BLOOM WHERE YOU ARE PLANTED
S ome things in my life just happened… and, I just accepted them. My birth, my parents, my brothers, my relations, my home, my faith and even my complexion. I was planted by God in a garden of His own choice… and I had no choice but to accept it. That was some fifty-three years ago. But, unlike the rose that blooms, all alone, in a pot, and unlike the daffodils that blossom along the wild wayside – all without any choice – my life had ample choices, all through. Though I could not choose the humble home in which I was born, I could choose the quality of living in that home; and though I could not choose my parents, I could choose the way I looked at them; Ditto for my brothers and relations… Ditto for my faith and even complexion. Yes, I had enough choices, at every step, all my life. I had the choice to remain in the pot where I was planted and allow the Sun, the wind and the Gardner to decide my fate… or to step out and walk in the Sun, singing along the wind and plant my own gardens...