Monday, November 2, 2009

Freedom at last!

Here is the story of my fried Raichel Dorothy.I would never trade myself, my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly! As I've aged, I've become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own wonderful friend!
I don't chide myself any more for eating that extra cookie or an extra desert, or for not making my bed properly, or for being so stupid on my patio, or a messy cooking or for buying that silly ---- I love! I am entitled to a treat! To be messy! To be extravagant!!
Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 AM and snore until noon? On an eve I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60 and 70's, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love ... I ‘ll. Yes, I will! I am a decimal Lilly and off the time! So what?

I’ll walk the beach in a swimming suit that is stretched over my lumping body, and will dive into the waves with nothing, if I choose to be, despite the pitying glances and the murmur of the crowed!
I would laugh in my mind and say to them, you pretty, you too, shall get old one day!
I have seen too many a friends, so careful about their lives, leave this world too soon! Before they earned the great freedom that comes with the silver gray!
I know, sometimes, I’m forgetful. But there again, it is a bliss! Some part of life is better forgotten!!
Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How it can’t break when you lose a loved one or someone ditches you or when an innocent child suffers, or even when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a careless car driver?
A heart never broken would never know the joy of being imperfect! Yah! Yah! Broken hearts are what give us compassion!
I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turn gray, and to have my youthful laughs forever etch deep grooves on my pretty face!
So, what? So many have never laughed, and died before their hair could turn silver! I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste my time lamenting over the spilt milk, or worry about my morrow! Let me bloom where I am planted!
Now, I care less about what other people think of me. Why, I don't question myself anymore!
After all I was a pillor for many and ’ve earned the right to be wrong!
yes, alsat ,I love the person I have become!!

 It ‘s easier to be positive when your hair has turned silver! Freedom at last ! Freedom atlast!
Friends ponder over!
NB: The photo graphs are downloaded from the net.Plese treat this as permission.
To stimulate your thought also visit
Trainer Ajith kumar Chelote


  1. great post.
    So true.
    my husband spoke the other day of just "who " is that says what the measure is? A little liposuction why does that make a person any more acceptable? It just blessed my heart to hear it.

  2. Very inspiring! I totally agree with you.
    I could so relate to:I’ll walk the beach in a swimming suit that is stretched over my lumping body, and will dive into the waves with nothing, if I choose to be, despite the pitying glances and the murmur of the crowed!
    And I will laugh at them too, for they don't know what they're missing. Time flies fast, we have to enjoy what we have, while we can.
    Peace and joy :)

  3. Dear Malou,
    Thank you for the comment .You are a breave women !And happy to note that we share same life philosophy!We may never again visit this palnet called earth after our brief sojorn!!yes, I agree with you.Let us live when we are alive!!

  4. Dear Donatta,
    Thank you verymuch for your comment.and happy to know thay you could relate.Let us not die before we are dead!

  5. extremely moving , positive , happy, heart warming post, shows us a little bit of your personality as well ajit! keep going and thanks a tonne for following my blog!

    PS: We should connect , i am also into soft skills as a freelancer, but use theatre as a tool :-)you seem to be a rockstar trainer!


  6. Dear Karhik,
    Tkank you very much.We shall surely plan some thing big.


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