Whenever something untoward happens to us, the first thing that comes to our mind is that beautiful question: "Why me?" We don't ask that question when something good is going on for us. Food on our plate, clothes on our back, roof over our head, fuel to go from one place to another... we never ask why we got so lucky. Maybe this entitlement has a lot to do with the way one is brought up. Chances are, if your childhood was an underprivileged one, you'll tend to appreciate things more. There are very few left among our species who are more than grateful to what they have and less bitter about what they don't. These people believe in giving away as much as in earning more. My childhood friend Tanno's brother-in-law was one such personality. I remember how he used to hand out more money than the autowallah's meter demanded. He did the same with the waiters and the street vendors. If you taunt him for being spendthrifty, he'd say stuff like, "When God isn't a miser when it comes to me, why should I be one when it comes to others?" One can sense God complex there but that'd be morally incorrect, because it was quite evident that he was trying his level best to make justice with what he has with those who don't. It was also his way of not having to ask the why-me question if something bad happens to him.
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