The Man of the House

That’s the thing about a middle class man. He finds happiness in everything he gets. You won’t find him quarrelling with Gods about how small his house is or how hot it gets in summers or the foreign trip he never went to which he dreamt of as a kid but became a man too soon when his father passed away and he had two little girls to look after. 
An average person lives in between the spaces. He knows that he belongs nowhere and it is liberating. It is liberating to not have walls as your home, to not have a definite place to return but some people with whom you could belong anywhere. There is happiness in gulping alcohol in glasses of chai road side, the bottle of which he steals from the shop nearby. There is happiness in having bun - maska and knowing about that from your father with a content on his face, as if he was reliving his college days when he wasn’t the man of the house and flunking classes was the only stress he had. 
Something less is always something happy and I don’t mean there aren’t incidences when you don’t want luxury for say have money to pay fees of your little girl or cure his gray-haired mother who coughs a little longer but aren’t the rich ones suffering too? They are suffering. 
It is just that a man with sufficient funds learns to be happy with that much. He knows that he has less, but he is the richest of all. He knows he has mouths to feed and eyes which wait for a new toy they saw their batch mates playing with, but he always acknowledges that he is bestowed. That he is bestowed with love and sacrifice, the priceless values in life. 
He respects himself when he goes into the job with a bag by his shoulders, walking slowly under the steaming sun only to come back to his perspiring wife in the kitchen and believe me, that sight, the sight of his wife playing with his children and making food for them, it’s no less than godly, a prayer answered. 
He has no ambitions though he wishes his life to be simple and that, my friend, is the most ambitious one can ever be. To have the love of your life, running behind the half-versions of you both, is the best possession one could have. That’s the thing about an average person. He has less, but what he isn’t aware of is that he has more, he has enough.
Pic Credits: Pinterest