My Busy Life

What’s life? I hope you know it, but for me, life is nothing. I hope I don’t know about life, instead, I know very much about a File containing about 150 pages to learn their each and every word by heart. Is it possible for you to remember such a long plan of future? Nah –– How can you think of a donkey hoping to pull a new cart?

A pile of books remain on my head in school; a pile of schools remain on my head in academy. Don’t you think about a monkey having two brains, planning to jump from a pine tree to mango tree?

How can my teachers say that studies are very easy, when even a ghost runs away when he hears the familiar word ‘mathematics’.

Would you ever believe in future that you have learned about 10,000 pages or more in your youth? Nah–– your belief would have gone away with a bullet train in Pakistan.

What’s my schedule of studies? You will be very surprised that even I don’t know that. How can you think of a clock asking whether to shout out the alarm or not? I go to school, academy and my home. These are my headquarters of tension. My brain’s empty, with a covering of rusted dunk (seems weird) all around. I hope one day I’ll wake up from my bed, put on my uniform, go downstairs and then gape at myself in shock.

“Oh gosh! It’s still night!” I shall say.

And now, my last question: Do you ever think that we can differentiate between two same trees? Nah–– we shall be able to see what’s in Bermuda Triangle, but not explain the life of studies.

Don’t you think it’s a food for thought?