There were two farmers who lived on a moutain. The mountain was visited by strong winds and storms every year and there was always large scale damage. This had been going on for generations and yet neither of the families had ever moved out. Every year their house would break down and they would hav to take shelter in a little concrete cabin they built below the house. When the storms went away, they would rebuild their homes and carry on with their lives.

Farmer A continued this and it had kind of become like tradition. Farmer B was unhappy and he wanted to do something about it. He was recently blessed with a baby boy. He was worried that the baby wuld be scared if the house broke every year. He was worried the baby boy, when he grew up, would help rebuilding the house just as he had been doing since his childhood. He was worried, the boy would not be able to study and work for a better life. Thus, the farmer decided that he would make the whole house of concrete and as strong asa that little underground cabin. He did not wait for the storms to break his home, he went about it himself. He found it very hard to do so, because every corner reminded him of his past- how he used to play with his brothers in the corner, how they used to eat around the fire in the kitchen on winter days, how they would watch stars from the bedroom window...with a tear in his eye, he broke the house he had bult with his own hands. And had a new one built entirely of concrete. Farmer A chided him for breaking tradition, for giving up his memories, for selling out to 'modernity'...and for giving up so easily. Farmer B did not care what he said. Over the years, the boy had a little sister too...they played, went to school, went to college in the city and had fulfilling careers. Never once did they or their father hav to rebuild the house again even though the storms kept coming. They could just sit inside together as a family and drink coffee and have cake. After a few years, when Farmer A had and his family had started taking shelter, they would share the coffee and cake with them. Despite leading hectic lives of their own in different cities, the two kids always came back to this home where they had all their happy memories and none of which included rebuilding the home. It was always the same walls, the same corners, the same fireplace. And they loved coming home. And their father, Farmer B was a very happy man for he knew that even though he gave up his memories, he built new ones on those and these were even better.

Farmer A meanwhile also had two children but he never rebuilt his home in concrete because he was too attached to the same walls of his broken house and would rebuild on those itself. The children always helped out when the house broke down during the storms. Precious time was lost in rebuilding and it affected their studies. They preferred to hang out at Farmer B's house because, it had more light, was more warm and the two children gave them nice company. Farmer A often thought about putting up a concrete house but was always afraid that it would cost him a lot of money and tnat he would never be able to pay the loan and that if this one broke down, it would be even more expensive to rebuild...and most of all, all his memories would be buried in the ruins of his old house. His kids grew up and went to college and did not visit him that often. There was noone to help him when the house broke. He was getting old and he could only rebuild small portions of his house which, over the years, had started to look like a war-ravaged monument rather than a house. The familiar walls and the corners, and the fireplace..all were unrecognisable. Finally, Farmer B invited him to his own house and made him a part of his family. And they made new memories of their own- even in their old age.

Footprints in time can be wiped too
just as they r made
but we never go back to make them again
but start where we are
for the past doesnt call out to us
it asks us to learn
it asks to see
it asks us to believe
that life was once what it was
and it is what could have been then
and could be what it is not today
but something you might want
or like it to say.
Pride will kill you
Disrespect will dishonor you
Detachment will haunt you
Attachment will strangle you
But fear will destroy you
and thats all you'll ever know
and that's what will control you.
Believe life is a book
whose pages just keep turning
and should not stop till it has to
and when it does,
it should always make you smile.