Essay On The Autobiography Of A Weaver

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Essay On The Autobiography Of A Weaver

I am askilful weaver and my name is Santoshilal. I can make the finest garments that would fit the King, Queen and the Princess. Unfortunately, I am very poor. One day, I decided to try my luck at the neighbouring kingdom.

I lived there for two years and worked very hard to earn four hundred gold coins. I decided to return home. I started my journey. At sunset, I found myself at the middle of the forest. I climbed a tall tree and went to sleep. In my dream, I saw the God of action and the God of destiny talking to each other.

The God of destiny asked the God of action, “This weaver is not blessed to live a comfortable life. Why did you help him earn four hundred gold coins? The God of action replied, “I have to give rewards who work hard. Weather the weaver can keep his wealth or not is in his hands.” This dream shook me awake. I immediately looked in my bag and found that my coins were missing. I started crying. I was horrified to face my wife without money. Therefore, I decided to earn money all over again by going back.

This time I made five hundred gold coins in a year. This time too I had the same dream. I looked into my bag and found that my coins were missing. I lost all hopes and decided to kill myself. Suddenly I heard a voice from the sky: “O Santoshilal! I am Lord Destiny, the one who took away your wealth. However, I am happy with your hard work and honesty. Ask for a blessing and I shall bestow it.” I requested to return me my lost wealth. Soon the voice asked me to go and meet two wealthy merchants, Carodimal and Atmaram who lived in the neighbouring kingdom.

I followed the advice and went to Carodimal’s house. I asked him to let me stay for the night. Although he agreed, but unwillingly gave me dinner believing that, I was an unwelcomed guest. The next morning, I visited Atmaram’s house. Here I was warmly greeted, loved and respected. I had a good meal and slept peacefully. The next day, a messenger of the King came to Atmaram’s house and gave him a big sum of money on behalf of the King.

I realised that it was better to be like Atmaram. He enjoyed life with whatever he had. I whispered to myself, “What’s the use of being rich but miserly?” Happy with my choice, the Gods from heaven showered wealth on me.

Essay On The Autobiography Of A Weaver


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