To bring to your notice, the following piece has been crafted by a fellow writer, Krishn Maloo. At first glance, the idea sounds almost insulting.
Gods, envy us?

After all, gods have everything sorted. They live forever. They wield unimaginable power. They never panic over unread emails, unpaid bills, or the unsettling question of “What am I doing with my life?” They do not grow old, do not feel hunger, and do not lie awake at 2:37 a.m. replaying conversations from five years ago.

Humans, meanwhile, are fragile, confused, and constantly one bad decision away from a mild existential crisis.

And yet, when you look closely, it is precisely these weaknesses—death, doubt, pain—that might make human life something even gods could envy.

The clearest difference between gods and humans is death. Gods exist endlessly, their lives stretching forward without urgency, without a final chapter. Humans, on the other hand, are painfully temporary. We get a handful of decades, if we are lucky, and spend most of them wishing for more time.

But that ticking clock is not a curse. It is what gives life its sharpness. Knowing that life will end forces meaning into even the smallest moments. A shared meal. A long walk. A message you almost didn’t send because you were scared of sounding foolish.

Time pressure turns living into a sport. It is why humans make lists titled “Things to do before I turn 30” or “Before I die.” Travel here. Fall in love at least once. Quit a job dramatically. Learn an instrument. Forgive someone who does not deserve it. These lists exist because we know the window is closing, even if we pretend not to hear it.

Every “I’ll do it later” becomes a gamble. Later is not guaranteed. A god can postpone everything forever. A human cannot. We must love now, forgive now, risk now.

Think about fear. Would bungee jumping feel thrilling if you could not die? Would your heart race, your hands shake, your mind scream this is a terrible idea if there were no real consequences? Without death, there is no adrenaline, no hysteria, no moment where you jump anyway despite your body begging you not to. Risk only matters because something can be lost.

Humans chase experiences precisely because they are fleeting. We cry at goodbyes because we know they are final. We celebrate birthdays not because we enjoy aging, but because each one is proof that we are still here.

Death does not make life smaller. It makes life urgent. It makes it real. It turns ordinary days into limited-edition moments.Gods may have infinite tomorrows. Humans have today. And that difference changes everything.

Humans also possess something gods often lack: the ability to change. In old stories, gods are trapped by their own perfection. A war god cannot choose peace. A wisdom god cannot afford foolishness. A trickster god must always deceive. They are powerful, yes, but frozen in place, like beautifully carved statues.

Humans are not finished products. We are drafts. We contradict ourselves. We fail publicly, regret privately, and occasionally surprise even ourselves. We can be cruel one year and kind the next. We can fall apart and still rebuild. This freedom—to become someone else through choice, is something eternal beings, locked into their identities, may never understand.

Then there is love.

When gods love, they do so safely. Their hearts are armored by immortality. Loss may sting, but it does not destroy. Human love, however, is reckless. We love knowing it might cost us everything. We love people who might leave, change, betray us, or die. We step into relationships fully aware that heartbreak is not a rare exception, it is a real possibility.

And still, we choose to love.

That willingness to open oneself to pain for the chance of connection is not weakness. It is courage in its rawest form. It is the kind of bravery that cannot exist in a life without real risk.

Perhaps the most astonishing thing humans do is believe their lives matter at all. We are tiny creatures on a tiny planet, floating in a universe that does not pause for our grief or celebrate our victories. And yet, we insist on meaning. We write stories. We chase dreams. We grieve losses deeply and celebrate small wins loudly.

This is not a delusion. It is defiance.

We create a purpose where none is guaranteed. We declare that our lives matter simply because we are here, and because we choose to care.

So if gods do envy humans, it is not because we are stronger or wiser or more powerful. It is because we have something they do not.

We have something to lose.

And despite that, we love fiercely, change constantly, and live as if our fleeting lives are worth something.

Gods may live forever.But humans live fully, tasting every emotion that only a mortal life can offer, and that depth of feeling may be the rarest kind of immortality there is.