Vain shadow

By Seoh Bong-seong

In mid-December last year, Rhee called his old friend, Park, many times but couldn't reach him. Finally, he got in contact with Park's son on the phone, who said that his father had passed away. In mid-November, he had complained of discomfort in his throat when speaking and eating. After tests at the hospital, a doctor diagnosed him with terminal lung cancer, to which he succumbed after about one month in the hospital.

Park had been a schoolmate. They met in the school library following Rhee's discharge from the military, when he was a junior. They ended up being boarding house roommates for nearly two years.

One night, about a month before they were to graduate, they were studying for a corporate recruitment exam, when both young men were overcome by smoke given off by charcoal briquettes. But one of Park's friends dreamed of screaming and pleas for help, and hurried to the boarding house at daybreak. He found the two unconscious, only just breathing. Thanks to him, they were saved although they had been on the verge of death.

Park and Rhee were hired by the nation’s standard bearer Korean Air. After working there for 10 years, Park moved to a newly established airline, and was eventually promoted to become the regional manager of the carrier in Beijing. A few years later, he quit and started a small travel agency. Rhee also quit his job and headed off to China to study its language and literature in order to become a professor.

Rhee had always found Park to be healthy, humorous, and sincere, and so he was shocked to hear of his death. He was out of sorts for the rest of the day. Park had always welcomed him when he went to Seoul with ginseng-chicken soup or draft beer.

But, as people often do, he had fallen into a trap of chasing money and honor. He was promoted to the position of director and had made more money than his colleagues. The real problems began, though, when he opened the travel agency. Running the business caused him a great amount of stress. In addition to that, he had lost a massive sum of money last year on bad stock investments.

A few months ago, a woman who owned stores that sold well-known brands was showering after a workout in a nearby park when she fell and ended up dying from a cerebral hemorrhage. Her husband discovered her body upon his return home. The doctor said, ``If she had been found two hours earlier, she could have been saved... how pitiful that she couldn't enjoy her fortune."

One day in February of this year, Professor Han sat down on the steps of a meeting room and vomited. He couldn't walk, so a few of his colleagues carried him to a hospital, where he soon passed away. The doctor said it was from heart failure. He still had several years of his professorship left. He had been a very active man who devoted himself to helping others both at school and in other aspects of his life. He climbed Mt. Halla 50 times last year and he arose early every morning to go to the gym; in fact, his focus on health may have contributed to his death.

At school, when the funeral had finished and the hearse began to move, Professor Kim, who was standing close to me, murmured, ``From now on, I'll let everything around me be, without getting too worked up about it." He followed the hearse to the crematory and saw the urn filled with his colleague's ashes. While there, he had four glasses of soju (Korean vodka), but didn't feel the effects of the alcohol at all. The ashes were buried in a small area of Han's farmland, and that was it.

In all but exceptional cases, humans never live past more than a hundred years. How much pleasure and happiness is there during one lifetime? Does life come like the wind and disappear without a sound like smoke?

In China, during the Ching Dynasty, Emperor Qianrong traveled to the south of the country. When he saw numerous types of ships hurrying back and forth in the canal, he asked his secretary why they were so busy. The man answered, ``For honor and profit, your majesty."

In the dizzy bustle of modern life, there are many people who continuously chase after money and honor, only to leave this small world unexpectedly having chased their dreams in vain. Nobody knows when their final day will come. What is the best way of making our lives fruitful, respectable, and unforgettable? Is the shadow of a man standing in bright sunshine the real man, or is the man a real shadow?

The writer is professor at the Department of Chinese Language and Culture in Jeju International University. His email address is benseoh@naver.com.