This document is a series of rhetorical questions pondering who cares about the various choices and circumstances of the speaker's life. It explores different options for how the speaker could sleep, eat, bathe, dress, spend their time, and more. The final lines reveal that the speaker's parents died in a car crash when they were young, leaving them an orphan in a cruel society that has made them numb to love and forget what it means to care.

1. WHO CARES
Who cares whether I slept on a furry quilt of satin or a blanket of acridly pointed
thorns,
Who cares whether I ate in plates coated with scintillating silver or didn’t consume
food at all,
Who cares whether I used perfumed soap to scrub my persona or bathed in water
leaking abundantly from the gutters,
Who cares whether I wore linen suits blended with rich denim or was wandering in
unscrupulous rags on the chilly streets,
Who cares whether I studied diligently browsing trough complicated literature or
gallivanted through the country farm,
Who cares whether I took medicine in high fever or gulped sips of red wine to go off
to sleep,
Who cares whether I played with ornately embellished soft toys or contented myself
molding incongruous shapes in disdainful clay,
Who cares whether I traversed the streets in luxury sedans or spent marathon hours
to reach my destination barefoot,
Who cares whether I deciphered mind boggling puzzles or smoked cigarettes
incessantly on the house terrace,
Who cares whether I bought fresh fruits from the market or plucked them
surreptitiously from the orchard tree,
Who cares whether I flew in the grandiloquent aircraft or swam across choppy waves
of the ocean to witness the world,
Who cares whether I behaved somberly in front of my elders or barked a volley of
abashing expletives at the same,
Who cares whether I clambered up stairs leading to the sacrosanct church or whiled
away the whole of the day gambling for money,
Who cares whether I spent the afternoon relishing the cool air of the airconditioner
or perspired like a bull under the sweltering sun,

2. Who cares whether I celebrated several festivals or feasted on intoxicating beer every
night,
Who cares whether I trimmed my moustache scrupulously every day or let my beard
grow the way it wanted; taking random roots,
Who cares whether I lead my life doing benevolent deeds or spent the remaining part
of it in despicable jail,
Who cares whether I mixed in the high society or had a group of dreaded gangsters
as my roommates and friends,
Who cares whether I had blissful dreams in the night or woke up with petrified jerks
every ten minutes,
My parents had left when I was an innocuous kid; the treacherous tyranny of a car
crash rendering them dead,
And the adulterated society in which I existed today had unanimously christened me
an orphan,
Made me wholesomely numb to the spirit of love; made me forget the essence of the
word care.