Starting 2016

I like hearing people talk about their stories & their histories, incredibly they are never what you imagine them to be. We somehow always tend to judge people from the way they look and the way they seem and unfortunately from others opinions.
Some of the best people in this world are rough as sand paper, they look weird, they talk weird, but there is an undeniable sense of wisdom in them that transcends all of that. They look forgettable, but they are anything but that.
Its where respect is born.

In this part of the world, as great as it is, as luxurious and as grand as it has become, it not too difficult to see people struggling to survive, barely scrapping through.
I was talking to one of the project heads at my workplace ( he was talking.. I was listening ) and he was telling me of when he just started out, and the difficulties people have faced as a new expat, and it seems everyone has the same story, and yet it never gets old, partly because its a story of endurance and crazy faith and also partly because its something everyone has gone through.

You come to this city full of hope and a million worries on your mind, you are lost and alone, each day harder than the previous, and it seems like you always have more people to support than you are able to. You live in a house with other strangers and soon those strangers become the first among many people you will share this journey with. You work morning to night fueled by the sense of duty. There are days you don’t have money to eat, or call home. The streets are all crowded but you are overwhelmed by the sense of loneliness, but you keep going.
And after a few years of doing this again and again, you get your chance, you get your shot, a door opens, if only for a second and once you walk through and your life changes.
We’ve gone through the same struggle, for eight-nine years and I’ve always been reluctant to acknowledge it before, but if I am anything today, if there is any fire in me, or any hunger in me, it is because I’ve locked eyes with desperation, hardships and sacrifice. Its made me who I am, its showed me what Family it and it has taught what life is. Its no wonder, then that the people who go through such are always thankful for the experience- its takes a certain darkness to see the stars, it takes a certain desperation to see the grand-ness of being alive.
In the end, Human endurance always wins.. and it seems God always honors the person who works hard.

Its how I plan to go through this year, sincerity and hardwork, Now seems to be the good time to do that and years later, I hope to have my scars and my trophies to prove that I didn’t live the same year 70 times over and it all counted for something.

Happy New year ( 16 days too late.. 🙂 ) .

How’s the New Year treating you?



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