The Train of Uncertainty

Imagine there is a train coming… You have a ticket, but it doesn’t define which coach you have to board. What if the coach that stops in front of you is the only one you can enter? You have no control, no data to comprehend which coach will be there. You don’t know how your journey will unfold. There is this damn uncertainty.

There is no electricity at the railway station. It looks like you come from a humble town. What will you do? Will you stand there and wait for the train to come? Will you gamble your time boarding this train, heading somewhere unknown? You anticipate a destination, and everyone else seems calm about it—just as we always are. But what about the journey? The companions you will meet, the environment, the conversations, your safety? It’s a long journey. And the important part? You love traveling by train.

Will you stand there, waiting in the dark—not so dark, under the moonlight—for a train that dictates your journey and destination? What kind of coach will you anticipate? One full of nasty people, harassing others, congested and unfriendly, suffocating you, snatching away the basic harmony of life you had at home? Or will you imagine a coach filled with warmth—soft lights, laughter, friendliness, shared food, new connections, stories to bond over, hopes to dream on, gossips of the world to share?

Or will you walk back home—the familiar, cozy one? The one that takes you nowhere but offers peace, comfort, and predictability? But as time passes, will the thought of missed experiences bother you? The opportunity to see the other side of the world, to learn something beyond? Most of us will choose to go.

But the turmoil I want to ponder over is—why do we so often anticipate the gloomy coach? I do. I don’t know about others. Why can’t we have faith that we will be welcomed by the merry coach? Maybe you think there’s an equal chance of both, but what if we don’t confine our hopes to the mathematics we know? What if the universe has more equations to add, ones that tip the chances toward the merry coach?

It won’t change much—just one thing: You will fear less and have more faith. You will enjoy waiting in the moonlight at the platform because your heart will no longer second-guess your decision to be there. And if you are so convinced that the coach arriving is more likely to be the merry one, then even if it seems dark at first, you might think, Maybe the fuse is out, but otherwise, it’s filled with warmth. If the people seem hostile, you might believe, Maybe they are angry about the election, but they are still good to connect with. And if it’s crowded, you might tell yourself, The more, the merrier.

What do you think? Do you anticipate the gloomy coach or the merry one?