What is boredom? Are you never bored with life?
It is one of the most significant questions to be asked, because it is only man’s privilege to be bored. No other animal has the capacity. Why has man the capacity to be bored? It is a by-product of intelligence. Nothing is wrong about it. Only idiots are not bored – or the enlightened ones, but they are few and far between. The major part of humanity between these two poles of idiots and the enlightened ones feels more or less bored.
Boredom means that you are intelligent enough to see that life is meaningless, that it is just futile to go on living: nothing comes out of it. Life is an effort to make your signature on water – not even on sand, because on sand it may remain for a while before the wind comes and destroys it. It is writing on water, and it disappears as it appears – immediately, instantly – and nothing is left behind, not even smoke.
How many millions of people have lived on the earth? What have they left behind? They were also people like you. They were doing everything that you are doing, thinking all kinds of thoughts, dreams, ideals. And they made every effort to be creative, to be fulfilled, to be contented. But what is left? Whether they had been or not makes no difference. If there had been not a single human being before us it would not make any difference. What difference are you going to make? And if you cannot make any difference then your life is uncreative.
Creativity means making a difference by your being here, leaving the earth not exactly the same as you had found it; your imprints will always remain there. You may be gone, but what you have created will go on influencing generations after generations.
Every man who has ever lived has thought about his life: What does it signify? Is it just vegetating? No animal is bored because no animal is bothered about meaning, no animal is concerned about creativity. A buffalo chewing grass is as contented as any Gautam the Buddha. She is not aware of her contentment – that is the difference. But she is perfectly contented: no tomorrow, no yesterday, no problems. Just watch a buffalo chewing grass and you can see the difference between man and animals….
A man may be sitting on a golden throne – that does not make any difference – or he may be a beggar, but they both are immensely concerned about why they are here, for what? Is it just accidental, or is there some destiny to it? This question remains unanswered, hence the boredom. You cannot find contentment, blissfulness or meaning in anything. You see every day passing by and you know that death is coming closer, closer, closer, and life is not yielding anything. Your hands are empty.