It's a simple question with a multitude of possible answers. Everyone defines and believes in fate in their own way, with each person's unique belief likely being shaped by their personal journeys through life.
Arjun was a family set up. Someone in my (massively extended, including people who are not even related to me) family knew someone in his. And so, the email exchanges began.
We had exchanged a few heated emails that were already starting to bother me. After asking me where I had worked, I explained that I had just quit my job at one of the top consumer goods companies and that I was in transition. He quickly jumped on the "I hate corporations, especially the one you worked for" bandwagon. Arjun had a few friends who had worked for the same corporation, who he (apparently) had observed them getting brainwashed. All the company cared about was profits, his friends complained. 'The company thinks they are God', his friends continued.
Wait a minute. How many companies don't end up brainwashing their employees? How many companies don't insist on making money? Seriously, Arjun? That is your argument for hating where I used to work?
It may seem like a small thing, but ten (10!!) emails were exchanged on the subject. I tried to explain that most corporations were similar, that it wasn't so bad in my office (his friends were at a global office, so maybe it was worse there), and I even tried to back down and 'agree to disagree'. He wouldn't have any of it.
What does this have to do with fate? Well, in about the 9th email, I managed to expand the conversation beyond nasty corporations and ask him if he believed in fate.
"Do I believe in fate. Yes I do. Every action affects the next. Behind each door could be an axe waiting to split your skull or a suitcase full of $1000 bills."
What he didn't see is that behind the next door, (after his 10th email insisting that I worked for the most arrogant and ridiculous company in the world), there I stood, at my computer, pressing the delete key and ridding my inbox of his emails, and my life of him (and his skull-splitting-axes).
Sigh...next!
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