Who will remember you?

Fallen in the field of battle,
The old soldier said -
Who will remember me?
Who will remember me?

Indeed, some of us live to be remembered by the future generations, to be gawked at, made fun at, or to be idolized or idealized. All our endeavors bear no meaning if they are not saved for posterity. Still how does that give any meaning in the long term with extra long emphasis on long. Maybe, spanning from now to the end of time itself.

The end of time is a welcome concept. I wish I knew when everything is going to end for good. It might be handy to be prepared with a specific date and time at hand, rather than expecting salvation at the beginning of every random day, wondering if judgment has arrived in the form of the anti Christ or the Kalki.

It is interesting that both Hinduism and Christianity have their doomsday Gods yet to be unleashed. Seems like a nice bluff to keep an errant population under control through the systematic application of fear. Fear is always an effective, if crude method of keeping human subjects' behaviour within acceptable control limits.

A regime of fear might be resented and resented to such extent that rebellion might erupt, engulf and topple the very regime, if it's not nipped at the bud. A regime of complete fear based on mind control should be easy to administer from the point of view of the rulers. Riddick might become such a Necromanga emperor who walks in the misty shrouds of fear.

Fear is powerful. So is anger. Both can blind men long enough for irreversible mistakes to have been set into motion. A little untimely cough can trigger an avalanche, and in these days of global warming it might not be entirely false to say that entire populations might be wiped out by a tear misplaced.

A distinction needs to be made between pure animal fear and the fear of the future. Or are both the same? The fear of the future drives us on to accomplish many things as our destinies unfold. This fear is baseless if we are going to be no more than dust and water at the end of the road.

What if, we do have the spiritual bit entrenched in our bodies. A little bit of soul which migrates from bodies and worlds and uses this animal husk as a motel. That would be interesting. My only wish in such a case, is that my soul will remember my life in this shell, lest it encounters similar situations down the lane, where no live eye has gazed upon.