Sunny today.

I was not late for the class today, neither.
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You are apt to spend a great deal of time communicating with co-workers today. This is a good time to take stock of your work in order to find and make any changes that are necessary to create and ensure a positive outcome. You have lots of energy to complete any project today. You are at your most practical when it comes to dealing and working with others. You know just what to do and can act without haste. You are called on to make use of your natural abilities and common sense. You will find a way to improve finances. Your emotions are heightened making you sympathetic and well disposed to loved ones. Try to keep a measure of objectivity at this time. You may find that someone close to you understands and is supportive of your unique ideas.----Excerpts from MSN ARABIA
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Your imagination has never been more vivid; this is an excellent time to launch creative projects. Financial problems could be holding you back from pursuing a particular path. Don't fool yourself into thinking artists need to be rich. Make more time for the activities you love. If that means cutting back on spiritually deadening work, do it. The Universe is poised to reward big gambles.
Your love may be more future than past, but right now you feel in your heart that you'll make history together. Couples with more of a track record are still optimistic. Nothing separates those who deserve to be partnered like this.Excerpts from MSN UK & Ireland
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She had always been very sensitive to criticism. The smallest events would become big issues. Small arguments would become big quarrels. She would not say anything however. She was not brought up to speak her mind. Therefore, she sulked. At seventy-five years of age, she was in a mental institution. Her years of experience and her memories were her only companions. All her life, her catch phrase had been: ¡ÈI do not want to talk about it.¡É Now, there was nobody to listen. The doctor that she met with once in a week would allow her to ramble, check his watch every now and then, and give her a prescription for the next week. He had other tasks. He was an intern, forced to work in the government mental hospital for a year as a part of his degree plan. She bored him. He dutifully recorded all their sessions and doodled on his notepad when she spoke. She was beyond help. At her age, why should anyone care, anyways?

The doctor would go home every night to his young wife and twins. Constant wailing of the kids and whining of his wife on top of his hectic schedule at the hospital wore him out. Nevertheless, he had no choice. His wife of four years had seen him through medical school. Two years back she had told him that she was pregnant, and he was ecstatic. Now, he just regretted it. There were unfathomable distances between his better half and him. Even in bed, all she talked about was the twins. It was like going home to strangers. The kids merely wailed at him, as if he was an intruder in his own home. On the day that he met the old lady at the hospital, he would be more depressed than usual. She sounded so much like an older version of his wife. Complaints, regrets, questions, indecisions, over-sensitivity -- it was all there. Without realizing it, he had started bringing work home, mentally. It was something he had always despised in other people. We have work hours precisely so that we can disassociate ourselves from work outside of that specific time. However, it had become increasingly difficult to do so. There were other patients too. There was a young girl, who had recently attempted suicide, a man going through severe depression and mid-life crisis. There were so many of them. He was beginning to think that mental conditions were the rule rather than the exception, and the new studies in the field of psychology seemed to confirm his suspicions. He doubted if life was worth living at all. Once again, he went to sleep, his head filled with thoughts of escaping life, with his pillow covering his head to shut out the cries of his children.

At the hospital, the old lady was in one of her sulky moods again. She had refused dinner and was sitting in her cell, pondering over something, looking out into the distance from the window bars, focusing on nothing visible. Tomorrow she had an appointment with the doctor again. He was too young, she thought, to deal with her problems. She was made to talk while he supposedly took notes. She knew that he did not. She knew that he felt trapped. Yes, she had known enough males in her life to know how much an old crazy lady's life is valued. It was a way of life; she never liked it but accepted it.

She remembered the time when she was young and beautiful. Her sulkiness was appealing then. Her dark eyes held secrets that every man thought he could penetrate. She would say nothing and avoided all advances coldly. Sometimes the attention would secretly please her. Then her father arranged for her to get married. She was outraged that she had to go to another man's house without even being asked if she wanted to. Yet, she said nothing. Her husband was a lawyer. People said that he was very smart and good at what he did. His family reputation was flawless, and she was his socially respected wife. He was not that good at what he did, she noticed. He needed help from his father to even comprehend some cases. Every time she found him asking for advise from his father, he would beat her up, to force her to respect him. She still kept silent and said nothing. Her mother had told her to bear everything patiently, and she did. Alas! Memory is more often a downfall, than not.

The doctor looked up at her and smiled his formal smile when she walked in. She was still very graceful, he observed while sorting through his papers. A tinge of humanity touched his eyes as he thought that, and his expression became gentler. With professional courtesy, he asked her where she would like to sit and she sat in her chair as usual without further ceremony. ¡ÈHe hated our children.¡É The doctor spun around to look at her and sat down next to her, waiting for her to say the next sentence. She had hit too close to home. She looked out the window on the other side and said, ¡ÈHe -- my husband -- hated our children. He ordered me to keep them out of his way. If he ran across one of them, he would beat the child up. Then it was my turn to receive punishment.¡É She was now looking straight at the doctor's eyes. Her eyes, he noticed were beautiful -- dark and mysterious, and pained. She continued, ¡ÈMen think they have so much power and strength, don't they? Do you know what childbirth feels like, Dr. B?¡É Her voice had remained calm in spite of the nature of the questions she was asking him. He merely shook his head and asked her to continue. She smiled and said, ¡ÈForget it, it was just a question. You probably are not allowed to tell me any of your thoughts anyway, so as not to influence mine. I do have one request, doctor. If you have any kids, never hate them, please. It hurts them, it hurts you and it hurts the fabric of the society. I am tired. I want to go now. It has been nice talking to you today. I hope you know how special you are to people's lives. You listen. Nobody else does. You do not have to care, but it helps.¡É

Radhika left the room then. Dr. B sat with his head held between his hands, sobbing about what she had just told him. He realized how close he had come to giving up hope. How close he had come to becoming inhuman. This old lady had helped. He ran out of his office because he needed to apologize to her, to all humankind for what he had become. ¡ÈRadhika, Radhika¡Ä?¡É Her cell was empty. There was nothing there to indicate occupation. He stopped a nurse mid-track. ¡ÈWhere is Ms. Radhika? Patient number 306?¡É

The nurse said only this; ¡ÈShe passed away last night in a trance-like state. Dr. B, I am sorry we forgot to cancel her appointment with you. I hope it was not an inconvenience for you.¡É
-----------Excerpts from MSN India
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