“Oh, I wish you could’ve been there when he ran.” Dan laughed at his recollection. “You could always tell where he was on the track. He had this long hair flowing behind him. Others with long hair would tie theirs behind in a ponytail or in a braid, but not him, he just let it flow and flow it did. Thick black shoulder length hair flowed behind him majestically as he ran around the track. I wish you had been there.”

“You know the best part of dying?”

“There is a best part?” asked John looking at his friend as he shook his head. “I didn’t know there was a best part.”

“You never have to clip your fingernails ever again!”

“And that’s the best part? You’re sick. I’d rather cut my toe and fingernails than die.”

“I know. I’m just kidding but how about no more haircuts?”

“You know, you’re right. That would be a good reason to look forward to my demise.” John laughed. “Have you ever thought of what you want on your epitaph?”

“And the heavens opened, and all the Gods fell to Earth.”

Much commotion.

“Wait a minute, where are you going?”

“Down to Earth. Didn’t I just hear you say that the heavens opened and the Gods fell to earth?”

“I did yes. But you’re not a God, at least not a God yet.”

Ramos looked down at the ground. “That’s just not fair. I’ve been waiting five hundred thousand years to become a God and I still can’t be one.”

“Well,” replied Jack, “looking sadly at the young boy who seemed so lost. “Well, it’s up to you. In order to be a God, you have to be a God of something. And you still haven’t decided what you’re going to do when you grow up.”

Richard was horrified. His wife of 35 years Amy was horrified. Even their trusted Black Labrador, Smoky, who normally was content laying by the front door looking at the birds digging for worms was horrified.

“Hi Mom and Dad, this is Evelyn.”

Over the course of the two weeks I stayed with him, I watched him begin to eat more and to begin to enjoy life more. He was like a child waiting to open a Christmas present when I bought some beer. He always had a drink in the evening around 6pm followed by dinner at 7.

“Is it 6?” He asked the first day I bought the beer.

“No, dad, it isn’t.”

He thought for a second, “what time is it?”

At the urging of my sister, I left my home in Pennsylvania at the end of January 2019 and travelled to my father’s home in a small village which lay in the foothills of the Himalayas. Burdened with the daily stresses of Western life, I had last visited him in May 2014, nearly 5 years ago.

“I see you’re left-handed.” Ralph looked at Craig a little confused. Craig continued, “you, you, put your car keys in your left pocket.” He hesitated for a second. “I notice these things especially because I’m left-handed as well,” and without saying another word, he reached into his left pocket and pulled out his keys, “see,” he proudly waved the keys in front of Ralph, who happened to be standing in a small crowd in the foyer of their office building busily discussing their relevant team scores from the weekend.

Arthur was never quite sure what his goals were in life. They seemed to be a moving target. When he was very young, the daily commuter train which rattled at high speed behind his home held his interest, until he heard the whistle sound one day and put an immediate end to that goal.

“Why is it called Wacky Wednesday mom?”

Esther had just finished reading her little daughter Emma, the Dr Suess book of the same name. She was about to tuck little Emma into bed, give her a kiss on her forehead, as she did every night and then join her husband in the living room, where he was busily updating himself with the news. That was something Esther didn’t like to see him do when he came home from work every evening, because it never failed to change his mood.

As he had done every morning since arriving at his parent’s home the previous Sunday, Jason awoke well before the sun had decided to rise in that part of the world and got dressed. He walked out of the back of the house and began to climb a hill, and didn’t stop until he had reached the summit, where he spread out a sheet he had brought with him, and sat down facing East.

Kumar wasn’t sure of what to expect. He had never been to a bris in his life, let alone heard of one. When he returned to his apartment after dinner, a very long dinner at that, with Steven at Mykonos that Tuesday evening, he threw all the stuff he carried in his pockets on to his desk, changed his clothes and then pulled out his phone to get onto the internet.

“It’s like everything else in life,” thought Tom as he lowered his car window and called over to a man standing by the roadside. “It’s like everything else,” he continued talking to himself, “what you dream of being in life and what actually happens are generally two different things.”

“And now for something completely different,” John read the sign over the doorway a few times before entering the store. He had never been to Markham before, but had heard that the town of 5,000 inhabitants boasted having the most fish and chip shops per capita of any town in the country. And that this one, the one with a very strange name, was simply the best. John had arrived in town, which was located on the South Western shore of England, not too far from Land’s End, the night before on a business trip.

“Am I reading that sign properly?” Steven asked the question of anyone and everyone who stopped to wonder why he was standing outside the large windows of the grocery store and not going inside. Needless to say, most thought him to be not quite there and kept their distance from him. But Steven was undeterred. He kept standing there, reading the large sign in the window over and over again. There were many advertisements displayed trying to lure prospective shoppers into their halls with the numerous sales. But those didn’t interest Steven.

It was a Tuesday night when Stanley met Kumar at ‘Mykonos,’ a Greek restaurant in midtown Manhattan. It was practically empty with the exception of the wait staff who were pleased to see Stanley, which made Kumar believe he was well known there, and he was. They were shown to a table in the back of the restaurant close to the kitchen and far enough away for any other patrons not to hear their conversation. After they had sat down, had been served a glass of wine and engaged in small talk for a couple of minutes, Stanley began.

Derek loved trains as a child. In fact, he had loved trains all of his life. As far back as he could remember he enjoyed watching trains, building toy trains, and playing with a train set when he was all of two years old, even though he didn’t understand what it was. He just enjoyed watching them go around and around on the tracks in his room.

Dawn hadn’t broken yet. The world outside Ethan’s window was still very dark. He lay in bed wondering if he had a moment to reflect on the day before and how he could improve upon his life.

Each day Ethan got up at approximately the same time and each morning he decided that wouldn’t do. His life was flying past at full speed, and he knew it. Ethan just wished he could get it to slow down.

There’s an old saying which goes, “if you don’t have your health, you have nothing!” And that is very true. One can have all the money in the world and all the status they could’ve wished for, but unless they’re in good shape physically and mentally then they really have nothing.

When Alice was told of this saying once, she really took it to heart. In fact, she went to the extreme.

True to his word, about a month after Kumar had dinner with the extended Rosenbaum family at their country club in Northern New Jersey, his mobile phone rang. Kumar was deeply engrossed in a book he had picked up from the college library, and so the sound of the ring made him jump. His initial reaction was to curse himself for not turning off the ringer as he normally did. But after picking up the phone and recognising the number, he was somewhat glad he hadn’t. Maybe the universe was telling him something.

There are more than 10,000 famer suicides reported in India every year. 2020 was the worst year on record. In the Punjab, 3 to 4 farmer suicides were reported in the local news every day. When the farmer commits suicide, the government compensates the family, however, if the woman commits suicide, there is no compensation. A woman cannot be considered a farmer. Source: Businessinsider.com.