True inspiration. I never thought a movie could impart that much. As cheesy as it sounds, as propaganda-filled as it may have been and as whatever-other-cynical-thought-you-can-come-up-with-to-dismiss-the-story, I think of no possible way to dismiss the years a person loses, the life that passes by, and the strength that one comes out with at the end of it.
Numerically, 27 years is a lot. But then there are so many other events and incidents that cannot be quantified. The people lost, conversations never had, celebrations with friends, and sunsets missed. We will probably never have to suffer the way Mandela did, 9,000 days in a tiny cell, and thankfully so. But how often do we stop and appreciate the moments we’re blessed with, to do good with our time, whatever good may be?
9,000 days later, he came out “ready to forgive the people who put him in.” Then I realized, there’s a reason why this man was one of my heroes when I was only 7. I didn’t know the extent of his strength and willpower then, and am grateful that I do now. And what better time than now to realize the time lost, the opportunities missed, and the silly mistakes spent on inconsequential worries.
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
And this, is true inspiration.