Fret, A way of life

            An important aspect of life, an important emotion which never leaves me. My day starts with it & ends with the same. Early morning I fret that I am not allowed to sleep till 9’ am like my 13 year old sister. In day I fret for not having a bike, for not having a six pack, for not having Reebok, Addidas merchandise, for not having a separate room & most importantly I fret for I have to fret about all these issues. What is so important about all these reasons? Simple they make me feel good and are a sense pride.

           But such fret I have never seen in the faces of street children. I have many a things they don’t viz. parents, house, schooling, friends, meals, money… But they don’t fret. They smile and are happy why?

Cartoon Kids Sharing Seat

           It is something like this “I will be ashamed of having no shoe  till the time I see a man with no feet”. Yes I don’t have all that I wish for, but at least I have all that I want. In other words I am privileged & my world is different from the less privileged ones. So should I fret for being more privileged? Seems logically right. Not at all. I am privileged to have good parents, good schooling, good understanding then what am I to do? 

Babies Sharing Cartoon

         Share the same, but with whom? The more privileged ones or the inline privileged ones or the rest. Definitely with the rest but my (a+b)² makes no meaning. Similarly my electronics textbook or even this article makes no difference to them. It means sharing of food, money, heart with them. It is like a sort of providing security , telling them that they shall not starve, that it is ok to be less privileged.

HamBurger

          But all of this requires money, time, sincere effort and endless toil. What the necessity for me to do all this? I have to fret and thus don’t have time, I have to eat a burger with my daily allowances, I have to spend my effort and energy in burning the flab... I have my line of businesses to be taken care of then what for me. It is their fate. 

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This is one of the essays I wrote as a child. Well, my English teacher didn't like it. How about you???


with warm regards
Abhishek Boinapalli