The Little Prince: Simple are the Things Valuable

Years of immersing myself in reading has led me on many an adventure. Whether it be a journey to exotic lands or an odyssey to the spiritual depths of mind, to dive into these oceans of ink bounded by paper has always been the greatest pleasure, I believe, that our ancestors have bestowed upon us. However, to dare say a book to have transpired me to mature, not only by age, but also in mind, few have done so on such a complete scale when comparing with The Little Prince, and it is why, to this day, I still revere it as how I truly began my wanders into the realm of adulthood. One can interpret the book The Little Prince in countless ways, but it can also be concluded into one simple word―life. Vague as it may seem, The Little Prince gives readers a take into the many absurdities we face growing up. Craftily hiding abstruse philosophy behind the experience of the characters in the book, us, the readers, get a chance to see through the eyes of the author, one more learned in the ways of life.

Pondering the intricate yarns of life, both of those around me and of my own, the notion of being someone to somebody has always struck me as a weight, a destiny perhaps, upon my shoulders. As a mere transient, of no more importance than a speck of dust, within the galaxy, how are we to complete the puzzles of so many others in the short period of time we are allowed? Endowed with the gift of compassion, like the little prince, we have the choice to form ties with others, to tame, to study, and in the end, try to understand them. We are far too shy to show our feelings, those true ones we bury deep under faked laughter and even faker encouragement. Shackled are we, to the improvised cheerfulness of a barren land void of happiness, the nature and laws of it grieves me deeply.

Straight ahead of him, nobody can go very far. Life itself was never meant to be a broad highway of smooth sailings. Rather, it is a trail, full of twists and turns, with numerous hardships lurking in every shadow. What little comfort we do have comes from the every so often when the path of ours’ crosses with that of another’s. To be able to communicate, soul to soul, with those we encounter, the courage to take off the masks we wear is of the necessity. Only then can we form the link between person and person, to fulfill the reason that one appears in another’s life, even if it were only for a split second in the other’s life span, that would be enough. Then, in the end, to be able to set free those we cherish, to let them meander back into the mists of uncertainty on the tails of their dreams, to complete the saga of another’s journey, and sigh with, not remorse, but with gratitude and of vivid memories, that, is the true meaning of caring for someone.

Out there, every soul is waging a war of his own. The little prince, caring for his rose; the fox, longing for company; the pilot, hoping for news of the little prince; the rose, too slow at showing her love. So tender, tender, towards every lonely soul accompanied by his lone shadow, even if the shells of despair do not rain down upon you. Strive to become that important someone to another, as the abstract meaning of life, that philosophy we endeavor so hard to come by, exists in the simple idea of showing our true selves, to become something more than that speck of dust. How are we supposed to brave the storm raging down on our castle of solitude, if we hesitate to show our feelings, hiding behind tall battlements of faked emotions? So, exile yourself to the emotional wilderness, allow yourself a chance to escape the monotonous world of black and white, because in the twilight zone, in an array of grayness, you shall one day return, imperfect, but whole again.