Monday, November 7, 2016

The urban poor floor mat

There must be a universal syndrome in the fast changing corporate world - of the disparity in the pace of lifestyle, lives and livelihood. It could translate into differences of years of experience or the qualification certificates one may possess as skeletons in the closet.

Image result for urban poor girl

The increasing pressure to be "one" or "at one" in every possible way - makes you reach out for decision bench-marks much against your will.

In the end, all you have is a blank space where your heart is supposed to be and a plastic smile plastered on your face. You have to be happy - else myriad probing questions by all. No-one can really understand the depth of emotions that run awry in you.

A drawback in the quantitative ability makes you run within concentric layers - never to find an escape. The work-life is a curse-land - as it gnaws away at your time on earth. You know that there could be other avenues to shine in -  but again the certificates seem to have a say of nay on their own!

Everyday, you face the mirror to see the face and presence you slowly start to hate. Depreciation of respect earmarks your presence in public quarters as well.

You see the other batch-mates - living lives self-made. Where happiness is allowed to filter through too.

And then you see your own shadow - no silver linings there!

There are moments when the body is a dead-weight force retarding your own life-acceleration. You may feel the urge to get up and run amok - lose yourself in the crowd of the unknown - never to return back to the same place ever again.

But you are stuck - in chains to the place you don't belong to. With people you never can associate yourself fully with. You slowly romanticize your own melancholy - citing it as depression.