Ample of Goodness but Actually Story Ends!

Ample of Goodness, but the Story Ends!

Last night, I fought with my wife. Frustrated, I decided not to talk to her for at least a day. I lay next to her, refusing to say goodnight—just to prove my dominance. Maybe I was right, maybe I was wrong, but I believed things would be fine soon.

The next morning, as I stepped out of bed, she wasn’t there. I didn’t look for her—my ego stopped me. But something felt incomplete. My mind was clouded with thoughts, doubts, and uneasiness. I convinced myself it was just the aftereffect of our fight.

I later noticed she had gone to the temple, probably to complain about me to God. I was relieved she hadn’t spoken to her parents about it. Avoiding our bedroom, I got ready and left for work.

Surprisingly, the roads were empty. No honking, no rush—just me, riding my vehicle as if I were flying. It felt refreshing, almost surreal.

But reality hit me when I reached my office. The security guard, who usually greeted me with a cheerful “Good morning, sir,” ignored me. I shrugged it off—maybe he had a bad night too.

By 11 AM, I realized something was off. My office was empty. None of my colleagues were around. Even the housekeeping lady didn’t bring my usual coffee. The silence was unsettling. Feeling suffocated, I decided to step out.

I walked to the park near my office and sat alone. Oddly, I wasn’t even hungry. Lost in thought, I began speaking to myself.

Everyone should talk to their own soul. Only then do we understand what we truly need.

I finally decided to call my wife. But I stopped. Instead, I planned to go home early and surprise her.

On the way, memories of our journey together flooded my mind—our marriage, our ups and downs, and all the times I had let my ego take over. Suddenly, I made a firm decision: I would live for my wife and our child. I would change.

As I neared my street, I saw some of my office colleagues standing outside. I didn’t greet them—I was too eager to see my wife.

But something felt wrong. A crowd had gathered outside my house. My heart pounded as I pushed through. Then, I saw my child in a relative’s arms and my wife… sobbing next to me.

Next to my body.

I was inside a freezer box.

I was dead.

I screamed. I cried. But no one heard me. My wife couldn’t hear me. She never would again.

I reached out to touch my child, to hold her one last time—but my hands passed through. I wasn’t even able to touch my own body. I had become nothing but air.

How could I tell my wife that I loved her? That I came home with a fresh mind, ready to hug her, to kiss her, to live with her without misunderstandings?

How could I tell my child that I wanted to be the best father in the world?

But it was too late.

I had lost my chance to make my life truly happy. I had lost everything. I would never get another moment to speak to my wife.

And yet, I was right next to her. That’s all she wanted. But she would never know.

I heard my office colleagues speaking to her. Through her sobs, she told them she had talked to me last night.

That meant… from this morning, I had been invisible.

That’s why the security guard didn’t greet me.

That’s why no one at work noticed me.

I had been dead all along.

What could I do now? Nothing.

In the end, it wasn’t fate. It wasn’t destiny.

It was my ego that killed me.

Kill your ego, or it will kill you.

My Dad Sold My Bottles

My Dad Sold My Bottles

My dreams, my desires, my behavior—everything about me was far beyond my age. I longed for a luxurious life, so I decided to prepare myself for it. My friends—better than good teachers, yet worse than enemies—showed me the path to the life I wished for.

One thing I learned: You should never blame anyone for your choices. You alone are responsible for searching for what you truly need.

When I was 15, my desires consumed me. I didn’t care about my family—who does at that age? Looking back now, I regret it. I was the perfect example of a worst-case scenario.

I had heard a lot about alcohol. Curiosity turned into desire—I just wanted to experience it. I shared my wish with my friends, my so-called "good teachers," and they had no hesitation in fulfilling it.

The plan was set. We found a hidden spot, far from my home and deep inside an isolated area.

"Party hard"—that was the phrase. And we did. It felt like an achievement.

At first, it was just for the experience. Now, there’s nothing left to explain.

One day, I missed our usual drinking session. My mother wasn’t feeling well, so she asked me to stay home. I agreed, reluctantly.

That evening, when my father came home, I quickly got up to give him his seat. He sat down, looked at my mother, and said happily, "I earned a little extra today by collecting empty bottles from deep inside the secluded area."

Yes, he had sold those bottles.

My heart pounded. I prayed it wasn’t the same place where my friends and I used to drink. But as he spoke, his words confirmed it.

I died inside.

I had thrown those bottles away carelessly, and my father had picked them up—to make money for his family.

That moment changed me forever.

My father was happy—he had earned something for us. But my soul was crushed. I felt like the biggest sinner.

That shame, that regret—it transformed my thoughts, my attitude, my life.

When someone works tirelessly for your well-being, don’t be the reason they suffer.

That day, I couldn’t even look my father in the eye.

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A Story for Those Who Hesitate to Help Their Parents.

Just a narration.

Fasting is not for my GOD !! It is all for my Pocket !!!

Health Is the Only Wealth for Middle-Class Families

For middle-class families, health is the only true wealth. We don’t have the luxury of fighting a big disease—we lack the strength, the resources, and the courage. My salary determines my next 29 days. It’s not my fault that I’m struggling financially, but yes, it’s my misfortune to be in this situation.

But why not? Why can’t I become great one day? And why can’t that day be today?

Everyone has the right to dream. Dreams have no limits. Dreams have no cost.

No cost—yet, somehow, they are expensive.

Who made them expensive? Who decided that my dream should be out of reach? Is it my fault that I dared to dream of a better life?

"Dreams have no cost, but remember—you are still dreaming until you make them a reality."

Fasting—Not for God, But for My Pocket!

I know that to achieve my dreams, I need discipline. But I never expected that discipline would mean going hungry just to save money.

When my friends asked why I wasn’t eating lunch, my God saved me.

"I’m fasting for God," I said.

What else could I say?

Yes, my God saved me! After all, God is always with middle-class families… right? Ha ha!

I’m ready to take risks. But no one offers me any risks.

I can’t even create my own risk—because, as I said, my salary decides my next 29 days.

So how do I turn my expensive dream into reality?

Do I have to redream—choose something smaller, something cheaper?

If so, does that mean I’m not truly committed to my dream?

They say, “Dream small. Achieve it first. Then dream big.”

Sounds logical, but what if I’m bad at managing time?

Who is responsible for the time I waste achieving a small dream when I could have been chasing the big one?

Is It My Lack of Education, or Just Bad Timing?

No, the real problem is this—by the time I dream, someone else has already implemented it, marketed it, and profited from it.

Yes, my dream expires before I can even chase it. And with each passing day, it only becomes more expensive.

So, as you said, it’s not just I, it’s WE.

We, the middle class, must dream small and achieve quickly.

And until then… I guess I’ll just have to keep fasting for my God! 😆

Here, ‘I’ is YOU.