Yours is better than mine

So many of us loved eating; others tiffin when in school. Even I did. In fact I threw what mommy made to the crows and kites (those were the days!)

Generically speaking one can’t stop adoring; what he or she wears, eats, goes, their friends, their way of talking … in fact their whole blessed Life looks way better! You’ll never stop charming … ‘What a lucky bastard he (or she) is!’ What begins during days of innocence carries well till maturity.

One stays on with self guilt carrying year after year.

Am I complaining? …

Did you …

Is there a way to come out of this guilt?

How?

It took me years.

Over the years, I saw people without hands, legs … physical distortions carrying on with their lives — challenging themselves every day, every hour … every moment. How to board a bus? Catch a train. Walk up the stairs. Bend down to pick up things. Buying groceries; from the market. Cooking food. Sending kids to school — they do everything we do!

Can they complain?

It ain’t that simple to put everything neatly about life — its atrocities and misgivings and also … solutions! What one knows is fraction of the entirety. In spite overt complications, life of such (unfortunate) people goes on.

It is from them I try to draw my inspiration.

Fighting ones destiny is the greatest challenge!

GOD never said it can’t be changed.

SO BE IT.




PS: If you feel, I could've written more ... do indicate.
Thanks.