Short Story

A famous writer was in his study room. He picked up his pen and started writing :

**Last year, I had a surgery and my gall bladder was removed. I had to stay stuck to the bed due to this surgery for a long time.

**The same year I reached the age of 60 years and had to give up my favourite job. I had spent 30 years of my life in this publishing company.

**The same year I experienced the sorrow of the death of my father.

**And in the same year my son failed in his medical exam because he had a car accident. He had to stay in bed at hospital with the cast on for several days. The destruction of car was another loss.

At the end he wrote: Alas! It was such bad year !!

When the writer’s wife entered the room, she found her husband looking sad & lost in his thoughts. From behind his back she read what was written on the paper. She left the room silently and came back with another paper and placed it on side of her husband’s writing.

When the writer saw this paper, he found his name written on it with following lines :

**Last year I finally got rid of my gall bladder due to which I had spent years in pain….

**I turned 60 with sound health and got retired from my job. Now I can utilize my time to write something better with more focus and peace…..

**The same year my father, at the age of 95, without depending on anyone or without any critical condition met his Creator…..

**The same year, God blessed my son with a new life. My car was destroyed but my son stayed alive without getting any disability……

At the end she wrote:

This year was an immense blessing of God and it passed well !!!

The writer was indeed happy and amazed at such beautiful and encouraging interpretation of the happenings in his life in that year !!!

Moral : In daily lives we must see that its not happiness that makes us grateful but grate-fulness that makes us happy.

The Other Side

There is a movie called Gattaca. You may have seen it in a science class once, I’ve heard that happens. The premise is a Utopian future where people can choose the traits of their offspring; from the color of their eyes and hair, to their intellectual capacity and potential for athleticism. It is a society of people at the top of the gene pool.

In this story, the protagonist is a natural birth. His genes were left to fate, and as such he is looked on with distain by his genetic “superiors”.

The story tells of his journey toward his dreams, despite the genetic deficiencies he possesses. It is a great film.

There is one scene in particular that has always stuck with me. As children, the protagonist and his younger, selectively bred, brother played a game of chicken. They would swim out into a lake as far as they could until one of them got too tired or frightened and needed to turn back. All his life, that person, the loser who needed to turn back was our protagonist. Until the very last game of chicken he and his brother played when they were young. That one time, he beat his brother.

Now, this was all off screen for the most part. But later in the movie, the brothers meet up again. And the younger brother, angry at having lost the last game, challenges the protagonist to play chicken one last time.

They do, and the protagonist beats his younger brother again. As they tread water in the darkness and depths of some great lake, the younger brother asks, “How are you doing this? How have you done all of this?”

The protagonist replies defiantly, “You want to know how I did it? I never saved anything for the way back.”

You see, he put all his effort into the goals he deemed worthy, that he left no way out. He gave himself no choice but to continue fighting for what he desired. Given the choice of turning back, he said, “No, we should keep going, at this point, we’re closer to the other side.”

You have been my goal, my desire, my love. I’m not saving anything for the way back. I’m already closer to the other side.

Wick-end of August, wicked once-weight of summer’s sink and sigh.
September now, set to set foot on the other side,
We know where she’s been. We know
What big secret she keeps,
                                              so dark and dungeoned, and wish her well,
Praying that she will whisper it to us
                                                            just once, just this once.

Charles Wright, from “Opus Posthumous,’ Appalachia (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1998)

How lucky were you, to have gone through something? To have cried so hard your eyes still stung in the morning, to have screamed so loud you can hardly speak afterward, to have had to run so fast you could hardly catch your breath afterward. That was so hard, I know. And I bet you’re still not over it. But you felt something, and feeling something is something many many people crave. And because you broke, you healed that much stronger. You learned how to get up. You learned how to take care of yourself. You’re okay. You’re so strong now. You survived. You lived.