May hosts of angels sing you to sleep

It may come early, and it may come late, but death – at some point – will come. 

This is the most universal, most fundamental reality of being human. Not only are our biological bodies doomed to age and die, but we are also cursed with the awareness of impending annihilation, of the ticking clock that takes us closer and closer to death. 

Death is a reality of course not just for humans, but for all living things. Nevertheless, I limit my thoughts here to people, because grasping at how non-human animals deal with pangs of mortality is beyond my scope. 

People, on the other hand, spend their lives grappling with the finitude of life – figuring out how to best utilise the little time that is on our hands, or how to emotionally, philosophically, spiritually prepare for the inevitable end. 

If your name is Jeff Bezos though, and you have billions to burn, you invest in trying to cheat death. Perhaps the Bezos-backed start-up Altos Labs – its impressive roster of scientists boasting a Nobel prize winner – will come up with some revolutionary results on the way to researching how to stop aging. 

Maybe all those pesky terminal illnesses like cancer will be banished for good and put inside a museum. Maybe biotech will help us regrow damaged body parts, or eliminate dementia. 

These potential gains in medical knowledge may just add to the wellbeing of humanity while enabling the stakeholders to laugh their way to the bank. If you're selling something that can halt the ravages of age, real or imagined, no doubt the public will buy. 

I don't for a second believe that Bezos, or any other overambitious Silicon Valley mogul pouring money into anti-ageing research for that matter, will crack the code and "cheat death."

I don't even believe that Bezos himself believes such a thing, but we all have our ways of saying "not today" to the Grim Reaper, to keep up the fight, to not go gentle into that good night. 

You and I have our vitamins and exercise regimens, Bezos has a three-billion-dollar startup bravely staring and screaming into the abyss. 

But let us, for a moment, put aside the impossibility of actually cheating death, and pose a question: If you heard that it could be done, that some people, maybe not you and me, but the chosen ones, the string-pullers, the prime movers, the billionaires and the heads of state and the Kardashians, could, buy immortality, how would you feel about it all? Would you be happy for them, or would it fill you with the worst kind of dread? 

Not only are our biological bodies doomed to age and die, but we are also cursed with the awareness of impending annihilation. Photo: Collected

I have asked myself this question, and to be honest, I do not have an answer. I have no idea how I would respond to such destruction of the most foundational tenet of life. 

I guess that I would collapse under the weight of such existential horror, like everything else that I know and believe and take for granted comes unglued and flies off into space with no up or down. 

So do I want Bezos and other immortality-seekers to succeed? The answer is no. If offered an immortality potion, would I take it? Again, there is no way of knowing for sure, and I am glad that this is not a likely scenario, but again, the answer would probably be: "No, I do not want to live forever."

As I get older, as I see my parents age, I find myself thinking more and more about mortality. Covid-death statistics are through the roof, and we have all been forced to confront the truth that anybody at any moment could be taken away. 

This is a tough pill to swallow, but swallowing it is only human. While I want quality time with my aging parents and loved ones for as long as possible, I do not wish for them to be alive forever, indefinitely. 

Nor do I wish this for me. In the same way that a book needs an ending and a painting needs a frame, our lives are bookended by birth and death, and to trudge along eternally with no sense of time running out, no urgency, for the years, decades, centuries to melt into one another until all memories become meaningless – that seems to be a more terrifying notion than death because immortality would destroy all the beauty, the poetry, the magic, the meaning itself of being alive. 

Let the younger ones come along, honour our memory, but also learn from our mistakes, wash away the muck, and do things anew. We do not need to be around forever. Looking around at the world right now – a world full of senior citizens in positions of authority and decision-making wreaking havoc, starting wars, clinging to power with no intention of leaving, a world which they no longer understand but desperately still try to control – I for one feel relieved that these seniors will at least have to shuffle off their mortal coil when their allotted time on Earth is up. 

Abak Hussain is a journalist.  

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions and views of The Business Standard.