From The Memories of A Confused Child

From The Memories of A Confused Child

The world is whimsical. The more you see, the more you get confused

While growing up, I wondered often what was it like facing the world. I used to stand in my long varenda of my old house, the house I spent my childhood in, and watched people walking by. I used to think their life must be a pleasant one. How could they not be happy?

I used to get confused when I used to walk on that road myself. Thinking that they road led to my answer, I happily followed. As I grew up to have enough sense, I realized it was a just facade. No life is a pleasant one. You have to make a life of your own. From childhood, we are taught to fight in this world, to make a stand in this society, to take what you can. 

No one taught me not to trust anyone. Now, I easily fall into the traps made by people, trusting them. The more I see them, the more I am confused. Is it me? Or have they always been like that? Cruel, immoral and discriminative?

No, it’s just the way they are. Because they are human. Humans are the only creature who can deceive, who can say things they don’t mean, who can backstab us and leave.

No, I don’t get confused anymore. I stand in a path where I have to fight my war alone. And I will because in this world, being innocent and confused won’t take you to the path you want to reach. Instead, I have to take one step at a time, take a breath so I am not confused anymore and go ahead.

Ahead, where I can be happy and have a pleasant life. Where the life is not whimsical but a peaceful one. 

 

Image source: Internet

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