Jaipur. Ups and downs in life is destiny. But some people get confused that failure is the end of life. But this statement is not true. The truth is that without failure a person cannot achieve success. This story is of such a Karma Yogi, who drank the poison of failure not only once but many times. The result of this was that one day he decided to commit suicide. That’s when the thought flashed, what would he gain by suicide. Wife crying bread and two small children, who will take care of them. The questions were stinging.
That night in the flame of tension…? Not even the moon of hope was visible in the sky that night. Maybe angry with my failures, he has gone somewhere. Disappointment from all sides, desperate I started staring at the customers confined in my thadi. My focus is limited to this. What do I have to do with the world? Just let the stove burn in the house. The question remained on the concern of tomorrow. Only the one above will do something. Poverty and stress are his pastimes. As far as the subscription is concerned, I have no control over them. Today’s truth is in front of me, even after waiting for the whole day, the tea has become cold. Burning of kerosene fumes. Flowing drops of tears.
But this sorrow was also going to be happy. If customers come, they will get money. Bread for the kids. Milk for tea and my bundle of beedis and matches. There was no other grief except this. My king. Brown colored desi dog….his wish will be fulfilled. Wagging his tail in the hope of bread, maybe he is tired…! I have some friends too. Free tea drinkers. Even their faces are not visible since two days. My question is Wants to escape the fog of despair.
Thinking this, he got up from Tapak with long arms and started staring at the passers-by, standing under the shady neem tree nearby. Only then my eyes fall on the playful squirrel. She is so fickle. She is busy in her world with a strange and seductive voice. He has only one goal. It is his personal goal to collect food for the newborns sitting in the nest. But my mind is struggling with failures. There is thick darkness around the eyes.
But the darkness of my mind has deepened even more than this. Like me, the vehicles running on the road are probably tired. Failures seem to have tired them too. The failure of my path rests on the shoulders of such people. The truth is that there are some people who do not consider failure as a goal. Every moment we try to move forward on the path of efforts again on the basis of enthusiasm. But, I’m sorry. Surrounded by failure. I asked, and burst out at that moment, that I was tired.
Why don’t you understand my future dreams? Even my memories don’t support me anymore. In my mind, I wanted to become a writer, but I do not get that environment. Then…. Counterattack inside the mind. Writing needs the mind, not the atmosphere. This work place of my mind. My little teacup. Companion of my happiness and sorrow. It is a little less than a big factory of a capitalist. I am getting interested in my business. The annoyed face of the old father and wife is now giving relief. My mind is excited too.
The road passing in front of my tea stall. My mind has started bouncing. Sometimes towards the sky and sometimes towards those roads which do not take the name of getting tired. But just think about it, what if it gets tired, what if someone gives solace to some new life sitting at its end. What if, by changing the pattern of life here, their eyes go towards the new life. What if these fast running vehicles stop on seeing a speechless person and their blood does not spill on the road. We have snatched the place of our living from those who can never say that how much our haste costs them.
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