These people who are unable to see beyond the last scene without neither sacrifices nor sweat are undeniably abhorrent. Their cocoon prevents them from seeing tumbling and paralysis before others dust off their clothes and clamber up rung by rung. I deep down believe that we can’t succeed unless we fail firstly. We have to savour every taste life offers until we get the privilege of tucking in what is delicious and nutritious and putting aside what our mind can not digest. We came to this precarious world as an archive. Its papers are be filled with remorse, despair, triumphs,etc. How can we learn filling archives neatly at tender age without experiencing life’s whips. Two years ago I knew the surrealist, Frida Kahlo. According to my standpoint, reading autobiographies is metaphorically a cane to lean over when I get stooped because of life not aging. Frida was the role model since her ability to convert adversity and physical defects into art. She was not the sexiest woman on the earth to make ends meet and be in the limelight, but her latent talent did. She was not a mother of children to perpetuate her legacy but her misery did. Her husband was not the most faithful man the their marriage but her love was steadfast. Polio and infertiliy were not imperfections, but rather a catalyst for such paintings. There is nothing called handicap is only a state of mind. This world is our oyster, it will be generous as long as we gradually improve ourselves. Nothing is absolute, everything changes, everything revolves!