I was wandering around the streets of Delhi (more specifically, the outer circle of Connaught Place) when I came across this soul-crushing yet beautiful quote on a wall, which said, “In the end, we only regret the walls we did not tag.” And here’s a thought of mine, expanding on this.
A graffiti artist paints over and along random walls, pouring a fragment of their creativity and thoughtfulness in multiple blends of different colors. Occasionally, however, for personal, societal, or legal reasons, he/she might need to refrain from their creative zeal to express themselves and leave some walls ‘untouched.’ One among those walls might have truly justified their imaginative excellence, and yet they can’t do anything about it. Confining a thousand what-ifs, all they can do is have a final glance at the wall and turn away. Eventually ending up with a nasty thought, “I wish I had painted the wall before leaving”, evoking an even nastier subset of emotion called ‘regret.’
The same holds true in a profession I am interested in – scientific research. Scientists often have ideas and theories, which sometimes they can’t work on (reasons for which are not a concern here). When you read about the lives of some eminent scientists, you’ll find a common ‘unexecuted/unfinished’ factor. Einstein’s quest for a unified field theory, Tesla’s vision of wireless transmission of electrical energy, Hawking’s formulation of an equation to prove the beginning of the universe, Farber’s experiments to find an ultimate chemotherapeutic drug against all kinds of cancer, and more. Why could they not achieve that? Nobody knows. Do they have a ‘regret’ for that? Possibly yes (an incidental answer from their biographies and interviews). Was there something they could have done to not feel this way? Perhaps.
Adding on, is the phrase relevant to us or in our normal lives as humans? I say it does. The aspect that it can be related to is considerably a simple one – communication. As a very advanced social breed of the kingdom Animalia, we are bound to communicate, and often times, we regret the things we do not communicate (in time). We regret the words we did not say, the poems we did not recite, and the emotions we did not emote (in time). In a century where we are filled with innumerable means of communication (including the virtual ones), why are we hindered from saying what we actually intend to say? It’s dark and equally weird that, despite having so many chances, we choose not to say that one thing after having said 99 other useless things. Does that not make us, humans, in a way, lonely (the inability to communicate)?
Now what? The graffiti artist finds another wall to paint their hearts out on, scientists find a new mystery to unravel, and humans find other irrelevant things to talk about. Then, why such a regret? How much time will ‘time’ take to complete the incompleteness once induced by that one particular left-to-be-done/left-to-be-said thing?