My Little Birthday Present


With soiled pants and torn shirt I walk through the main room. Out-matched yet confident.
I see fancy cakes. Fancy cards and huge presents, but I care less about all that. My pride undeterred, I proceed to the main arena, to hold the hand of the one, to whose life we are drinking up ti on this honored day.
Between my palms lies my Birthday present. The most rare present one would ever get, at least I know that much because it cost me my pants and a hole in the shirt to get it.
Behold I bring the winged-sheath. I know you would call it a bug but to me it is something more than just a beetle. It is a life lesson, a classroom without walls. Its hard sheath on the outer wings show how cynical its personality is about trust issues. And its love for only one kind of game shows how dull its short life on earth has become.
I wish it knew how many tonnes of energy hang in its body un used, or rather remained poorly used. Did it know those balls of dung it rolled were over 50times its weight?
If only these things were clear to it, maybe it could not have missed the most important law of existence: “Know your strengths and forge new paths with it for you are one of a kind. Just because nature says play dead when you meet something you can’t defeat doesn’t mean nature is always right.” Nature only makes fair enough to consider the weak and the strong. But when your strength lies on the extremities of either sides, then you just might need to write your own laws and break out of the shell.
That is my message to my birthday friend, to whom I have the honor of presenting my gift. Admire not its unconfidence but its beauty and strength

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