So I visited a hospital a few days back, don’t get me wrong, I am not going to describe it as a first time fun trip. No, not happening. I decided to write about this for various reasons. I am 16 and I have almost never really been to a hospital. I was born in one of course and went to see a physician sometimes when I was a little kid, I have also been to labs for blood tests and to the dentist, many times. But it stops there. All this wasn’t really hard hitting, I didn’t meet a lot of people either. But last week, I went to an actual, huge hospital-with all departments, hordes of doctors and wagons of patients- along with my sister who actually had to see a dermatologist. But that’s not the point. The point is, that the moment you step inside the hospital, those white tilled hallways smelling like some sort of detergent mixed with the pungent smell of sorrow- it shakes you. It shakes you real hard, pulling you out of your own reality and pushing you into another, a reality so brutal, so heavily marked with the stifling stench of doom that it grows on you, like entangled vines, like clumps of moss, dark and dreary, threatening to pull you under, to make you feel hopeless and more than that, helpless. You realize, that there are people in the exact same world as you, the same dimension, who have problems, real problems, problems we can’t even begin to imagine, much less comprehend. I realized that problems go much deeper than the ones I have. My isolation, my examination stress, my fallouts with friends and non-existent social life – all are such trivial issues that I must not be cribbing over like I always do, because in the real world, they don’t matter. We are worried about not having enough time to watch TV, whereas people don’t have enough time to live. We are scared of not being able to make it to the top 10 at school, people are not sure whether they will make it to the end of the day. That day I came face to face with real suffering, and pain and misery and I realized what it must feel like to be in that position. In a position where either your life is jeopardized or one of your loved ones might not make it. But it’s not just the grief that bothers a person in such a situation, its always the confusion, the constant turmoil in the head, a tug of war between the heart and mind, the heart unable to cope with the reality, and the mind thinking of the worst possibilities. Its all these factors that might break a person, crumble them, shatter them into a million little pieces that can’t ever be pieced back together. I am not trying to be preachy or pitiful. Neither do I mean to say we should stop paying attention to our everyday doings. All I am trying to say is this, that we should be grateful, grateful for our five senses, love and laughter, grateful for the gift of a good life, a healthy body. We must stop cribbing about trivial issues and failures, we must be able to look past them and see the beautiful yet broken world that resides just at the periphery of our vision. We are breathing, we are walking and talking without the fear of not being alive the next hour, so let’s be grateful for that. 


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