guilt

Just when you thought it was safe to let your guard down and relax, you entered the shower. You think the geizer (sp) had been left on long enough. But 35 minutes just isn’t enough for a girl that needs conditioner, or shampoo for that matter. The warmth lasts just long enough to get some initial comfort but quickly you’re tricked. Teased. Like a bad relationship, everything is great in the beginning but bam it slaps you in the face and you think, “What am I doing? I’m not happy! Where am I?” You’re left brutally uncomfortable dripping with anger and swearing at everything.
But, then you remember the boy that sitting under a tree in the middle of the jungle wearing only a few yards of fabric. He’s at the base of Himalayas. At night here the temperature is only about 40 degrees right now. The forest floor is cold, hard, and damp, and there are a myriad of animals that can come out to paw you at any moment. Maoists surround him. You think if he can sit there for 6 months and 20 some days, I can endure a cold shower.
Plus you think shit, there are people in this very same town that shower only every couple of days or weeks. They join others around a community tap when the sun is at its peak and they wash away the diesel fuel that’s blackened their exposed skin. These people don’t complain, they don’t lash out at the people around they just live and smile and they accept. They move on and give their pain away to a higher source.
So for the sake of not feeling so damn selfish, I give my bitterly cold shower to a thirsty pilgrim somewhere in the Sahara. Enjoy.