Sometimes when I'm not given the things I ask for, I complain. Why couldn't I have a better place to live? Why do I have to live in a petty, dingy boarding house? Then walking towards home at night, I see little children in tattered clothes, sleeping on the side of the streets. Unconscious of the world around them, maybe these children will find a home at least, in their dreams.
The book of Ecclesiastes says that 'all is vanity'. If my life is one of such, then I would like to spend my vain life fighting for the welfare and betterment of others.