Kingdom Of Heaven
The next morning had been very busy. Rosh’s CFD portfolios had been
liquidated by his CFD provider. The phone never stopped ringing all
morning. More margin calls on their Share Portfolios. The world markets
had taken another steep dive last night.
The castle that had taken 15 years to build was falling down around them like a house of cards. Debt taken for these investments was turning into a Frankenstein monster.
She answered the emails as best she could, and phoned the banks. With his usual foresight, he had given her Enduring Power of Attorney over his accounts, so things went as smoothly as they could under the circumstances. Then she returned to the hospital with the kids to check up on Rosh again.
He was still sleeping. The doctor took Isha aside and discussed his case. “There will be trauma. And Depression. You will need to be patient with him. He will need all the love and care he can get. Try and keep him busy, anything to occupy his time, body and mind, but nothing too strenuous or exciting. The chances of a relapse or repeat incident are high. He lives, but barely,” the doctor advised before leaving.
She looked at Rosh as she sat beside him silently for a very long time.
“What will he do now Ma?” Josh asked.
“He’ll think of something,” she asserted, not feeling the same confidence that reflected in her reply to her son. She knew that further adverse financial developments of this morning will almost certainly rule out their return to a normal life. Hosh sensed it and she knew that he knew.
“Let him do his social project Ma. His focus will consume him and in so doing, he will be strong again.” Hosh suggested, answering the mental questions that tormented her.
Rosh had always yearned to do something meaningful in his life, even when he was extremely busy running their three businesses.
He had been prepared to walk away from his profession - to pursue spiritual fulfilment rather than just chase after endless acquisition of money. But money had been necessary. It always has been, it always will be.
‘Maybe it’s time,’ she thought, ‘maybe that’s the way. There will be no money, but he will be happier and have a sense of fulfilment. Isn’t that the goal of life anyway? He will achieve Jesus’ Kingdom of Heaven.’
Rosh had found it already but had walked away because he believed he could not serve the community till he was financially strong and had completed his commitments to his family. And now there was no money and the financial security of their family was hopelessly jeopardised.
He hadn’t been ready to pay the price then, but the price had been paid for him to begin his journey. He could have his field, if she allowed it. She noticed suddenly that he was awake and had been gazing at her silently.
“Come back to me quickly. You can have your Kingdom of Heaven,” she impulsively spoke her thoughts aloud to him. He winced and thought a little. Then answered with great sadness, “But I can’t go on that journey anymore. I have nothing left to pay the fare.”
Later that day, Josh asked his brother again what the brief conversation between their parents had meant. Thoughtfully, Hosh answered, “It is another parable told by Jesus, I think. That of the Hidden Treasure. It is in the New Testament, Matthew 13:44. Jesus is reported to have said that the Kingdom of Heaven was like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then he happily sold all that he had to buy that field."
When Josh stared back at him blankly, Hosh explained, “We can ask mother tonight what they meant. But I can try and guess. Pa has always had a kind of dream that he do something meaningful with his life to serve humanity. Ma has always felt that he serves the community and country through what he does already."
"But Pa wanted to do something bigger, something that had no profit motive. This is what Ma offered him today if he gets well soon. A goal for him, which he thinks would be worth fighting for.”
“Doesn’t she think, we are worth fighting for?” interrupted Josh.
“We sure are. But who can say what they are going through or thinking in their current disturbed state of mind? They are fighting. For life. For things that are worth fighting for. Give them time. And love. And understanding.”
“But I already do.” Josh answered as he walked away angrily.
The castle that had taken 15 years to build was falling down around them like a house of cards. Debt taken for these investments was turning into a Frankenstein monster.
She answered the emails as best she could, and phoned the banks. With his usual foresight, he had given her Enduring Power of Attorney over his accounts, so things went as smoothly as they could under the circumstances. Then she returned to the hospital with the kids to check up on Rosh again.
He was still sleeping. The doctor took Isha aside and discussed his case. “There will be trauma. And Depression. You will need to be patient with him. He will need all the love and care he can get. Try and keep him busy, anything to occupy his time, body and mind, but nothing too strenuous or exciting. The chances of a relapse or repeat incident are high. He lives, but barely,” the doctor advised before leaving.
She looked at Rosh as she sat beside him silently for a very long time.
“What will he do now Ma?” Josh asked.
“He’ll think of something,” she asserted, not feeling the same confidence that reflected in her reply to her son. She knew that further adverse financial developments of this morning will almost certainly rule out their return to a normal life. Hosh sensed it and she knew that he knew.
“Let him do his social project Ma. His focus will consume him and in so doing, he will be strong again.” Hosh suggested, answering the mental questions that tormented her.
Rosh had always yearned to do something meaningful in his life, even when he was extremely busy running their three businesses.
He had been prepared to walk away from his profession - to pursue spiritual fulfilment rather than just chase after endless acquisition of money. But money had been necessary. It always has been, it always will be.
‘Maybe it’s time,’ she thought, ‘maybe that’s the way. There will be no money, but he will be happier and have a sense of fulfilment. Isn’t that the goal of life anyway? He will achieve Jesus’ Kingdom of Heaven.’
Rosh had found it already but had walked away because he believed he could not serve the community till he was financially strong and had completed his commitments to his family. And now there was no money and the financial security of their family was hopelessly jeopardised.
He hadn’t been ready to pay the price then, but the price had been paid for him to begin his journey. He could have his field, if she allowed it. She noticed suddenly that he was awake and had been gazing at her silently.
“Come back to me quickly. You can have your Kingdom of Heaven,” she impulsively spoke her thoughts aloud to him. He winced and thought a little. Then answered with great sadness, “But I can’t go on that journey anymore. I have nothing left to pay the fare.”
Later that day, Josh asked his brother again what the brief conversation between their parents had meant. Thoughtfully, Hosh answered, “It is another parable told by Jesus, I think. That of the Hidden Treasure. It is in the New Testament, Matthew 13:44. Jesus is reported to have said that the Kingdom of Heaven was like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then he happily sold all that he had to buy that field."
When Josh stared back at him blankly, Hosh explained, “We can ask mother tonight what they meant. But I can try and guess. Pa has always had a kind of dream that he do something meaningful with his life to serve humanity. Ma has always felt that he serves the community and country through what he does already."
"But Pa wanted to do something bigger, something that had no profit motive. This is what Ma offered him today if he gets well soon. A goal for him, which he thinks would be worth fighting for.”
“Doesn’t she think, we are worth fighting for?” interrupted Josh.
“We sure are. But who can say what they are going through or thinking in their current disturbed state of mind? They are fighting. For life. For things that are worth fighting for. Give them time. And love. And understanding.”
“But I already do.” Josh answered as he walked away angrily.
The Burden
Most burdens we carry, like anger, are burdens of the mind.
Story of two Buddhist monks.
The elder carried a helpless girl to safety and left her there, but …
“Spit your anger now,” Qosh said to his son lovingly, “and eat some food. If you won’t eat, I won’t eat too.”
Rosh looked at his father and pouted, “You got angry, when it wasn’t even my fault.”
“Sorry son, if it wasn’t your fault,” Qosh answered sincerely. “Please forgive me for that."
"Elders can make mistakes too sometimes, you know. But you shouldn’t be angry for this long.”
“If elders can get angry for the wrong reasons, why can’t I, when I am truly wronged?” Rosh questioned.
Qosh lifted his son in his arms and brought him down from the hot dark room in which he had isolated himself for hours.
As Dev served them both dinner, Qosh continued, “Yes, I get angry. And you have a right to be angry too. It is only human to feel anger."
"But my anger is momentary. It comes. And then it goes, as quickly as it came. Yours though, lingers too long. That is no good. Not for you, not for others.”
“When I was a child, I heard a story of two Buddhist monks who were travelling through a flood ravaged plain. Buddhist monks have to lead a life of strict vows, one of which is of celibacy. In this order, they were not even allowed to touch a woman.”
“When these two monks crossing the flooded plain came around a bend, they saw a lovely young girl stuck on the roof of a hut. Waters were still rising, as heavy rain poured around them. The girl was terrified by the increasing danger, yet afraid to enter the flood waters around her.”
"Here girl," said the elder monk. “Hop on my back. I’ll take you across.”
The younger monk was startled, but kept quiet.
‘He teaches me restraint, ‘he thought, ‘yet he couldn't restrain himself, when the first opportunity came along. One set of rules for himself, another set of rules for others. What a hypocrite!’
The elder lifted her on his back and started to walk away. As he followed them silently, he couldn’t help thinking, ‘He could have asked me to carry her. I am younger and stronger. Why didn’t he? Did he want to touch her so much?’
He also couldn’t help notice the girl’s beauty. The more he looked and thought, the more he felt torn between guilt and derision, ‘He’s only trying to help her. He’s only trying to lead by example. Oh, why do I feel like that? Why do I mistrust my mentor so?’
Quietly, the monks waded through the flooded plain. The younger monk simmered in his thoughts and questions. Rage vanquished rationale. He did not speak as they traveled, but noted with dismay, the elder’s vitality.
He seemed to be in high spirits soaking up the sunshine, relishing the chatter of birds.
It was wet and cold everywhere, but anger smoked up inside the young monk. Rising slowly, like magma rises from deep within the womb of the earth.
‘Is this Dhamma?’ he brooded. ‘No wonder we are told to stay away from women. Look what she does to him with her touch. And what she does to me, without.’
When they finally reached high ground and safety, the elder put the girl down. The young monk was livid by the time they reached the monastery, but held his tongue. The elder went about his work cheerfully, but the younger couldn’t focus at all.
What remained of the day finished quickly, doing the chores the floods had created. Night fell and the monks retired. The elder monk snored peacefully. The younger, who lay awake beside him, tossed and turned.
Time crawled forward at a snail's pace, watching the tormented monk, reluctant to leave him be and move on. Past midnight, the younger monk was unable to restrain himself any longer.
He jostled up the elder and demanded, “Explain yourself!”
“What?” the elder was startled out of his slumber. “Explain what?”
“The woman!” the younger accused, breathing hard.
“What woman?” the elder inquired groggily, still half asleep.
"Don’t you even remember?” the younger snapped. "That lovely young woman you carried on your back. We are not allowed to touch women, let alone carry them around. Why did you carry her?"
“Oh her!” answered the elder tiredly. “I left her back there. Why are you still carrying her?”
When young Rosh looked at his father uncomprehendingly, Qosh explained, “The elder had only carried the scared, stranded girl to safety, but the younger monk had brought her here to the monastery."
"Not physically, but she was still there with him. Most burdens we carry son, are burdens of the mind.”
“When I anger, it happens, then it's over. It cannot be changed, but it happened for a reason. I do it, but then I move on. Like the elder."
"But you remember all your hurts. When you do that, you still carry them with you. You keep them alive. You need to put them down, and move on. Dwelling on the hurt keeps it alive, deepens it.”
“Forgetfulness heals. Even when we can’t forgive, we must let things go. For not until we let them go, can we begin on our journey away from them. Hurts that are forgotten, are wounds that have healed. Let them heal.”
Story of two Buddhist monks.
The elder carried a helpless girl to safety and left her there, but …
“Spit your anger now,” Qosh said to his son lovingly, “and eat some food. If you won’t eat, I won’t eat too.”
Rosh looked at his father and pouted, “You got angry, when it wasn’t even my fault.”
“Sorry son, if it wasn’t your fault,” Qosh answered sincerely. “Please forgive me for that."
"Elders can make mistakes too sometimes, you know. But you shouldn’t be angry for this long.”
“If elders can get angry for the wrong reasons, why can’t I, when I am truly wronged?” Rosh questioned.
Qosh lifted his son in his arms and brought him down from the hot dark room in which he had isolated himself for hours.
As Dev served them both dinner, Qosh continued, “Yes, I get angry. And you have a right to be angry too. It is only human to feel anger."
"But my anger is momentary. It comes. And then it goes, as quickly as it came. Yours though, lingers too long. That is no good. Not for you, not for others.”
“When I was a child, I heard a story of two Buddhist monks who were travelling through a flood ravaged plain. Buddhist monks have to lead a life of strict vows, one of which is of celibacy. In this order, they were not even allowed to touch a woman.”
“When these two monks crossing the flooded plain came around a bend, they saw a lovely young girl stuck on the roof of a hut. Waters were still rising, as heavy rain poured around them. The girl was terrified by the increasing danger, yet afraid to enter the flood waters around her.”
"Here girl," said the elder monk. “Hop on my back. I’ll take you across.”
The younger monk was startled, but kept quiet.
‘He teaches me restraint, ‘he thought, ‘yet he couldn't restrain himself, when the first opportunity came along. One set of rules for himself, another set of rules for others. What a hypocrite!’
The elder lifted her on his back and started to walk away. As he followed them silently, he couldn’t help thinking, ‘He could have asked me to carry her. I am younger and stronger. Why didn’t he? Did he want to touch her so much?’
He also couldn’t help notice the girl’s beauty. The more he looked and thought, the more he felt torn between guilt and derision, ‘He’s only trying to help her. He’s only trying to lead by example. Oh, why do I feel like that? Why do I mistrust my mentor so?’
Quietly, the monks waded through the flooded plain. The younger monk simmered in his thoughts and questions. Rage vanquished rationale. He did not speak as they traveled, but noted with dismay, the elder’s vitality.
He seemed to be in high spirits soaking up the sunshine, relishing the chatter of birds.
It was wet and cold everywhere, but anger smoked up inside the young monk. Rising slowly, like magma rises from deep within the womb of the earth.
‘Is this Dhamma?’ he brooded. ‘No wonder we are told to stay away from women. Look what she does to him with her touch. And what she does to me, without.’
When they finally reached high ground and safety, the elder put the girl down. The young monk was livid by the time they reached the monastery, but held his tongue. The elder went about his work cheerfully, but the younger couldn’t focus at all.
What remained of the day finished quickly, doing the chores the floods had created. Night fell and the monks retired. The elder monk snored peacefully. The younger, who lay awake beside him, tossed and turned.
Time crawled forward at a snail's pace, watching the tormented monk, reluctant to leave him be and move on. Past midnight, the younger monk was unable to restrain himself any longer.
He jostled up the elder and demanded, “Explain yourself!”
“What?” the elder was startled out of his slumber. “Explain what?”
“The woman!” the younger accused, breathing hard.
“What woman?” the elder inquired groggily, still half asleep.
"Don’t you even remember?” the younger snapped. "That lovely young woman you carried on your back. We are not allowed to touch women, let alone carry them around. Why did you carry her?"
“Oh her!” answered the elder tiredly. “I left her back there. Why are you still carrying her?”
When young Rosh looked at his father uncomprehendingly, Qosh explained, “The elder had only carried the scared, stranded girl to safety, but the younger monk had brought her here to the monastery."
"Not physically, but she was still there with him. Most burdens we carry son, are burdens of the mind.”
“When I anger, it happens, then it's over. It cannot be changed, but it happened for a reason. I do it, but then I move on. Like the elder."
"But you remember all your hurts. When you do that, you still carry them with you. You keep them alive. You need to put them down, and move on. Dwelling on the hurt keeps it alive, deepens it.”
“Forgetfulness heals. Even when we can’t forgive, we must let things go. For not until we let them go, can we begin on our journey away from them. Hurts that are forgotten, are wounds that have healed. Let them heal.”
The Four Candles
The story of The Four Candles.
Darkness breeds fear. But so long as there is Hope ...
... Peace, Faith and Love can be rekindled again in Life.
Hosh came and sat beside his father when the other two had left the room.
He took his weak hands in his own, and willed his comforting warmth and understanding to flow through.
“I read the story of The Four Candles recently," he began to speak softly. "Four candles burned slowly in a room. Their ambiance so soft, you could hear them speak.”
"The first candle was Peace."
“Nobody wants me these days,” its flame whispered sadly. “The world is full of anger and fighting.”
"It diminished slowly and went out completely."
"The second candle was Faith."
“I am no longer needed," it lamented. “Trust is dead, belief has gone from this world.”
"Unneeded, unheeded, its flame slowly weakened too. It coughed finally and died."
"The third candle was Love."
'I feel powerless too,' it thought sadly. 'People don't care about me, don't understand me anymore. They even forget to love those who are nearest to them.'
"Suffocated by emotion, it sputtered out completely."
"A child entered the room and saw that three out of four candles were no longer burning. Shadows that were creeping up on the walls, leapt at him now."
"Suddenly afraid of the growing darkness, the kid began to cry."
"Why are you not burning?” he implored the dead candles. “You were supposed to guide me until the end."
"The flame of the fourth candle flickered up as it heard this."
“Do not be afraid,” it said gently. “For I am Hope, and while I still burn, we can rekindle the others."
“Through tear-filled eyes, the kid peered at the last burning candle. Scared to put it out when he moved it, he stood rooted at his spot."
“Come here child,” Hope beckoned again compassionately. "Be strong. Look, I'm still alive and well."
"Gingerly, the child picked it up and re-lit the other candles. Life brightened up again, dispelling darkness from the furthest corners of the room."
"Joy returned to his heart, and he was strong and content once again."
A solitary tear broke out of the corner of his father's eye.
"Keep Hope alive," he nudged him gently. "So long as there is Hope, all of us can live again with Peace, Faith and Love. Recover from the darkness, recoup our lives."
“Yeah,” Rosh sighed. “Never let the flame of Hope go out, no matter how bad things turn out to be. With hope firmly in your grasp, Peace, Faith and Love can be rekindled again and again.”
He hugged his son, and lay back. He felt tired. Very tired.
"Go now," he said, "and rest. You've had a long day. You must be tired."
Hosh kissed his father's hand, got up and walked quietly out of his room.
‘You are my light,’ Rosh prayed silently. ‘You are my hope. Stay always in my heart. Forgive all my wrongs and guide me, so I can do what you want me to do for you now.’
Darkness breeds fear. But so long as there is Hope ...
... Peace, Faith and Love can be rekindled again in Life.
Hosh came and sat beside his father when the other two had left the room.
“I read the story of The Four Candles recently," he began to speak softly. "Four candles burned slowly in a room. Their ambiance so soft, you could hear them speak.”
"The first candle was Peace."
“Nobody wants me these days,” its flame whispered sadly. “The world is full of anger and fighting.”
"It diminished slowly and went out completely."
"The second candle was Faith."
“I am no longer needed," it lamented. “Trust is dead, belief has gone from this world.”
"Unneeded, unheeded, its flame slowly weakened too. It coughed finally and died."
"The third candle was Love."
'I feel powerless too,' it thought sadly. 'People don't care about me, don't understand me anymore. They even forget to love those who are nearest to them.'
"Suffocated by emotion, it sputtered out completely."
"A child entered the room and saw that three out of four candles were no longer burning. Shadows that were creeping up on the walls, leapt at him now."
"Suddenly afraid of the growing darkness, the kid began to cry."
"Why are you not burning?” he implored the dead candles. “You were supposed to guide me until the end."
"The flame of the fourth candle flickered up as it heard this."
“Do not be afraid,” it said gently. “For I am Hope, and while I still burn, we can rekindle the others."
“Through tear-filled eyes, the kid peered at the last burning candle. Scared to put it out when he moved it, he stood rooted at his spot."
“Come here child,” Hope beckoned again compassionately. "Be strong. Look, I'm still alive and well."
"Gingerly, the child picked it up and re-lit the other candles. Life brightened up again, dispelling darkness from the furthest corners of the room."
"Joy returned to his heart, and he was strong and content once again."
A solitary tear broke out of the corner of his father's eye.
"Keep Hope alive," he nudged him gently. "So long as there is Hope, all of us can live again with Peace, Faith and Love. Recover from the darkness, recoup our lives."
“Yeah,” Rosh sighed. “Never let the flame of Hope go out, no matter how bad things turn out to be. With hope firmly in your grasp, Peace, Faith and Love can be rekindled again and again.”
He hugged his son, and lay back. He felt tired. Very tired.
"Go now," he said, "and rest. You've had a long day. You must be tired."
Hosh kissed his father's hand, got up and walked quietly out of his room.
‘You are my light,’ Rosh prayed silently. ‘You are my hope. Stay always in my heart. Forgive all my wrongs and guide me, so I can do what you want me to do for you now.’
Troubleshooting Wife 1.0
What's so funny?" Rosh growled.
Isha had been giggling away at her laptop for some time now and he found it irksome. He had been trying to concentrate to finish his report on his laptop.
"It's an old online joke," she giggled again and read it aloud to him:
Dear Tech Support,
Subject: System Upgrade. Wife 1.0 Just Released
Last year I upgraded from Girlfriend 7.0 to Wife 1.0 and noticed that the new program began unexpected child processing that took up a lot of new space and valuable resources. No mention of this phenomenon was included in the product brochure.
In addition, Wife 1.0 installs itself into all other programs and launches during system initialization, where it monitors all other system activity.
Applications such as Poker Night 10.3, Drunken Boys Night 2.5 and Saturday Football 5.0 no longer run, crashing the system whenever selected.
I cannot seem to keep wife 1.0 in the background while attempting to run some of my other favorite applications. I am thinking about going back to Girlfriend 7.0, but the uninstall does not work on this program. Can you help me please!
Thanks,
A Troubled User
"Marriage is a laddu you regret, if you eat," Rosh smiled, "and regret, if you don't eat. This guy's in trouble."
"Tech Support thinks so too," Isha smiled. "Here is their response:"
Dear Troubled User,
This is a very common problem men complain about, but it is mostly due to a primary misconception. Many people upgrade from Girlfriend 7.0 to Wife 1.0 with the idea that Wife 1.0 is merely a UTILITIES & ENTERTAINMENT program.
Wife 1.0 is an OPERATING SYSTEM and designed by its creator to run everything. It is unlikely you would be able to purge Wife 1.0 and still convert back to Girlfriend 7.0. Hidden operating files within your system would cause Girlfriend 7.0 to emulate Wife 1.0 so nothing is gained.
It is impossible to uninstall, delete, or purge the program files from the system once installed. You cannot go back to Girlfriend 7.0 because Wife 1.0 is not designed to do this.
Some have tried to install Girlfriend 8.0 or Wife 2.0 but end up with more problems than the original install.
Having installed Wife 1.0 myself, I might also suggest you read the entire section regarding General Partnership Faults (GPFs). It clearly states that in using this program, you must assume all responsibility for faults and problems that might occur, regardless of their cause.
I can only suggest installing background application program C:\YES DEAR now to alleviate software augmentation.
Another useful course of action may be to enter the command C:\APOLOGIZE.
In any case avoid excessive use of C:\YES DEAR because ultimately you may have to give the APOLOGIZE command anyway before the operating system will return to normal. The system will run smoothly as long as you take the blame for all the GPFs.
Wife 1.0 is a great program, but can be very high-maintenance. Consider buying additional software to improve the performance of Wife 1.0. I recommend Flowers 3.1 and Diamonds 2K.
Do not, under any circumstances install Secretary with Mini Skirt 3.3. This is not a supported application for Wife 1.0 and is likely to cause irreversible damage to the operating system. Look in your manual under 'Warnings- Alimony/Child support'.
I recommend you keep Wife 1.0 and deal with the situation.
Best of Luck,
Tech Support
Isha had been giggling away at her laptop for some time now and he found it irksome. He had been trying to concentrate to finish his report on his laptop.
"It's an old online joke," she giggled again and read it aloud to him:
Dear Tech Support,
Subject: System Upgrade. Wife 1.0 Just Released
Last year I upgraded from Girlfriend 7.0 to Wife 1.0 and noticed that the new program began unexpected child processing that took up a lot of new space and valuable resources. No mention of this phenomenon was included in the product brochure.
In addition, Wife 1.0 installs itself into all other programs and launches during system initialization, where it monitors all other system activity.
Applications such as Poker Night 10.3, Drunken Boys Night 2.5 and Saturday Football 5.0 no longer run, crashing the system whenever selected.
I cannot seem to keep wife 1.0 in the background while attempting to run some of my other favorite applications. I am thinking about going back to Girlfriend 7.0, but the uninstall does not work on this program. Can you help me please!
Thanks,
A Troubled User
"Marriage is a laddu you regret, if you eat," Rosh smiled, "and regret, if you don't eat. This guy's in trouble."
"Tech Support thinks so too," Isha smiled. "Here is their response:"
Dear Troubled User,
This is a very common problem men complain about, but it is mostly due to a primary misconception. Many people upgrade from Girlfriend 7.0 to Wife 1.0 with the idea that Wife 1.0 is merely a UTILITIES & ENTERTAINMENT program.
Wife 1.0 is an OPERATING SYSTEM and designed by its creator to run everything. It is unlikely you would be able to purge Wife 1.0 and still convert back to Girlfriend 7.0. Hidden operating files within your system would cause Girlfriend 7.0 to emulate Wife 1.0 so nothing is gained.
It is impossible to uninstall, delete, or purge the program files from the system once installed. You cannot go back to Girlfriend 7.0 because Wife 1.0 is not designed to do this.
Some have tried to install Girlfriend 8.0 or Wife 2.0 but end up with more problems than the original install.
Having installed Wife 1.0 myself, I might also suggest you read the entire section regarding General Partnership Faults (GPFs). It clearly states that in using this program, you must assume all responsibility for faults and problems that might occur, regardless of their cause.
I can only suggest installing background application program C:\YES DEAR now to alleviate software augmentation.
Another useful course of action may be to enter the command C:\APOLOGIZE.
In any case avoid excessive use of C:\YES DEAR because ultimately you may have to give the APOLOGIZE command anyway before the operating system will return to normal. The system will run smoothly as long as you take the blame for all the GPFs.
Wife 1.0 is a great program, but can be very high-maintenance. Consider buying additional software to improve the performance of Wife 1.0. I recommend Flowers 3.1 and Diamonds 2K.
Do not, under any circumstances install Secretary with Mini Skirt 3.3. This is not a supported application for Wife 1.0 and is likely to cause irreversible damage to the operating system. Look in your manual under 'Warnings- Alimony/Child support'.
I recommend you keep Wife 1.0 and deal with the situation.
Best of Luck,
Tech Support
Missing God
Jignesh had lost his new cellphone in the kindergarten and was quite upset.
The teacher was upset too that his parents had given him such valuable gear at such a young age.
The boy was beside himself with grief and at his wit's end.
When asked, the only intelligible thing he could reveal was that Josh had seemed very interested in it.
The teacher decided to call in Josh to try and tease out if he had stolen it.
Given Josh's other mischief making, it was also probably time to educate him that God sees us even when no one else is watching.
Josh was summoned into the teacher's office. She glared at him from across a huge, impressive desk which she sat behind. For a few moments there was pin drop silence in the room.
Josh didn't like coming into this office, and all this silent staring was making him very queasy. He stood twiddling his fingers behind his back, and lifted his shoe to rub it behind his other leg, just to ease his unease.
"Have you taken Jignesh's phone?" she finally asked.
The boy shook his head. He had seen Jignesh sobbing his heart out.
"Have you seen it?" she asked again, her tone sterner.
The boy shook his head again.
"Are you sure?" she warned, staring at him.
He nodded quietly, and lowered his gaze. Sensing his fear, she decided it was time for him to know there were no secrets from God.
She pointed her forefinger at him and hissed, "Where is God?"
Josh stared under the desk, in the corners of the room, all around the office, but said nothing. She felt irritated that he was avoiding eye contact.
Again, louder, she pointed at the boy and wooshed, "Where is God?"
Again, the boy looked all around but said nothing. 'He's just not paying attention, is he?' she thought.
She leaned far across the desk to put her forefinger right under the boy's nose and bellowed, "Where is God?"
Josh screamed and bolted from the room. He ran all the way to home. Finding his older brother home, he dragged him upstairs to his room and into the closet, where they usually shared secrets.
"I am in BIIIIG trouble," he wailed.
"What do you mean, BIG trouble?" Hosh asked.
His brother replied, "God is missing and they think I did it!"
The teacher was upset too that his parents had given him such valuable gear at such a young age.
The boy was beside himself with grief and at his wit's end.
When asked, the only intelligible thing he could reveal was that Josh had seemed very interested in it.The teacher decided to call in Josh to try and tease out if he had stolen it.
Given Josh's other mischief making, it was also probably time to educate him that God sees us even when no one else is watching.
Josh was summoned into the teacher's office. She glared at him from across a huge, impressive desk which she sat behind. For a few moments there was pin drop silence in the room.
Josh didn't like coming into this office, and all this silent staring was making him very queasy. He stood twiddling his fingers behind his back, and lifted his shoe to rub it behind his other leg, just to ease his unease.
"Have you taken Jignesh's phone?" she finally asked.
The boy shook his head. He had seen Jignesh sobbing his heart out.
"Have you seen it?" she asked again, her tone sterner.
The boy shook his head again.
"Are you sure?" she warned, staring at him.
He nodded quietly, and lowered his gaze. Sensing his fear, she decided it was time for him to know there were no secrets from God.
She pointed her forefinger at him and hissed, "Where is God?"
Josh stared under the desk, in the corners of the room, all around the office, but said nothing. She felt irritated that he was avoiding eye contact.
Again, louder, she pointed at the boy and wooshed, "Where is God?"
Again, the boy looked all around but said nothing. 'He's just not paying attention, is he?' she thought.
She leaned far across the desk to put her forefinger right under the boy's nose and bellowed, "Where is God?"
Josh screamed and bolted from the room. He ran all the way to home. Finding his older brother home, he dragged him upstairs to his room and into the closet, where they usually shared secrets.
"I am in BIIIIG trouble," he wailed.
"What do you mean, BIG trouble?" Hosh asked.
His brother replied, "God is missing and they think I did it!"
A Cup Too Full
“I can’t help it if I am surrounded by idiots,” Josh replied. “They talk like idiots. They even look like idiots. Listening to them would be a waste of time.”
They may look like idiots,” said Rosh, “and even talk like idiots, but don't let that fool you. They are beginning to get better results than you.”
“They really are idiots, Pa,” Josh dismissed the observation. “You don't know how hard it is to put up with all the idiots around you.”
“Because they don't know something doesn't make them an idiot,” Rosh explained patiently, “not doing something about it does. They are doing something about what they don’t know. You are not.”
“You are beginning to sit on your laurels and have stopped working. Meanwhile, the world keeps plodding along. You were top of the class last year, now many are ahead of you.”
“The teachers in the new class don’t like me,” Josh retorted. “That’s all.”
“Why?” asked Rosh.
“I don’t suck up to them like the others,” said Josh. “I’m not a teacher’s pet. And some of these new teachers don’t even know their stuff. They are always asking me to help other students in the class.”
“Nan-in,” Rosh sighed, “a Japanese Zen master, once received a learned scholar who had come to inquire about Zen.”
“As was customary, they went and sat at his table. A kettle was put on the boil to serve the guest tea. Then they started talking.”
“Even though the visitor had come here to learn from the master, he couldn’t resist showing off how much he already knew.”
“The master smiled as he sat listening attentively to his guest. Soon, tea was ready. Without interrupting the flow of his guest, Nan-in served him tea.”
“He poured in his visitor’s cup. The cup was soon full, but Nan-in kept pouring. The tea rose to the rim and began to spill over on the table. Nan-in continued pouring.”
“As the hot water started on its way towards the visitor’s robes, the scholar couldn’t restrain himself any longer.”
“The Cup is too full,” he yelled, shuffling swiftly to get his garments out of harm’s way. “No more will go in!”
“So are you,” Nan-in said calmly, “then how can I give you more Zen?”
Josh stared at his father, trying to make sense of this parable. But Rosh said no more. He waited for the story to sink in.
"He did that just to shut the other guy up?" Josh spoke at last. “That wasn’t a very nice thing to do to your guest. I wouldn’t have visited this rude fellow again.”
“Still finding fault with the teachers,” Rosh flared. “You should open your mind before you open your mouth.”
"If you want to learn, you have to SHUT UP and LISTEN for a change. Sometimes another person has to catch you with your guard down in order to teach you something."
“Knowledge talks, wisdom listens. I’d rather you were as wise as you think you’re knowledgeable. Don’t become like Nan-in’s full cup, in which one can pour no more.”
“It is good to be knowledgeable. But if you are so full already, what more can be added? You need to empty your cup to take in more.”
“Why do I need more,” Josh murmured, “if I have it already?”
“You think you do,” answered Rosh, “but you don’t. You talk down to others. Blame your teachers. You act as though you are wiser than all, but neither your results nor your attitude reflect this.”
“Actions should speak louder than words. Knowledge should make you humble, not arrogant. The heavier a tree becomes with juicy fruit, the more its branches should stoop to the ground.”
"Even if you have the knowledge, there is always more to learn. You cannot learn anything new if you feel that you already know it all. That over-confidence stops your growth.”
"Unlearn it, so you can learn."
Josh stared at his father, his eyes blazing with silent hurt and rage, but he said nothing. Rosh was shocked at his reaction, stunned by its intensity.
‘Knowledge is learning something every day,’ he realized suddenly. ‘Wisdom is letting something go every day. Maybe, it is time I let go. Maybe I am being the cup too full.’
But he couldn’t. He felt duty bound not to give up on his own son, and confident that he had not been too harsh in judging his son’s attitude, underperformance and behaviour.
“Am I being wise and understanding,’ he asked himself, ‘or just opinionated about him?’
‘I’ll watch myself,’ he resolved. ‘And reserve judgment until I’m sure that I am guiding him impartially and being fair to him. For wisdom is what's left, when we've run out of personal opinions.’
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