As the earth goes round,
New professions sprout.
But what if our careers
Didn’t pay us?
A job could be to money
As a stone is to a tissue-
Inconsequential.
Irrelevant.
Perhaps then we’d earn
On our character, certain points.
To be collected, spent,
Gifted and valued.
A liminal bot programmed
To grant us fair wages
Would then call, “Next!”
As every being lined up
To receive their worthy share.
Could our careers then
Be free of any hassle,
That may stoop to
Undermine its importance.
Could our careers then
Be our own and not
Tarnished by other’s opinions.
A just world that would be.
A happy realm of
Blooming passions and
Voluntary learning.
If only our jobs were to money,
What a stone is to a tissue.
If only our characters
Were more than judged.
– Meera.
The Life Stories 