Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Words of Wisdom If It's Meant To Be, It Will Be!
As I walked home one freezing day, I stumbled on a wallet someone had lost in the street. I picked it up and looked inside to find some identification so I could call the owner. But the wallet contained only three dollars and a crumpled letter that looked as if it had been in there for years. The envelope was worn and the only thing that was legible on it was the return address. I started to open the letter, hoping to find some clue. Then I saw the dateline -1924. The letter had been written almost sixty years ago.
It was written in a beautiful feminine handwriting on powder blue stationery with a little flower in the left-hand corner. It was a 'Dear John' letter that told the recipient, whose name appeared to be Michael and said that the writer could not see him any more because her mother forbade it. Even so, she wrote that she would always love him. It was signed, Hannah. It was a beautiful letter, but there was no way except for the name Michael, that the owner could be identified. Maybe if I called information, the operator could find a phone listing for the address on the envelope. 'Operator,' I began, ' this is an unusual request. I'm trying to find the owner of a wallet that I found. Is there anyway you can tell me if there is a phone number for an address that was on an envelope in the wallet?' She suggested I speak with her supervisor, who hesitated for a moment then said, 'Well, there is a phone listing at that address, but I can't give you the number.'
She said, as a courtesy, she would call that number, explain my story and would ask them if they wanted her to connect me. I waited a few minutes and then she was back on the line. 'I have a party who will speak with you.' I asked the woman on the other end of the line if she knew anyone by the name of Hannah. She gasped, 'Oh! we bought this house from a family who had a daughter named Hannah. But that was 30 years ago!' 'Would you know where that family could be located now?' I asked. 'I remember that Hannah had to place her mother in a nursing home some years ago,' the woman said. 'Maybe if you got in touch with them they might be able to track down the daughter.' She gave me the name of the nursing home and I called the number. They told me the old lady had passed away some years ago but they did have a phone number for where they thought the daughter might be living. I thanked them and phoned. The woman who answered explained that Hannah herself was now living in a nursing home.
This whole thing was stupid, I thought to myself. Why was I making such a big deal over finding the owner of a wallet that had only three dollars and a letter that was almost 60 years old? Nevertheless, I called the nursing home in which Hannah was supposed to be living and the man who answered the phone told me, 'Yes, Hannah is staying with us.' Even though it was already 10 p.m., I asked if I could come by to see her. 'Well,' he said hesitatingly, 'if you want to take a chance, she might be in the day room watching television.'
I thanked him and drove over to the nursing home. The night nurse and a guard greeted me at the door. We went up to the third floor of the large building. In the day room, the nurse introduced me to Hannah. She was a sweet, silver-haired old timer with a warm smile and a twinkle in her eye. I told her about finding the wallet and showed her the letter. The second she saw the powder blue envelope with that little flower on the left, she took a deep breath and said, ' Young man, this letter was the last contact I ever had with Michael.' She looked away for a moment deep in thought and then said softly, 'I loved him very much. But I was only 16 at the time and my mother felt I was too young. Oh, he was so handsome. He looked like Sean Connery, the actor.' 'Yes,' she continued, 'Michael Goldstein was a wonderful person. If you should find him, tell him I think of him often and,' she hesitated for a moment, almost biting her lip, 'tell him I still love him. You know,' she said smiling as tears began to well up in her eyes, 'I never did marry, I guess no one ever matched up to Michael.'
I thanked Hannah and said goodbye. I took the elevator to the first floor and as I stood by the door, the guard there asked, 'Was the old lady able to help you?' I told him she had given me a lead. 'At least I have a last name. But I think I'll let it go for a while. I spent almost the whole day trying to find the owner of this wallet.' I had taken out the wallet, which was a simple brown leather case with red lacing on the side. When the guard saw it, he said, 'Hey, wait a minute! That's Mr. Goldstein's wallet. I'd know it anywhere with that right red lacing. He's always losing that wallet must have found it in the halls at least three times.'
'Who's Mr. Goldstein?' I asked as my hand began to shake. 'He's one of the old timers on the 8th floor. That's Mike Goldstein's wallet for sure. He must have lost it on one of his walks.' I thanked the guard and quickly ran back to the nurse's office. I told her what the guard had said. We went back to the elevator and got on.
I prayed that Mr. Goldstein would be up. On the eighth floor, the floor nurse said, 'I think he's still in the day room. He likes to read at night. He's a darling old man. 'We went to the only room that had any lights on and there was a man reading a book. The nurse went over to him and asked if he had lost his wallet. Mr. Goldstein looked up with surprise, put his hand in his back pocket and said, 'Oh, it is missing!'
'This kind gentleman found a wallet and we wondered if it could be yours?' I handed Mr. Goldstein the wallet and the second he saw it, he smiled with relief and said, 'Yes, that's it! It must have dropped out of my pocket this afternoon. I want to give you a reward.' 'No, thank you,' I said. 'But I have to tell you something. I read the letter in the hope of finding out who owned the wallet.' The smile on his face suddenly disappeared. 'You read that letter?' 'Not only did I read it, I think I know where Hannah is.' He suddenly grew pale. 'Hannah? You know where she is? How is she? Is she still as pretty as she was? Please, please tell me,' he begged. 'She's fine ... just as pretty as when you knew her.' I said softly. The old man smiled with anticipation and asked, 'Could you tell me where she is? I want to call her tomorrow.' He grabbed my hand and said, 'You know something, mister, I was so in love with that girl that when that letter came, my life literally ended. I never married. I guess I've always loved her.'
'Mr. Goldstein,' I said, 'come with me. 'We took the elevator down to the third floor. The hallways were darkened and only one or two little night-lights lit our way to the day room where Hannah was sitting alone watching the television.
The nurse walked over to her. 'Hannah,' she said softly, pointing to Michael, who was waiting with me in the doorway. 'Do you know this man?' She adjusted her glasses, looked for a moment, but didn't say a word. Michael said softly, almost in a whisper, 'Hannah, it's Michael. Do you remember me?' She gasped, 'Michael! I don't believe it! Michael! It's you! My Michael!' He walked slowly towards her and they embraced. The nurse and I left with tears streaming down our faces. 'See,' I said. 'See how the Good Lord works! If it's meant to be, it will be.'
About three weeks later I got a call at my office from the nursing home. 'Can you get away on Sunday to attend a wedding? Michael and Hannah are going to tie the knot!' It was a beautiful wedding with all the people at the nursing home dressed up to join in the celebration. Hannah wore a light beige dress and looked beautiful. Michael wore a dark blue suit and stood tall. They made me their best man. The hospital gave them their own room and if you ever wanted to see a 76-year-old bride and a 79-year-old groom acting like two teenagers, you had to see this couple.
A perfect ending for a love affair that had lasted nearly 60 years!
It was written in a beautiful feminine handwriting on powder blue stationery with a little flower in the left-hand corner. It was a 'Dear John' letter that told the recipient, whose name appeared to be Michael and said that the writer could not see him any more because her mother forbade it. Even so, she wrote that she would always love him. It was signed, Hannah. It was a beautiful letter, but there was no way except for the name Michael, that the owner could be identified. Maybe if I called information, the operator could find a phone listing for the address on the envelope. 'Operator,' I began, ' this is an unusual request. I'm trying to find the owner of a wallet that I found. Is there anyway you can tell me if there is a phone number for an address that was on an envelope in the wallet?' She suggested I speak with her supervisor, who hesitated for a moment then said, 'Well, there is a phone listing at that address, but I can't give you the number.'
She said, as a courtesy, she would call that number, explain my story and would ask them if they wanted her to connect me. I waited a few minutes and then she was back on the line. 'I have a party who will speak with you.' I asked the woman on the other end of the line if she knew anyone by the name of Hannah. She gasped, 'Oh! we bought this house from a family who had a daughter named Hannah. But that was 30 years ago!' 'Would you know where that family could be located now?' I asked. 'I remember that Hannah had to place her mother in a nursing home some years ago,' the woman said. 'Maybe if you got in touch with them they might be able to track down the daughter.' She gave me the name of the nursing home and I called the number. They told me the old lady had passed away some years ago but they did have a phone number for where they thought the daughter might be living. I thanked them and phoned. The woman who answered explained that Hannah herself was now living in a nursing home.
This whole thing was stupid, I thought to myself. Why was I making such a big deal over finding the owner of a wallet that had only three dollars and a letter that was almost 60 years old? Nevertheless, I called the nursing home in which Hannah was supposed to be living and the man who answered the phone told me, 'Yes, Hannah is staying with us.' Even though it was already 10 p.m., I asked if I could come by to see her. 'Well,' he said hesitatingly, 'if you want to take a chance, she might be in the day room watching television.'
I thanked him and drove over to the nursing home. The night nurse and a guard greeted me at the door. We went up to the third floor of the large building. In the day room, the nurse introduced me to Hannah. She was a sweet, silver-haired old timer with a warm smile and a twinkle in her eye. I told her about finding the wallet and showed her the letter. The second she saw the powder blue envelope with that little flower on the left, she took a deep breath and said, ' Young man, this letter was the last contact I ever had with Michael.' She looked away for a moment deep in thought and then said softly, 'I loved him very much. But I was only 16 at the time and my mother felt I was too young. Oh, he was so handsome. He looked like Sean Connery, the actor.' 'Yes,' she continued, 'Michael Goldstein was a wonderful person. If you should find him, tell him I think of him often and,' she hesitated for a moment, almost biting her lip, 'tell him I still love him. You know,' she said smiling as tears began to well up in her eyes, 'I never did marry, I guess no one ever matched up to Michael.'
I thanked Hannah and said goodbye. I took the elevator to the first floor and as I stood by the door, the guard there asked, 'Was the old lady able to help you?' I told him she had given me a lead. 'At least I have a last name. But I think I'll let it go for a while. I spent almost the whole day trying to find the owner of this wallet.' I had taken out the wallet, which was a simple brown leather case with red lacing on the side. When the guard saw it, he said, 'Hey, wait a minute! That's Mr. Goldstein's wallet. I'd know it anywhere with that right red lacing. He's always losing that wallet must have found it in the halls at least three times.'
'Who's Mr. Goldstein?' I asked as my hand began to shake. 'He's one of the old timers on the 8th floor. That's Mike Goldstein's wallet for sure. He must have lost it on one of his walks.' I thanked the guard and quickly ran back to the nurse's office. I told her what the guard had said. We went back to the elevator and got on.
I prayed that Mr. Goldstein would be up. On the eighth floor, the floor nurse said, 'I think he's still in the day room. He likes to read at night. He's a darling old man. 'We went to the only room that had any lights on and there was a man reading a book. The nurse went over to him and asked if he had lost his wallet. Mr. Goldstein looked up with surprise, put his hand in his back pocket and said, 'Oh, it is missing!'
'This kind gentleman found a wallet and we wondered if it could be yours?' I handed Mr. Goldstein the wallet and the second he saw it, he smiled with relief and said, 'Yes, that's it! It must have dropped out of my pocket this afternoon. I want to give you a reward.' 'No, thank you,' I said. 'But I have to tell you something. I read the letter in the hope of finding out who owned the wallet.' The smile on his face suddenly disappeared. 'You read that letter?' 'Not only did I read it, I think I know where Hannah is.' He suddenly grew pale. 'Hannah? You know where she is? How is she? Is she still as pretty as she was? Please, please tell me,' he begged. 'She's fine ... just as pretty as when you knew her.' I said softly. The old man smiled with anticipation and asked, 'Could you tell me where she is? I want to call her tomorrow.' He grabbed my hand and said, 'You know something, mister, I was so in love with that girl that when that letter came, my life literally ended. I never married. I guess I've always loved her.'
'Mr. Goldstein,' I said, 'come with me. 'We took the elevator down to the third floor. The hallways were darkened and only one or two little night-lights lit our way to the day room where Hannah was sitting alone watching the television.
The nurse walked over to her. 'Hannah,' she said softly, pointing to Michael, who was waiting with me in the doorway. 'Do you know this man?' She adjusted her glasses, looked for a moment, but didn't say a word. Michael said softly, almost in a whisper, 'Hannah, it's Michael. Do you remember me?' She gasped, 'Michael! I don't believe it! Michael! It's you! My Michael!' He walked slowly towards her and they embraced. The nurse and I left with tears streaming down our faces. 'See,' I said. 'See how the Good Lord works! If it's meant to be, it will be.'
About three weeks later I got a call at my office from the nursing home. 'Can you get away on Sunday to attend a wedding? Michael and Hannah are going to tie the knot!' It was a beautiful wedding with all the people at the nursing home dressed up to join in the celebration. Hannah wore a light beige dress and looked beautiful. Michael wore a dark blue suit and stood tall. They made me their best man. The hospital gave them their own room and if you ever wanted to see a 76-year-old bride and a 79-year-old groom acting like two teenagers, you had to see this couple.
A perfect ending for a love affair that had lasted nearly 60 years!
Thursday, June 25, 2009
A blind boy sat on the steps of a building with a hat by his feet. He held up a sign which said: "I am blind, please help." There were only a few coins in the hat.
A man was walking by. He took a few coins from his pocket and dropped them into the hat. He then took the sign, turned it around, and wrote some words. He put the sign back so that everyone who walked by would see the new words.
Soon the hat began to fill up. A lot more people were giving money to the blind boy. That afternoon the man who had changed the sign came to see how things were. The boy recognized his footsteps and asked, "Were u the one who changed my sign this morning? What did u write?"
A man was walking by. He took a few coins from his pocket and dropped them into the hat. He then took the sign, turned it around, and wrote some words. He put the sign back so that everyone who walked by would see the new words.
Soon the hat began to fill up. A lot more people were giving money to the blind boy. That afternoon the man who had changed the sign came to see how things were. The boy recognized his footsteps and asked, "Were u the one who changed my sign this morning? What did u write?"
The man said, "I only wrote the truth. I said what u said but in a different way."
What he had written was:
Today is a beautiful day & I cannot see it
Do u think the first sign & the second sign were saying the same thing? Of course both signs told people the boy was blind. But the first sign simply said the boy was blind. The second sign told people they were so lucky that they were not blind. Should we be surprised that the second sign was more effective?
Moral of the Story:
Be thankful for what you have.
Be creative. Be innovative. Think differently and positively.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
The first day of school our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn't already know. I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder.
I turned around to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a smile that lit up her entire being.
She said, 'Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I'm eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug?'
I laughed and enthusiastically responded, 'Of course you may!' and she gave me a giant squeeze.
'Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?' I asked.
She jokingly replied, 'I'm here to meet a rich husband, get married, and have a couple of kids...'
'No seriously,' I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age.
'I always dreamed of having a college education and now I'm getting one!' she told me.
After class we walked to the student union building and shared a chocolate milkshake.
We became instant friends. Every day for the next three months we would leave class together and talk nonstop. I was always mesmerized listening to this 'time machine' as she shared her wisdom and experience with me.
Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up.
At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet. I'll never forget what she taught us. She was introduced and stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor.
Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said, 'I'm sorry I'm so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! I'll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell you what I know.'
As we laughed she cleared her throat and began, ! We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing.
There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success. You have to laugh and find humor every day. You've got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die.
We have so many people walking around who are dead and don't even know it!
There is a huge difference between growing older and growing up.
If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don't do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old. If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty-eight.
Anybody can grow older. That doesn't take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding opportunity in change. Have no regrets..
The elderly usually don't have regrets for what we did,
but rather for things we did not do. The only people who fear death are those with regrets.'
She concluded her speech by courageously singing 'The Rose.'
She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives. At the year's end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those years ago.
One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep.
Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it's never too late to be all you can possibly be.
These words have been passed along in loving memory of ROSE.
REMEMBER, GROWING OLDER IS MANDATORY. GROWING UP IS OPTIONAL. We make a Living by what we get, We make a Life by what we give.
God promises a safe landing, not a calm passage. If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it.
'Good friends are like stars........You don't always see them, but you know they are always there.
I turned around to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a smile that lit up her entire being.
She said, 'Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I'm eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug?'
I laughed and enthusiastically responded, 'Of course you may!' and she gave me a giant squeeze.
'Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?' I asked.
She jokingly replied, 'I'm here to meet a rich husband, get married, and have a couple of kids...'
'No seriously,' I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age.
'I always dreamed of having a college education and now I'm getting one!' she told me.
After class we walked to the student union building and shared a chocolate milkshake.
We became instant friends. Every day for the next three months we would leave class together and talk nonstop. I was always mesmerized listening to this 'time machine' as she shared her wisdom and experience with me.
Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up.
At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet. I'll never forget what she taught us. She was introduced and stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor.
Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said, 'I'm sorry I'm so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! I'll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell you what I know.'
As we laughed she cleared her throat and began, ! We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing.
There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success. You have to laugh and find humor every day. You've got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die.
We have so many people walking around who are dead and don't even know it!
There is a huge difference between growing older and growing up.
If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don't do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old. If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty-eight.
Anybody can grow older. That doesn't take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding opportunity in change. Have no regrets..
The elderly usually don't have regrets for what we did,
but rather for things we did not do. The only people who fear death are those with regrets.'
She concluded her speech by courageously singing 'The Rose.'
She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives. At the year's end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those years ago.
One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep.
Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it's never too late to be all you can possibly be.
These words have been passed along in loving memory of ROSE.
REMEMBER, GROWING OLDER IS MANDATORY. GROWING UP IS OPTIONAL. We make a Living by what we get, We make a Life by what we give.
God promises a safe landing, not a calm passage. If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it.
'Good friends are like stars........You don't always see them, but you know they are always there.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Live for Others ...
My wife called, 'How long will you be with that newspaper? Will you come here and make your darling daughter eat her food?
I tossed the paper away and rushed to the scene. My only daughter Sindu looked frightened; tears were welling up in her eyes. In front of her was a bowl filled to its brim with curd rice. Sindu is a nice child, quite intelligent for her age.
I cleared my throat, and picked up the bowl. 'Sindu, darling, why don't you take a few mouthful of this curd rice? Just for Dad's sake, dear.
Sindu softened a bit, and wiped her tears with the back of her hands. "Ok, Dad. I will eat - not just a few mouthfuls, but the whole lot of this. But, you should...' Sindu hesitated. 'Dad, if I eat this entire curd Rice, will you give me whatever I ask for?'
'Promise'. I covered the pink soft hand extended by my daughter with mine, and clinched the deal. Now I became a bit anxious. 'Sindu dear, you shouldn't insist on getting a computer or any such expensive items. Dad does not have that kind of money right now. Ok?'
'No, Dad. I do not want anything expensive'. Slowly and painfully, she finished eating the whole quantity.
I was silently angry with my wife and my mother for forcing my child to eat something that she detested.
After the ordeal was through, Sindu came to me with her eyes wide with expectation. All our attention was on her.
'Dad, I want to have my head shaved off, this Sunday!' was her demand.
'Atrocious!' shouted my wife, 'A girl child having her head shaved off? Impossible!' 'Never in our family!' My mother rasped. 'She has been watching too much of television. Our culture is getting totally spoiled with these TV programs!'
'Sindu darling, why don't you ask for something else? We will be sad seeing you with a clean-shaven head.'
'Please, Sindu, why don't you try to understand our feelings?' I tried to plead with her.
'Dad, you saw how difficult it was for me to eat that Curd Rice'. Sindu was in tears. 'And you promised to grant me whatever I ask for. Now, you are going back on your words. Was it not you who told me the story of King Harishchandra, and its moral that we should honor our promises no matter what?'
It was time for me to call the shots. 'Our promise must be kept.'
'Are you out of your mind?' chorused my mother and wife.
'No. If we go back on our promises, she will never learn to honor her own. Sindu, your wish will be fulfilled.'
With her head clean-shaven, Sindu had a round-face, and her eyes looked big and beautiful.
On Monday morning, I dropped her at her school. It was a sight to watch my hairless Sindu walking towards her classroom. She turned around and waved. I waved back with a smile. Just then, a boy alighted from a car, and shouted, 'Sinduja, please wait for me!' What struck me was the hairless head of that boy. 'May be, that is the in-stuff', I thought.
'Sir, your daughter Sinduja is great indeed!' Without introducing herself, a lady got out of the car, and continued,' that boy who is walking along with your daughter is my son Harish. He is suffering from... leukemia.' She paused to muffle her sobs. Harish could not attend the school for the whole of the last month. He lost all his hair due to the side effects of the chemotherapy.. He refused to come back to school fearing the unintentional but cruel teasing of the schoolmates. 'Sinduja visited him last week, and promised him that she will take care of the teasing issue. But, I never imagined she would sacrifice her lovely hair for the sake of my son! Sir, you and your wife are blessed to have such a noble soul as your daughter.'
I stood transfixed and then, I wept. 'My little Angel, you are teaching me how self-less real love is!'
The happiest people on this planet are not those who live on their own terms but are those who change their terms for others & inspire others.
My wife called, 'How long will you be with that newspaper? Will you come here and make your darling daughter eat her food?
I tossed the paper away and rushed to the scene. My only daughter Sindu looked frightened; tears were welling up in her eyes. In front of her was a bowl filled to its brim with curd rice. Sindu is a nice child, quite intelligent for her age.
I cleared my throat, and picked up the bowl. 'Sindu, darling, why don't you take a few mouthful of this curd rice? Just for Dad's sake, dear.
Sindu softened a bit, and wiped her tears with the back of her hands. "Ok, Dad. I will eat - not just a few mouthfuls, but the whole lot of this. But, you should...' Sindu hesitated. 'Dad, if I eat this entire curd Rice, will you give me whatever I ask for?'
'Promise'. I covered the pink soft hand extended by my daughter with mine, and clinched the deal. Now I became a bit anxious. 'Sindu dear, you shouldn't insist on getting a computer or any such expensive items. Dad does not have that kind of money right now. Ok?'
'No, Dad. I do not want anything expensive'. Slowly and painfully, she finished eating the whole quantity.
I was silently angry with my wife and my mother for forcing my child to eat something that she detested.
After the ordeal was through, Sindu came to me with her eyes wide with expectation. All our attention was on her.
'Dad, I want to have my head shaved off, this Sunday!' was her demand.
'Atrocious!' shouted my wife, 'A girl child having her head shaved off? Impossible!' 'Never in our family!' My mother rasped. 'She has been watching too much of television. Our culture is getting totally spoiled with these TV programs!'
'Sindu darling, why don't you ask for something else? We will be sad seeing you with a clean-shaven head.'
'Please, Sindu, why don't you try to understand our feelings?' I tried to plead with her.
'Dad, you saw how difficult it was for me to eat that Curd Rice'. Sindu was in tears. 'And you promised to grant me whatever I ask for. Now, you are going back on your words. Was it not you who told me the story of King Harishchandra, and its moral that we should honor our promises no matter what?'
It was time for me to call the shots. 'Our promise must be kept.'
'Are you out of your mind?' chorused my mother and wife.
'No. If we go back on our promises, she will never learn to honor her own. Sindu, your wish will be fulfilled.'
With her head clean-shaven, Sindu had a round-face, and her eyes looked big and beautiful.
On Monday morning, I dropped her at her school. It was a sight to watch my hairless Sindu walking towards her classroom. She turned around and waved. I waved back with a smile. Just then, a boy alighted from a car, and shouted, 'Sinduja, please wait for me!' What struck me was the hairless head of that boy. 'May be, that is the in-stuff', I thought.
'Sir, your daughter Sinduja is great indeed!' Without introducing herself, a lady got out of the car, and continued,' that boy who is walking along with your daughter is my son Harish. He is suffering from... leukemia.' She paused to muffle her sobs. Harish could not attend the school for the whole of the last month. He lost all his hair due to the side effects of the chemotherapy.. He refused to come back to school fearing the unintentional but cruel teasing of the schoolmates. 'Sinduja visited him last week, and promised him that she will take care of the teasing issue. But, I never imagined she would sacrifice her lovely hair for the sake of my son! Sir, you and your wife are blessed to have such a noble soul as your daughter.'
I stood transfixed and then, I wept. 'My little Angel, you are teaching me how self-less real love is!'
The happiest people on this planet are not those who live on their own terms but are those who change their terms for others & inspire others.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
The woman in your life...........................
Tomorrow you may get a working woman, but you should marry with these facts as well.
Here is a girl, who is as much educated as you are;
Who is earning almost as much as you do;
One, who has dreams and aspirations just as you have, because she is as human as you are;
One, who has never entered the kitchen in her life just like you or your Sister haven't, as she was busy in studies and competing in a system that gives no special concession to girls for their culinary achievements
One, who has lived and loved her parents & brothers & sisters, almost as much as you do for 20-25 years of her life;
One, who has bravely agreed to leave behind all that, her home, people who love her, to adopt your home, your family, your ways and even your family ,name;
One, who is somehow expected to be a master-chef from day #1, while you sleep oblivious to her predicament in her new circumstances, environment and that kitchen;
One, who is expected to make the tea, first thing in the morning and cook food at the end of the day, even if she is as tired as you are, maybe more, and yet never ever expected to complain; to be a servant, a cook, a mother, a wife, even if she doesn't want to;
and is learning just like you are as to what you want from her; and is clumsy and sloppy at times and knows that you won't like it if she is too demanding, or if she learns faster than you;
One, who has her own set of friends, and that includes boys and even men at her workplace too, those, who she knows from school days and yet is willing to put all that on the back-burners to avoid your irrational jealousy, unnecessary competition and your inherent insecurities;
Yes, she can drink and dance just as well as you can, but won't, simply because you won't like it, even though you say otherwise;
One, who can be late from work once in a while when deadlines, just like yours, are to be met;
One, who is doing her level best and wants to make this most important relationship in her entire life a grand success, if you just help her some and trust her;
One, who just wants one thing from you, as you are the only one she knows in your entire house - your unstinted support, your sensitivities and most importantly - your understanding, or love, if you may call it.
Tomorrow you may get a working woman, but you should marry with these facts as well.
Here is a girl, who is as much educated as you are;
Who is earning almost as much as you do;
One, who has dreams and aspirations just as you have, because she is as human as you are;
One, who has never entered the kitchen in her life just like you or your Sister haven't, as she was busy in studies and competing in a system that gives no special concession to girls for their culinary achievements
One, who has lived and loved her parents & brothers & sisters, almost as much as you do for 20-25 years of her life;
One, who has bravely agreed to leave behind all that, her home, people who love her, to adopt your home, your family, your ways and even your family ,name;
One, who is somehow expected to be a master-chef from day #1, while you sleep oblivious to her predicament in her new circumstances, environment and that kitchen;
One, who is expected to make the tea, first thing in the morning and cook food at the end of the day, even if she is as tired as you are, maybe more, and yet never ever expected to complain; to be a servant, a cook, a mother, a wife, even if she doesn't want to;
and is learning just like you are as to what you want from her; and is clumsy and sloppy at times and knows that you won't like it if she is too demanding, or if she learns faster than you;
One, who has her own set of friends, and that includes boys and even men at her workplace too, those, who she knows from school days and yet is willing to put all that on the back-burners to avoid your irrational jealousy, unnecessary competition and your inherent insecurities;
Yes, she can drink and dance just as well as you can, but won't, simply because you won't like it, even though you say otherwise;
One, who can be late from work once in a while when deadlines, just like yours, are to be met;
One, who is doing her level best and wants to make this most important relationship in her entire life a grand success, if you just help her some and trust her;
One, who just wants one thing from you, as you are the only one she knows in your entire house - your unstinted support, your sensitivities and most importantly - your understanding, or love, if you may call it.
Friday, June 5, 2009
All the troubles of the world are because of warped intelligence and wicked activity. That is why after diagnosing the cause of a disease, it should be attacked at its very roots. The best method of social-service is to rescue the people from lowly thinking and activity and direct them towards excellence. If people change their method, then on the strength of their tremendous inner capacity, they themselves can solve their backwardness and difficulties.
We should co-operate in directing their activities on to the good moral path. They should be led with such qualitative leadership that they will give up their destructive activities and themselves start taking interest in constructive works. The only way to self -development is that we spread our friendliness in a wider area. By considering others’ happiness as ours and their sorrow too as ours, let us think and act to reduce their sorrow and increase their happiness.
No man has that much capacity that he will employ all his wealth in removing others’ wants. Neither can the 24 hours of the day be employed for public-service. Even then, there should be a strong sentiment that after fulfilling our minimum requirements, all the remnants should be dedicated for the removal of societal backwardness, difficulties, wants and grief.
To-day the world has discarded the robe of excellence and replaced it with the cloak of meanness. Life itself has become hellish because of the entry of meanness in our method of thinking and working. Gradually we are proceeding towards collective suicide by being busy in internal squabbles, quarrels in homes, and mutual torture.
In such a situation, human race can be served in only one way, that is, it should be saved from illusory, indiscreet and immoral thinking and prepared to develop logical discretion and to take shelter of pure intelligence. In today’s situation, that is the greatest service to the society.
By revolutionary thinking, the current miserable condition can be changed and heaven made to descend on earth. There is unlimited strength in purity of thinking. Whenever thinking is done on any subject with purity in viewpoint, then a situation can be assessed in an impartial and neutral way and any decision taken is also in the interest of all.
Divinity is the natural quality in men which they have received right from their childhood. This divinity gradually gets lost only because of polluted thinking. Therefore refinement and purity in thinking is extremely necessary. Only those men are able to rouse discretionary thinking in people, who establish idealistic thinking for moral regeneration. It is our pious duty to include this excellence in our character.
Religiousness means religious conduct. To respect religion in every field oft life, to follow the injunctions of religion, is itself called religious conduct. ‘Dharma’ not only means religion (as regards spiritual science and worship), but it has several other meanings including ‘moral duty’; but unfortunately politicians and the so-called intellectuals are twisting the interpretation of the word ‘dharma’ to suit their selfish ends. In reality religion is beneficial to man in every field. The question of narrowness does not at all arise in religion. In fact religion contributes to a wide and vast viewpoint. Real religion does not talk of putting blindfolds on the eyes, but enjoins us to remove them. No religion produces jealousy, malice and such perversities. Religion in the real moral sense creates an atmosphere of good thinking and love. Religion and humanity are mutually complementary.
Man can never remain without religion, and religion cannot remain anywhere except in man. Religion means a rule for carrying out one’s responsibility, in other words, ‘self-accepted imposition for achieving excellence’. Every field of activity has its own ‘dharma’ such as, teacher’s dharma, student’s dharma, people’s dharma, leader’s dharma, soldier’s dharma, servant’s dharma, father’s dharma, women’s dharma etc. Religion does not mean mere worship or rituals.
Dharma is a symbol of the entire life, because it pervades every aspect of life. Dharma is good activities, good deeds and truthful conduct. A ‘dharmik’ man is a man of good conduct, is satisfied, quiet (at peace), disciplined and restrained. Never does he get angry, has no malice, does not ridicule others, nor disrespect others. His main qualities are mental purity, truthfulness in conduct and excellent sentiments-for public-welfare. A religious man does not show off his religion. He is busy in his duties with a quiet and unselfish attitude. He relies upon excellence in thinking and simplicity in life. He always utilizes his total capacity and insight for deeds of public-welfare and removes the obstacles in the path with patience and firmness. A life of simplicity propounds the ideal of high thinking. Prosperity lies
in simplicity only and in that only lies one’s reputation.
To disrespect religion is like discarding humanness and acknowledging animalness. For animals there is no religion except fulfilling the needs of their bodies. If an animal coming in the path creates an obstacle, then to drive it away with its horns, to frighten it or to kill it ( i.e. selfish survival) is the only ‘dharma’ of animals. Animals do not have a sense of respect, sentiments, discretion, tradition, society and culture. These exist for man only and therefore at every step in life he has to conduct himself according to the rules laid down in religion. The essence of religion lies only in obliging or helping others, mutual co-operation, compassion, and living together. Conduct according to the rules laid down in the religion is the only basis for excellent character.
!!! Will Continue !!!
Monday, June 1, 2009
Eight Children were standing on the track to participate in the running event.
* Ready! * Steady! * Bang !!!
With the sound of Toy pistol , all eight girls started running.
Hardly have they covered ten to fifteen steps , one of the smaller girl's slipped and fell down, due to bruises and pain she started crying.
When other seven girls heard this sound, stopped running, stood for a while and turned back, they all ran back to the place where the girl fell down.
One among them bent, picked and kissed the girl gently and enquired 'Now pain must have reduced'. All seven girls lifted the fallen girl, pacified her, two of them held the girl firmly and they all seven joined hands together and walked together and reached the winning post.
Officials were shocked . Clapping of thousands of spectators filled the stadium. Many eyes were filled with tears and perhaps it had reached the GOD even!
YES. This happened in Hyderabad [ INDIA ], recently!
The sport was conducted by National Institute of Mental Health.
All these special girls had come to participate in this event and they are spastic children.
Yes, they were Mentally Retarded Challenged.
* Ready! * Steady! * Bang !!!
With the sound of Toy pistol , all eight girls started running.
Hardly have they covered ten to fifteen steps , one of the smaller girl's slipped and fell down, due to bruises and pain she started crying.
When other seven girls heard this sound, stopped running, stood for a while and turned back, they all ran back to the place where the girl fell down.
One among them bent, picked and kissed the girl gently and enquired 'Now pain must have reduced'. All seven girls lifted the fallen girl, pacified her, two of them held the girl firmly and they all seven joined hands together and walked together and reached the winning post.
Officials were shocked . Clapping of thousands of spectators filled the stadium. Many eyes were filled with tears and perhaps it had reached the GOD even!
YES. This happened in Hyderabad [ INDIA ], recently!
The sport was conducted by National Institute of Mental Health.
All these special girls had come to participate in this event and they are spastic children.
Yes, they were Mentally Retarded Challenged.
What did they teach this world?
- Teamwork?
- Humanity?
- Equality among all? Huh?
Successful people help others who are slow in learning so that they are not left far behind.
We can't do this ever because we have brains!!!!!!!!!
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