To Live a Life

The Death of Ivan Ilyich is a well-known novella by Leo Tolstoy, the Russian author. It is a short book that can be read in a day. As the title suggests, a person named Ivan Ilyich dies. The book begins with news of the death reaching Ivan’s friends. Ivan is a lawyer, and so, most of his friends are. Their first concern is getting a promotion to Ivan’s position. Their second concern is taking the trouble to visit Ivan’s mourning wife because it is propriety.

Ivan’s wife is no better. She is only worried about the pensions and funds she may get after Ivan’s demise. Ivan’s children have a lukewarm response, and we come to know that his family and friends don’t care about him.

His relationships were weak and futile. Moving on, we come to know more about his life, and as each page turns into the next, it becomes clearer. Ivan lived a miserable life. Yes, he had wealth, cars, a good job, a good family and great friends. He was supposed to be living a stable simple life.

In his ecstatic state of spending all his wealth on a good house with decorated interiors and best-in-class furniture, he falls ill. The pain in his body soars day by day, and the doctors fail to diagnose the ailment. He is a living time bomb, waiting to die any minute. Death follows him everywhere, from the office to the club; death is always lingering over him. The medications fail and he quickly becomes bedridden. The pain is so much that he can’t speak or move, turns dependent on his wife and servant. As death becomes apparent and the veils of life start to cease, he comes face-to-face with reality: he lived a miserable life!

He became a lawyer, not because he wanted to, but because his parents wanted to. He bought a house and a car not because he needed them, but because he had to display his social status. He married not for love, but for social conformity. He lived not for himself, but for the world. He was promised happiness in return for conformity, what he gets is sham. He was told to become a lawyer, get a house, buy a car and marry a wealthy girl so that he would become happy. But in the end, he is left alone in his bed—tired and paralyzed—without happiness.

Ivan screams all day and night. That is the only thing he can do! In his half-dead state, Ivan keeps screaming. It is the only thing he did by choice. He wanted his family to know that he was an individual, not a puppet. The only thing his body now allows him to do is screaming. For three days, Ivan’s screams were heard miles away from his bed. The screams stopped when Ivan died. Leaving behind a house and money for his family and friends, who also are puppets.

The thing with puppets is that they don’t have a life. A puppet can never raise its voice and express dissent. It must move to the master’s will. But humans have a voice and consciousness. They are aware and questioning. For most of us, we don’t question our puppetry. By the time we hear our voice, we are already dead.

Ivan Ilyich died to illustrate that we, as humans, are much more than puppets. Social roles demand a lot from us, but they are not us. Conformity and obedience promise fulfillment, but leave us in vain. There is no point in living for the world, but we still end up doing so. And in the process, we lose ourselves.

Ivan’s family and friends were indifferent to him. Because he formed these relations for the sake of conformity. He did not like his friends or love his wife, rather he was with them for decorum. He wanted people to see his influential circle. But, that circle was not truly his. Those relations were shallow and left him in a state of loneliness. When he was battling death, he was left on his own. Even after having many friends, he was without support.

When our relationships are based on social norms rather than meaning, they turn toxic with time. In times of dire need, we realize that all the relations we have are artificial. This realization adds to the regret of an already wasted life. A life that did not seek its purpose and the relations formed along the way turn out to be pointless!

Forming true relations, doing what we think is important and being kind as a human, gives meaning to our lives. Many a man, in search of meaning, destroyed their lives, only to realize that life itself was meaningful. Meaning is not bestowed by society, it is carved by our own selves, our own ideas, our own deeds.

(The author is a student of Humanities at DPS Srinagar)