5 Micro Skills That Will Improve Your Life Drastically

// A THREAD //

NARHARI AND BHAGWAN PANDURANG/VITTHAL

Once a goldsmith by the name of Narhari lived in Pandharpur. He excelled in his craft. He had vowed not to look at Pandurang or visit his mandir ever, as he was a Shiva Bhakt.
One day, a wealthy merchant visited him.

He wanted a gold girdle studded with precious gems, to be made for Prabhu Vitthal. Narhari refused to make it as it was for Vitthal.
After many requests, he agreed to make the girdle but asked the merchant to bring the measurement from the mandir as he himself would not go there

The measurement was given n he made the girdle. When the girdle was put on Vitthal, it was loose. Narhari had to shorten it. Now the girdle became tight. So Narhari was forced to take measurement on his own. He had to go to the mandir but went blindfolded to avoid seeing Vitthal

In the Mandir, when blindfolded Narhari touched Vitthal, he felt as if he was touching Shiva with matted hair, the moon, snake in His neck and Trishul in His hand. Ecstatic with joy, he removed the blindfold to see Shiva but he found the murti of Vitthal with Rukmini there.

He realised the truth that there was no difference between Vitthal and Shiva. Narhari at once fell at the feet of Panduranga. He then took the measurement of the waist of Vitthal and this time the ornament fit the Murti perfectly.

Narayan Hari🙏🏻

Spent a quaint half hour in a cafe listening to a guy yell at his dad after his dad said that the women Trump molested wanted it: "Dad, that's like saying the Jews who died in the Holocaust were asking for it!" ENJOY YOUR TERRIBLE FAMILIES THIS WEEK!

"Mom, has a man ever touched you without your consent?"
"Of course."
"Did you report it?"
"No."
"Dad, your WIFE has been through this!"

Dad was unmoved and told the guy to stop arguing with him.

At this point we learned the boy child has allergies.

I forgot to remark upon the presence of the very cute grandson, who was very small and gave not one shit about the yelling. I believe a sister or aunt was present and feeling very stressed. I wanted to hand her a Xanax or seven.

It was really hard to not jump in and say, "Sounds like you guys are going to have a fun meal tomorrow!" so they could unite in hatred against me, the outsider, and stop squabbling. Instead I exchanged glances with a nearby fellow lady patron, who also emotionally ate a cookie.

Anyway, I want to thank the random family for yelling about rape and the Holocaust in an Israeli cafe in the US of A today because it reminded me that while this country isn't the greatest, it is inevitably my stupid favorite and I am never, ever bored.