When I was five years old, I was busy living my life. Sometimes I used to look at the sky and wish to know its end.

When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up?

There was curiosity about the things that were in front of us. Why is this so? How did we come to this earth? Where do people go after death? Will we also die?

We never thought about what we wanted to become. At the age of five, we had no intention of becoming anything.

At this age, who cares about what they want to become when they grow up?