Through the Unknown

A mystery can be something unknown or misunderstood, most of the time unwillingly but sometimes willingly. It can differ from person to person, what’s known to another person can be a mystery to me.



I think with time life has become a bit underwhelming regarding the mysteries. There is no harm in it, the more we know the better understanding we gain of the things around, but the sad part for someone like me is that the stories die.



I remember this story about a region covered by jungle, it was unexplored, there were several stories associated with why it was not a good idea to go there and what all had happened there in the past or would happen if someone did venture out there. The hub of all these stories was the nearest village to the region. Then one day a group of explorers went to the unexplored region and it became explored and everything was out in the clear and most of the stories faded. Some people were not happy about it, especially the old villagers who had spent their lives believing in those stories.



So, human curiosity is what brings the end to the mysterious. In the present most of what person to person may be called mystery is just an AI search away. I do it all the time like recently I was talking to a gentleman planning to start an office of his known and he was surprised by the higher RAM prices than before, I was clueless about it too and while he attended to a brief call I did a brief search, and that’s how the mystery of the increasing RAM prices was revealed to us.



Well, I know there is a lot unanswered out there, the biggest mystery being what’s giving life to the very body in which we are in this present moment. No, there is no clear answer, I searched just now again thinking just ‘maybe’. I don’t think I possess the skill or the understanding to crack this one, but I would certainly be quite disappointed to leave this world without knowing what’s behind that mystery.



On the lighter side there is one mystery I will never be able to solve because the time is past and the people have parted.



When I was small, I had a group of friends, with whom I would play in the evenings on weekdays and sometimes during the day on Sundays. The life in the apartment society was one of the most memorable parts of my life.



Then there was Somansh, a boy around our age, he would just come and not come, just like that. We didn’t see him around every day, but he would come out to play in a few evenings and then stop coming for no one knew how long. We knew he lived in one of the apartments, we knew the building but not the apartment. He never invited us and we never saw his parents.



Somansh claimed he was not of this world at all and that in the apartment he lived, was present a gateway to his actual world. We didn’t find it as funny as we probably should have because the imagination got the best of us and it was more fun believing his story.



So, he came and went, and we never knew which evenings he would come and which ones he would not. He remained a mystery, the only problem to that mystery was that when I shifted away from the apartment with my parents, I never got to say goodbye to Somansh, after all how could I have reached his world to do so, right?

Written by Anuran Chatterji

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