Look, I have been driving this auto for twenty years. Every morning I wake up at five, my back is already complaining, I know exactly which route will have traffic, which police constable will want his cut. You could say I am trapped — same roads, same money, same problems. But I chose this. My kids eat because of these roads. My wife has a roof because I know every corner of this city better than the politicians know their own corruption. The real prison is the man who sits in an air-conditioned office hating his boss, hating his wife, hating himself, but he cannot leave because the EMI on his car will kill him. Me? I am not free in some fancy sense, but I am not lying awake at night either. Escape is a word for people who think the problem is outside them. Most times the problem is that you made a bad choice and now you want to run from it instead of fixing it.
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