Robotic like movements are carried out in succession by tired, worn out limbs. Eyes so full of sadness seem to be drowning in their sorrow. The brown depths of their centre, brimming with tears unshed. Yet after one long look my way he seems to give up and continue his task, not looking up again until he knows for certain that I have glanced away. A construction worker, his young faced etched with grim lines, his hands hardened by the heat and toughness of his work. He carries on, day in and day out, unaware, detached and completely silent.
His silence makes me want to reach out to him, to learn his story, to share my own. But we remain caged in. Our individual walls, carefully constructed and resilient as ever, hold us back. Away from the world outside we proceed, in our solitude.
Often at times, we come across people whose eyes seem to tell a story. Their faces engraved with pain, stories from their past seem to be haunting them, yet they try to hide behind a shallow, cheerful mask with which they fool the masses day after day. If you try to search their eyes, you will see there, the hurt and sorrow which they try to otherwise, keep hidden.
Word’s are meaningless, unable to explain the sorrow which these young eyes hold..
The human-such a lowly, insecure being. Unaware of each other’s plight we live each day, content within that little bubble of ours, so carefully constructed around us. Lost within the hollow hybrid of our own being we seem to crave the solitude of our own selves. Slowly, shutting out all that pains us. We seem so satisfied to gradually wither away, not feeling an ounce of suffering. Not caring, not grieving, not giving. Alone, aloof and oblivious. Not letting other’s reach too far inside for fear of what they might find.
Yet we kid no one but ourselves. Deep down those demons and emotions, carefully concealed over time, are raging a battle. Wanting to let themselves loose and drown you in despair they eat away at you day after day. Your resilience slowly seems to be slipping away. With time, you no longer see the point of trying, and give in to fight. You give up-you lose!
Soon depression sets in. Bring on all the therapist of the world; no one is able to cure you, for only you hold the cure. The tincture for happiness lies within you, within us all.
Photo credits: Moaz Ali, Location:Pakistan
Our lives lack the carefree happiness, and simple joy which people once had. Those little pleasures around which people’s lives once revolved, no longer mean much. We no longer care for minute little details, little emotion and gestures don’t touch us. We scoff at them, often finding them meaningless and useless. The reason: we aren’t satisfied. Our want for more and better has led us to a state of dissatisfaction, discontentment and frustration. Depression is becoming more common in younger people and it is no longer strange when we hear that our friends, as young as us have been in therapy. Isn’t this something we should question, rather than accept? Why are we so ready to give in to the fight? What happened to the human within us, the part which felt other’s pain and wanted to lend a helping hand? We no longer see the pain other’s might be going through. We choose to overlook, to remain unaware and remote.
Pathetic, unfeeling, insecure and afraid-A fickle, insignificant nobody in an evil, corrupt world is who we have become…