One sunny day –

There’s something strangely beautiful about people who don’t expect anything from the world—not even birthday wishes, People who have stopped chasing, who no longer care about looks, opinions around them. They always seem a little gloomy, but I often wonder how they never get bored of such quiet lives?!.

Maybe it makes sense. One part of my mind feels like a strict granny, while the other behaves like a reckless child. And when the world becomes too exhausting, I find myself longing for the calmness those people carry. Sometimes, I wish I could live like them—waking up at 6 AM, sipping tea, reading the newspaper, doing a bit of gardening, then drifting back to sleep. What a peaceful life to exist in.

I suppose even the most peaceful people were once reckless kids. Growing up, I never really had anyone to show me the world or tell me what was right or wrong. Maybe that’s why the “granny” in my mind had to grow up early, while I’m still at an age where recklessness should feel natural. I always enjoyed observing things around me .Maybe this is my way of finding peace.

People those are both reckless and calm are terrible,  I find them terrible and somewhere in my mind I assume they have that multi personality disorder.  But “granny” says , they are the wise men of the society.  Well fair enough.

Today I woke up early. No classes, nothing important to do. So I ended up doing what I’m really good at—watching people.
Doesn’t that sound like stalking? Probably yes. Sometimes I feel like the main character of a serial-killer movie, the one who used to watch people before the climax. Horrible, I know. Even when I write it down, it sounds horrible. Even I sound more horrible in person. At this point, I’m convinced my lover might soon book me a bed in the nearest asylum.

Anyway, back to the point. I watched different people in their 60s doing all sorts of things. My own family is filled with people above 60, so I’ve observed this up close. The  women especially in brown families never seem to stop working. In my eyes, they don’t seem to live in peace.

But the men? O my they are super peaceful chilling under the winter sun . Maybe it’s just a brown-men thing. Sometimes I feel like I’m not eligible for the peaceful life I dream of—waking up at 6, sipping tea, doing a bit of gardening, because it seems like a privilege reserved for men .