1
its really gr8.today I was so demotivate before reading this mail, but it seriously makes me motivated. Its really Excellent.
From India, Bangalore
From India, Bangalore
It was great post.It has given me a positive thinking towards my future, we people always find something which motivate us all the time at the time of our fails for this we do so many things but we forget the things near around us. Really i never thought like this that each n every thing around us tells something. Its really nice .Once again thanks for this post.:icon1::icon1::icon1::icon1:
Thanks n regards,
Rupal
From India, Bhopal
Thanks n regards,
Rupal
From India, Bhopal
Dear krishnamohon,
I read it, again U 've reminded me U donot go out of room to get the lessons of success.It was nice reminder from Ur side.I thank U & gv u this:-
ROLTA”S STORY
In routine village life was routine for each and every member on the rustic side. They peeled their eyes open at the hint of sunrise. Washed up, packed and set off to gain from the earth’s womb.
But among the routizens, there was one young lad, Rolta who shirked off routine to think differently. He wanted to dwell on his own, live out from his own muse. So he looked around for ideas. People poked fun at him; his friends thought he was a bit bent in the head. While his parents cursed themselves for rearing a black sheep in their home.
But Rolta turned a blind ear to the incessant ugly downpour of words. He trusted his instincts and kept his head up high. One day as he walked through the village, his shoes got entangled in the weed that grew surreptitiously on the ground. Yanking it out from them, Rolta landed on his bottom with a thud, clutching his shoes to his chest he laid there for a few minutes and then suddenly, it dawned on him what he wanted to do in life.
He went around observing the shoes of everyone in the village and pitied the sight of tattered footwear where flies had made their nest and cracks multiplied generously. The city shoes were too expensive for the poor villagers and so they wore shoes till no one could use it ever again, not even a cockroach.
Rolta went to the city to collect information and resources on how to make shoes. He worked with a shoemaker only to return home 6 months later, equipped with knowledge and material. He made a pair of shoes for everyone in his house who proudly prodded the village citing their son’s talent. Soon people requested Rolta to make shoes for them. He did at a price they could pay, but at a price with his profits included.
Word spread like fire and Rolta had shoe projects he never dreamed of. He put up a board at his home, Rolta Shoe Mart – give your feet some love. Was the tagline he used to attract people and profits.
And so Routine Village had something un-routine about it. There was a new cobbler that made shoes in their village. Soon Rolta employed 6 men in his studio factory and taught them the craft of weaving rubber and tan. Transporters were employed to deliver the products. Suppliers were employed to receive the products. Rolta’s father was given the charge of the factory’s finance. His mother was in charge of quality. Everyone in Rolta’s family had a job that earned them more money than their regular jobs.
Rolta’s parents were now proud of their son. He was not the black sheep of the house anymore, name calling was forsaken. Instead now it was ‘Rolta saheb’, after all he was the village saviour.
Always trust yourself and your instincts. Be proud and confident of yourself no matter how small a person you are. Success will Chase U.
regards!
=Lahiri,Kolkata.
From India, Calcutta
I read it, again U 've reminded me U donot go out of room to get the lessons of success.It was nice reminder from Ur side.I thank U & gv u this:-
ROLTA”S STORY
In routine village life was routine for each and every member on the rustic side. They peeled their eyes open at the hint of sunrise. Washed up, packed and set off to gain from the earth’s womb.
But among the routizens, there was one young lad, Rolta who shirked off routine to think differently. He wanted to dwell on his own, live out from his own muse. So he looked around for ideas. People poked fun at him; his friends thought he was a bit bent in the head. While his parents cursed themselves for rearing a black sheep in their home.
But Rolta turned a blind ear to the incessant ugly downpour of words. He trusted his instincts and kept his head up high. One day as he walked through the village, his shoes got entangled in the weed that grew surreptitiously on the ground. Yanking it out from them, Rolta landed on his bottom with a thud, clutching his shoes to his chest he laid there for a few minutes and then suddenly, it dawned on him what he wanted to do in life.
He went around observing the shoes of everyone in the village and pitied the sight of tattered footwear where flies had made their nest and cracks multiplied generously. The city shoes were too expensive for the poor villagers and so they wore shoes till no one could use it ever again, not even a cockroach.
Rolta went to the city to collect information and resources on how to make shoes. He worked with a shoemaker only to return home 6 months later, equipped with knowledge and material. He made a pair of shoes for everyone in his house who proudly prodded the village citing their son’s talent. Soon people requested Rolta to make shoes for them. He did at a price they could pay, but at a price with his profits included.
Word spread like fire and Rolta had shoe projects he never dreamed of. He put up a board at his home, Rolta Shoe Mart – give your feet some love. Was the tagline he used to attract people and profits.
And so Routine Village had something un-routine about it. There was a new cobbler that made shoes in their village. Soon Rolta employed 6 men in his studio factory and taught them the craft of weaving rubber and tan. Transporters were employed to deliver the products. Suppliers were employed to receive the products. Rolta’s father was given the charge of the factory’s finance. His mother was in charge of quality. Everyone in Rolta’s family had a job that earned them more money than their regular jobs.
Rolta’s parents were now proud of their son. He was not the black sheep of the house anymore, name calling was forsaken. Instead now it was ‘Rolta saheb’, after all he was the village saviour.
Always trust yourself and your instincts. Be proud and confident of yourself no matter how small a person you are. Success will Chase U.
regards!
=Lahiri,Kolkata.
From India, Calcutta
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