busy

Being busy seems to be the new norm. It gets us a bragging right. The treadmill crafted by a few wants us to feel great about being busy.

We are busy, still, nothing gets done on time. We are busy to miss the son’s first recital or daughter’s participation at a speech competition. We are busy and hence skip meeting ailing parents for months and mourn their death throughout our lifetime.

What have we done to ourselves? Are we a human or machine doing our part in the grand scheme of Capitalism?

We have stopped living idle or lazy. I wonder what Mozart, Van Gogh would have said about our current generation, seeing us all hooked to the gadgets or remote meetings.