Squander Squad.

                         Squander Squad.

          With my mom, over here, right beside me, earning the title "best counsellor" through that cuboidal shaped box (phone) whose main job is to "put us down" in our lives, I realized,

          "Aren’t we all getting used up because of things which are actually not to be bothered about?"

Legit.

          My mom, herself has zillions of problems to manage. In spite, she sits there spending most of her time telling people to live their life to the fullest.

So, there comes the actual query,

"Are we, intellectual yet stupid humans, living our life as we want it to be lived?"

Or,

"Are we, even living our life or precisely draining away time just because we have been given a lot of it?"

The answer differs from person to person.

Maybe, even I don't live my life.

My Instagram stories are always filled with grievances as others' lives are.

Thank god! Only my Instagram stories are.

Honestly speaking,

Yes.

Even I don't live my life,

Even I am just fooling around in this spherically shaped room named "Earth."

Not solely, but with Seven Billion (7,000,000,000) people.

But the difference is, I am totally aware that my life's battery is coming down.

I perceived a lot of things, now, because of my mom's advice to that pitiful person on the other side who's eyes might actually be dwelling with tears now.

Only when I sit and hear all of this mess,

I remember the time,

          When, I saw an old lady on the road, covering her bleeding leg with a plastic sheet, wearing a plastic cover as her protection, trying to walk as fast as possible through the road as the droplets of rain from heaven was falling on her old wrinkly face, with marks all over her body, with those plastic sheets often trying to fall apart.                 She was still looking assertive. She couldn't walk, but she tried all her level best, with her swollen legs. She reached the other side of the road, to a vegetable shop. I was totally occupied watching her every single step, as she finished her task, a very small task which has to be repeated over and over again, in a single day. I don't know, or maybe I don't want to know, if she was happy when she finished moving from one side of the road to the other, but her eyes told that she was not happy. Her small little bead of tear from her left eye, told, that she was not happy. 

           Her toil did not come to an end over there, she had to fight the place to even stand over there, with her hunched body, people over there battling for space. With, rain getting heavier and heavier, she stood there, as patient and bold one could ever be in that situation. With water pouring down from the plastic sheet above the vegetable shop because of the accumulation of the rain on it, she tried moving in that cramped up place, and failed, again and again. But, she never stopped trying, 'Never.' 

           She kept trying, kept failing, and the last time, heaven blessed her, by stopping the rain and the crowd beginning to move apart. She would have felt relieved, probably. And in another, two minutes, she silently trotted from there continuing her rash journey.

It is really easy for me, to describe things, to describe her courage.

But for her....?

          Our problems are just crap in front of those people whose whole life is on stake.

Only when we try conceiving this, we mature.

          "We" might be the only kind of people who turn the simplest of the simplest things into the most perplexing ones ever.
  

                                                              ***