As I continued my journey, I noticed the people working around me—the ones picking up parcels, the bus driver of the bus I was in, the rickshaw driver—all those performing jobs that often go unnoticed but are essential to keeping the world running. My heart goes out to these people. You see, respecting them is one thing, but what truly breaks my heart is the disproportionate balance between the effort they put in, the wages they receive, and how easily we overlook their contributions.
These individuals earn a tiny fraction of what many of us do, and it’s hard to fathom the kind of stress they must endure—managing families, raising children, and holding onto the hope that one day, a future generation might break free from the cycle of poverty. Some have made it out, like the rickshaw driver who dropped me off in Goa; his son now works at an IT company.
As I’ve grown more conscious and empathetic over the years, I’ve begun noticing the small details in the lives of these people. If you want to understand the essence of life, just take a moment to observe the blue-collar workers around you. In my case, it often leaves me feeling a deep sense of depression when I compare their struggles with my own, knowing that I have so many resources at my disposal. But perhaps there’s something positive in that as well—a reminder of the privilege I have and the opportunity to use it for something more meaningful.