bhaskar saikia

In the greater schemes of the cosmos, no lives matter. Even in the galactic scale, nothing will change if tomorrow a giant cataclysmic event destroys Earth into tiny fragments of rocks and end all life forms. The Milky Way galaxy will continue to exist; the only tiny change might be that the Sun would wobble a little bit and the moon will hurl itself towards another celestial body.

The question is—do such galactic events occur?

Yes, and we have proof!

In 2015, the Star N6946-BH1 in the constellation Cygnus went missing!

How?

The prevailing theory suggests that the star, a red supergiant according to photographic records from 2007, failed to go supernova and simply disappeared. Whatever the scientific explanation may be, the key takeaway is this: if a star 25 times the size of our Sun can vanish without disrupting the universe, then the destruction of a small rocky planet like Earth would be utterly inconsequential on a cosmic scale.

Another fascinating example is the Boötes Void, a vast region of emptiness spanning roughly 330 million light-years across. To put that into perspective, light—traveling at nearly 300,000 km per second—would take 330 million years to cross it. By the late 20^th century, astronomers had identified only about 60 galaxies within this void, raising the unsettling question: What cataclysmic event erased almost all observable matter from this region?

Recent discoveries suggest such voids are not anomalies but rather integral to the structure of the universe. Perhaps the cosmos naturally expands into cosmic voids and galactic superclusters, or perhaps these voids are remnants of cataclysmic events that occur more frequently than we ever imagined.

These examples remind us of life’s fragility. More importantly, they reiterate a harsh truth: in the cosmic scale, no lives matter.

What does this mean for us?

A famous story about Charlie Chaplin comes to mind. Once, he told a joke to an audience, and they roared with laughter. He repeated it, and fewer people laughed. The third time, no one laughed. Then, he asked, “If you cannot laugh at the same joke again and again, why do you cry over the same worry repeatedly?”

This perspective is worth considering. On Earth, all lives matter—we love, grieve and seek meaning. But on a cosmic scale, our struggles, achievements and even our very existence are inconsequential.

Yet, this should not make us despair. Instead of fearing inevitable cosmic disasters, we should cherish the miracle of life. We must break free from the web of trivial concerns and appreciate the fleeting time we have.

Carl Sagan beautifully captured this in his reflection on the Pale Blue Dot:

“Look again at that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it, everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every ‘superstar,’ every ‘supreme leader,’ every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there—on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.”

So why remain trapped in our anxieties when, in the grand scheme of the universe, our greatest worries are mere specks of dust floating in the vastness of space? Instead of being consumed by them, let’s choose to live.