I let my mind wander wherever it wants — into places judged right or wrong, meaningful or meaningless. Rules have never bound me; it’s not that I reject them, I simply lack the energy or will to follow them. Laziness, perhaps, but also a quiet indifference. Whether it’s daily rituals like pooja or even personal hygiene, I never gave them much importance. Pain or discomfort I endure until it becomes unbearable, only then do I seek help. I accept such things as karma rather than reshaping my lifestyle. I am reckless with myself, not out of rebellion but out of carelessness. I’ve never found a compelling reason to change. When I see organized, disciplined people, I feel happiness for them and a deep respect. Yet I never feel inspired to follow their path. I simply don’t care enough. Maybe some hidden trauma shaped this indifference, dulling my sense of urgency toward life. Or maybe this is just who I am — a wanderer of mind and habit, respecting order but never seeking to own it. But...
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