Story of my Imperfections.

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The moment I was brought out from my mother’s womb, I cried and screamed. Why? Because I felt the pain we shared in her labour. The badness and imperfections I saw in this world as I came out caused my little heart to panic uncontrollably that I clenched my legs together as the doctor raised me up. The painful atmosphere of my delivery was as a result of my Imperfection. As I grew up, my Imperfections grew up.  All the fights, injuries, tears, sicknesses, insults, pain and losses grew up with me notwithstanding the positive moments.

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The wrinkles we bear in our old age tell us how much our Imperfections have grown comparing it to our youthful days. The fact that we say ‘I am sorry’ to someone means we are imperfect because we erred. The fact that we still cry means we are Imperfect and the fact that we still muse means we are Imperfect. Time and unforeseen occurrences make up our imperfect world. Being at the right place at the wrong time and the wrong choices we make sometimes sum up our Imperfection. Let us not look down upon our fellow humans because we are all encircled by Imperfection. Let us look at the positive sides in us. Even though I gave my mother pain in her labour, she still smiled in her pain and saw the good in me and that was how she overcame her pain. ‘Mama knows best’ because she sees our Imperfections but still believes in our capabilities. What else can I say? I am undeserved.

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