This is us.

My latest so-called expedition among the unexplored.

Not being a picture of some famous personality, doesn’t work as clickbait sadly.

We don’t really know what it means to be poor. What it means to have that feeling of going to sleep on an empty stomach, the feeling of not being able to attain even the minimal of needs which we might need to sustain us from the brink of collapse. We might go on everyday, doing what we feel like. Eating the things we like, doing the shit we want to. Whereas someone in a remotely old village by the river just lies there. He just continues to stare into the blankness of his hands. He sits outside his so to call place of existence. His children don’t know what could they do, their mom continues to shed her silent tears in the darkness of the night. She has to endure the pain of seeing her children go to sleep hungry, their stomach growls for help but they force themselves to sleep. They have nothing, nothing but hope. A hope which makes them believe that they’re next day will be better. The next day they’ll do something which would lead them to a path of development. But it makes me question, where is this development? I don’t see development.

If you call, the building of roads, the ever-expanding mass of urbanization a development? I shall strongly disagree. Can you please explain this building of a dam on the area where he spent his childhood,whilst his liveliness being taken away. He sees his everything shattered into pieces by force for the so-called greater good. It’s just urbanization, a large scale program of profit for the majority of our civil society. A person who’s been displaced for the so-called greater good has no place to go. What kind of development is it? What happened to the real meaning of development? An improvement for our living. Why is it that the improvement we see is only so much biased towards the people who live in the urbans? Even if we accept the fact that this is our destiny. Isn’t there even a little something which could be done. We all live better lives and strive to do so. They say that we must carve our own paths. But carving itself needs tools, The tools some can attain, some cannot. We are blessed to have what we have. This is no self-love article but the harsh truth which some choose to accept and some don’t. It’s how our civil society works.

I see people flexing around in their Louis Vuitton’s and Lamborghini’s, it’s cool they’ve done their part and they got it. But they had some sort of support, even 1% support which makes a person is support. Everyone’s fighting a battle of their own, and a meager discussion of how you’re day went. It’s still some support if not most of it. And sadly most of our generation can’t have that. And doing just your part won’t cut it. Doing your part might let you survive but it won’t really allow you to strive. And doing a little extra is all we need. Just a little extra, even as small as flashing a smile to the next person you see. Asking your parents how their day went. Such tiny things can go a long way and then give us a reason to stay rather than shutting everyone out. And creeping away from this civilization of a society. A civil society which is as ruthless and self-centered that one won’t exactly like to imagine the reality which goes on among us. I won’t be blaming anyone on what we should do.

What we do is what our society has taught us, And everyone complies to work with it. I do such terrible things, you do such terrible things and we do regret on it. And eventually we move on with it. Because that’s what we’ve learnt. To move on. But do we actually move on? Or do we just get okay with the fact that we did this or that, I believe the latter. But even if we do move on. All the things slowly end up piling in a part of us which we don’t wish to explore.Their is just so little to do. Honestly. It’s all their in our everyday lives. And we yet move on in a race which won’t end. And as a hard-fact. Everyone of us teens are caught up in this whirlwind twitching society. The cut-throat surroundings questioning our every move. What do we do? The time we’re caught up in might just be the worst time of our lives. After all we’re children of a bad revolution is what they might say. This blame-game of a teens life is never to end until they’re pressurized to turn into mature adults not knowing what it is to live. A time where we’re too young to be given responsibilities but too old to be lavished and pampered by the people around. You tell me, where do we go?