Challenges...

The Japanese have always loved fresh fish. But the waters close to Japan have not held many fish for decades. So to feed the Japanese population, fishing boats got bigger and went farther than ever. The farther the fishermen went, the longer it took to bring in the fish. If the return trip took more than a few days, the fish were not fresh. The Japanese did not like the taste.

To solve this problem, fishing companies installed freezers on their boats. They would catch the fish and freeze them at sea. Freezers allowed the boats to go farther and stay longer. owever, the Japanese could taste the difference between fresh and frozen nd they did not like frozen fish. The
frozen fish brought a lower rice.

So fishing companies installed fish tanks. They would catch the fish and stuff them in the tanks, fin to fin. After a little hrashing around, the fish stopped moving. They were tired and dull, but alive.

Unfortunately, the Japanese could still taste the difference. Because the fish did not move for days, they lost their fresh-fish taste. The Japanese preferred the lively taste of fresh fish, not sluggish fish.

So how did Japanese fishing companies solve this problem? How do they get fresh-tasting fish to Japan?

To keep the fish tasting fresh, the Japanese fishing companies still put the fish in the tanks. But now they add a small shark to each tank. The shark eats a few fish, but most of the fish arrive in a very lively state.

The fish are challenged.

As soon as you reach your goals, such as finding a wonderful mate, starting a successful company, paying off your debts or whatever, you might lose your passion. You don't need to work so hard so you relax.
Like the Japanese fish problem, the best solution is simple. It was observed by L. Ron Hubbard in the early 1950's. "Man thrives, oddly enough, only in the presence of a challenging environment."

The Benefits of a Challenge

The more intelligent, persistent and competent you are, the more you enjoy a good problem. If your challenges are the correct size, and if you are steadily conquering those challenges, you are happy. You think of your challenges and get energized. You are excited to try new solutions. You have fun. You are alive!
Instead of avoiding challenges, jump into them. Beat the heck out of them. Enjoy the game.

If your challenges are too large or too numerous, do not give up. Failing makes you tired. Instead, reorganize. Find more determination, more knowledge, more help.

Don't create success and lie in it. You have resources, skills and abilities to make a difference.

Put a shark in your tank and see how far you can really go!

The non human...

From the stygian skies of the winter, the sun appeared as a prodigious ball of fire, erupting out its glinting and razor-sharp rays, lightening the murky conditions and scattering the wintry mist. At a snail's pace I came out of my old fashioned bed and went straight towards the balcony, just to feel the warmth of the sun prevailing in those chilly conditions. The mercury dipped the whole week and today was no better. Although no cold winds were blowing, but the blanket of coldness had engulfed the city making my shiny teeth to clatter in different musical tones.

Now my eyes searched the street in front of my house for Raghu, the lunatic. Though I’ve no special predilection for the insane, but Raghu was different. He once saved my life, by jumping into the river in which I had accidentally fallen. That act of humanity changed my life and we became sort of friends. I regularly meet him, helping him with food and other necessities. No one is aware of our little relationship and seriously I don’t want anybody to know about it. For I belong to those elite group of men who would engage in a forbidden relationship such as this, but would never express it to the world, for that defies the position in society they have. 

And finally I could see him walking barefoot on the ice cold asphalt road, wearing nothing but and aged cloak that too tattered from nearly all places. His hairs were so long that they nearly kissed the road. But still I couldn’t see any signs of the grotesque cold troubling him and seeing how valiantly he was facing the frigid conditions, the music stopped from my mouth. He was laughing at every person who turned up in that busy street. And then as soon as his eyes caught mine the barmy laughter turned into a pleasing smile. I tried to return him a smile but the mere sight of my neighbour stopped me from doing so. Mr. Sharma was looking directly at me as if I had done a perilous crime by looking at the lunatic. Then my eyes, which were fixed on the lunatic soon changed their direction as I looked the dark skies, looming like death above my head. My eyes were then forced to look back again at the street as the clamorous sound of screeching brakes reached my ears. I saw a car hitting the left knee of Raghu, forcing him to fly in air for a split second and then with a loud thud he fell on the well-built road. Blood soon trickled out of the injured knee, thick and red, as pure as mine and as pure as the others. Loosing no time Mr. Sharma and I reached the injured lunatic. A large mass of people had gathered around the broken body. A large volume of blood had amassed nearby Raghu and the volume augmented every coming second.  Jul 15 Yadav Act III: 

The driver of the car was none other than Pankaj, son of Mr. Sharma. He came out red-hot; fumes of anger came out of his face giving a scary appearance to his already hideous face. And then looking directly towards Raghu he said in a high tempered voice

‘You son of a pig, don’t you know that the road is meant for vehicles and not for crazy, lunatic and insane people like you. You deserve to die, but who the hell told you get yourself killed by my car.’ And then pointing to the broken car he continued 

‘You street dog, look what you’ve done to my car and rest assure I am not going to take you to the hospital. You are born to die and you will die you…’

And I was not astounded to find the people nodding their heads in approval; it looked as if in the market of this society the price of the metal was greater than that of blood. Mr. Sharma tried to calm Pankaj, but he went away kicking the stone that lay in his path. Raghu tried to get up but every time he did so he fell on the ground. No one helped him and he remained there motionless, desperately trying to get up but with no avail. But still he had the smile…

I tried to open my mouth in protest but the feeling that no one would agree with me forced my lips to stick to each other. And when the world is deaf its better to be dumb. The fire of my protest soon turned into ashes, which diffused in the air leaving no clue about it. No one including me even tried to help him for we all were humans and he was a lunatic…

I went upstairs, but he remained there, motionless and drenched with blood. The lunatics are not for the world and the world is certainly not from them.  

Even the rays of the refulgent sun failed to alleviate the aura of darkness casing my soul, composed of the culpability and resentment in me. My false ideals came before me and vanished in thin air. The very purpose of my existence ceased. 

And from that day I never saw him again, everyday my eyes searched frantically for him. But he seemed to be lost in the world of the inhuman humans…

A few months later 

I started my new car and then turning on the music I went away blissfully to attend the wedding ceremony of my distant cousin. The dimness of the dark night plus the heavy fog made it near impossible for me to drive. Hence I was forced to drive slowly, an art, which in fact I had never learnt. For a moment I took my eyes away off my track. I didn’t notice a handicap man crossing the road and bumped the car into him. The man flew a good few meters besides the road. I quickly jumped out of my car. When I went closer and saw his face I was appalled for it looked vaguely similar and it took me no time to identify him- Raghu. The first accident made him loose his left leg and now his right leg was broken and bleeding badly. 

‘Luckily’ Mr. Sharma and his son Pankaj were passing by. They came towards me and seeing the plight of the lunatic they understood the complexity of the problem. 

Pankaj said

‘So it has happened again. History has an uncanny knack of repeating itself. Uncle I told you that day, this lunatic is nuisance. I am sure it was his mistake’

I tried to speak the truth but I couldn’t and nodding my head I replied in a low voice uncharacteristic of my attitude

‘Yes, it was his mistake. He was walking carelessly’ I couldn’t say anything more as words found it difficult to come out of my erroneous mouth. My mouth dried up and my tongue stuck to the lower most part of my mouth. 

And then Mr. Sharma said patting hard on my back

‘Don’t worry Mr. Yadav, you continue your journey. Let this putrid pig fester here. Someone will take care of him just as it happened last time. Serves him jolly right.’

My watery eyes met Raghu’s. I could see a glimpse of hope in them. He wanted that someone to be me. He wanted me to save his life just as he had saved mine nearly a year ago. But I didn’t and went away walking briskly towards my car. He was still smiling and that smile haunted me all my way.  Jul 15 Yadav Act III: 

I was left being mortified at my state of despondency. The dance of life was being presented before my eyes, veracious in every facet, where humanity was a mirage and I was a part of it. Selfishness, which was copiously strewed, appeared to rule and the tactful society was the ruler. The invidious crime that I had done couldn’t be exculpated on the grounds of my false ideals but by the simple fact that in today’s modern world, man has been chained by the false conventions of the society, which have reduced his capacity to think and act in the right way. And till such chains are not broken the society will continue to justify crimes such as this, because for it the wrong is the right.

My desolated soul was laughing madly at me. My highly set moral values tumbled down to the ground. Maybe if I had helped him, he wouldn’t have lost his legs. Whenever I look myself in the mirror, I see not a human but a devil snaring out his fangs filled with the poison of social obligations.

Although he was a lunatic, he was still a human and I being a human was still a selfish demon.

The mercury is still dipping. I still stroll out in my balcony to feel the warmth of the smouldering sun. Raghu still saunters in the street, even without his legs. He still laughs at the people and he still smiles at me…

Love in all shades...

When love glows, it is bliss...

When it flows, it is compassion...

When it blows, it is anger...

When it ferments, it is jealousy...

When it is all "no's", it is hatred...

When it acts, it is perfection...

When love knows, it is Me...

Six short Stories with moral

A child told the mother: “Mum you are very beautiful today.”
Replied the mother : “Why?”


The child said : “ Because you did not get angry today .”


Moral of the story:


1. It is easy to possess beauty:- do not get angry.


2. Anger is temporary madness.

A man attended an interview for a job.

Along the corridor, he picked up a piece and threw it into a dustbin.

The interviewer passed by and saw it.

This man got the job.

Moral of the story:

Live with good habits, and you will be recognised.

A small boy worked as an apprentice in a bicycle shop.


A man sent a bicycle for repair.


After repairing the bicycle, this boy cleaned up the bicycle and it looked like a new one.


Other apprentices laughed at him for doing redundant work.


The second day after the owner claimed the bicycle back, this boy was pinched and offered a job.


Moral of the story :


1.Go the extra mile to be successful.


2. Doing more gains more & Doing less loses more.

The owner of a farm asked his child to work everyday at the farm.

His friend said to him : “ You do not have to make your son work so hard. The crops would grow just as good.”

Owner of the farm replied: “ I am not cultivating my crops, but my child.”

Moral of the story:

1. A simple way to groom a child is to let him experience some hardships.

2. If not cut, diamond would not turn into a jewel.

3. If not burnt, scrap would not turn into steel.

A shop is always brightly lit up.

Someone asked : “What brand of bulb are you using ? It is so lasting.”


The shop owner replied : “Our bulbs blew out frequently. We replaced them once a bulb blew out.”


Moral of the story:


1. It is simple to maintain brightness , change the bulbs regularly.


2. To brightening up everyday life : Endeavour to abandon unwholesome states of mind and make an effort to encourage wholesome states to grow.

The Power of Encouragement...

      Dante Gabriel Rossetti, the famous 19th-century poet and artist, was once approached by an elderly man. The old fellow had some sketches and drawings that he wanted Rossetti to look at and tell him if they were any good, or if they at least showed potential talent.      

      Rossetti looked them over carefully. After the first few, he knew that they were worthless, showing not the least sign of artistic talent. But Rossetti was a kind man, and he told the elderly man as gently as possible that the pictures were without much value and showed little talent. He was sorry, but he could not lie to the man. The visitor was disappointed, but seemed to expect Rossetti's judgment.
     
      He then apologized for taking up Rossetti's time, but would he just look at a few more drawings - these done by a young art student? Rossetti looked over the second batch of sketches and immediately became enthusiastic over the talent they revealed. "These," he said, "oh, these are good. This young student has great talent. He should be given every help and encouragement in his career as an artist. He has a great future if he will work hard and stick to it."
     
      Rossetti could see that the old fellow was deeply moved. "Who is this fine young artist?" he asked. "Your son?" "No," said the old man sadly. "It is me - 40 years ago. If only I had heard your praise then! For you see, I got discouraged and gave up - too soon."

This Is Good...

       An old story is told of a king in Africa who had a close friend with whom he grew up. The friend had a habit of looking at every situation that ever occurred in his life (positive or negative) and remarking, "This is good!"

       One day the king and his friend were out on a hunting expedition. The friend would load and prepare the guns for the king. The friend had apparently done something wrong in preparing one of the guns, for after taking the gun from his friend, the king fired it and his thumb was blown off. Examining the situation the friend remarked as usual, "This is good!" To which the king replied, "No, this is NOT good!" and proceeded to send his friend to jail. 

       About a year later, the king was hunting in an area that he should have known to stay clear of. Cannibals captured him and took him to their village. They tied his hands, stacked some wood, set up a stake and bound him to the stake. As they came near to set fire to the wood, they noticed that the king was missing a thumb. Being superstitious, they never ate anyone that was less than whole. So untying the king, they sent him on his way. 

      As he returned home, he was reminded of the event that had taken his thumb and felt remorse for his treatment of his friend. He went immediately to the jail to speak with his friend. "You were right," he said, "it was good that my thumb was blown off." And he proceeded to tell the friend all that had just happened. "And so I am very sorry for sending you to jail for so long. It was bad for me to do this." 

"No," his friend replied, "This is good!" "What do you mean,'This is good'? How could it be good that I sent my friend to jail for a year?" "If I had NOT been in jail, I would have been with you."

- Author Unknown