Good Bye

THE LAST MESSAGE I SEND TO MY BUDDY

Salaams
I hope and wish you're in good health.
Finally you have even removed me from your friends list! :(
I know, i guess i do understand.


For all the hate you have towards me, even for a split second, I never have wished you anything but God's mercy and blessings. For you, your family and your friends, i have nothing but prayers and believe or not, I am not the same person I was, and now I wish you more happiness, joy and bliss, here and hereafter.

Finally I know its time to say 'Good Bye' to my old Buddy :(


But before that I want to
Thank you for your invaluable friendship
Thank you for all the time you have spend being a friend.
Thank you for all the efforts you have made to keep me happy while you were a friend.
Thank you for the messages you sent me and for the time you spend reading mine.
Thank you for listening to me while I had no one else to share with.
Thank you for sharing memories of your life at least for few years.
Thank you for all the good memories you have given me as a friend.
Thank you for all the advices you gave me friendly.
Thank you for allowing me to help you even in few matters.
Thank you for allowing me to be a better human being.
Thank you for talking to me at least for few hrs on the phone.
Thank you for forgiving me even when my actions were unforgivable.
Thank you for only shunning me when I deserved even worse.
You proved to be an important friend I had in my life.


And sorry for not understanding you, your feelings, even after knowing you better then many of your friends until it was too late.


Please do not forget that your determination is your strength, you can defeat/come-across anything that comes on your way if you use this strength of yours.


Thank you for everything you did to me.
Thank you, may God bless you, I wish you best of luck for your coming exams.


May Allah's blessing and Mercy be upon you.
Salaams

(you need not reply this)

Handling Disagreements.

ދެބަސްވުންތައް މަދުކުރާނީ ކިހިނެތް؟

ދެބަސްވުންތަކަށްވެސް މަރުޙަބާ ކިޔާށެވެ.

ހަނދާންކުރާށެވެ. ހުރިހާކަމެއްގައި ދެމީހުން އެއްޚިޔާލެއް ހުށަހަޅާނަމަ އޭގެތެރެއިން އެކެއްގެ ބޭނުމެއްނެތެވެ. ކަމެއްގައި ތިމާއަށް ކުރީން ވިސްނިފައިނެތް ކަމެއް ވިސްނައިދީފިނަމަ އެކަމަށްޓަކައި އޭނާޔާ ދެކޮޅުހެދުމުގެ ބަދަލުގައި ޝުކުރު އަދާކުރާށެވެ. ކަމަކާ ދެމީހުންގެމެދުގައި ދެބަސްވުމަކީ ބޮޑު ގޯހެއްހެދުމުގެކުރީން އެކަން އިޞްލާޙް ކުރުމަށް ލިބޭ ރަނުގެ ފުރުޞަތެއްގެ ގޮތުގައި ދެކޭށެވެ.

ރުޅިކޮންޓްރޯލް ކުރާށެވެ.

ތިމާ ހިތްހަމަނުޖެހޭ ކަމެއް ހަމަ ދިމާވާއިރަށް އެންމެ ފުރަތަމަވެސް ރުޅިއައިސް ހަޅޭއްލަވައިގަތުމަކީ، ބޭނުންކަމެއް ނޫނެވެ. އަބަދުވެސް ހަނދާން ކުރާށެވެ. މީހާގެ ޝަޚްޞިއްޔަތުގެ ކުޑަބޮޑުމިން ކަނޑައަޅަނީ އޭނާ ރުޅިއަންނަ ކަންތައްތަކުގެ ކުޑަބޮޑުމިނުންނެވެ.

ފުރަތަމަ އަޑުއަހާށެވެ.

ތަފާތު ޚިޔާލެއް ހުށަހެޅުމަށް އަނެކާއަށްވެސް ފުރުޞަތު ދޭށެވެ. ބުނަން އުޅޭވަހަކަ ނިންމާލުމުގެ ޖާގަ ދޭށެވެ. ދެކޮޅުހަދައި ވާހަކަ މެދުކަނޑާލުމުން ހައްތަހާ ހަމަނުޖެހުން އިތުރުވާނީއެވެ. ޚިޔާލުތަފާތުވުންތަކަށްވެސް ރައްޓެހި މާޙައުލެއް ހޯދައިދޭށެވެ. ފަހަރެއްގައިވެސް ދެކޮޅުވެރިކަމުގެ ފާރުތައް އުސްނުކުރާށެވެ.

އެއްބަސްވެވޭ ކަންތައްތަކާމެދު އަވަހަށް އެއްބަސްވާށެވެ.

ބޮޑެތި ކަންތައްތަކާ އެންމެން އެއްބަސްވުމަކީ ނުވެދާނެކަމެކެވެ. ފުރަތަމަ ދެފަރާތް އެއްބަސްވެވޭ ކަންތައްތަކާއިމެދު އެއްބަސްވާށެވެ. އަދި ޚިޔާލް ތަފާތު ކަންތައްތައް ހުރިކަމަށްވެސް އެއްބަސްވެ އެ ކަންތައްތަކާމެދު މަޝްވަރާކުރާށެވެ.

ދެބަސްވާކަންތައްތަކާމެދު ފަހުން ވިސްނާނެކަމުގެ އިތުބާރު ދޭށެވެ. އަދި އެކަންކަން ރަނގަޅަށް ދިރާސާ ކުރާށެވެ.

ފަހަރެއްގައި ދެވަނަމީހެއްގެ ޚިޔާލު ތިމާގެ ޚިޔާލަށްވުރެ ރަނގަޅުވުމަކީވެސް އެކަށީގެންވާކަމެކެވެ. ތިމާގެ ބަހަކީ ފަހުބަސް ކަމުގައި ހެދުމުގެ ބަދަލުގައި ދެފަރާތަށްވެސް ވިސްނާލުމަށް ވަގުތުބޭނުންވާނެއެވެ. ނޫންނަމަ ކަމެއްދަމެއް ގޯސްވުމުން "އަހަރެން ކުރީންވެސް ތިވާހަކަ ބުނީމެންނުހޭ. އޭރު އަޑު ނޭހީ ނޫންހޭ!" މިހެން ބުނުމުގެ ފުރުޞަތެއް ނޯންނާނެއެވެ.

އިނދިކޮޅު ޚިޔާލް ހުށަހަޅާމީހާއަށްވެސް ޝުކުރުއަދާކުރާށެވެ.

ކަމަކާއިމެދު މީހަކު ތިބާޔާ ޚިޔާލްތަފާތުވެ އެކަމުގެ ވާހަކަ ދައްކަނީ ތިބާޔެކޭ އެއްފަދައިން އެފަރާތަށްވެސް އެކަމެއް މުހިންމުވީމައެވެ. އެއީވެސް ކަންތައްތައް ފުރިހަމައަށް ކުރުމަށްލިބޭ ބާރެއްގެ ގޮތުގައި ދެކޭށެވެ. މިގޮތަށްހެދުމުން ދެކޮޅުވެރިކަން އިސާހިތަކު އެކުވެރިކަމަށް ބަދަލުވެދާނެއެވެ.

އެހާއަވަހަށް ފަހު ނިންމުން ނުނިންމާށެވެ.

އެންމެ ފުރަތަމަ ތިމާގެ ޚިޔާލަށް އަންނަގޮތަކީ ފަހު ނިންމުންކަމުގައި ނުހަދާށެވެ. ނިންމާ ނިންމުތަކުގައި އަނެކުންވެސް ޙިއްޞާވުމުގެ ފުރުޞަތު ދޭށެވެ. އޭރުން އެކަމެއް ކުރުމުގައި އަނެކުންގެ ފުރިހަމަ އެއްބާރުލުން ލިބޭނެއެވެ. އެހެންމީހަކު އަމިއްލަ އަމިއްލައަށް ނިންމާކަމެއް ތިމާކުރަންޖެހުމުން ހިތް ނުތަނަވަސް ވޭ ނޫންހެއްޔެވެ؟

Father Forgets

Father Forgets

Listen, son: I am saying this as you lie asleep, one little paw crumpled under your cheek and the blond curls stickily wet on your damp forehead. I have stolen into your room alone. Just a few minutes ago, as I sat reading my paper in the library, a stifling wave of remorse swept over me. Guiltily I came to your bedside.

There are the things I was thinking, son: I had been cross to you. I scolded you as you were dressing for school because you gave your face merely a dab with a towel. I took you to task for not cleaning your shoes. I called out angrily when you threw some of your things on the floor.

At breakfast I found fault, too. You spilled things. You gulped down your food. You put your elbows on the table. You spread butter too thick on your bread. And as you started off to play and I made for my train, you turned and waved a hand and called, 'Goodbye, Daddy!' and I frowned, and said in reply, 'Hold your shoulders back!'

Then it began all over again in the late afternoon. As I came up the road I spied you, down on your knees, playing marbles. There were holes in your stockings. I humiliated you before your boyfriends by marching you ahead of me to the house. Stockings were expensive - and if you had to buy them you would be more careful! Imagine that, son, from a father!

Do you remember, later, when I was reading in the library, how you came in timidly, with a sort of hurt look in your eyes? When I glanced up over my paper, impatient at the interruption, you hesitated at the door. 'What is it you want?' I snapped.You said nothing, but ran across in one tempestuous plunge, and threw your arms around my neck and kissed me, and your small arms tightened with an affection that God had set blooming in your heart and which even neglect could not wither. And then you were gone, pattering up the stairs.

Well, son, it was shortly afterwards that my paper slipped from my hands and a terrible sickening fear came over me. What has habit been doing to me? The habit of finding fault, of reprimanding - this was my reward to you for being a boy. It was not that I did not love you; it was that I expected too much of youth. I was measuring you by the yardstick of my own years.

And there was so much that was good and fine and true in your character. The little heart of you was as big as the dawn itself over the wide hills. This was shown by your spontaneous impulse to rush in and kiss me good night. Nothing else matters tonight, son. I have come to your bedside in the darkness, and I have knelt there, ashamed!

It is a feeble atonement; I know you would not understand these things if I told them to you during your waking hours. But tomorrow I will be a real daddy! I will chum with you, and suffer when you suffer, and laugh when you laugh. I will bite my tongue when impatient words come. I will keep saying as if it were a ritual: 'He is nothing but a boy - a little boy!'

I am afraid I have visualized you as a man. Yet as I see you now, son, crumpled and weary in your cot, I see that you are still a baby. Yesterday you were in your mother's arms, your head on her shoulder. I have asked too much, too much.

- W. Livingston Larned,

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Instead of condemning people, lets try to understand them. Lets try to understand why they do what they do. that's a lot more profitable and intriguing than criticism; and it breads sympathy, tolerance and kindness. "to know all is to forgive all"

"God himself does not propose to judge man until the end of his days. why should you and I?"