I met him on the road , he was sitting in a corner left of the road with his bag full of tools and leather in his shabby yet simple clothes stitched from different clothes to hide the holes, talking to a customer who was there to get the shoes repaired.
The boy was barely of 10-12 years old but the kind of competence and understanding he has of life is unbeatable. He truly marked the survival of the fittest theory rather than me who always complained about my state that things hardly working for me. I stand to see him and even pity that at an age he’s supposed to be playing or with his school bag, he’s compelled to search for a suitable means of earning a livelihood.
I was gazing him constantly and my inability to speak to him. I wondered what to ask ? His state or his broken dreams ? Both will pain him and his conscience if ever i dare, for he’s forced to be a cobbler and count every day’s earnings for his existence. He has adapted and accepted the state that he was in and without complain. He’s not concerned if ever he’ll be able to continue like that in future but his survival asked me to complain less and make things work out even though it’s hard to keep going, maybe one day when i’ll be something i’ll be able to help more of them.
Do you think you still complain ? Why not to visit your city entirely to see how blessed you are ?