I saw a man couple of days ago who was standing under the pouring rain with his arms open to both sides and his face turned up towards the sky welcoming all the drops soaking his body. Others laughed at him and some called him crazy while passing hastily under their flimsy black umbrellas feeling protected and secure.
The next day I have seen at least 10 of those umbrellas thrown on the side walk, all broken.
We know there is no script to life for happiness and real love is born, and can only grow and live when there are no boundaries, yet we go back to playing our pre-designed roles in our lives scripted by us or for us. Why?
ZM
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