As a young boy, I was taught the language of giving. It was taught almost everywhere. In the homes, churches and schools and the elderly would never stop yanking at the ear of that kid who was tagged stingy. As a matter of fact, the tale of one who had no shoes and cried often but stopped lamenting when he saw a boy without legs was often narrated to that clingy kid
Be that as it may, I see giving as something that goes beyond mere giving of material things. I see giving as an attitude. It is not a customary attitude. Something to show courtesy. No, not all. It's a human quality. One with some sense of humanity left within him.
This picture incited a lot of thoughts within me and got me agitated to write this.
I do not know how true this is. But it's definitely human to do
And one might wonder why he had to do it anyway. It is not like it changed anything.
Apparently, he had a conscience. One that haunts his emotions. One that made him take his life
What's the life for anyway he probably had wondered
Life is a mangled piece of clay. Battered and frustrated by the strife to live
Have you given someone a cup of water today? One who has not even a drop. Out of the ocean you do not use. Or maybe out of the ocean you can do away with. Which God has given you anyway.
When we cry and yearn and crave for the things yet unseen, it's human to consider what we have done with what we have.
The gods would probably be angry, starved of sacrifices in form of giving and sneezes vengeance like dragons
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