Day 18 - Life after a decade

I had 10 odd posts waiting to be published in my drafts. They have been lying there for many years, some more than a decade. I went about reading them and I could see the girl I was back then. So much spunk, not much charisma. I chuckled. What a hoot. Blatant and unapologetic. Full of opinions, hot headed yet curtailed by wisdom and constrained by common sense. 

It was refreshing to know myself through my own words. Strange in a way because you don't think you needed to refresh your memory by going through your old writing and and recognising who you were. Life hits you with a million bricks that sometimes you don't identify your own voice. It's bittersweet and in my case I am enchanted with my life story.

Young life is wild and I was no exception. You take on life like a painter ready with their brush looking at the canvas. The idea is clear, the colours are decided and the painting needs to happen. You don't mind the shortcuts or delays because you are fueled by desire and there is no replacement to that. It burns, you are consumed by that passion. It's an all time high. It's messy and uncoordinated. Full of flaws and without remorse.

Adulthood is not the same. Desire takes a back seat and for good reason. You can't run on carbs all your life. You get perspective, you recognise it's the discipline and choices that will help you in the long haul. Emotions are just distractions. You learn to discard any feeling calling it unnecessary or telling yourself such is life. 

But how can a person in a mere 10 years do a complete 180 and change themselves. This is checkmate from God and it's hilarious. All of us become gods of our own life when we make things happen for ourselves. When we crack a tough exam or get into a particular payscale or buy a car/house. We think we are in control. But after living life as much as I have, I can say with certainty that we are not build for control. 

We are built for experiences and honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way. Why chase an ignorant lie when you can surrender to a painful truth. Life takes you on and transforms you, but when we ask God to walk with us, He simply doesn't let us get destroyed while going through the wringer but gets us out in one piece to live and fight another day. So choose God. 

Day 17 - Writing challenge; Time, space, courage?

Exactly 1 month since I last published.

Where is the time going?

The world we live in has unlocked many dimensions, new rules, mottos and hashtags.

It feels hard to belong sometimes, but where do we go?

Its not like we can teleport to another planet.

In this lifetime, even if we don't do a lot,

I wish for everyone to know in their heart 

That they did the very best they can.

Life is complex.

Breathing takes courage.

Not even oxygen is free when you're fighting for your life.

But time, 

Oh, time is the greatest mystery.

Can you believe we are in the age we are in right now?

Our childhoods seem like a gazillion years ago, but it was just 20-30 years ago.

Makes us wonder, what to hold onto. 

Will everything pass.

If everything will pass, should we bother as much

If we don't, how to feel.

Isn't life about feeling

And feeling equals living?

Not always. Not when you know what you want

In this lifetime.

Have you taken the time to know yourself?

There's little time only left darling

What's more important.

What will matter.

Ask these questions to yourself

Answer them truthfully.

Pursue them, 

Passionately, at any cost

Hashtag WhateverItTakes

Is there a universal answer to this

The generic answer would be 

Leave the world better than you found it.

Moral answer would be

Live a good life

But an honest answer will be

Something only you can answer

I think

Its not about the life lived.

Its about the person you were in the time that you got to live.

Make it count.

Make it count.

Make it count.

Tomorrow is not promised.

Present can be messy, but its so so worth it.

You got it boo.

Dear you.

It appears to me that the only time you have a conversation with yourself is when you are disappointed in yourself. Stop acting like you don’t know what I am talking about. I am talking about the lonely pillow talks with yourself crying and feeling miserable. Does that jog your memory? Or how about your silent suppression of self-esteem whenever you see someone prettier, smarter, wealthier or talented than you are? Now, don’t make me give you the ugly list of all the times in a day you do this to yourself, in fact every time you’re alone with your thoughts, isn't this what your really up to?

Are you stupid?

Nah, the right question is, how can you be so stupid?

I guess, I was right earlier. You ARE stupid.

Look at your palm. Seriously, look at your fingers. (I know you're not looking) you notice each of your finger is in a different size, don't you? If all the fingers were of the same size, you cannot use it like you do now. The lows and lengths in your life have a reason. They lead you to a new place. A better place. The kind of place where the pain of your past has a meaning. Don't disregard any experience as bootless. Life is not meant to be perfect. 

Look back at all the amazing and beautiful things that happened in your life. They were either preceded or succeeded by shitty, painful days. Life is like a lorry stuck in Mount Road traffic (Chennai references, hehe), there are times it will have its way, times it will not. Sometimes at midnight it has the entire road to itself like a boss. Its about the time and seasons. Change is the only constant. Don’t be consumed in the pain of the hopeless things that are happening in your life today. Look up. Rejoice. Remember the merry days, the smiles, the little joys. I don't see you grinning or laughing alone at night reminiscing the amazing things that have happened to you from your birth, then why do it only with hurtful things? Fill your heart with thankfulness instead of spite and bitterness. Prepare your heart for the beauty that is just ahead. Don’t wallow in pain, rise above! 

P.S I was encouraged to write this piece because every time I have a conversation with a friend or kin, they talk tirelessly on how gloomy things have been in their life. They hardly even mention or acknowledge any good thing. But knowing their life, I have seen in their lives successes and everyday blessings which they hardly make mention or celebrate. Pain consumes. Joy uplifts. But don't have to let pain consume us. We can let it fuel us. It is an option. Make that choice.

Did she have it in her?

Yes, this is my journal and no, that is not a vodoo doll.

She thought she knew what she wanted,

And she let herself believe in it.

She worked hard at it

And realised she wasn't going far

She sat back; asking herself,

If she really knew what she wanted

Her heart said it did; and

Her mind acted like a dud

She tried yet again; and this time

She put her mind to it

It looked like she was going to make it work

But her faith kind of faltered 

She looked around for help

A comforting face, a kind smile: None.

She looked within and Alas,

A friend waiting and a passionate soul

She got to her desk again, now feeling different

Not with a plan yet, but with a sure goal

She knew she had herself

And that can sometimes be too much too.

She leaned behind and smiled; Her mind echoed, 

'Life is not as bad as you thought, eh?'

But her heart thundered, ' Life is great.,

Just be willing and always believe'

Writing is my therapy.

You know how you have some horrible days when everything goes haywire and you feel you're breathing havoc? Yeah? What does a nominal person do to calm himself down? Take a walk, get in the shower may be, play with a pet, bawl in agony?

Well, I write.

I write not just to make myself feel better but because it helps me anatomize the situation. When I sit to write, thoughts don't flow, it pours. It pours like a mad man screaming from the middle of a street. Some other times I have a brain freeze. I cannot comprehend my own thoughts. I need to pause my wrecking mind in order to think; and because I look forward to penning it down, I think harder. I play my life in slow-mo, never skipping a scene as memory serves.

I continue thinking about what I should have done. I think of the possibilities, I think of my trail of thoughts in that situation. Basically, my need to write is not just an ardent desire but my catalyst for self-examination. Without a doubt every time I have completed writing a piece, I have felt liberated and redeemed. My best friends are my words. I knit them with the song in my heart and tune them to the thoughts in my mind.

Writing is meat to my muscle, cure to my sorrow and joy to my heart.

About last night.

In the glum darkness of the night, I sat up on my bed. My heart heavy as wet laundry. My tongue stuck to my palate, my eye balls hid under its lids in despair. I straightened my skimpy clothes and considered the life I was given. Contemplated on every opportunity presented, the decisions I made, the experiences I had, the pain I carried, and the tears I wiped.

The sound of thunder and lightning alarmed me and I looked at the fierceness of the bolts savage through my window. I watched nature in action from my melancholic room as the curtains swayed in the mild wind. Is the weather outside painting the accurate picture of the turbulence in my heart? Thoughts rummaged once again pressing my spirit to the lowest pit and I partially went deaf in the ear and numb in my being for a brief while.

Why is it I always feel like I am walking on a rope, why can't I take risks, face challenges and make something out of myself? Why can't my stomach be flat and legs be slim like its meant to be, why can't I have eyebrows that are arch shaped and not like a straight line drawn by a child. I investigated and dissected every meaningful, trivial situation I was ever a part of. Shed drops of salted distress on forgotten heartbreaks, unsavoured relationships, awkward moments, meaningless friendships, self pity and the need for validation.

Sometimes, we women look into our entire lives because we want to be in control, some other times it's just PMS.

Beware of the office flirt.

I have an appetite for unhealthy food and so does my heart for unhealthy relationships. The desire to feel belonged is the first hit of shovel on the grave of independence. Being in a relationship; the idea of someone dominating you out of their possessive love for you is what romantic best sellers are made of and what unadulterated teenagers in their adolescent prime crave for. But that is not what a liberal, forward thinking, independent girl like me can stick up with.

Boys come in all sizes and shapes (pun unintended, really). Yeah, there are the cute ones with vacant brains, the brainy ones with narrow minds, the douche bags border-lining as smarty pants and the wannabes trying to scale up at their charismatic game.

Every girl loves a little pampering, unfiltered compliments, a little tongue in cheek moments when *conversing* with the guy she is crushing on. You know the coquettish behaviour of flirtatious laughs, uncontrollable giggles and obvious drooling action? Yes, we all love it but hey, don't interpret all that coying to be a green signal to take things to the next level, cause buddy there is no next level in office flirting unless you are immature, sad and do not see your self-worth or is driven on attaining your full potential.

I am all in for socialising, cracking up, chilling out, even sharing inappropriate jokes and stuff, but hey, know what you want. Stay focused, don't let the circumstances take its own course, be in control. Besides, some people are really sweet, don't lead them (read as use them) if you're not planning on receive them at the other end.

He played me

I'll call you back, he said.
She waited for hours, expecting.
His sweet words of simple pleasures lured her.
She lolled around with never-ending anticipation.
He had promises of hope and care.
She surrendered to petty joys.
And succumbed to trivial temptations.

The other guy.

He makes me smile.
He makes me dream.

He runs in my mind.
He races my heart.

He excites my senses.
He seduces my hormones.

He lets me be me.
He lets me speak my mind.

He undresses me.
My spirit, soul and body.

He gives me hope, but he won't be around.
He says he loves me, but it is not without reason.

He makes me feel special,
Because I need validation to feel so.

He makes me feel beloved.
I enjoy that attention because I lack maturity.

He gives me much importance.
I enjoy how it feeds my pride.

He has a consuming effect on me,
Because he is not 'the one' but the other guy.

Go figure!

Every girl believes she is beautiful. How much weightage she assigns to this truth is relative, but in her soul, every girl thinks she looks beautiful (at least in some angles). I am no exception. Growing up, I did not worry much about my looks. My idea of good looking was neat looking and presentable, nothing more. Then came adolescence, that didn't change me either. I was mostly by myself and thankfully did not have a rebellious attitude. Late teens and early 20s - not much of a change, hadn't used a kohl pencil (eye liner) or a foundation on face up until then. Could say was the biggest make-up virgin in grad school.

Went to Bangalore for my post-grad. Met a bunch of good people and a lot of wannabes. Discovered myself, not necessarily my strengths, but discovered myself for who I was. I knew what I was made of, what I was inclined to, what I abhorred, what I fancied and that was a great learning. Worked for a couple of years there and moved back to Chennai, home of my heart. You know how you get your way around some things effortlessly? Like I didn't really have to work or strive for few comforts. It just happened to me every time, like I was entitled to it and the cosmic powers worked in unison to have that thing delivered to me. But with age, I got more wise and I think I jinxed it or real life happened.

I became intrigued observing and moving with people who did certain things in a certain fashion and always found good results. There was a plan, there was a pattern. They had a routine, they were conscious of everything they would think, say, do or not do. I figured the character mix of people who are beautiful and successful are hardworking, positive, genuine, kind hearted, friendly, cool-headed, empathetic, perseverant and they invariably had a high self-esteem. This list may not be exclusive but surely this is the combination. Every person's path of discovery of himself is different, but when the desire burns bright, the light is shone on the path. That is a certainty.

Vaishnavi Kasthuri Rangan.

My friend, my dear friend.
My shining angel, my beautiful baby.
I have hardly seen your face.
But you have a face in my heart.
The face of a survivor, a fighter and a victor.

Friendship is a celebration of two hearts. Yours and mine.
I remember the time I sat next to you in a math class.
You looked so radiant, your brilliance shone through.
I remember the inline trebles in your voice when you talk, the sound of intelligence.
I raved in your companionship, in the acknowledgement of knowing someone so beautiful, elegant, bold and strong.

Every person has a path.
Yours was much different than most people I know.
That's why you were most beautiful than most people I knew.

Today I saw you,
Surrendered in a box.
I cannot speak, my heart is in my throat.
I saw the frailtiness of humans and the honour of a race won.

People may say you succumbed to your sickness. I think you surpassed it.
You went to the place you deserve.
You deserve peace my baby.
Rest from all pain and suffering.
Rest from all the medicines and tests.
Rest from all the heartaches and breakdowns.

You are bigger than what took you.

You are an angel. You have given to me what most people will not find in their lifetime. You have taught me what is love, courage, strength and modesty. You were unstoppable. There is nothing stopping you even now. Walk in the garden of God, make the celestial world bright with your smile and sparkle. You are a beautiful soul my baby, my miracle child. I loved you so much, perhaps I never showed and perhaps you'll never know. God speed Vysh. xoxo.

Moments.

When I recall the happy times in my life, I am immediately reminded of a particular moment in every situation. Its beautiful how our feelings have a breakthrough. I feel life should be full of those moments. You know that moment when you feel differently because of new knowledge, realization, touch or concern of a dear one? Why aren't we able to experience these moments often? I guess that's how God intended it. Is it that we are allowed a finite number of moments in this finite life? The marvel to a moment is in the unpredictability of it. Right?

Closure.

It was the first week and I looked my personal best. In my profession, it doesn't help to be passive, as marketers, we need to be ahead of our game to stay relevant in the game. I am chirpy, straight-forward and a no-nonsense person, so my personality naturally fit my calibre. I was sprinting around getting work done with unfaltering attention from the very first day. It might look too ambitious for a person who just joined, but not for me. I did not reckon anyone eyeballing me for I could care less. Sigh, I was mistaken!

Trouble.

Couple of days passed and I was all the more absorbed with work. The organisation did not encourage socialising and I sensed the need for it but didn't think it would lead to this. Cue for trouble, there was this guy. Lets call him dickson [makes a lot of sense actually]. I am not going to detail on what kind of a person he was, how he made me feel, what we shared, and all of that, because it was all very very good [insert excerpts from Nicholas Sparks or Cecilia Ahern's books]. 

What we had was so wrong on so many levels, but it felt complete, complementing and comforting to our lives, so the good or the bad was overlooked and mushy emotions overtook seasoned virtues.

Truth.

I am not going to rampage his character or ridicule his cowardliness. I still believe he is a nice guy. As Michelle Monaghan says in the movie Made of Honor, 'you are perfect, but not for me'. [I just gave that dickhead too much credit, whatdahell, he's doomed anyway]. No really, he was nice but not good enough for me. I stand by how good of a person he was. But not to me. Nope. Assassinating someone's character is a reflection of my character, and I am not that character. He hurt me, real deep. But I still think he was a nice person. [Nice, that's the only word I can use without cringing]. My expectations and order of life differed from his. Simply put, I had higher standards. I own up when I screw up, I don't give up and disappear. 

As compelling and difficult it is to remain unaffected by his folly, giving him another chance would mean choosing docile feelings over personal respect and that I will never do.

Treason.

If he really cared like he made me believe, he would not have chickened out. If he felt that I mattered and would never leave me like he said, he would have tried to reconnect. I am young enough to still wear my heart on my sleeve but old enough to know who is worth it. Life is not a Boyzone song to just use words and stay put. You have to stand up when situations arise and prove to people who matter that they really matter. Else you will just be a well known stranger and that's who you will always be. 

Because I know I am not losing a good person, to me losing him is not a loss. Peace.

Lost love.

He fought with my classmate so he can be my partner in terrace shuttle. He smiled at me when he won him over. We were 7.

When we came near the car park, he eyeballed me to make my dress right as my petticoat strap was seen. He smiled at me when I pushed it in. We were 15.

He surprised me by standing outside my gym with an umbrella on a rainy day, he smiled at me when he saw how special I felt. We were 18.

He accompanied me on a long journey for my personal work. He didn't want me going alone. He asked me to rest my head on his shoulder when returning home in the train. He smiled at me when I shyed away. We were 21.

After many fights and heartbreaks, I asked him if we can start afresh. He said he is too hurt to invest in me again. I smiled at him because I knew we were coming to an end and I needed to protect myself. We were 23.

I accidently looked behind and he was there. It's on a Friday, please come, I said. But I didn't write him a card. He smiled at me and I felt nothing. We were 25.

I stalk him on social media sometimes. I listen to the song he composed and played for me. I recall all the priceless moments of joy we shared. He still smiles but not at me. We are 27.

Letting go.

How?
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In Jesus Name.

The end.

You're not a boy.

Stop walking like a guy they said. 

Put your legs together when you stand.
Don't laugh so loud.
Stop showing so much teeth when you smile.

Don't come near large groups of men they said.
Stop wearing fitting clothes.
Step out only for studying/work.
Make sure you return home by evening.

Don't adorn yourself to look beautiful.
It will invite unnecessary trouble they said.
Don't over expose your body or your personality.
Cover yourself, you're not a boy they said.

Ernakulam Episodes.

Alleppey Super Fast Express 22639 couldn't be any neater. Me and my mom-in-law picked up our dinner from Subway, Anna Nagar with medium spice sauces (you know you never want to use the train toilets) and had a hearty dinner in the train with a side of chit-chat followed by a trouble free sleep. When we reached Ernakulam, the B4 coach stopped exactly oppsite to a small gate which led us straight into the roads. To my amazement, in less than 5 mins we had checked into the hotel I had reserved the previous night. Walking my way to the hotel from the station? This was my first.

After a hot and slow shower and a not so quick breakfast, we got into an autorickshaw which took us near Lourdes Hospital in School Padi area. We were quickly received by the Catholic Missionary sister Maria who was the purpose of our visit. My MIL and Sister Maria were classmates in school and their friendship continues a good 35 years later too. She greeted us and welcomed us to her brother's home and we chatted over typical kerala snacks of chips and halwa. After a sumptuous lunch and a little rest, we left to see the kochi marine drive. Took a really long walk while I enjoyed the sunset amidst the gleaming waters. As I got busy with my note 3, MIL and sister spoke about a lot of things which I did not overhear :P Later we did a good amount of shopping for everyone, had dinner in a pretty isolated restaurant and headed to our hotel for a peaceful sleep unlike the one we had last night travelling on the tracks.

Today is the day of our return. It was packed with activities which included a part where we missed the return boat to the city. Haha, will tell you all about it. So we checked out from the hotel in the morning and left for a day of water treat to the Kochi marine drive. We got onto our boat - Unni Kuttan after the morning breakfast, the view was wonderful. We were in the kochi marine drive sailing towards Fort Kochi. We also saw the mouth of the Arabian Sea, the Willington Island and many other cool cruise liners like The World, CONARD and Queen Mary 2 lined up on the backwaters. The drive was pleasant and serene. I have always loved the waters.. be it the beach, back waters or even a lake. They bring out the peaceful side of me right on the surface.

Our first stop was at St. Francis Church where we visited the Vascodagama's tomb. 14 years after his demise, his son had taken his remains and now it is in a church in Germany. So this tomb was where his body once lay. Then we walked back to our boat and sailed another 10 mins before reaching Fort Kochi. This had 2 places of value. First was the Mattacherry palace. I am generally not a palace-visiting person or history-following person. So I didn't quite enjoy it. It had all the vessels and clothes and weaponry used in those days.


The next place was the Jewish synagogue. I had an immediate liking to the synagogue. I certainly enjoyed being there. I loved the peacefulness and calmness in the place. It brought to my remembrance so many Biblical situations that happened in a synagogue like this where the Lord Jesus had stood and preached. I was submerged in an ocean of imagination. The hanging lamps, glassware, candle sticks, the torah at the altar, the patterned mosaic, My memory of it is fresh like the morning light. I couldn't let myself leave from that place. The auto to it was soul - satisfying. It felt right, it felt holy, it felt magnificent all at the same time. Despite knowing we might be late to catch our boat back to the city, the joy in the synagogue propelled me to stay there.

We finally had to leave. So I quickly bought some booklets and postcards, took some pictures and we left. When we reached the dork, our boat was not waiting for us. Panic did not grip me. Sis Maria being a localite, suggested we take the kerela-govt. ferry. This ferry ride was all the more fun. I love watching the waters ripple and sway in a uniform motion. It's artistic and beautiful. We got home, crashed again for a wee - bit and left to the railway station. 

Meeting sister Maria was truly a blessing. She shared with us about the schools that they are running there in Ethiopia and the kind of challenges they face. Poverty and illiteracy has made the lives of those people harder. I pray and wish the light of God and the work that these wonderful catholic sisters are doing there changes things around for the people of that land. After all we are one nation,  under God. 

Finding Jesus.

Jesus is not a bad word. Unless you are not willing to help yourself and admit you need someone who will love you unconditionally and will not judge and ridicule you for your faults, don't bother to read further.

God created the Heaven and the Earth and all things in between. He is the Giver of life, the Captain of all people, and the Chiefest of Counselors. It amazes me that someone (Jesus) of such stature in all respects has unfulfilled desires. See God is great (we all would have heard that a lot) but let me tell you this. He is very poor too. He is so poor that sometimes He is longing for our attention. There are a zillion people on this planet, yet the Lord wants to spend time with you. Yes, you. He enjoys your company in prayer, thanksgiving, singing and praises. 

The heart of Jesus is so huge that it can forgive all the mistakes of all the people that are to ever walk on this earth and still so tender and compassionate that it breaks a little every time we hurt him. I wish people understand Jesus the right way. I do not understand how someone can ever misunderstand Him. I can give you an array of adjectives to describe His character and love for you, but I want to talk to you about the heart of Jesus. His heart is everything that is love, care, grace, affection, mercy, compassion, long-suffering, purity, and so much more.

You may not have been introduced to Jesus, may be you didn't have a Christian friend or may be the family you are from raised you in an orthodox and uptight manner that blinded your inner eyes. Whatever the case may be, its not late.. yet. More than anything Jesus is your friend, He has the potential to be your best friend and mentor. 

Just come to a place of peace and stillness in your heart and commune with Jesus. Try Him. Call on Him. Talk to Him. Ask Him. Seek Him. YOU WILL FIND HIM.

The other side to a story.

Just got back from kissing goodbye to my little nephew (3.5 y.o.) and niece (6 y.o.) at the Chennai International airport. They are adorable, let me tell you that much. Their mamma and dadda decided to move to Oman, Muscat for good. So these two babies are super excited going to a foreign land but on the same hand seeing their mamma cry as she kissed and hugged us, broke their tiny hearts. Children are the embodiment of guilelessness and to see their precious hearts pained and watch pristine tears roll was truly a difficult moment for me.  

Most tears proceed from hurt, others through guilt and few others from pity. But the tears from these two were from an emotion they could not even understand. Such is the heart of children. They did not know what they were missing or the understanding of being away from your extended family is hurtful until their mother introduced the other side of it when she let her cheeks get moist. I don't expect her to be cold or I don't suggest she should have contained her emotions, but the children were the happiest till the moment they witnessed another side to the jolly journey to a foreign land.

I wish the other side of some stories in life are hid to me as well. As much as I am curious to learn and inquisitive about new things, somethings in life are better if not known. To be informed is one thing and to be over informed is another. Living in this time of age, it's scary to not know enough and its disturbing if you know too much. Ignorance is indeed bliss and too much knowledge is certainly dangerous. However I am going to miss these doll faces <3

Life goes on..

Packing lunch for parents is quite a nice thing to do, so I hurriedly stuffed their boxes, as parents can also be like the kids that run late to school. It was around 10 am and I felt that the day was already over. I hate the feeling of having nothing to do in a world of infinite opportunities. Um, yeah, I heard how it sounded in your head. So let me rephrase it, "I hate myself for allowing me to feel that I have nothing to do in this world of infinite opportunities."

Unable to delete those defecating thoughts of nothingness and self pity, I went to my room and spiralled on my bed. I was telling myself in the ghastly way possible that I do not want to sleep away right now, I do not want to be succumbed to anything lecherous or defiling on thoughts or actions just because I feel empty inside. I lay there feeling bleak at heart and pained in my soul. I think I allowed myself to fall asleep for 15 mins, it felt like one of those cold nights, where the chillness in the atmosphere gives you the feeling of luxury and comfort, the natures way. I thought it was raining as I could hear the droplets of joy and the smell of sweet petrichor and I could feel my heart dampen with cognizance and willingness to shake off my doleful and pessimistic feeling about life.

I turned over and faced the ceiling, still having my eyes closed as I was too afraid to open my eyes to my pathetic self. I told myself under my breath those 3 magic words, 'Life goes on..' 

"Everyday is a choice we make to improve our present state of life or dig ourselves an early grave." I thought of all the underprivileged people on this planet, destroyed by the inability to grow out of their poverty, drug addiction, slavery, epidemic diseases and those dying in war camps and battlefield. I thought of the free life I have, without ANY of the above mentioned cripplement. Every moment is a decision we make to be happy and bold irrespective of the circumstances we are in.