LiFe

God created the dog and said:

'Sit all day by the door of your house and bark at anyone who comes in or walks past. For this, I will give you a life span of twenty years.'

The dog said: 'That's a long time to be barking. How about only ten years and I'll give you back the other ten?'

So God agreed.

God created the monkey and said:

'Entertain people, do tricks, and make them laugh. For this, I'll give you a twenty-year life span.'

The monkey said: 'Monkey tricks for twenty years? That's a pretty long time to perform. How about I give you back ten like the Dog did?'

And God agreed..

God created the cow and said:

'You must go into the field with the farmer all day long and suffer under the sun, have calves and give milk to support the farmer's family. For this, I will give you a life span of sixty years.'

The cow said: 'That's kind of a tough life you want me to live for sixty years. How about twenty and I'll give back the other forty?'

And God agreed again.

God created man and said:

'Eat, sleep, play, marry, and enjoy your life. For this, I'll give you twenty years.'

But man said: 'Only twenty years? Could you possibly give me my twenty, the forty the cow gave back, the ten the monkey gave back, and have the ten the dog gave back; that makes eighty, okay?'


'Okay,' said God, 'You asked for it.'


So that is why for our first twenty years we eat, sleep, play and enjoy ourselves. For the next forty years we slave in the sun to support our family. For the next ten years we do monkey tricks to entertain the grandchildren. And for the last ten years we sit on the front porch and bark at everyone.


Life has now been explained to you.

All that Glitters is not Gold

Matto pressed his face close to the plate glass window of one of the well known shoe stores of the city and stared longingly at the pair of brown brogues which rested so invitingly, very close to him but inside the window for public display. It was not the first time that Matto had done this. Everyday for the last week or so, on his way to work and back home, he would stop by this shoe store, stare wistfully at this same pair of shoes with a sale price written on a slip tagged to it.

Matto was an employee in the lower rung services of the Municipal Corporation. He swept pavements and removed litter from the streets. His monthly allowance was barely enough to make both ends meet. So in his wildest dreams he could not even think of affording the luxury of a costly pair of shoes. It, however gave him a feeling of immense satisfaction just to feast his eyes on the elegant pair of shoes, its perfect symmetry and the shimmering grace of this one particular pair.

Matto was in love. He was hopelessly in love with the beautiful pair of brown shoes. He could not remember being so irrestibly drawn to anything else in life. As he now stood before the display window after having completed his day’s chores, he felt concerned and alarmed. He saw a customer come up to the shop window and nod approvingly at the same pair of shoes with which Matto was completely obsessed with. 

Matto felt a stab of pain in his heart. It was as if someone very near and dear to him was being forcefully taken away and yet he could do nothing. To get a better view of the pair, he shifted his position and cupped his hands, round his face against the window-pane for a better view. The shop was brilliantly lit with neon light. He could easily spot the customer at the trial seat and the salesman slipping the shoes on. He fervently hoped that the customer would complain that they did not fit well and thus, the pair would be back on the shop window. But to his dismay, the customer did find it fitting and purchased the pair.

The customer picked the cardboard box with the shoes in it and came out of the shop. He saw Matto lounging at the entrance. Taking him to be the delivery-man, he told him to carry the package for him and follow him. Matto obeyed him and silently walked behind him. Within a few minutes they reached the house where the customer lived. The man steeped inside since he could not find any change in his pocket to pay Matto, leaving him standing on the doorway.

Matto was simple, honest and had never been doubted fir his integrity. But at this moment a wild thumping started in his heart. The idea that he should exploit the absence of the stranger took place in his heart. He grabbed the box and took to his heels.

It took him a panicky hour to get to the dilapidated building where he lived. He was drenched in perspiration as he ran five flights of stairs to reach his quarters. Not only did he shut the door behind him, but also he bolted and latched it. His heart beat rapidly as he tore off the outer wrappings of the box. He flung open the lid. There lay in the box, the elegant pair of brown shoes he so longingly stared at. The treasure was his now.

Carefully and tenderly, he took out the shoes and gazed at them in awe, caressing the glistening brown leather. His eyes brimmed with tears of unexpected joy. After washing his feet thoroughly and soaking them dry hr tried on the pair. They were not quite a good fit. But it was nothing, he thought. A little paper packing at the heels did the trick and then he walked around the room.

Now a new thought struck Matto. Wearing those shoes in his role as a sweeper with torn clothes would arouse suspicion of his neighbours and pedestrians alike. He thought of procuring decent clothes that would go along with his shoes. Finding a suitable opportunity, he stole an impeccable western outfit from a draper. In his conscience, he knew that he had acted like a common thief but that thought was buried under the surging moment of happiness.

Never in his life had Matto experienced such exultation, such new emotions and thrills as when dressed in his new attire with the shoulders squared and head held high, as he walked with measured gait amidst the carefree crowds taking their evening stroll. 

To his surprise and joy, he found people coming in his direction made way for him as he tried to cut his way through the crowd. They even turned and glanced at him. Matto went to a restaurant and ordered a cup of coffee. He had taken all his savings with him. It was while at the middle of the coffee that he noticed a policeman lounging outside the fencing separating the restaurant from the street. The officer of the law casually happened to glance at Matto’s direction. Matto was seized with panic. Without further ado, he left the money at the table and beat a hasty retreat. He darted into the street when the policeman’s back was turned and therefore escape was easy. His heart was beating frantically. His mind was in a whirl. He saw other policemen about. He dodged them, the crowds, the traffic. In fact it seemed to him that the streets were filled with police personnel who were there to apprehend him. Gone were all the joys and dreams, hopes and thrills. He was haunted by the fearsome specter of his guilt and the enormity of his crime. Terror now gripped him and clawed on his senses. 

It was two o’ clock in the morning when Matto had that nightmare. He woke up screaming and begged for mercy. It was horrifying. He was handcuffed and now before the judge who sentenced him to three years of rigorous imprisonment.

At dawn, he approached the house where he had stolen the suit. From his canvas bag in which he carried the suit, he pulled it out and quickly shoved it back through an open window. An hour later, in another part of the city, he was at the place from where he had stolen the shoes. He quietly left the package at the doorstep. Then with deliberation, he pressed the door-bell thrice and dashed away. No sooner did he enter the adjacent street than he heaved a sigh of relief. He had redeemed himself.

Once again Matto was sweeping the pavements but he was a happy man now with a clear conscience. There was peace and tranquility inside him now. The brown brogues or the western outfit did not matter to him much now. He understood that he was disillusioned, which disturbed his mental peace.

So for him at least:

Not all that tempts your wandering eyes and heedless heart is lawful prize

Nor all that glitters gold……….

 

Clouds

The clouds are the playful fancies of a mighty sky

It is very delightful, sometimes to see a cloudless sky-a sky in which the sun shines brightly throughout the day. However there is no doubt that we shall grow tired and feel fed up if, day after day, there was nothing to vary the sameness of the sky, no cloud to give shape and variety. It would be as tedious as a journey through a desert, with its never-ending, never-changing miles of sand.

For most of the days of the year, we can see light, fleecy clouds,” mare’s tails”  as they are sometimes called or massive lumpy clouds hanging in the sky, like huge wool packs, or the bands of cloud that gather against the setting sun and disappear before the morning. The endless shapes and varying hues of clouds give us a sky wherein, the bard of Avon says,

Sometimes we see a cloud that is dragonish;

A vapour sometimes like a bear or lion,

A tower’d citadel, a pendent rock

A forked mountain or blue promontory,

With trees upon it that nod unto the world,

And mock our eyes with air.

Children are nearly always interested in clouds. There are two very frequent questions which they ask. How high are the clouds in the sky? What keeps them up? The mare’s tails are the highest of them all, higher than Mt. Everest, and as high as the vulture flies.

Storm clouds are, as a rule, are one and a half miles above the sea level. Lowest of all are the cloud bands that are gilded with the sunset colours and look picturesque.

So if a cloud were to describe itself, how would it be? Perhaps as Shelley has composed….

I am the daughter of earth and water

And the nursling of the sky;

I pass through the pores of the oceans and shores

I change but I cannot die.

For after the rain when with never a stain

The pavilion of heaven is bare

And the winds and sunbeams with never a convex gleam

Build up the blue dome of air

I silently laugh at my own cenotaph

And out of the caverns of rain,

Like a child from the womb,

Like a ghost from the tomb,

I arise and unbuild it again.

Superstition

Superstition is nothing but irrational belief in something.If a European believes that he is superior to  an Indian or a Chinese,he is anything but rational and so superstitious.If a pious Hindu believes that a dip in the holy Ganga will wash off his sins,as if the sins are oozing out of his body like beads of perspiration and so they will be washed off,he is superstitious and has no basis whatsoever in reason or common sense.It is often traditional,passed down by our predecessors to be transferred to our successors.

Superstitions throve in the past,in primitive times,when mystery surrounded man on all  sides and he could not rationally account for anything and everything that he observed.in a mood of reverent awe,he invented numerous gods and goddesses and endowed them with supernatural powers,so that they might do or undo anything in their respective spheres and save him from some impending peril.The modern generation scoffs at them,forgetting all the while that they are also not immune from superstition.Superstitions die hard,they are sent down the ages.Age is more fatalistic and superstitious than the youth.

A shooting star is considered to be an extremely ill omen everywhere

"When beggars die,there are no comets seen

The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes" 

The howling of a dog at night is supposed to indicate the presence of an evil spirit nearby.

Is there any rational explanation to this?The dog might be hungry,it might be in pain.....no no no..beware!!an evil spirit is lurking nearby and strangely enough only the dogs are able to fathom their existence!!!Really!!!

Here are some more popular superstitions.If one is about to start a journey,and another person happens to sneeze only once,it is very unfortunate.Strangely enough two or three sneezes are harmless.So is the logic or rather illogical logic behind these superstitions.It is ominous to undertake a journey or commence a new task on Tuesday or Saturday.If a cat intercepts you on your path or rushes past you on your proposed path,it is believed that you must come to grief.The screech of an owl is also considered ominous.

If a man's right eye or right limb throbs,it is a sign of good luck but if any of the left limbs is throbbing,it is set to bring misfortunes on him.Similarly itching in the right palm means more money for an individual,but if the whole body is itching it is time to consult a good dermatologist.The sight of a corpse or a full pitcher is deemed auspicious while embarking on a journey.If a crow or a vulture sits over someone's head the end of that person is imminent.But do someone in their correct senses allow a crow to sit on his/her head????obviously no,rather one would try to scare the pestilential bird away.

Then there are certain superstitions based on ghosts and spirits.Some houses are not fit for occupation because they are visited by ghosts.generally such houses are called haunted houses,the existence of which are very much doubtful.As for ghosts,a power of darkness conspires with a power of loneliness and both succeed in creating a ghost.To put it better,ghostly atmosphere paralyses the reason of man and arouses in him the dread of a subjective ghost which has no existence,whatsoever in space or time.Ghosts also have a knack of possessing people,women more than men.If a woman begins to burst into fits of hysteria,many an ignorant lady attribute the fact to the victim being possessed rather than tending proper medical care and attention to her.

Superstitions do act as a hindrance to our progress and constrain our thinking.A superstitious person is weak and vacillating by nature.He falters and staggers.He can never rise to the occasion.He cannot contribute anything useful to civilization.

Weakness,fear,melancholy together with ignorance are the true sources of superstition.We should try to break the shackles of age old beliefs and usher a new dawn for hope.It won't be possible overnight,but a sincere effort on everyone's part can at least diminish the ill-effects of superstitions.

MARRIAGE

When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand and said, I've got something to tell you. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.

Suddenly I didn't know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the topic calmly.
She didn't seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why?

I avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the spoon and shouted at me, you are not a man! That night, we didn't talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to Jane. I didn't love her anymore. I just pitied her!

With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company.
She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy but I could not take back what I had said for I loved Jane so dearly. Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now.

The next day, I came back home very late and found her writing something at the table. I didn't have supper but went straight to sleep and fell asleep very fast because I was tired after an eventful day with Jane.

When I woke up, she was still there at the table writing. I just did not care so I turned over and was asleep again.

In the morning she presented her divorce conditions: she didn't want anything from me, but needed a month's notice before the divorce. She requested that in that one month we both struggle to live as normal a life as possible. Her reasons were simple: our son had his exams in a month's time and she didn't want to disrupt him with our broken marriage.

This was agreeable to me. But she had something more, she asked me to recall how I had carried her into out bridal room on our wedding day.
She requested that every day for the month's duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door ever morning. I thought she was going crazy. Just to make our last days together bearable I accepted her odd request.

I told Jane about my wife's divorce conditions. . She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she applies, she has to face the divorce, she said scornfully.

My wife and I hadn't had any physical contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mommy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly; don't tell our son about the divorce. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outsidethe door. She went to wait for the bus to work. I drove alone to the office.

On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. I could smell the fragrance of her perfume. I realized that I hadn't looked at this woman carefully for a long time. I realized she was not young any more. There were fine wrinkles on her face, her hair was graying! Our marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute I wondered what I had done to her.

On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me.
On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was growing again. I didn't tell Jane about this. It became easier to carry her as the month slipped by. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger.

She was choosing what to wear one morning. She tried on quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger. I suddenly realized that she had grown so thin, that was the reason why I could carry her more easily.

Suddenly it hit me... she had buried so much pain and bitterness in her heart. Subconsciously I reached out and touched her head.

Our son came in at the moment and said, Dad, it's time to carry mom out. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an essential part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change my mind at this last minute. I then held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly; it was just like our wedding day.

But her much lighter weight made me sad. On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. I held her tightly and said, I hadn't noticed that our life lacked intimacy.
I drove to office.... jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my mind...I walked upstairs. Jane opened the door and I said to her, Sorry, Jane, I do not want the divorce anymore.

She looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead. Do you have a fever? She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Jane, I said, I won't divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn't value the details of our lives, not because we didn't love each other anymore. Now I realize that since I carried her into my home on our wedding day I am supposed to hold her until death do us apart.
Jane seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove away.

At the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, I'll carry you out every morning until death do us apart.

That evening I arrived home, flowers in my hands, a smile on my face, I run up stairs, only to find my wife in the bed - dead.
My wife had been fighting CANCER for months and I was so busy with Jane to even notice. She knew that she would die soon and she wanted to save me from the whatever negative reaction from our son, in case we push thru with the divorce.-- At least, in the eyes of our son--- I'm a loving husband....

The small details of your lives are what really matter in a relationship. It is not the mansion, the car, property, the money in the bank. These create an environment conducive for happiness but cannot give happiness in themselves. So find time to be your spouse's friend and do those little things for each other that build intimacy. Do have a real happy marriage!

The Noticeable Note

The Notice: Please Notice!

You may have noticed
the increased amount of notices
for your to notice.

We have noticed that some of
our notices have not been noticed.
This is very noticeable.

It has been noticed that the
response to the notices have
been noticeably unnoticeable.

Therefore, this notice is to
remind you to notice the
notices and to respond to
the notices because we do
not want to notice to
go unnoticed.

- From the Noticing Notice officer.