How does a bad day start for you? You run late for the office. You burn your breakfast. And when you get out of the house you realize you forgot your cell phone. Standing on the road you wonder where all the rickshaws of the world have gone. You reach the station to get to your train which leaves the station when you are just about to reach the platform. Finally you make it to your workplace only to realize the 8 hours of hopeless wondering.
Where you had to fight for your own work station. You fight for your appreciation. You fight for your recognition. You fight for your acceptance. You work your ass off only to realize that you have been exploited to the core – financially, mentally and physically and don’t even get me started on emotions. And you do realize that there is no turning back and if given a chance you will do the same thing over and over again because you might get another chance but you will never have another option.
You live in a small room of a house which is far from being a home. You try every day harder and harder to make your own living, to make your mark, to get used to of it, to play with this routine, but how will you do that when you are being played with the masters of all called “Life”.
You try to find solace in the closest friend or a closest companion. Friend or companion who can take your hand and console you with words which lack experience and they can touch you with their warmth which lack the caress of pain you live with. They see you with eyes so flooding with emotions but lacking the sight which could have made them the “witness” of your day.
Never the less you hold on to every word of console coming from them with a hope to find one answer one solution in it which could give you the strength of moving on. Every word full of motivation every statement full of encouragement, still it fails to touch your heart. Because they say every thing “right”, without understanding the “wrong” of your life. Then how could heart in pain be consoled with words coming from a dictionary of optimism unaware of the existence of the opposites.
Written by - Ritika Patel