That feeling of insignificance

That feeling of insignificance when it’s a clear moonless city-less night full of stars. That feeling of insignificance when it’s the great blue ocean splashing out in front of me in a secluded beach. That feeling of insignificance from the top of the highest peak, the surrounding hills rolling over as far as the eyes can see. That feeling of insignificance when I see dead bodies being brought to the cremation grounds every other minute, smoke settling down from the numerous pyres around me. That feeling of insignificance when I am walking in the platform to take a train in a direction opposite to peak time traffic. That feeling of insignificance when I am in a massive mall bookshop and none of the books there have been written by me. That feeling of insignificance when you see a mass of devotees rushing past you to the nearby temple and my voice of condescending rationality chokes out at my throat. That feeling of insignificance when there is that group of begging children surrounding me, my sacrifice in the form of an ice-cream for each far from enough to buy even a day of happiness for them.