“How many years can some people exist
Before they're allowed to be free
How many times can a man turn his head
And pretend that he just doesn't see
The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind
The answer is blowing in the wind….”
He stands in a corner for almost seven hours checking library books. He is a young, tall slim guy .If you look closely you will realise that he has nice features. But very few notice him closely. He is almost like a part of the office décor, like the furniture, the graphics on the wall. He is there standing with a frozen, expressionless gaze. He looks at nothing in particular and sees nothing in particular. He wishes staff members morning and evening as they enter and exit mechanically. I have never seen him smile .His face and eyes speak of a tired man. Fatigue is written all over his face. I discovered he leaves home early in the morning around six thirty to catch the morning local to Howrah station. It is a long journey. His home is quite a distance from the station. So he has to leave very early .He works for this reputed security agency. The pay is peanuts. I have seen this man for some years now and there has been no change in his position.
I sometimes wonder what forces a person to waste his youth in this manner. Is it lack of education? Is it lack of courage? Is it lack of intelligence? Is it lack of imagination? Or is it sheer circumstances in one’s life which creates such man-machines.
The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind
The answer is blowing in the wind…
Before they're allowed to be free
How many times can a man turn his head
And pretend that he just doesn't see
The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind
The answer is blowing in the wind….”
He stands in a corner for almost seven hours checking library books. He is a young, tall slim guy .If you look closely you will realise that he has nice features. But very few notice him closely. He is almost like a part of the office décor, like the furniture, the graphics on the wall. He is there standing with a frozen, expressionless gaze. He looks at nothing in particular and sees nothing in particular. He wishes staff members morning and evening as they enter and exit mechanically. I have never seen him smile .His face and eyes speak of a tired man. Fatigue is written all over his face. I discovered he leaves home early in the morning around six thirty to catch the morning local to Howrah station. It is a long journey. His home is quite a distance from the station. So he has to leave very early .He works for this reputed security agency. The pay is peanuts. I have seen this man for some years now and there has been no change in his position.
I sometimes wonder what forces a person to waste his youth in this manner. Is it lack of education? Is it lack of courage? Is it lack of intelligence? Is it lack of imagination? Or is it sheer circumstances in one’s life which creates such man-machines.
The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind
The answer is blowing in the wind…
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