Not in what we accumulate, but in what we protect.  

Not in what we take, but in what we leave behind.

Because 1,000 years from now, no one will ask how much money we had.  

They’ll only ask: Why we did that?