In the Tiger's Eyes

I remember how the eponymous lad in Life of Pi wailed inconsolably when he was finally found along the Mexican shore by people—members of his own species, he said—after a long ordeal and a struggle to survive with a Bengal tiger, which like him, had survived a shipwreck. He was wailing, much to the confusion of the people who were saving him, because his heart broke when the tiger left him--so unceremoniously.

This tiger, for whom he has learned to feel responsible and by whom he felt valued and needed, jumped out of the boat, all thin and famished, and walked on towards the forest without looking back. It just walked, literally, out of his life. So unceremoniously.

Time and time again, we are Pi, calling out and wailing for the tiger that left so unceremoniously, it broke our heart. I’ve been realizing how it is truly a miracle to find people who value us, when, as it happens sometimes, a moment so clear comes when we realize our insignificance in certain relationships we value. The moment would be so clear that the epiphany would almost seem like a betrayal. How could we have been missing it until now? How could we not have seen how little we mattered?

Pi’s father is right: we see in the tiger’s eyes only our own emotions reflected back to us.

But those emotions were ours. And despite them inadvertently hurting us in the end, looking straight on couldn't be a mistake.

So, we allow ourselves to be saved by the epiphany, we grieve for the tiger who left so unceremoniously and perhaps, when we are healed, we will try again.