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Workshop Share This Page
Contented Life
by Pavalamani Pragasam Bookmark and Share

Why, folks, are you looking so curiously at me? You know very well mules are beasts of burden carrying merchandise and men. Bullocks draw heavy carts while camels trudge in desert parts. Reindeers pull sledges in polar regions. Horses are harnessed to carriages. Elephants are employed to carry forest timber. You netizens may add me to this list-another two-legged beast you see squatting here, tired after a day's brisk trotting.

I guess you find my rickshaw an anachronism in an age of bullet trains and supersonic jets. Try to recall the heyday of my rickshaw before this automobile boom. Oh! Those good old days of unpolluted atmosphere! Anyway my rickshaw suits me well. I find it convenient. No fodder to buy, no fuel to refill.

Used to surfing at lightning speed, you, sure, are nonplussed at my snail's pace. But I find it easy and quick to boot my vehicle. The fact that I am not techno-savvy does not unsettle me. I prefer to keep away from electronic machines. I do not allow myself to be daunted or subdued by the complexities of modern life. Simple is my style of living.

By the by, spare that sympathy in your stare. Half-exposed as I am to harsh weather, I think it not a serious matter to bother about. I earn my living by hard labour and no grudges do I ever harbour.

With what I earn humbly keep body and soul together I can and live happily as an honest man. Cushion bed or chocolate bar give me no pleasure. But I value a warm, generous heart as my treasure.

I need never rack my poor, untrained brain to count ciphers in lakhs and millions of gain. No wealth, no tax and no care. And no ill-will to anyone do I bear.

Today hypertension and cholesterol seem to be the ailment of all. But no overeating for me and no obesity. For medicine I have no necessity.

I need not with fear and stress strain in tough competitions. I have no post or position to maintain. No cheating, no hating and no strife. Content am I with my day-to-day life. Gay as a lark, whistling at the stars I reach my warm little hut. Love's little lamp is burning there inviting me to a peaceful night's well-earned sweet slumber.  


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24-Nov-2000
More by :  Pavalamani Pragasam
 
Views: 1148      Comments: 0




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