mohammed ashraf

When you first come here, there is a lot of hope, abhilasha. You think anything is possible. You have heard all the stories of people who have made it big in the city. Slowly, as time goes by, you start wondering what you are doing. One year, two years, three years and you are still on the footpath. But people say, have faith, bharosa–something will happen. But slowly you realize, nothing will happen, and you can live the next five years just like the last three years, and everything will be the same. Wake up, work, eat, drink, sleep, and tomorrow it’s the same thing again.
So you start fantasizing about returning. You think of the lush green fields, the cool, pure water, the healthy food. You suddenly decide that you were wrong all along; there is money to be made in the village, especially for a man with your experience. But one morning you wake up to realize that living isn’t so much about success as it is about compromise–samjhauta. A samjhauta with life, where you stop wanting to be anything at all. After enough time in Delhi, you even stop dreaming–you could go crazy if you think about it too much.

Mohammed Ashraf 

(From A Free Man by Aman Sethi)