only 1411 tigers in india..
my grandfather says he saw tiger in the woods
my dad says he saw them in reserved forests
i have seen tigers in the zoo
where will my child c??????????
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
IF TOMORROW NEVA COMES?...????....
I M SCARED.For da 1st tym in my lyf m really scared.For the security f those i luv and care 4 and mayb for the 1st tym ever,even scared 4 those I dnt no at all.For the Pune n Mumbai carnage has shown dt i cn feel 4 and emphathise deeply wid even those who r just names and stories in the media 4 me....
i hv realised wid ease wid wich 100s of lives cn b ended,da absolute fragility f lyf.Its true dat no1 cn ever b adequately prepared 4 da final reckonin.Well,nt unless u hv livd a rather full and fullfillin lyf dat hs taken u well into old age.Mayb then.Or,mayb nt even then...none f the dead wud hv imagined that they wud nvr see their luvd ones again..nor gt tym to wrap up their lives..
in the blinkin f an eye,so many lives ended n many more changed forever.Its only wen we truly understnd dat we've limited tym on earth-and dat v hv no ay f knowin wen our tym is up-dat v will begin 2 liv each day 2 da fullest as if it were the only 1 we had.
IF anything,dat shud b our biggest learning frm these incidents.If that's how fragile lyf is the only way u cn trust ur own moment 2 the oder is havin no regrets.Regret is smthn none f us wud lyk 2 exit lyf wid n the bst way out f that is 2 kip the slate clean always.
We wud all lyk 2 b rememberd but certainly not for the iadequacies or incomplete work we leave bhind.Ech f us wud lyk to leave bhind happy memories.And 2 work on creatin those v need 2 start now.NOT tomorro.Not even a minute later.NOW IS THE MOMENT!!
It's imprtnt 2 ensure dat those we love realise the depth of our feelings,those we harmed know that we regret it and importnt dat we tk adequate measures 4 da protection of dose in our care.Y leave off till tomorrow wot u cn do today?Y leave it anoder minute longer 2 tell your dear ones u luv them?Y delay tellin a friend how much u value her/him?Y leave off showin ur appreciation 2 ur acquaintance?Y put off that heartfelt apology till its mayb too late?..............
So if u r waiting 4 tomoro,y nt do it today?...For if tomoro neva cmes,u will surely regret the day.Dat u didnt tk the extra tym 4 a smile,hug or a kiss n were too busy 2 grant sm1 wat turned out 2 b their last wish....
Our biggest tribute 2 those who lost their lives is by ensuring we live ours in the best possible manner.To develop our potential 2 the fullest n b aware of wot goes on around us.For knowledge is power.
And in that context,the most touchin tribute 2 those dead is the anger of the livin,the refusal to 'forgive and forget'.not bcoz there's nething rong wid forgivin n forgettin but bcoz the remembered pain and the ache of betrayal will spur us on to action...an action dat will ensure better lives for all of us and the future generations....
I M SCARED.For da 1st tym in my lyf m really scared.For the security f those i luv and care 4 and mayb for the 1st tym ever,even scared 4 those I dnt no at all.For the Pune n Mumbai carnage has shown dt i cn feel 4 and emphathise deeply wid even those who r just names and stories in the media 4 me....
i hv realised wid ease wid wich 100s of lives cn b ended,da absolute fragility f lyf.Its true dat no1 cn ever b adequately prepared 4 da final reckonin.Well,nt unless u hv livd a rather full and fullfillin lyf dat hs taken u well into old age.Mayb then.Or,mayb nt even then...none f the dead wud hv imagined that they wud nvr see their luvd ones again..nor gt tym to wrap up their lives..
in the blinkin f an eye,so many lives ended n many more changed forever.Its only wen we truly understnd dat we've limited tym on earth-and dat v hv no ay f knowin wen our tym is up-dat v will begin 2 liv each day 2 da fullest as if it were the only 1 we had.
IF anything,dat shud b our biggest learning frm these incidents.If that's how fragile lyf is the only way u cn trust ur own moment 2 the oder is havin no regrets.Regret is smthn none f us wud lyk 2 exit lyf wid n the bst way out f that is 2 kip the slate clean always.
We wud all lyk 2 b rememberd but certainly not for the iadequacies or incomplete work we leave bhind.Ech f us wud lyk to leave bhind happy memories.And 2 work on creatin those v need 2 start now.NOT tomorro.Not even a minute later.NOW IS THE MOMENT!!
It's imprtnt 2 ensure dat those we love realise the depth of our feelings,those we harmed know that we regret it and importnt dat we tk adequate measures 4 da protection of dose in our care.Y leave off till tomorrow wot u cn do today?Y leave it anoder minute longer 2 tell your dear ones u luv them?Y delay tellin a friend how much u value her/him?Y leave off showin ur appreciation 2 ur acquaintance?Y put off that heartfelt apology till its mayb too late?..............
So if u r waiting 4 tomoro,y nt do it today?...For if tomoro neva cmes,u will surely regret the day.Dat u didnt tk the extra tym 4 a smile,hug or a kiss n were too busy 2 grant sm1 wat turned out 2 b their last wish....
Our biggest tribute 2 those who lost their lives is by ensuring we live ours in the best possible manner.To develop our potential 2 the fullest n b aware of wot goes on around us.For knowledge is power.
And in that context,the most touchin tribute 2 those dead is the anger of the livin,the refusal to 'forgive and forget'.not bcoz there's nething rong wid forgivin n forgettin but bcoz the remembered pain and the ache of betrayal will spur us on to action...an action dat will ensure better lives for all of us and the future generations....
Friday, May 9, 2008
Chris' Diary
Here's an interesting story---I read it somewhere and thought of sharing it here.
It had been raining for more than a week, so much rain it made everyday seemed so restless and gloomy. She called and said she was coming up. It was the third time she came up to see me that week. I carried her excuse of why she came all the way here and went to meet her at the nearby seven-eleven. She was standing there alone, carrying her red umbrella. Her friend had dropped her off. It was raining and she was shivering. She looked weak and fragile in the harsh rain, wearing not enough to keep her warm.I walked up to her and said, "You shouldn't come see me anymore," and stuff like how we shouldn't be together.She said, "I miss you."I told her coldly, "Lets go, I'll take you home."She did not open up her umbrella, I knew she wanted to share mine.I said, "Open up your umbrella, let's go."Unwillingly, She opened up her umbrella and walked with me to the car. She said she hadn't eat lunch or dinner and asked if we could stop at some place to eat.Right away I answered with a stoned heart, "No!"Disappointed, she asked me to take her to the train station, she said she would take the train back home.Maybe it was the rain, all the trains were full of people with umbrellas and suit cases who were eager to get home, not caring about who just passed by. We waited and waited, she looked at me innocently. Being together for so long, of course I knew what she meant. I understand how she must feel when she came all this way here in this kind of weather and I treat her like this. With her soft eyes staring at me, I felt guilt and wanted to let her stay for the night.But reality struck again, I said to her coldly, "Let's go try the other train station."We were living in the same apartment building, on the same floor. Back then there were four of us, and we got along well. We would always eat dinner together, watch movies, and sometimes go camping. We were more like a family, but I didn't know I would end up falling in love with the only girl of the four. Maybe it was during the last year of college, having living together for two years, we developed deep feelings for each other. After she graduated she went back home, and I stayed for one more year to finish school. During that year I was only able to take the train down to see her on holidays, but never for long. That was how we kept the treasured relationship.We were walking along the side of the road. She was in front of me and I was right behind her. Her umbrella had a broken spoke. She looked liked a wounded soldier, carrying her rusted rifle walking weakly. Many times, she was too into thinking or whatever she was doing, drifting off the road, she almost got hit by the cars passing by. I wanted to just take her in my arms, but with the love I had for her and the constant pain in my stomach, I did nothing. On the way, we passed by the park where we use to always go.She begged and said, "Lets go in the park just for a little while please, I promise I'll go home right after this."With her begging, my cold heart softened, but I still put up an annoyed face and walked in the park. I was just sitting on the benches looking like I wanted to leave. She went to the big oak tree and she was looking for something. I knew she was looking for what we wrote on that tree with a silver ink pen half a year ago. If I remember it right, it said, "Chris and Susan was here, Chris had tea and Susan was drinking hot chocolate. Hope Chris and Susan would always remember this day, always loving each other, forever." She was looking around for quite a while, then she came back slowly with tears on her face.She said, "Chris, I can't find it, it's not there anymore."I felt so sour inside, there was a stream of pain, flowing into my heart, the kind of pain I've never felt before. But all I could do was pretend I didn't care, and said, "Can we go now?"I opened up my big black umbrella, she was just standing there, didn't want to leave yet, hoping there was still a chance. She said, "You made up the story of you and that other girl didn't you? I know I frustrate you sometimes, but I'll change, can't we start over?"I didn't say a word, just looked down and shook my head. After that we just kept on walking towards the train station, didn't say a word to each other.Four years ago, the doctor said I had cancer, but it was found early, so it was still curable. Thinking that it was okay, I started living my normal life again, and even forgot about the cancer. I didn't think about the cancer again and did not go back to the doctor. Until a month ago, my stomach was hurting for two weeks straight, and the nightmare awakened me again. First I thought the pain wouldl go away, but it grew stronger until to the point that I couldn't take it anymore. I went back to the doctor and took an X-ray. The picture came out and there was a big black spot, which proved the truth that I did not want to believe. I was at the most glittering part of my life, but it was coming to an end. I wanted myself and the people around me to go through the least pain possible, so I decided to commit suicide. But I couldn't let people find out about my intentions, especially Susan, the person I love the most in this whole world, who still doesn't know about the truth. Susan was still young, she shouldn't have to go through this. So I made up some stories and lied to her. It was a cruel thing to do, and it broke her heart, but it was the fastest way to wipe out three years's feelings. I didn't have much time, because I would soon start to loose hair and she would find out eventually. But now I'm close to succeeding, this drama would soon be over. Thirty minutes more this would all come to an end, that was what I had in mind.The train had stopped running so I called a taxi for her. We were just standing there, waiting, loosing our last moments in silence.I saw the taxi from far away, I held my tears and said to her, "Take care of yourself, take good care of yourself."She didn't talk, just nodded lightly, and then opened up her misshaped umbrella and stepped out on the street. Out in the rain, we became two single life forms, one red, one black, so far away from each other. I opened the door for her and she got in, then I close the gate that would separate me from her forever. I stood by the car, staring in the dark window, at the first love in my life, also the last one, walking out of my life. The car started, driving into the street. Finally I couldn't hold my sorrow and the twist in my heart any longer, waving my arms rapidly chasing after the taxi, because I knew, this would be the last time I see her. I wanted to tell her I still love her, I wanted to tell her to stay, I wanted to tell her so much, but the taxi had already turned in the corner. Warm tears kept falling down my face, blended with the cold rain drops. I was cold, not because of the rain. I was cold inside.She left, and I didn't get anymore of her phone calls even until today. I know she didn't see my tears, because they were washed away by the rain. I left without regrets. But I'm not Chris, I'm that girl Susan, using my memory, and his diary I found after one year since he left, writing down these last words.
It had been raining for more than a week, so much rain it made everyday seemed so restless and gloomy. She called and said she was coming up. It was the third time she came up to see me that week. I carried her excuse of why she came all the way here and went to meet her at the nearby seven-eleven. She was standing there alone, carrying her red umbrella. Her friend had dropped her off. It was raining and she was shivering. She looked weak and fragile in the harsh rain, wearing not enough to keep her warm.I walked up to her and said, "You shouldn't come see me anymore," and stuff like how we shouldn't be together.She said, "I miss you."I told her coldly, "Lets go, I'll take you home."She did not open up her umbrella, I knew she wanted to share mine.I said, "Open up your umbrella, let's go."Unwillingly, She opened up her umbrella and walked with me to the car. She said she hadn't eat lunch or dinner and asked if we could stop at some place to eat.Right away I answered with a stoned heart, "No!"Disappointed, she asked me to take her to the train station, she said she would take the train back home.Maybe it was the rain, all the trains were full of people with umbrellas and suit cases who were eager to get home, not caring about who just passed by. We waited and waited, she looked at me innocently. Being together for so long, of course I knew what she meant. I understand how she must feel when she came all this way here in this kind of weather and I treat her like this. With her soft eyes staring at me, I felt guilt and wanted to let her stay for the night.But reality struck again, I said to her coldly, "Let's go try the other train station."We were living in the same apartment building, on the same floor. Back then there were four of us, and we got along well. We would always eat dinner together, watch movies, and sometimes go camping. We were more like a family, but I didn't know I would end up falling in love with the only girl of the four. Maybe it was during the last year of college, having living together for two years, we developed deep feelings for each other. After she graduated she went back home, and I stayed for one more year to finish school. During that year I was only able to take the train down to see her on holidays, but never for long. That was how we kept the treasured relationship.We were walking along the side of the road. She was in front of me and I was right behind her. Her umbrella had a broken spoke. She looked liked a wounded soldier, carrying her rusted rifle walking weakly. Many times, she was too into thinking or whatever she was doing, drifting off the road, she almost got hit by the cars passing by. I wanted to just take her in my arms, but with the love I had for her and the constant pain in my stomach, I did nothing. On the way, we passed by the park where we use to always go.She begged and said, "Lets go in the park just for a little while please, I promise I'll go home right after this."With her begging, my cold heart softened, but I still put up an annoyed face and walked in the park. I was just sitting on the benches looking like I wanted to leave. She went to the big oak tree and she was looking for something. I knew she was looking for what we wrote on that tree with a silver ink pen half a year ago. If I remember it right, it said, "Chris and Susan was here, Chris had tea and Susan was drinking hot chocolate. Hope Chris and Susan would always remember this day, always loving each other, forever." She was looking around for quite a while, then she came back slowly with tears on her face.She said, "Chris, I can't find it, it's not there anymore."I felt so sour inside, there was a stream of pain, flowing into my heart, the kind of pain I've never felt before. But all I could do was pretend I didn't care, and said, "Can we go now?"I opened up my big black umbrella, she was just standing there, didn't want to leave yet, hoping there was still a chance. She said, "You made up the story of you and that other girl didn't you? I know I frustrate you sometimes, but I'll change, can't we start over?"I didn't say a word, just looked down and shook my head. After that we just kept on walking towards the train station, didn't say a word to each other.Four years ago, the doctor said I had cancer, but it was found early, so it was still curable. Thinking that it was okay, I started living my normal life again, and even forgot about the cancer. I didn't think about the cancer again and did not go back to the doctor. Until a month ago, my stomach was hurting for two weeks straight, and the nightmare awakened me again. First I thought the pain wouldl go away, but it grew stronger until to the point that I couldn't take it anymore. I went back to the doctor and took an X-ray. The picture came out and there was a big black spot, which proved the truth that I did not want to believe. I was at the most glittering part of my life, but it was coming to an end. I wanted myself and the people around me to go through the least pain possible, so I decided to commit suicide. But I couldn't let people find out about my intentions, especially Susan, the person I love the most in this whole world, who still doesn't know about the truth. Susan was still young, she shouldn't have to go through this. So I made up some stories and lied to her. It was a cruel thing to do, and it broke her heart, but it was the fastest way to wipe out three years's feelings. I didn't have much time, because I would soon start to loose hair and she would find out eventually. But now I'm close to succeeding, this drama would soon be over. Thirty minutes more this would all come to an end, that was what I had in mind.The train had stopped running so I called a taxi for her. We were just standing there, waiting, loosing our last moments in silence.I saw the taxi from far away, I held my tears and said to her, "Take care of yourself, take good care of yourself."She didn't talk, just nodded lightly, and then opened up her misshaped umbrella and stepped out on the street. Out in the rain, we became two single life forms, one red, one black, so far away from each other. I opened the door for her and she got in, then I close the gate that would separate me from her forever. I stood by the car, staring in the dark window, at the first love in my life, also the last one, walking out of my life. The car started, driving into the street. Finally I couldn't hold my sorrow and the twist in my heart any longer, waving my arms rapidly chasing after the taxi, because I knew, this would be the last time I see her. I wanted to tell her I still love her, I wanted to tell her to stay, I wanted to tell her so much, but the taxi had already turned in the corner. Warm tears kept falling down my face, blended with the cold rain drops. I was cold, not because of the rain. I was cold inside.She left, and I didn't get anymore of her phone calls even until today. I know she didn't see my tears, because they were washed away by the rain. I left without regrets. But I'm not Chris, I'm that girl Susan, using my memory, and his diary I found after one year since he left, writing down these last words.
What is Beauty???...
She was not beautiful.
Nothing about her was extraordinary.
Nothing about her made her stand out in a crowd.
She grew up in a family of six.
The eldest, she learnt responsibility at an early age.
As she grew stronger, and brighter,
She instilled a sort of light cheer to whomever she met.
She was not beautiful.
But she made others feel beautiful about themselves.
She meets a rebel boy who thinks he's all man.
Befriending him, she teaches him how to read,
A little boost the man needed to go to college.
They became friends fast and she fell,
Fast in love with her rugged, handsome student.
The "man" then finds himself in a dilemma
He soon found himself in love with a girl.
A girl so beautiful, she turned even the grouchiest men's head.
Her hair was a halo of light around her,
Her eyes the bluest blue of ocean.
Like an angel he tells his tutor
Like a beautiful angel.
The girl swallows a lump at her throat
She was not beautiful
She did not possess the heart of the one she loved
But she did not care.
As long as he was happy,
She would be or so she tried to.
She helped him write the most beautiful letter to his angel
All the time envisioning that it was she herself
Receiving those very letters.
And so the girl helped him choose the right words,
Buy the right gifts for his angel
His angel brought him much joy
And much pain to the girl who cried behind her smiles.
But that never stopped her from giving more
Than she will ever receive.
Then one day, all hell broke loose
The angel he loved left him for another man,
A richer, more successful man.
The boy was stunned
He was so hurt he did not speak for days
The girl went to him
He cried on her shoulder and she cried with him
He hurt and so did she.
Time went by.
And so the wounds heal.
The boy realizes something about his friend/tutor
He never realized before.
How her laughter sounded heavenly
Or how her smiles brightened up the darkest days.
Or simply how beautiful, yes beautiful she looked to him!
Beautiful.
This plain, simple girl was beautiful to him.
And he began to fall.
Fall so in love with this beautiful girl.
On one day, he picked up all his courage to see her
He walked to her house, nervous and fidgeting.
Running his thoughts over and over in his head.
He was going to tell her how beautiful she was to him.
He was going to tell her how wonderfully in love he was with her.
He knocked.
No one was home.
The next day he found out,
The beautiful girl he fell in love with had brain aneurysm
That put her into a coma.
The doctors were grim and the family decided to let her go.
One final time he got to see her.
He held her hand.
He stroked her hair
And he cried for this beautiful girl.
He cried for he will never see her smile
Or hear her speak his name
He cried.
But it was too late.
The beautiful girl was buried and the heavens broke out
In a beautiful spring shower, a cry for their loss.
She was the most beautiful girl in the world.
Look around you.
Aren't there a lot of plain faces?
Take a good look.
A real good look or you might miss out
On that beautiful person.
Forever.
~ Author Unknown ~
I came across this when surfing in the morning.
Beauty lies in the eyes of beholder. So true.I have always wondered what does that mean.
I was having a chat about the seven wonders of the world with a friend of mine.We are all,of course,ecstatic that The Taj Mahal has made it once again to the top.There was a picture on the front page of today's newspaper which showed Ben Kingsley,Bipasha Basu and Hilary Swanks at the ceremony.Not the Taj! ''Bips' is beautiful",remarked my friend.This remark was enough to set me wondering about ;What is beauty?
While scouring the web for a definition,this is what came up:
Beauty is the phenomenon of the experience of pleasure, through the perception of balance and proportion of stimulus. It involves the cognition of a balanced form and structure that elicits attraction and appeal towards a person, animal, inanimate object, scene, music, idea, etc.
That's a mouthful!
A common saying is that
beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder.
When we get caught up in trying to let the media establish the definition of beauty, we lose sight of our own personal definitions.Have you really stopped to ponder what is beauty, really?
We are bombarded everyday with beauty contests like Miss Universe and Miss World as well as Vogue Magazine featuring the most beautiful people in the world. Do they answer the question "What is beauty?".
Advertisements of companies selling beauty products abound which offer usthe definition of beauty in a bottle of creamy liquid or a tube of cream.But is this OUR definition?
Or is it what we have begun to believe according to society?
In solitude, the girl stood in front of the one whom she knew never lied to her. The only one who she trusted in the world of lies that she lived in. The one who looked back at her with the same expression on their face as the girl had on hers. Whatever move the girl made, her faithful one would always copy her. The one person that she trusted was not human, but mainly herself.
It was her own reflection in her mirror.
Examining her reflection carefully, she looked at it with disgust. Her hair was fuzzy and hard to handle; unbrushed and unclean. Her eyes were bloodshot red from the tears that stung them. Mascara was smeared underneath her eyes and her makeup was out of order. Her face was covered with tiny little red dots that popped out of her skin as her makeup was smudged all over her flesh. Her skin was as rough as sandpaper which would never be smooth as silk like everyone else's. Her whole body was completely out of shape and formed in the worst way possible. She knew that just by staring into her reflection, her mirror was trying to tell her something. That she was not beautiful.
But then again, beauty is seen through the eyes of the beholder. So what is beauty? If someone puts loads of makeup on their face and styles their hair like celebrities do, is that beautiful? If one starves themselves in order to be in a perfect shape like the models in fashion magazines, is that beautiful? The girl is hypnotized by the subliminal messages that the media sends out to her. Act like this. Dress like that. Somehow her self-esteem has dropped lower than a tennis ball falling off a cliff. Is there beauty behind the disguise that the reflection portrays to her?
To her... no. But to her reflection... yes.
Looking down at her lips in her reflection, she felt like vomit would escape them. They were broken and chappy. Not even lip balm or chap stick could cure it. But a little voice appeared in her head all of a sudden and spoke words that her mind could never forget.
For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.
She wasn't like the other girls around her. The popular, pretty girls always spoke bitter words, creating irony in their lives. She, however, spoke words of kindness, love, and integrity. No matter how ugly her lips looked, her words would make them sweet.
Her pupils trailed from her chappy lips back to her bloodshot eyes. Those eyes... haunted her. They were red and filled with tears. Those droplets of sorrow just couldn't stop flowing out of them. The mascara that she put on to make her eyes glorious, made her eyes end up in a bad condition where mascara was smeared all over her eyelids. She had such an urge to poke both her eyes out to blind her from the sight of the horrid portrait of herself in the mirror. But once her eyes met the eyes of her reflection, that little voice reappeared again.
For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.
She was blinded by the beauty in front of her. In everything bad there was always something good. In every bad person, deep down inside there is something good about them waiting to be unleashed. Waiting to be exposed to the world. People hated her for who she was because she was herself; when the world mainly loved people for who they were not. Out of all people, she was the only one who was able to see the beauty in all man and creation. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to see the beauty within herself.
No matter what clothes she wore, they could still never hide her asymmetrical figure. She wasn't as thin as those fashion models found in magazines. But she wasn't fat like the obese people that she's seen everyday. No, she was average. But according to the world revolving around her, average wasn't good enough. The world demanded perfection, and she failed to meet that demand. She would get teased and picked on for her figure. For the way she looked everyday according to what clothes she wore or how much her body weighed. She could hear the evil voices of the crude people laughing at her. But once again, that little voice blocked out the others and spoke another important quotation.
For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.
She remembered walking down the streets of downtown, watching the poor and the homeless reach out to people for a helping hand. But no one would ever lend a hand. No. Instead of help, rejection was all that they would ever get in return. But she wasn't like those people who were selfish and egotistical. She actually cared. When she had extra food in her pockets or extra money in her wallet, they wouldn't be spent or thrown away in the garbage. Those items would be given to those in need. She ignored the dirty looks that she got from strangers and accepted the smiles that the poor would give her after the good deeds that she has done. Remembering such moments brought a tiny smile to grow just a little bit on her broken lips.
Her gaze shifted higher from her eyes to her hair. That messy, unmanagable hair; oh how she loathed it. She wanted to grab the strands of her hair and rip them out of her scalp in rage and anger. No matter how much she tried to brush and clean it, it wouldn't be as perfect as the ones at school who actually had perfect hair. Her hair covered her ears immensely, making her deaf of her surroundings. But the voice in her head was the only thing that she could hear.
For beautiful hair, let a child run his/her fingers through it once a day.
The older ones would always mock those who were beneath them. Children didn't matter that much anymore as they used to back in the past. Children were picked on, bullied, and used for bad purposes. But seeing the looks on the children's faces when they were happy, made her happy. Thinking about the laughter of the little ones running around her brought that small smile on her face to grow... just a little bit bigger.
For some reason unknown to her, she was told that perfect posture made a lady perfect. But her posture was weak and in a bad position since she carried so many things from school and back home. She never walked straight. She never stood straight. Her poise was off from everyone else's. She felt as if just by the way she walked, she was mocked even more by those that were perfect. The whispers in her head told her that she would never be as perfect as the people around her. For once in her life... that little voice in her head agreed.
For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone.
She may feel as if she is alone in her life, since no one will support her into looking good for once. Truth be told, she isn't alone. She has her reflection to speak the honest truth. And her mind to speak to her when she is lonely and help her make wise decisions in her life. She may not walk straight or have perfect poise... but it doesn't mean that she is unable to walk in the path of life that she has taken for herself.
Betrayal, heartache, lies, judgement; these are some of the things that she has experienced in her lifetime. In the past, she has loved ever so many. But now, who is left to love? How can she love someone who doesn't love her back? How can she care for someone who doesn't feel the same way? Girls and boys, friends and more than that. Who is there to love? Her heart beats too loudly for her to not hear the answers to her own questions. Nonetheless, the voice in her mind speaks as clear as crystal.
People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, and redeemed; never throw out anyone.
According to others, she was garbage. Used for fun then thrown away when done with. That's all she ever felt of herself; nothing but worthless garbage. But no matter who treated her like shit, she kept them in her heart. She remembered to always love her friends and enemies. For they may be going through things even worse than what she is going through right now.
The sight of her reflection was no longer shown to her as she looked away from it and down at her hands. Her hands were dirty and rough from all the hard work that she has done. They weren't as smooth as everyone else's, but somehow it showed great importance to her. Without her hands, she couldn't do anything. And without that little voice in her head, guidance could not be reached.
Remember... if you ever need a helping hand, you will find one at the end of each of your arms.
The voices in her head, and the words that were spoken, were wise. Wise enough to understand just how amazing she really was. Her smile somehow continued to grow without her knowing in the first place. When she looked at her smile in her reflection, she was actually pleased. Her teeth shined like pearls and they were... what's the word... perfect. This made a difference to her. A difference that she failed to notice. Not only was she beautiful... but she is beautiful. Not in the past, but in the present and in the future as well. She lifted up her weak hands and placed them carefully on the sides of her face. A small giggle escaped her chappy lips. She actually felt happy. Her reflection along with the voice in her head helped her out completely. Through the eyes of the beholder, beauty really was seen within her. Not just in the inside, but on the outside as well. No matter how horrible she looked, she continued telling herself just how beautiful she really was.
She removed her hands away from her face and looked down at them carefully;
remembering another thing that the little voice in her head once said to her.
As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands;
She carefully lifted up her left hand and examined it carefully...
one for helping yourself...
She then lifted up her right hand at the same height as her left hand and thought...
...and the other for helping others.
The girl knew that she wasn't a girl, but a lady. A beautiful, wise young lady who didn't care about perfection or anything else. No. No matter how messed up she looked, she thought she was beautiful nonetheless.
You are beautiful... no matter what people say...
Beautiful is… the curve of a smile on a mother’s face as she watches her little girl dance; the ecstatic smile of the woman in the arrivals hall when her man comes through the door; and the shared, amused smile on the faces of an old couple who do not need to talk.” - Nuala O’Faolain
Whatever you love is beautiful; love comes first, beauty follows. The greater your capacity for love, the more beauty you find in the world.
- Jane Smiley
- Jane Smiley
“Beauty involves awe. We see a picture, by, say, Matisse; it is beyond words; it simply fills us with wonder. A piece of music by Moxart makes us feel ‘of course, of course, that is the secret of life…’”- Muriel Spark
Beauty is that which contains goodness.
To my mind BEAUTY is......indefinable,elusive.
A rainy day....
It is one of those days,when everything seems perfect
but still something is not right,there are people around but you still feel alone, there is music going on but you still crave for words,and when words begin you wish silence dawns, i know its just a passing moment lingering a bit longer but then it suffocates, tears cloud the vision and when someone asks why? what? I have no reasons, does it happen?
It rained today. On my way in when I got home from school, I was loaded down with any-and-everything that had been lying around in the front seat of my car. In order to not have to make two trips through the wet, I had gathered up a hundred million pounds of books and daddy’s documents and bottles and whatever else I had brought with me this morning. As I stepped out into the downpour, I was a snowplow, a steam engine; I would not be stopped.
However.
I was.
A butterfly was perching on the side of one of the cars in our driveway, most likely trying to not get pelted in the storm. It occurred to me, for some reason, that it would probably not resist the idea of being re-located to just about anywhere. Offering my middle finger as a possible solution to the issue, I watched in complete captivation as he unhesitatingly accepted the offer.
So, for lack of any better idea as to what I'd do after having made this new friend, I tip-toed inside and set everything down on the counter to spend some time watching him open and close his wings. Eventually, after showing some family members and letting him climb up the bridge of my nose and into my hair, I watched him carry himself away. What a beautiful way to spend ten minutes of my day.
And it occurred to me.
God is like this.
You're plowing through your day, carrying everything you can possibly carry, and with plenty of things to do, but still, you see him. Like an open ended question, he's waiting in the rain. The holy spirit, when you stop to offer your hand, will lead you to somehow find yourself, all your burdens settled on some remote countertop, with you staring straight in the face of something beautiful. Spend time there, and when it is gone, the powder from its wings will still cover you.
Is this not the way he works?
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