I know that you think you’re big, but think not that he’s inferior. You work big, in some high-storeyed plush office; may be! but dare not think that he works low, nor does he work any lesser. You work, and with rest, but for nothing other than filling your stores; thus, he’s far better for he works rather tough. You think he works not; mind you! he does. He comes before you do, in his lesser-washed uniform, because he hasn’t got enough time to treat those nor has he enough wealth to buy servants like you can.
He comes even before you open your grim eyes to move out of your bed, and you think he does nothing yet.
Thereafter, you make an entry, and while you work, rather sit there under the ever-rotating good old fan, that good old man has been sitting there for hours, now completely drenched in those itching drops of sweat, and yet has hours to tend to his creaky wooden chair looking after the things of the hundreds of officers who ‘sit’ in their cosy seats, same as you do, in their offices. All the way, he is meant to keep guard of all those useless and pitiful things, without a break, until they are all gone, everyday, sometimes splashing mud to his face or leaving him in a cloud of dust while choosing their course.
He holds his never-blinking eyes in place without the littlest breaks, while you enjoy those even!
Yet you think he works less, you stupid creature! You think he’s possessed with dishonesty, disloyalty and such. Which is why, out of nowhere, filled with filthy pride, you popped out of your ‘sitting’ place – your so called office – to miss no opportunity to show him down. To show him that he’s mean, you did nothing but scold him for doing exactly nothing.
He was very much at his place.
He was very much ‘in’ his duty – honest and dutiful.
He was very much awake – wide-eyed.
He was very much in sweat, and swollen of the day’s sweltering sun.
Yet you overshadowed him by saying that he wasn’t fit for standing there even. Exactly, he deserved rather better a place! You barked at him because you still think that he does nothing other than make mistakes; have you ever been, yourself, free of errands?
Nevertheless, he kept quiet, while you blared at him because of nothing.
You know what, he was on the brink of tears, his heart had already been flooded with those, yet he spoke nothing – not merely a word – out of his fear, and wit even, I guess.
The fear he bore was of losing his job because of a mistake he never did, a mistake nobody else could have observed in lives, except this body of some living useless mass – that had been you! And his wit, his knowingness, said that that blurting out unmanliness abreast him was too understanding to grasp the plight of those ranked below him due to the bitter bite of time on their shoulders, too kind to feel their pains.
Thus, you were forgiven (by him), like an infant is forgiven, behind the lines made by the tears which his heart had yet shed.
But, have ‘you’ yet been sorry for what pains you etched to his soul?
No! I know you wouldn’t have been thus.
Yet you press your ever-negative mind to think that ‘that good old man’ was mean; he never was, you rather were.
You really were!
You only were!
>> October 26, 2016 [14:08 – 20:16]
- image source: internet
I was very much shocked at what my sight observed that day (around 12:10 IST).
It was utterly shocking!
How do these rich-bitches hurt anybody – without being sorry even?
I have ever thought that the being who took part in my life for the slightest tick of the clock has helped me live my life; how can I destroy the one!
So, I promise to do my part well in their lives, apart from the shameful acts of these a** rich-bitches…