Into your eyes, I see my world,
A world full of countless words,
Each having different story,
Trying to colour in its glory....
Like a love of reservoir,
Your eyes are intense with fire,
Take me away from this jungle,
The world is too complicate to handle....
Like a fresh breath of air,
Your eyes are brimming with care,
Healing my deep wound,
Spreading happiness around.....
Bewitching beauty of your eyes,
Limpid & bright,
Sharing a strong bonding,
It’s a passion never ending.....
Sky looked clear & air was tight,
You entered into my life,
Showing me care & making me delight,
Stars were smiling at me from the height.....
Like a gentle breeze,
You displaced all dud tracks,
And coloured my world,
In the harmonious twilight.....
Holding my hand,
You gave me a reason to live,
A beautiful life,
Life full of painted flowers,
Delicate sunshine & rare rainbows.....
An indelible smile,
Smile bringing life to sleepless eyes,
A spark in the eyes,
Spark that mellow down the fire.....
An immense bliss,
Bliss that never fades away,
A virgin dream,
A dream that I have never seen before.....
I nurtured my love,
In the shadow of your care,
Care causing me to smile back,
But all that I love is,
Only you......
In this dark deadly night,
I am still awake,
Struggling with my thoughts,
In the midst of pure emotions,
Wanting you to share a notion......
Why this tiny eyes looking for you,
Why these empty hands wanna hold you,
Why this shapeless life melting in you,
Why this pure heart longing for you.......
Each my tears singing sweet song,
You will come here all along,
Giving me luxury of a lovely lounge,
One single question still ringing in my mind,
Why this pure heart longing for you......
Myriad of desire rendering into my heart,
Shaking my mystic faith for your part,
I don’t know why, I am losing my vigour,
Making me enfeeble day by day,
Why this pure heart longing for you......
I know we will meet a day or age,
Leaving an inimitable imprint for future,
We will zoom ahead with torrid rain,
Leaving all these nasty pain......
I come to you, you come to me,
Let’s make an ideal world,
Mingle with me, with all your desire,
Give me a complete shape, with your fire,
Still I am thinking why this pure heart,
Longing for you.......................
Sunday, July 3, 2011
i calling out.........shamsky
Into your eyes, I see my world,
A world full of countless words,
Each having different story,
Trying to colour in its glory....
Like a love of reservoir,
Your eyes are intense with fire,
Take me away from this jungle,
The world is too complicate to handle....
Like a fresh breath of air,
Your eyes are brimming with care,
Healing my deep wound,
Spreading happiness around.....
Bewitching beauty of your eyes,
Limpid & bright,
Sharing a strong bonding,
It’s a passion never ending.....
Sky looked clear & air was tight,
You entered into my life,
Showing me care & making me delight,
Stars were smiling at me from the height.....
Like a gentle breeze,
You displaced all dud tracks,
And coloured my world,
In the harmonious twilight.....
Holding my hand,
You gave me a reason to live,
A beautiful life,
Life full of painted flowers,
Delicate sunshine & rare rainbows.....
An indelible smile,
Smile bringing life to sleepless eyes,
A spark in the eyes,
Spark that mellow down the fire.....
An immense bliss,
Bliss that never fades away,
A virgin dream,
A dream that I have never seen before.....
I nurtured my love,
In the shadow of your care,
Care causing me to smile back,
But all that I love is,
Only you......
In this dark deadly night,
I am still awake,
Struggling with my thoughts,
In the midst of pure emotions,
Wanting you to share a notion......
Why this tiny eyes looking for you,
Why these empty hands wanna hold you,
Why this shapeless life melting in you,
Why this pure heart longing for you.......
Each my tears singing sweet song,
You will come here all along,
Giving me luxury of a lovely lounge,
One single question still ringing in my mind,
Why this pure heart longing for you......
Myriad of desire rendering into my heart,
Shaking my mystic faith for your part,
I don’t know why, I am losing my vigour,
Making me enfeeble day by day,
Why this pure heart longing for you......
I know we will meet a day or age,
Leaving an inimitable imprint for future,
We will zoom ahead with torrid rain,
Leaving all these nasty pain......
I come to you, you come to me,
Let’s make an ideal world,
Mingle with me, with all your desire,
Give me a complete shape, with your fire,
Still I am thinking why this pure heart,
Longing for you.......................
A world full of countless words,
Each having different story,
Trying to colour in its glory....
Like a love of reservoir,
Your eyes are intense with fire,
Take me away from this jungle,
The world is too complicate to handle....
Like a fresh breath of air,
Your eyes are brimming with care,
Healing my deep wound,
Spreading happiness around.....
Bewitching beauty of your eyes,
Limpid & bright,
Sharing a strong bonding,
It’s a passion never ending.....
Sky looked clear & air was tight,
You entered into my life,
Showing me care & making me delight,
Stars were smiling at me from the height.....
Like a gentle breeze,
You displaced all dud tracks,
And coloured my world,
In the harmonious twilight.....
Holding my hand,
You gave me a reason to live,
A beautiful life,
Life full of painted flowers,
Delicate sunshine & rare rainbows.....
An indelible smile,
Smile bringing life to sleepless eyes,
A spark in the eyes,
Spark that mellow down the fire.....
An immense bliss,
Bliss that never fades away,
A virgin dream,
A dream that I have never seen before.....
I nurtured my love,
In the shadow of your care,
Care causing me to smile back,
But all that I love is,
Only you......
In this dark deadly night,
I am still awake,
Struggling with my thoughts,
In the midst of pure emotions,
Wanting you to share a notion......
Why this tiny eyes looking for you,
Why these empty hands wanna hold you,
Why this shapeless life melting in you,
Why this pure heart longing for you.......
Each my tears singing sweet song,
You will come here all along,
Giving me luxury of a lovely lounge,
One single question still ringing in my mind,
Why this pure heart longing for you......
Myriad of desire rendering into my heart,
Shaking my mystic faith for your part,
I don’t know why, I am losing my vigour,
Making me enfeeble day by day,
Why this pure heart longing for you......
I know we will meet a day or age,
Leaving an inimitable imprint for future,
We will zoom ahead with torrid rain,
Leaving all these nasty pain......
I come to you, you come to me,
Let’s make an ideal world,
Mingle with me, with all your desire,
Give me a complete shape, with your fire,
Still I am thinking why this pure heart,
Longing for you.......................
wow
its a new generation that we are living in and with the recent developments in the sector especially after meeting you, i really have seen it all and have come to realize its all the same regardless of the race, location and seting at hand.
the very first of projects we successful made out on was the very moment we had together at MDD. I cant forget all the moments and the experience least put it the smiles and all that transpired. The Rays of hope shined through you and through the light that you showered onto me showed me that life is worthy giving a second try. we oftenly tend to trust the wrong elements but what is right and wrong is something relative especially since we are all living in this highly dynamic e-age. The best of all the moments we spent especially building up what had broken, all those moments are a reason to my renewed perspective on life, the reason as to why i still breathe and endure all the calamities that i have had to endure for a while. love you always to the ends of time as you have always been so supportive.
kind regards. ma loyal companion
rays of hope. wow shamsky
this is how much you have done it in ma life>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Moving around in a empty plain,
Entangled with my thought in a big constrain,
Nothing to find & nothing to lose,
No wonder I was confused.....
Barrage of questions was hitting my head,
Pushing me ahead in a dark dead,
Unable to find a ray of hope,
Not knowing how to cope with.....
I saw a change in me,
I mustered my courage up,
Hope was there to blink upon me,
Breaking all the shackles,
And set me free.....
Now, I am in a new world,
Waiting for a new day,
A day full of fire,
Meeting all my desire,
Dancing on my tune,
Hoping to come soon......
Saturday, March 26, 2011
small things define whom we are.
DONT CRY CAZ I HAVE ALREADY DONE THAT FOR ALL OF YOU GUYS.
In Phoenix , Arizona , a 26-year-old mother stared down at her 6 year old son, who was dying of terminal leukemia.
Although her heart was filled with sadness, she also had a strong feeling of determination.
Like any parent, she wanted her son to grow up and fulfill all his dreams. Now that was no longer possible.
The leukemia would see to that. But she still wanted her son's dream to come true.
She took her son's hand and asked, 'Billy, did you ever think about what you wanted
to be once you grew up ?
Did you ever dream and wish what you would do with your life ?'
Mommy, 'I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up.'
Mom smiled back and said, 'Let's see if we can make your wish come true.'
Later that day she went to her local fire Department in Phoenix , Arizona , where she met Fireman Bob, who had a heart as big as Phoenix .
She explained her son's final wish and asked if it might be possible
to give her 6 year-old son a ride around the block on a fire engine.
Fireman Bob said, 'Look, we can do better than that. If you'll have your son ready at seven o'clock Wednesday morning, we'll make
him an honorary Fireman for the whole day. He can come down to the fire station, eat with us,
go out on all the fire calls, the whole nine yards !
And if you'll give us his sizes, we'll get a real fire uniform for him, with a real fire hat - not a toy -- one-with the emblem of the Phoenix Fire Department on it, a yellow slicker like we wear and rubber boots.'
'They're all manufactured right here in Phoenix , so we can get them fast.'
Three days later Fireman Bob picked up Billy, dressed him in his uniform and escorted him from his hospital bed to the waiting hook and ladder truck.
Billy got to sit on the back of the truck and help steer it back to the fire station. He was in heaven.
There were three fire calls in Phoenix that day and Billy got to go out on all three calls.
He rode in the different fire engines, the Paramedic's' van,
and even the fire chief's car.
He was also videotaped for the
local news program.
Having his dream come true,
with all the love and attention that was lavished upon him, so deeply touched Billy, that he lived three months longer than any doctor thought possible.
One night all of his vital signs began to drop dramatically and the head nurse, who believed in the hospice concept - that no one should die alone, began to call the family members to the hospital.
Then she remembered the day Billy had spent as a Fireman, so she called the Fire Chief and asked if it would be possible to send a fireman in uniform to the hospital to be with Billy as he made his transition.
The chief replied, 'We can do better than that. We'll be there in five minutes. Will you please do me a favor ?
When you hear the sirens screaming and see the lights flashing, will you announce over the PA system that there is not a fire ?' 'It's the department coming to see one of its finest members one more time. And will you open the window to his room ?'
About five minutes later a hook and ladder truck arrived at the hospital and extended its ladder up to Billy's third floor open window --------
16 fire-fighters climbed up the ladder into Billy's room !!
With his mother's permission, they hugged him and held him and told him how much they LOVED him.
With his dying breath, Billy looked up at the fire chief and said, 'Chief, am I really a fireman now ?'
'Billy, you are, and The Head Chief,
God, is holding your hand,' the chief said.
With those words, Billy smiled and said, 'I know, He's been holding my hand all day, and the angels have been singing.'
He closed his eyes one last time.
This story is powerful and there is nothing attached.
Uplifting stories are one of the best gifts we receive. There is no cost, but a lot of rewards, so let's
continue to uplift one another~
True Story
In Phoenix , Arizona , a 26-year-old mother stared down at her 6 year old son, who was dying of terminal leukemia.
Although her heart was filled with sadness, she also had a strong feeling of determination.
Like any parent, she wanted her son to grow up and fulfill all his dreams. Now that was no longer possible.
The leukemia would see to that. But she still wanted her son's dream to come true.
She took her son's hand and asked, 'Billy, did you ever think about what you wanted
to be once you grew up ?
Did you ever dream and wish what you would do with your life ?'
Mommy, 'I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up.'
Mom smiled back and said, 'Let's see if we can make your wish come true.'
Later that day she went to her local fire Department in Phoenix , Arizona , where she met Fireman Bob, who had a heart as big as Phoenix .
She explained her son's final wish and asked if it might be possible
to give her 6 year-old son a ride around the block on a fire engine.
Fireman Bob said, 'Look, we can do better than that. If you'll have your son ready at seven o'clock Wednesday morning, we'll make
him an honorary Fireman for the whole day. He can come down to the fire station, eat with us,
go out on all the fire calls, the whole nine yards !
And if you'll give us his sizes, we'll get a real fire uniform for him, with a real fire hat - not a toy -- one-with the emblem of the Phoenix Fire Department on it, a yellow slicker like we wear and rubber boots.'
'They're all manufactured right here in Phoenix , so we can get them fast.'
Three days later Fireman Bob picked up Billy, dressed him in his uniform and escorted him from his hospital bed to the waiting hook and ladder truck.
Billy got to sit on the back of the truck and help steer it back to the fire station. He was in heaven.
There were three fire calls in Phoenix that day and Billy got to go out on all three calls.
He rode in the different fire engines, the Paramedic's' van,
and even the fire chief's car.
He was also videotaped for the
local news program.
Having his dream come true,
with all the love and attention that was lavished upon him, so deeply touched Billy, that he lived three months longer than any doctor thought possible.
One night all of his vital signs began to drop dramatically and the head nurse, who believed in the hospice concept - that no one should die alone, began to call the family members to the hospital.
Then she remembered the day Billy had spent as a Fireman, so she called the Fire Chief and asked if it would be possible to send a fireman in uniform to the hospital to be with Billy as he made his transition.
The chief replied, 'We can do better than that. We'll be there in five minutes. Will you please do me a favor ?
When you hear the sirens screaming and see the lights flashing, will you announce over the PA system that there is not a fire ?' 'It's the department coming to see one of its finest members one more time. And will you open the window to his room ?'
About five minutes later a hook and ladder truck arrived at the hospital and extended its ladder up to Billy's third floor open window --------
16 fire-fighters climbed up the ladder into Billy's room !!
With his mother's permission, they hugged him and held him and told him how much they LOVED him.
With his dying breath, Billy looked up at the fire chief and said, 'Chief, am I really a fireman now ?'
'Billy, you are, and The Head Chief,
God, is holding your hand,' the chief said.
With those words, Billy smiled and said, 'I know, He's been holding my hand all day, and the angels have been singing.'
He closed his eyes one last time.
This story is powerful and there is nothing attached.
Uplifting stories are one of the best gifts we receive. There is no cost, but a lot of rewards, so let's
continue to uplift one another~
True Story
Thursday, December 9, 2010
*Invisible Mother*..
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?'
Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more! Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude -but now, they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England . Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking round at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: 'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof, No one will ever see it. And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does.
No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become. At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction.. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness.
It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for 3 hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there..'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
life is so spicied.................up n down
Ordinary: People who live in glass houses should not throw
stones.
Professor: Individuals who make their abodes in vitreous
edifices would be advised to refrain from catapulting perilous
projectiles.
Ordinary: Twinkle, twinkle, little star!
Professor: Scintillate, scintillate, asteroid minim!
Ordinary: All that glitters is not gold.
Professor: All articles that coruscate with resplendence
are not truly auriferous.
Ordinary: Beggars are not choosers.
Professor: Sorting on the part of mendicants must be
interdicted.
Ordinary: Dead men tell no tales.
Professor: Male cadavers are incapable of rendering any
testimony.
Ordinary: Beginner's luck!
Professor: Neophyte's serendipity!
Ordinary: A rolling stone gathers no moss.
Professor: A revolving lithic conglomerate accumulates no congeries
of small, green, biophytic plant.
Ordinary: Birds of a feather flock together.
Professor: Members of an avian species of identical
plumage tend to congregate.
Ordinary: Beauty is only skin-deep.
Professor: Pulchritude possesses solely cutaneous
profundity.
Ordinary: Cleanliness is godliness.
Professor: Freedom from incrustations of grime is
contiguous to rectitude.
Ordinary: There is no use crying over spilt milk.
Professor: It is fruitless to become lachrymose of
precipitately departed lactile fluid.
Ordinary: You can't try to teach an old dog new tricks.
Professor: It is fruitless to attempt to indoctrinate a
superannuated canine with innovative maneuvers.
Ordinary: Look before you leap.
Professor: Surveillance should precede saltation.
Ordinary: He who laughs last, laughs best.
Professor: The person presenting the ultimate cachinnation
possesses thereby the optimal cachinnation.
Ordinary: All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
Professor: Exclusive dedication to necessitous chores
without interludes of hedonistic diversion renders Jack a hebetudinous
fellow.
Ordinary: Where there's smoke, there's fire!
Professor: Where there are visible vapours having their provenance
in ignited carbonaceous materials, there is conflagration.
Difference between an ordinary English-speaking person and a Professor
Ordinary: People who live in glass houses should not throw stones.
Professor: Individuals who make their abodes in vitreous edifices would be advised to refrain from catapulting perilous projectiles.
Ordinary: Twinkle, twinkle, little star!
Professor: Scintillate, scintillate, asteroid minim!
Ordinary: All that glitters is not gold.
Professor: All articles that coruscate with resplendence are not truly auriferous.
Ordinary: Beggars are not choosers.
Professor: Sorting on the part of mendicants must be interdicted.
Ordinary: Dead men tell no tales.
Professor: Male cadavers are incapable of rendering any testimony.
Ordinary: Beginner's luck!
Professor: Neophyte's serendipity!
Ordinary: A rolling stone gathers no moss.
Professor: A revolving lithic conglomerate accumulates no congeries of small, green, biophytic plant.
Ordinary: Birds of a feather flock together.
Professor: Members of an avian species of identical plumage tend to congregate.
Ordinary: Beauty is only skin-deep.
Professor: Pulchritude possesses solely cutaneous profundity.
Ordinary: Cleanliness is godliness.
Professor: Freedom from incrustations of grime is contiguous to rectitude.
Ordinary: There is no use crying over spilt milk.
Professor: It is fruitless to become lachrymose of precipitately departed lactile fluid.
Ordinary: You can't try to teach an old dog new tricks.
Professor: It is fruitless to attempt to indoctrinate a superannuated canine with innovative maneuvers.
Ordinary: Look before you leap.
Professor: Surveillance should precede saltation.
Ordinary: He who laughs last, laughs best.
Professor: The person presenting the ultimate cachinnation possesses thereby the optimal cachinnation.
Ordinary: All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
Professor: Exclusive dedication to necessitous chores without interludes of hedonistic diversion renders Jack a hebetudinous fellow.
Ordinary: Where there's smoke, there's fire!
Professor: Where there are visible vapours having their provenance in ignited carbonaceous materials, there is conflagration.
stones.
Professor: Individuals who make their abodes in vitreous
edifices would be advised to refrain from catapulting perilous
projectiles.
Ordinary: Twinkle, twinkle, little star!
Professor: Scintillate, scintillate, asteroid minim!
Ordinary: All that glitters is not gold.
Professor: All articles that coruscate with resplendence
are not truly auriferous.
Ordinary: Beggars are not choosers.
Professor: Sorting on the part of mendicants must be
interdicted.
Ordinary: Dead men tell no tales.
Professor: Male cadavers are incapable of rendering any
testimony.
Ordinary: Beginner's luck!
Professor: Neophyte's serendipity!
Ordinary: A rolling stone gathers no moss.
Professor: A revolving lithic conglomerate accumulates no congeries
of small, green, biophytic plant.
Ordinary: Birds of a feather flock together.
Professor: Members of an avian species of identical
plumage tend to congregate.
Ordinary: Beauty is only skin-deep.
Professor: Pulchritude possesses solely cutaneous
profundity.
Ordinary: Cleanliness is godliness.
Professor: Freedom from incrustations of grime is
contiguous to rectitude.
Ordinary: There is no use crying over spilt milk.
Professor: It is fruitless to become lachrymose of
precipitately departed lactile fluid.
Ordinary: You can't try to teach an old dog new tricks.
Professor: It is fruitless to attempt to indoctrinate a
superannuated canine with innovative maneuvers.
Ordinary: Look before you leap.
Professor: Surveillance should precede saltation.
Ordinary: He who laughs last, laughs best.
Professor: The person presenting the ultimate cachinnation
possesses thereby the optimal cachinnation.
Ordinary: All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
Professor: Exclusive dedication to necessitous chores
without interludes of hedonistic diversion renders Jack a hebetudinous
fellow.
Ordinary: Where there's smoke, there's fire!
Professor: Where there are visible vapours having their provenance
in ignited carbonaceous materials, there is conflagration.
Difference between an ordinary English-speaking person and a Professor
Ordinary: People who live in glass houses should not throw stones.
Professor: Individuals who make their abodes in vitreous edifices would be advised to refrain from catapulting perilous projectiles.
Ordinary: Twinkle, twinkle, little star!
Professor: Scintillate, scintillate, asteroid minim!
Ordinary: All that glitters is not gold.
Professor: All articles that coruscate with resplendence are not truly auriferous.
Ordinary: Beggars are not choosers.
Professor: Sorting on the part of mendicants must be interdicted.
Ordinary: Dead men tell no tales.
Professor: Male cadavers are incapable of rendering any testimony.
Ordinary: Beginner's luck!
Professor: Neophyte's serendipity!
Ordinary: A rolling stone gathers no moss.
Professor: A revolving lithic conglomerate accumulates no congeries of small, green, biophytic plant.
Ordinary: Birds of a feather flock together.
Professor: Members of an avian species of identical plumage tend to congregate.
Ordinary: Beauty is only skin-deep.
Professor: Pulchritude possesses solely cutaneous profundity.
Ordinary: Cleanliness is godliness.
Professor: Freedom from incrustations of grime is contiguous to rectitude.
Ordinary: There is no use crying over spilt milk.
Professor: It is fruitless to become lachrymose of precipitately departed lactile fluid.
Ordinary: You can't try to teach an old dog new tricks.
Professor: It is fruitless to attempt to indoctrinate a superannuated canine with innovative maneuvers.
Ordinary: Look before you leap.
Professor: Surveillance should precede saltation.
Ordinary: He who laughs last, laughs best.
Professor: The person presenting the ultimate cachinnation possesses thereby the optimal cachinnation.
Ordinary: All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
Professor: Exclusive dedication to necessitous chores without interludes of hedonistic diversion renders Jack a hebetudinous fellow.
Ordinary: Where there's smoke, there's fire!
Professor: Where there are visible vapours having their provenance in ignited carbonaceous materials, there is conflagration.
Monday, October 4, 2010
DON’T CHEAT YOURSELF. PAY YOUR TAXES.
Its quite a long time we have been in business and things are quite doing so well, yeah, its really good news to hold a business regardless of the nature it falls into, but one thing that we all have got in common is that, we owe our clients their due. As all of us know, directly or indirectly our clients are always those we care for the most, after all they are the reason to why business are sustained and why many employers are ready to invest thousands of shillings everyday to the various advertising agencies. The authorities as we all know it, are the ones rightly designated by virtue of our constitution to do the collection of our taxes and a review of the benefits will make us reconsider our position especially if we have been cheating on our loved ones, by giving them their share as a token of appreciation for all that they continue to do for us especially by honestly filling in our tax returns (URA).
Accessibility to our social services improves as the civil servants will be content with their pay hence lessen and in the long term eliminate strikes, riots in the civil service, the worst being witnessed recently in South Africa. When one goes to Mulago Hospital, it will be a miracle to be worked on at the same rate you would witness in a private hospital, and also talking about the private wing whereby if you don’t have more than 20,000/= you should forget about any response and move to the public wing, crowds of desperate patients waiting for doctors who hardly ever show up at their designated hours, and as its seen often, some blame the doctors, but in reality it’s the government which cant afford them the pay they deserve, so as usual of human nature, they behave as observed and justifying further the creating of a private wing in a national referral hospital. As most of us blame the gov’t for failing to serve, in reality, we are to blame, because we cheat ourselves and at the same time we demand for what we didn’t help to come true. If only many of us would be more loyal, a great improvement would be witnessed in this sector for the betterment of our lifespan fellow Ugandans. When we turn to the infransture especially the roads, actually many journalists have identified Kampala city as the pothole city of sub-saharan Africa and its true because of all the capital cities in these countries, Kampala overtakes them. Well, some of us would say its due to the shoddy work, corruption and lack of transparency especially as witnessed during the offering of tenders for CHOGM road construction, which roads started collapsing before the end of the year and just to remind us, the loans always the gov’t acquires, its you and me, who pay for them. Imagine our taxes are paid fairly to over ¾ of the URA projections for every financial year, although we cant change many things in politics especially on how the visionaries are pushing the nation, we would effect our comfort and lessen on the traffic and have a great reason to ask the government whenever it fails to perform as per every financial year budget, but with most of us playing the game, milking our nation without feeding it just as fmr. president Idd Amin put it before the Asians of his day: “milking a cow without feeding it,” nothing is yet to change. As the old saying goes, you never learn how great your neighbors are good at cooking meals until you visit them one day lest you praise your mama for being the best cook in the world, I would say, visit any of our neighbors especially where we can afford or visit through the internet. I hope you have hard of the Thika highway just one of the many 8 lane highways projects in progress as here, we are busy failing ourselves and not feeding our pearl, or many of us are in for shankwanzi?? Let’s do our part, and give what belongs to the authorities, to the authorities by paying our taxes.
Accessibility to our social services improves as the civil servants will be content with their pay hence lessen and in the long term eliminate strikes, riots in the civil service, the worst being witnessed recently in South Africa. When one goes to Mulago Hospital, it will be a miracle to be worked on at the same rate you would witness in a private hospital, and also talking about the private wing whereby if you don’t have more than 20,000/= you should forget about any response and move to the public wing, crowds of desperate patients waiting for doctors who hardly ever show up at their designated hours, and as its seen often, some blame the doctors, but in reality it’s the government which cant afford them the pay they deserve, so as usual of human nature, they behave as observed and justifying further the creating of a private wing in a national referral hospital. As most of us blame the gov’t for failing to serve, in reality, we are to blame, because we cheat ourselves and at the same time we demand for what we didn’t help to come true. If only many of us would be more loyal, a great improvement would be witnessed in this sector for the betterment of our lifespan fellow Ugandans. When we turn to the infransture especially the roads, actually many journalists have identified Kampala city as the pothole city of sub-saharan Africa and its true because of all the capital cities in these countries, Kampala overtakes them. Well, some of us would say its due to the shoddy work, corruption and lack of transparency especially as witnessed during the offering of tenders for CHOGM road construction, which roads started collapsing before the end of the year and just to remind us, the loans always the gov’t acquires, its you and me, who pay for them. Imagine our taxes are paid fairly to over ¾ of the URA projections for every financial year, although we cant change many things in politics especially on how the visionaries are pushing the nation, we would effect our comfort and lessen on the traffic and have a great reason to ask the government whenever it fails to perform as per every financial year budget, but with most of us playing the game, milking our nation without feeding it just as fmr. president Idd Amin put it before the Asians of his day: “milking a cow without feeding it,” nothing is yet to change. As the old saying goes, you never learn how great your neighbors are good at cooking meals until you visit them one day lest you praise your mama for being the best cook in the world, I would say, visit any of our neighbors especially where we can afford or visit through the internet. I hope you have hard of the Thika highway just one of the many 8 lane highways projects in progress as here, we are busy failing ourselves and not feeding our pearl, or many of us are in for shankwanzi?? Let’s do our part, and give what belongs to the authorities, to the authorities by paying our taxes.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)