What if you had only two years remaining to live? Not twenty years, not some uncertain horizon of tomorrows that stretches out into infinity, but a precisely defined, limited two years. Would you just keep on as you are presently—adrift in routine, embroiled in minutiae, repeatedly clicking through distractions? Or, by some miraculous epiphanic occurrence, find yourself reshaping every movement towards that which is most important—your greatest passions, your most loved relationships, the things long put off that you have always meant to do? This question, while uncomfortable, has within it something magnificent. It is no question of death, but of life.

Death, unpleasant as it is, has always been life’s sternest teacher. Lord Krishna tells Arjuna, in the Bhagavad Gita, that the soul is undying and indivisible, but that the body is transitory. To live intelligently, then, we have in our hands this paradox: that while the soul endures, life on earth is brief and precious. When we begin to consider the end—not some far-distant accident, but something possible just ahead—the priorities at once become different. The petty irritations that once plagued us loosen their grip, and what remain are things that are fundamental: love, benevolence, courage, and purpose.

Steve Jobs, in his most famous Stanford commencement speech, said that thinking of his own death was the most powerful force he had ever faced in life. “Remembering that I’ll be dead soon,” he said, “was the most valuable tool that I’ve ever learned how to make big decisions in life.” It was no gloomy reflection, but one that set him free. It eliminated fear of falling short and embarrassment by telling him that all external expectation and pride are transitory before death. That fact empowered him to do what was in his heart.

Visualize your life as a candle. You have no idea how vigorously the wind blows, nor how rapidly the flame will die. If someone told you that the candle would burn just another couple of years, you’d hold it tenderly, shield it from every breeze, and allow its light to shed warmly upon others. But most of us live our lives polishing the candlestick, while forgetting the flame itself. We occupy ourselves with looks, things, or status, and forget the fragile and luminous gift that life is.

This realization is nothing new to mankind. Yudhishthira was one day questioned what was the biggest wonder of the world. His answer was stinging: “People witness others dying daily, but they live as if they are themselves immortal.”We attend funerals, hear of unexpected losses, see how short life is everywhere, and yet we continue to put off our dreams, put off our loves. Thinking of one’s own death shatters this delusion and wakes one up to the moment.

Even modern tales reflect this very same reality. Randy Pausch, a professor with terminal cancer, made what became called “The Last Lecture.” He spoke neither of death, but of living. When he said, “Time is all you have. And you may find one day that you have less than you think,” he spoke to millions of hearts. When he had limited time ahead of him, he spent his final months creating memories with his children, chasing dreams with finality, and showing the world that knowledge of death makes life’s meaning more profound.

I once met a cancer survivor who told me something that has stayed with me: “I never truly saw the blue of the sky until I thought I might not live to see another sunrise.” The nearness of death sharpened her vision of life. Every morning sky, every simple conversation, every act of kindness became precious. Perhaps the greatest tragedy is that we often wait for crises to awaken us, when mortality is already whispering this truth every single day.

If you truly had only two years left, how differently would you live? You might spend more evenings with your family than with your emails. You might take that risk you have been avoiding—writing that book, starting that project, or speaking your truth. You would probably laugh louder, cry more openly, and hug more tightly. You would let go of grudges, forgive where you can, and say the words that should never be left unsaid: “I love you,” “I forgive you,” “I am proud of you.” In short, you would live not in fear of the end, but with the fullness of being alive.

Indian mystic poet Kabir once sang: “Kaal kare so aaj kar, aaj kare so ab, pal mein pralay hoyegi, bahuri karega kab?”—Do what you plan to do tomorrow, do it today; do what you plan to do today, do it now. The world may vanish in a moment, then when will you do it? These lines remind us that the clock always keeps ticking, and the right moment to live is never tomorrow—it is always today.

The Roman Stoic Marcus Aurelius echoed a similar sentiment centuries later when he wrote: “You could leave life right now. Let that determine what you do, say, and think.” His words were not meant to frighten, but to focus. Life’s brevity is not a curse; it is the very reason to live fully, deeply, and meaningfully.

If we learn to live with the consciousness of having only two years left, something extraordinary happens: life stops being ordinary. Every conversation becomes more genuine, every action more intentional, every day more valuable. We no longer postpone our happiness for a future that may not arrive. Instead, we recognize that the future is built out of the present moments we choose to live with awareness and purpose. The reality is, no one of us knows how long our candle will burn. But it is burning, this moment. The issue is no longer how much time have we got left—it is how do we want to spend the time that we already have within the palms of our hands? We let it slip through the fingers with minutiae, or do we live so vigorously that even two years would be like a life completed? 

As you consider yourself tonight, ask: if I had just two years, how would I do things differently? And then, tomorrow morning, do something small that moves yourself closer to that vision. Because ultimately, life is not going to wait. And neither should you.

Dr. Prahlada N.B
MBBS (JJMMC), MS (PGIMER, Chandigarh). 
MBA in Healthcare & Hospital Management (BITS, Pilani), 
Postgraduate Certificate in Technology Leadership and Innovation (MIT, USA)
Executive Programme in Strategic Management (IIM, Lucknow)
Senior Management Programme in Healthcare Management (IIM, Kozhikode)
Advanced Certificate in AI for Digital Health and Imaging Program (IISc, Bengaluru). 

Senior Professor and former Head, 
Department of ENT-Head & Neck Surgery, Skull Base Surgery, Cochlear Implant Surgery. 
Basaveshwara Medical College & Hospital, Chitradurga, Karnataka, India. 

My Vision: I don’t want to be a genius.  I want to be a person with a bundle of experience. 

My Mission: Help others achieve their life’s objectives in my presence or absence!

My Values:  Creating value for others. 

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