Life of a bourgeois

At times I become so weary of a certain situation that irrespective of the outcome I just seem to lose interest in the entire episode. Many a time, in such situations, I’ve felt a voice inside urge me to park on one of the busy corners of the street of life and to get-off, turning my back to everything. Light that one gratifying cigarette, which a person trying to rehabilitate by quitting smoking might light after a period of abstinence, and thus find spellbound by it…. And walk away from everyone and everything. Now that might sound strange but that is exactly why it’s a part of life! So my friends, life is a journey which tosses strange and uncanny situations at us at quite some uneven pace. It is like a jukebox with multiple buttons; and as hard as we might try to push the button that we had always wanted to push, we still might end up listening to some weird music that we disrelish. The funniest part is that in real life too we have to (dis)relish the sojourn at our very own expense, as with the good-old jukebox.

In every real life situation- with the good and the bad part of it- the part which comes after the beautiful vignette, is the part which leads us to the above mentioned situation. Now being human, I can’t but help think like one and since I can’t help but think like one therefore I can’t help but feel the same way, when confronted with a testing scenario. My mind, quite obviously, being made to confront the arduous orientation gives me two scenarios. The first being the tough one, which is standing up to the task at hand howsoever formidable it might seem and the second being easy, which needless to say is the one we had so far been talking about. Candidly speaking, there have also been times when I have taken the latter, mostly out of sheer desperation and timidity. But, to not astray and to say what I actually wanted to say, I shall not digress to the ratio of me being a wuss vis-à-vis not being one.

After the standup being done and with the severity of the situation lashed upon, somewhere in between a point is reached when one gets this strong urge to quit the entire episode and to resign to the probable unpleasantness thus arising from the renunciation. This point or this so called urge that we talk about, is fairly strong. Its strength is derived from a fair bit of disappointment, in the aftermath of lackluster, insipid and uncongenial corollaries.

At this very point I have always come across something which I consider as the balance of nature. I say so because whenever I am in one of these moods, looking around I have happened to chance upon a shabbily dressed old man. A person with dissipated youth; moving about with a pushcart, carrying knick-knacks which probably are his ticket to the days meal. This sight has never once failed to make me wonder about a time in his life, when he would wake up to a days sickness, helplessly thinking what to do about the meal which he might not be able to earn as a result of his malady.

Irrespective of all said and done, I, then hardly fail to see my situation as far better than that of the poor old man…. And that our life is still a cakewalk in comparison with that of a bourgeois.