The race to what?

She was listlessly wandering in the dark alley. Her weapon of choice, a bow and quiver of arrows was slung across her shoulder. She was independent, fierce and steadfastly moral. She flouted the rules and acted on whims. She feared losing. She needed to win to exist in the race and the worst part was she didn’t know the challenge. In a tiny corner, she could hear her conscious self yelling, – “You’re strapped to a chair! Look at the wires snaking in”. Her body incapable of proving it. She had no aim, no duel and hence was doomed.

Sometimes, mostly all the time, we want something. We want this team to win the World Cup, we want this guy to win the championship, we want our food delivered in Mars, we want a minimum of x likes within 2 minutes of uploading a selfie on fb/instagram, we want approval of all sorts from our superiors, we want money, friends and power.  Yes, we are not saints. Even they disguise their desires under the hoarding of global peace and happiness. What are we racing towards ultimately? Is there proof of success or is this a virtual fall into an abyss? If this fight is not worth the price at the end, I want to QUIT right now.




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