Strike Balance

A man came home from work late, tired and irritated, to find his 5 year old son waiting for him at the door.

Son: - "Daddy, may I ask you a question?"
Daddy: - "Yeah sure, what it is?"
Son: - "Dad, how much do u make an hour?
Daddy: - "That's none of your business. Why do u ask such a thing?” that man said angrily
Son: -" I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?"
Daddy: -" If you must know, I make Rs.500 an hour." "Oh," the little boy replied, with his head down, looking up, he said, "Dad, may I please borrow Rs 300?

The father was furious," If the only reason u asked that is so u can borrow some money to buy a silly toy or other nonsense, then march yourself to your room and go to bed, Think why u are being so selfish. Do I work hard everyday for such childish behaviour."

The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door. The man sat down and started to get even angrier about the little boy's questions. How dare he ask such questions only to get some money?

After about an hour or so, the man had calmed down, and started to think "May be there was something he really needed to buy with that Rs. 300 and he really didn't ask for money very often! " The man went to the door of little boy's room and opened the door.” Are u asleep, son?" He asked. No daddy, I'm awake," replied the boy.

I've been thinking, may be I was too hard on you earlier," said the man, it's been a long day and I took out my aggravation on you. Here's the Rs. 300 you asked for."

The little boy sat straight up, smiling. "Oh thank you dad!" He yelled. Then, reaching under his pillow he pulled some crumpled up bills. The man, seeing that the boy already had money, started to get angry again.

The little boy slowly counted out his money, then looked up at his father.” Why do you want money if you already have some?" the father grumbled.” Because I didn't have enough, but now I do," the little boy replied.

"Daddy. I have Rs. 500 now. Can I buy an hour of your time? Please come home early tomorrow. I would like to have dinner with you.

THE MORAL OF THIS STORY: - It's just a short reminder to all of you working so hard in life. We should not let time slip through our fingers without having spent some time with those who really matter to us, those close to our hearts.

If we die tomorrow, the company that we are working for could easily replace us in a matter of days. But the family & friends we leave behind will feel the loss for the rest of their lives. And come to think of it, we pour ourselves more into work than to our family. An unwise investment indeed!!!

One Friendly Act

One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class was walking home from school. His name was Kyle. It looked like he was carrying all of his books. I thought to myself,” Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd. “I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends tomorrow afternoon), so shrugged my shoulders and went on. As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him. He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes. My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him and as he crawled around looking for his glasses, and I saw a tear in his eye. As I handed him his glasses, I said,” Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives." He looked at me and said, "Hey thanks!" There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude. I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before. He said he was studying  in a private school previously. We talked all the way home, and I carried his books for him. He turned out to be a pretty cool guy. I asked him if he wanted to play football on Saturday with my friends and me. He said yes. We hung all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him, and my friends thought the same of him. Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again. I stopped him and said, "Boy, you’re going to really build serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!” He just laughed and handed me half the books. Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends. When we were seniors, we began to think about college. Kyle decided on Georgetown, and I was going to duke. I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem. He was going to be a doctor, and I was going for business on a football scholarship. Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd. He had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak. On graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found him during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. Boy, sometimes I was jealous. Today was one of those days. I could see that he was nervous about his speech. So, I smacked him on the back and said, "Hey, big guy, you’ll be great!" He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled. Thanks," he said. As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began. "Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach... but mostly your friends. I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give him or her. I am going to tell you a story." I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his Mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile. "Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable.” I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment. I

saw his mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize its depth.

Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person's life. For better or for worse. God puts us all in each other's lives to impact one another in some way.

A Mother's Love

A TRUE STORY

A little boy came up to his mother in the kitchen one evening while she was fixing supper, and handed her a piece of paper that he had been writing on.

After his Mom dried her hands on an apron, she read it, and this is what it said:

For cutting the grass: $5.00

For cleaning up my room this week: $1.00

For going to the store for you: $.50

Baby-sitting my kid brother while you went shopping: $.25

Taking out the garbage: $1.00

For getting a good report card: $5.00

For cleaning up and raking the yard: $2.00

Total owed: $14.75

Well, his mother looked at him standing there, and the boy could see the memories flashing through her mind. She picked up the pen, turned over the paper he'd written on, and this is what she wrote:

For the nine months I carried you while you were growing inside me: No Charge

For all the milk you suckled for two years: No Charge

For all the nights that I've sat up with you, doctored and prayed for you: No Charge

For all the trying times, and all the tears that you've caused through the years: No Charge

For all the nights that were filled with dread, and for the worries I knew were ahead: No Charge

For the toys, food, clothes, and even wiping your nose: No Charge

Son, when you add it up, the cost of my love is: No Charge

When the boy finished reading what his mother had written, there were big tears in his eyes, and he looked straight at his mother and said, "Mom, I sure do love you." And then he took the pen and in great big letters he wrote: "PAID IN FULL".

Lessons:

You will never know how much your parent’s worth till you become parent yourself. Be a giver not a demander, especially with your parents. There is a lot to give, besides money.

Advice:

IF your mom is alive and close to you than give her a big kiss and ask her for forgiveness.

IF she is far away - call her. If she has passed away - pray for her.

A Sandpiper To Bring You Joy

By : Ruth Peterson

She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live.  I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world begins to close in on me.  She was building a sandcastle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the  sea.
"Hello," she said.  I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child.  "I'm building," she said.
"I see that. What is it?" I asked, not caring.
"Oh, I don't know, I just like the feel of sand.
"That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes.  A sandpiper glided by.
"That's a joy," the child said.
"It's a what?"
"It's a joy.  My mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy." The bird went glissading down the beach.  "Good-bye joy," I muttered to myself, "hello pain," and turned to walk on.  I was depressed; my life seemed completely out of balance.
"What's your name?" She wouldn't give up.
"Ruth," I answered.  "I'm Ruth Peterson."
"Mine's Wendy... I'm six."
"Hi, Wendy."
 She giggled. "You're funny," she said.  In spite of my gloom I laughed too and walked on. Her musical giggle followed me.
"Come again, Mrs. P," she called. "We'll  have another happy day."
The days and weeks that followed belong to others: a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings, and ailing mother.  The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out of the dishwater. "I need a sandpiper," I said to myself, gathering up my coat.  The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me.
The breeze was chilly, but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I needed. I had forgotten the child and was startled when she appeared.
"Hello, Mrs. P," she said.  "Do you want to play?"
"What did you have in mind?" I asked, with a twinge of annoyance.
"I don't know, you say."
"How about charades?" I asked sarcastically.
The tinkling laughter burst forth again.  "I don't know what that is."
"Then let's just walk." Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness
of her face.  "Where do you live?" I asked.
"Over there." She pointed toward a row of summer cottages.  Strange, I thought, in winter.
"Where do you go to school?"
"I don't go to school.  Mommy says we're on vacation." She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things. When I left for home, Wendy said it had been a happy day.
Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at  her and agreed. Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic.  I was in no mood to even greet Wendy.  I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she keep her child at home.
"Look, if you don't mind," I said crossly when Wendy caught up with me, "I'd rather be alone today."
She seems unusually pale and out of breath.
"Why?" she asked.
I turned to her and shouted, "Because my mother died!" and thought, my God, why was I saying this to a little child?
"Oh," she said quietly, "then this is a bad day."
"Yes, and yesterday and the day before and-oh, go away!"
"Did it hurt? "
"Did what hurt?" I was exasperated with her, with myself.
"When she died?" "Of course it hurt!" I snapped, misunderstanding, wrapped up in myself. I strode off.  A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn't there.  Feeling guilty, ashamed and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door.  A drawn looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door.
"Hello," I said.  "I'm Ruth Peterson.  I missed your little girl today
and wondered where she was."
"Oh yes, Mrs. Peterson, please come in" "Wendy talked of you so much.
I'm afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance, please, accept my apologies."
"Not at all-she's a delightful child," I said, suddenly realizing that I meant it. "Where is she?"
"Wendy died last week, Mrs. Peterson.  She had leukemia.  Maybe she didn't tell you." Struck dumb, I groped for a chair.  My breath caught.
"She loved this beach; so when she asked to come, we couldn't say no.
She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days.  But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly..." her voice faltered.
"She left something for you...if only I can find it.  Could you wait a moment while I look?"
I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something, anything, to say to this lovely young woman.  She handed me a smeared envelope, with MRS. P printed in bold, childish letters.  Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues-a yellow beach, a blue sea, and a brown bird.  Underneath was carefully printed:   A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY
Tears welled up in my eyes, and a heart that had almost forgotten to love  opened wide.  I took Wendy's mother in my arms.  "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I muttered over and over, and we wept together.
The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my study.  Six words- one for each year of her life- that speak to me of harmony, courage, undemanding love.  A gift from a child with sea-blue eyes and hair the color sand--- who taught me the gift of love.

A Painter

Once upon a time, a well-known painter was working on a painting. It's an incredibly beautiful painting to be shown at the Airport during the upcoming festival season. The painter wanted this painting to be a master piece.

He worked on it for weeks on the top of a 24 storey building. He was consumed by and excited with his own painting that he unconsciously took a few step backward while admiring the 2 x 8 m painting. He didn't look back when he walked backward. He kept on walking backward until it was a step away from the edge of the 24 floor building. Just one more step backward and he could have fallen to his death.

A man saw what the painter was doing and was about to shout at him to warn him when he realized that his shout might surprise the painter and thus make him take that fatal one step backward and fall down. So the man took a brush and some paint and began to paint on the beautiful painting until it was damaged.

Upon realizing what happened to his painting, the painter got very angry and moved forward to hit the man. However, some other people who were also present at the vicinity held him and showed him his last position which almost made him fall.

MORAL: Sometimes we have painted our future with such beauty and dreamed of beautiful days we will spend with our loved one, but then God seemes to destroy our beautiful painting when God sees what danger lies ahead of us. Sometimes we are angry and annoyed by what God has done to us, but one thing we have to keep in our mind is that our Creator is Most Wise and always keeps our best of interest in mind!

So when God, in His Infinite Wisdom, tests us with a situation that we think is difficult or takes away something that in our mind was good for us, we need to remember that perhaps it may not be so. Perhaps if we had continued in our way, it might have been harmful for us and whatever God decreed for us is actually better for us, for He is All-Wise and All-Knowing.

Think Before You Speak

By : Abu Shazil

One day, while I use to live in a bachelor hostel a friend of mine Mr. Ayub came to me and asked me  to accompany him to another person Mr. Yousaf, he was visiting for some task. I agreed and went along. We reached the person and after hand shake sat in front of him. I picked up the news paper where as my friend initiated discussion with Mr. Yousaf. After quite a while when I was over with the news paper I found that even after a long discussion they were still struck up in the middle of dispute or whatever you call it. I lent my ears to their discussion and at one point found that my friend Mr. Ayub was not getting the point of view of Mr. Yousaf and was taking him wrongly. After sometime once I was quite sure about my observation I decided to interrupt. During their discussion I found a lull and jumped into the discussion. I explained the point of view of Mr. Yousaf to Mr. Ayub and made him understand the scenario. Mr. Ayub, after hearing me, was quite upset and apologised from Mr. Yousaf for not getting him. Mr. Yousaf open heartedly accepted the apology and we came back.

That day I realized that most of the time, most of us, without listening the complete argument of the opponent butt into discussion with preconceived ideas and notions. This practice quite often leads us to hot words and at times to quarrels. We repent later on while it is of no use. The lesson learnt is that whenever you indulge into discussion, dispute or negotiations, clear your mind, shed off preconceived ideas, make yourself unbiased and then involve in negotiations with open heart and clear mind. I am sure and 100% positive that there is no dispute on the globe which can't be negotiated on table and by avoiding quarrels. Try it once and you will find it yourself that the phenomena of initiating negotiations with clean mind slate works amazingly towards positive side and take not very long to resolve the issue.

Try it and share your opinion with me on abu.shazil@gmail.com

Happy New Year

By : Abu Shazil
Bye Two Thousand Eleven
we wait with baited breathe for you to depart
Once you are gone our tomorrows start
You cling to us with your dirty nails
polluting our minds with awful memoir
bygone is autumn, Spring prevails

Goodbye last year
we lay you to rest in eternal peace
Eager to unfold tomorrow's mystery
and saving you in the books of history

We are the siblings of emerging Tomorrows
zealous earthlings
moving to happiness forgetting sorrows
flying spirits needing no wings

On the hunt of dirty dudes
haunting our present
promoting violent moods
converting them to vibrant

Friends of mankind
enjoy with each beat of your heart
remember to share
all your love and care
just like we did
in the past year