Every time I step onto public transport, I can’t help but notice the unsettling sights and heavy atmosphere that surround me.
I see fellow passengers, their faces buried in their phones, lost in a sea of mindless scrolling, earbuds in place, isolating themselves from the world. It’s as if they are moving through life in a haze, masked by the smiles they wear, yet beneath that facade lies an ocean of sorrow and hardship, all while they grind away in low-paying jobs. It breaks my heart to think that these individuals, like so many others, must have once held dreams of greatness, a hope to conquer the world, and a flicker of passion that has sadly faded over time.
Are they truly happy in this existence, or have they simply lost the fire that once drove them? It’s difficult to comprehend how it’s possible to give up so easily after experiencing loss and struggle.
I wonder. When did they stop dreaming? Was it after the first heartbreak? The tenth rejection? The moment life taught them that not all effort is rewarded, that sometimes, even survival is a victory?
Life can be so painfully unfair, teaching us lessons through our trials and tribulations. I understand this on some level, yet I can’t help but wonder how anyone can let go of the one precious life they have. Don’t they long to fight, to push against the barriers, and to truly live? This life we have is a gift, filled with opportunities for growth and joy.
As I observe the weary faces around me, I see individuals carrying untold stories and burdens of trauma that they’ve kept hidden—people who seem to have lost their will to fight for a better tomorrow. This reality resonates deeply within me, evoking a profound sense of empathy and sorrow.
Each day, my heart goes out in prayer, wishing for a life of significant obstacles. I welcome challenges as part of the journey, but more than anything, I pray—not for an easy life, but for the strength to stay on fire. And I send that prayer out to every tired soul I pass on the train.