A sewer cleaner cleans road manholes near Jatrabari Dhaka in Bangladesh. For this one-day work, the cleaner gets about $8. (KM Asad, Human Press, wsj.com June 16, 2017)
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- What makes me happy now: my very old dog. He tells me to be happy is to be warm, to be fed, to be clean, to rest, t… twitter.com/i/web/status/1… 1 week ago
Live & Learn 
My day at the computer trying to knock out the first draft of a story just became way, way, WAY more enticing….
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You think???
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never complain.
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Bingo…
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I can’t hit the ‘like’ button…too much pain and disgust and anger in those eyes..
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Agree…
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I stared at those eyes again, after your comment. Haunting.
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Yes – absolutely haunting and haunted
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We have so very little to complain about, right?
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Exactly…
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It helps (or should at least) remind us to appreciate the things we take for granted, like plumbing. Photo bears a striking resemblance to the “Aqualung” album cover (Jethro Tull, 1970 (?))
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Yes, appreciation to say it mildly. I’m off to check out Agualung’s cover.
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Wow!! Feel lucky!
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Me too!
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Thank you David for the perspective and the reminder for which all I am grateful.
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Thank you Peg. I was moved by this photograph.
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Reblogged this on It Is What It Is and commented:
We should never complain … 😳
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I hit “Like” only because you shared an important reminder to not take our easy lives for granted (easy compared to his).
I cannot help but wonder what is going through his mind while the photographer snaps his pic… or what the photographer told him it was for (if he did)
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Yes Dale. Almost a feeling that a War Photography must feel.
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You know what the sad part is? This isn’t the worst thing someone out there in this world has to do to earn a living. It can still be much worse.
I cannot get myself to get a pedicure by someone other than myself. I did it 2 or 3 times in my life. The last time I looked at the womans face and she looked up and I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. I asked to be excused, paid and left. To think that my feet are her daily bread was too much.
It is crazy what equals others daily bread in our world.
Or, the sight of someone sitting in a fancy designer’s suit reading the newspaper while getting their shoes cleaned and shined. To help, pay them for a shoe-cleaning session and leave. Go buy the product. Clean your shoes yourself. Spoil your shoes, don’t spoil yourself.
In fact, I was at LaGuardia the last time I saw that. The shoe cleaners and suits with newspapers.
Thank you for sharing this. I personally needed the reminder. Was starting to forget.
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There’s a lot to chew on here Sawsan. There is another side to this. Many need to eat their daily bread, and without pedicure, shoe shines, facials, etc, well…
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I’m with you.
But, seriously, what do you think the percentage of those sitting for a pedicure or shoe shine are doing it to help someone buy their daily bread?
Or the percentage of those who would remember the face of someone who shined their shoes? Or even looked at their faces.
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This just makes me angry.
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The photograph stirs me to the bone too.
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It brings up so many other contributing issues.
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The caste system in India sucks. We must never forget the ongoing suffering around the world.
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Truth.
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Humans. Bless the least among us.
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The least meaning the least affluent; the least privileged, the least able; may the meek truly inherit the earth.
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I saw a documentary on Netflix a few months back called “Happy” it showed all sorts of people and studies on happiness from around the world and one of them was an Indian man who pulled people all day on his cart. He had no shoes it was hot, he lived with 10 people in a tent style home etc! And yet he was one of the happiest people I’ve ever seen.. He said the work was hard, but I love coming home to my family and seeing their faces and living in my beautiful home. It was so very sobering. The documentary said that the studies prove time and time again that it is “us” in the western world, who are by far, the most unhappy people in the world. We who have everything. Now that’s sad Mr K 😢
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I must see this documentary Karen. I’m off to Netflix to check it out. Thanks.
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