Fret

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Not many people live a peaceful life. I have seen people grumbling about the hardships of anything. I do not ask the reasons and how can I ask the reasons? I am a busy man with my own problems. Sometimes I must listen to them not because I can help them but it helps me to forget mine. People can fret anywhere. We fret at homes, in offices, in cars, in buses, in cremation ground, in auto mobile workshops, in grocery shops and in hospitals. I think people fret even in space, if only I am astronaut to shout towards the crazy world.

We now have a new place to fret, behind the internet connected computer screens. I sit alone in my desk mistaking everyone I am in my busy schedules of work. Someone accuses me of something and I just cannot do anything. Feel like punching the monitor but computer is expensive and I fret. Even if computers come cheap, I will fret from the pain of my fist and the broken screen.

A girl opens up her inbox expecting mail from her boyfriend. She finds none and she frets. I get wild to follow the instructions of boss when he asks me in a tone of get the hell out of here. What difference does it make? It does, it sure does. A beautiful girl asking my name with a rose flower in her hand will get the sweetest reply I am Arrogant Buddha even if she does not offer me her rose. The same girl with rose in hand telling her boyfriend I love you in a tone of get the hell of out here will get a nasty look to say the least. If he kicks her outright, it will not be surprising to me.

People accuse each other not only in the real lives but in the screens too. A car collides with another car with negligible scratches and both the drivers come out of the cars to explain each is right on his own terms. When both are right, it means one is wrong, therefore a need of intermediation from third parties. In the screens people exchange profane texts incriminating each other. Therefore, we all fret with reasons or without reasons anywhere, anytime with anyone, ignorantly or not.

Anxious psychotic husband in his first night is covered with beads of sweat. Someone tells him the story of location of woman’s important organ. What he does not realize about the story is when a woman is nine month old pregnant. He starts to fret from ignorance. Actually I am also not sure on this; my disclaimer is I may be ignorant too. I will not fret now, at least.

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