it hurts to be judged.
it hurts to be misunderstood.
it hurts to get hurt by someone u love.
it hurts to b left alone.
it hurts to face the cruel truths.
But.. after a hurricane, comes a rainbow.
So we keep our hopes alive.
For a better tomorrow..
TW.
Have you ever clung to a desire for so long
that your eyes saw nothing else?
The most beautiful part of existence is the ability to dream,
to aspire toward a goal, no matter how lofty!
Like the little girl with her hand outstretched to the stars,
hoping for just one touch of the cosmos.
Try as she may, with all of her might
soon she will realize she cannot reach very far.
That little girl does not cry!
In fact she simply sits there,
smiling.
And soon tonight, like many before
her mother will call with affection,
peeking out the front door.
'Sweetheart, my darling where are you?
It's getting late and you need your sleep! '
That little girl does not whine!
In fact she just walks in,
smiling.
The little girl with her hands to the sky,
is content with the knowledge that tomorrow is another day.
Her arms will be one day longer,
and the stars will still be there.
Her dream may wither until it can't even be seen
but her dream will never tear.
-- anonymous.
Because I’m an Architect, I will spend years refining the design of my own home. It will be an elegant representation of my hard learned design philosphy. It will be innovatively conceived, yet ultimately unbuilt.
Because I’m an Architect, I will buy an expresso machine today. Yes, I already have a coffee maker. Several actually. what’s your point?
Because I’m an Architect, I will value quality over usefulness.
Because I’m an Architect, I would prefer a better car than the one I can afford.
Because I’m an Architect, I will insist on environmentally sensitive design principles. But, those sunshades are weakening the connection between the inside and outside spaces. I’m trying to allow the users to experience nature here. I’m not going to do that with tinted glass.
Because I’m an Architect, I will dress simply, or minimally. You may dress mini-mall-ly if you must.
Because I’m an Architect, I will know more than one word for angst. Just like the Eskimos and snow. When you’re surrounded by a thing, you notice the subtle variations.
Because I’m an Architect, I will not give you advice on designing your kitchen, I’m trying to enjoy the dinner party. Well, actually, fine… what kind of “entertaining” do you and your husband/wife like to do?
Because I’m an Architect, I will store books in my house and office. I will have “flipped” through many of them.
Because I’m an Architect, I will redesign my business cards, and your’s look like you made them at Office Depot.
Because I’m an Architect, I will be a renewable resource, like fly ash.
Because I’m an Architect, I will know less than my level of education would imply, but will always appear to know more than you do.
Because I’m an Architect, I will never specify a shower curtain.
Because I’m an Architect, Although I will know that something that is 18 inches wide will align with something that is 12 inches wide every 3 feet, I will not think that’s good enough.
Because I’m an Architect, I will think I can do that better than you are doing it. unless we’re talking about fly-fishing.
Because I’m an Architect, I will be over in the corner, separate, not equal.
Lost in the past that I often miss...
Lost in the pictures of old memories...
Lost in the beauty that I see today...
Lost in the things that life has given me
Lost in the crowd with no uniqueness in me...
Lost in thoughts that I often love to think...
Lost in people whom I love and care..
Lost in this world while trying to understand..
Lost in words where my thoughts are born..
Lost in my own world where people don't know that it really exists..
Lost in fantasy where my imagination goes wild..
Lost in Art which is my addiction with passion..
Lost in search of Destiny, finding wherever it leads me!
EVERYONE and their grandmothers have heard 'Sheila ki jawani' by now. In fact, the grandmothers have heard the song more carefully, since they are the only ones who have that name these days (a big shout out to Sheila Dixit!). Which begs the question, WHY is 'Sheila ki jawani' shot on Katrina Kaif? More importantly, how could your name be 'Sheila, Sheila ki jawani?!' What kind of a surname is 'Ki Jawani'? (No offense to my Sindhi friends if i'm being ignorant here!) How could anyone have a surname like that?!
Katrina Kaif in Sheila Ki Jawani is like a mannequin dancing. She has the perfect mannequin body... but then again, she also has the mannequin face! When you hear the song and see Katrina’s bod, you go, 'Woah, Jawani!’ (yes, YOU go… i’ve heard you! Don’t lie now!). But then you see Katrina’s face and you go, 'Wait, THIS is Sheila?’ I think Katrina’s too pretty to carry off her own body. Yes, I say intelligent things like that sometimes.
So keeping all the constraints in mind, here are the grandmothers whose jawanis need to be sung about:
1. Baa ki jawani: Remember Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Baa-hua karti thi? Remember Baa? The superwoman, whose age at the end of 10 generation leaps, would have been some 250 years, but who STILL didn’t have grey hair? That’s the kind of jawani i'm talking about! And can’t you totally imagine Baa shaking it at one of the various family functions/Diwali special/New Year special/extra marital affair special/funeral special/generation leap special?
2. Pratibha ki jawani: Pratibha Patil may look 200 years old, yes, but that doesn’t mean she can’t be a badass! Apart from being the first woman President of India, she also holds the record for being the oldest woman. No wait, that doesn’t sound right. … Oh yeah, she holds the record for being the oldest woman… TO fly in a combat jet at a speed close to supersonic speed. Can YOUR grandma do that? CAN SHE?
3. Rekha ki jawani: Call it botox, or call it yoga. Okay lemme call it yoga… to avoid lawsuits. No one may know the REAL secret of Rekha ki jawani (it’s yoga), but whatever it is (it’s yoga), it sure has helped Rekha maintain her skin, face, skin, body, skin, and everything else on her face, body and skin (it’s yoga). It’s got to be yoga, right? (It’s yoga)
What do you guys think? Katrina’s jawani? Or Baa’s? Or are there any other grandmas that you dream of that i’ve forgotten? (That’s very disturbing on your part, by the way) :P :)
What was left when that fire was gone?
I thought it felt right, but that right was wrong...
All caught up in the eye of the storm,
And trying to figure out what it's like moving on...
And i don't even know what kind of things I've said,
My mouth kept moving and my mind went dead ...
So, picking up the pieces, now where to begin?
The hardest part of ending Is starting again!
A water bearer had two large pots, each hung on one end of the pole he carried across the back of his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream, the cracked pot arrived only half full. This went on every day for two years, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots of water to his master's house.
Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishment and saw itself as perfectly suited for the purpose for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its imperfection and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do. After two years of what it perceived as bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. I am ashamed of myself and I want to apologize to you.
Why? asked the bearer, What are you ashamed of?
For the past two years, I have been able to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master's house. Because of my flaws you have to work without getting the full value of your efforts, the pot said.
The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and out of compassion he said, As we return to the master's house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path. Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the wildflowers on the side of the path. The pot felt cheered.
But at the end of the trail, the pot still felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and again it apologized for its failure. The bearer said to the pot, Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of your path, but not on the other pot's side? That is because I knew about your flaw and took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you have watered them for me. For two years, I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master's table. If you were not just the way you are, he would not have such beauty to grace his house.
What is the moral of the story ?
Each of us has our unique flaws. We all are cracked pots. But a compassionate and expert person can engage us in some good service, and then we can be useful, despite our defects.
How can we apply this in our own life ?
01) Whenever we notice some flaw in others, instead of criticising them for their own flaws, we need to have compassion and love for them.
02) And we need to continuously and vigorously strive on, to explore the ways and means as to how we can utilize even that flaw in others in our beloved Lord's service, just as the water-bearer did after he noticed the crack in the pot.
