Miseries of the Mortals
There are times in our lives when we feel lost, directionless and in darkness. When we look around, nothing ever seems to be hopeful. Our eyes look for happiness but we don’t find any. We get deeper into the melancholic hurricane of our own thoughts that leave us in despair.
Some dreams that we wanted to come true, some targets for which we worked day and night, some people who we hoped to stay forever in our lives. Everything just falls apart. We fall apart, get shred into pieces of hopelessness. At that moment we seek out someone to listen to us and how many of us get that someone?
Life troubles us all. But when someone is in a trouble and needs a hand to hold or a shoulder to lean on, is it necessary for the reminder that how small the problem is? How irrelevant is their worry? Is it necessary to make them feel stupid for the pain that they are going through? There shall always be some other person with a larger or smaller problem. Does that mean your problem is small and unimportant?
How ironic is this world, on one side, it asks people to open up and tell how they feel, on the other hand, it makes them feel bad about the way they feel. We all are judged and criticized brutally for the ways that we live in, believe in.
How does the world work? Do people even care about other fellow beings? Why can’t we just acknowledge each other’s troubles without making them feel silly? Why do we choose to be selfish when we can be selfless. Why do we hate when we can love? Is it because being selfish is easier? Is it easy to hate?
Why do we say that things will get better someday even if we know that they wouldn’t? We become more tolerant tomorrow than yesterday but does life gets better? The dilemma of living in a dreamy world vs living in a real-world is so confusing.
Now amidst all this, we get something called luck to just alter our happiness. We are told that we aren’t lucky enough to get something in our lives. Who decides that? What about our efforts? Hard work? All goes in vain just because some are lucky? How is all this fair? But then someone told me that life isn’t fair. How does life work? Is it just then? Why do some get lucky and others don’t? Is luck mere an illusion?
We all are somewhere trying to solve the mysteries and come out of some illusions and find our way. Survival isn’t easy, but is our life easy?
We live, hope, laugh, cry, love, hate and then eventually die. But the theory of unfairness remains unsolved.
If it’s unfair, uneven, mysterious then do all rise after every fall? I am still in a quest to find the way this all works. If you ask me, even I am unable to take a stand on the things that life throws at us. Eventually, one day we would all perish into dust, why not try once more? That’s all we can do. Get up and try not to die before you die!
