Following is an excerpt from a forward email I got a few days back. Below this is my view on the same.
We live surrounded by our alternates, what we could have been.
Oh, if I only had that last number right (just one and I'd hit the lotto), accepted that job, finished that course, got there earlier, got there later, said yes, said no, went to London, married Dora, taken that test…
Right now in this Imaginary bar where I drink to forget what I've never done (the bar is actually called "Imaginary") sat a guy by my rigt side and introduced himself:
"I am you, had you taken that test at the soccer team"
He really has my age and looks. The same grimace.
Why is that? Wasn't your life better than mine?
"For a while. I played the major league. Got to the national squad. Major deal. Lived the big life. Until one day..."
"I know, I know..." Said someone sat beside him.
We both stared our interloper. Had our age and looks and not a bit happier. He went on:
"You hesitated. Should I stay in net or charge the attacker? You stayed, got scored on and fell in disgrace. Dropped soccer and became a mediocre advertiser"
"How do you know that?"
"I charged. Not only catched the ball but sprinted to the attack with such perfection that we scored the victory goal. Was seen as the hero of the game. At the next game, I hesitated between throwing myself at the feet of an attacker or not. As a hero, I threw me... Took a kick in the head. Couldn't be anything else in life. Not even an advertiser. I earn a few coins from social security, and all I do is drink and complain about life. If I only haven't threw myself at his feet..."
"...he would have missed the goal", another of our doubles spoke. It would have made no difference. My career went on. I became ever more famous, now with a lucky fame also. Was sold to an european team, for a king's ransom. The first brazilian goalkeeper to ever play in europe. There was a party at the airport in Rio..."
"So? What happened? We asked in unison.
"Remember that plane from Rio to Paris that crashed in the sea?"
"Dead at 28."
"Now that you say, I notice you're quite pale."
"Thinking further, it was better not taking that test at the soccer team..."
"And getting kicked in the head..."
"Better it would've been joining the public service. Had I been chosen..."
"You must be kidding", said someone to my left. My face, but older and desolate.
"And you, who are?"
"I joined the public service."
I saw that every stool left of me was taken by public service versions of me, one more disheartened than the other. The consequences of years of bad decisions, failed alliances, little treasons, denied promotions and frustration. I looked around. I filled the whole bar. Every stool and table occupied by my alternates and none seem happy. I remarked to the bartender that, at the end, the better-looking there was me. The bartender nodded, sadly. Only then I noticed that he too had my face, only more wrinkled.
"Who are you", I inquired.
"I am the one who married Dora."
He didn't answer. Only made a signal, thumbs down...
My Take On The Same
So, what do you think? Did you get the morale of the story? Give a second read if you feel that everything is not clear. The beauty of it will soon be visible.
When I finished reading the above excerpt, I was left "enthralled". It confirms the kind of answer I give to myself whenever I am in qualms...
So what do you say?
Do you regret some past decisions? Or you are completely happy with what you have got today? Or it's a mix?
I would like to hear your views in the comments below! :)
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