Passing train

“But on a serious note, my friend. What have you done so far in taking yourself closer to that life you have always been dreaming about?” I watch the train’s last carriage roll by. I am able to see the faces of the commuters, eyes on their mobile devices, some talking with one another. Indeed we are passengers on the moving carriages of life. We might be doing useful things, we might be not. For some of us, we might even be on the wrong train.

The old gentleman does not look at me. His eyes are also on the passing train. A smile spreads on his lips while he awaits my answer. Then he gently nods, as he obviously receives what I mean to say.

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