Chapter 2 A search for my identity and worth

As money, I continuously reinforced my worldview into associating what I am today with my claim on the past Karma. I was fortunate to be a 'Money' indeed. As a people saying goes to highlight that 'the continuous display of good fortune in this life is result of past deeds', I felt favored wit my claim on karma where I usually chant mantras, implore my master Guru Rinpoche and take refuge in the Buddha Dharma,. I had a great life, but as time passed by contemplating and chanting holy mantras, a day had arrived, and everything changed... Around 9:40 am that day, an excellent woman having a blend of white and yellow hair, a drak sunglasses befitingly perched over her forehead with a joyfully grinning broad smile over her face and lean body, gave a deep gasp, pulled her handbag aside where I saw good looking man Dollar Fifty inside. She pulled him out of her purse. No sooner did she make the offer than she left the monastery. I had a new friend, and surprior to me too.

Being a delicate and soft hearted one, I had a desire for the truly nicelooking man, the seemingly sacrosanct offer made by the woman with drak glasses. I felt romantic, and indeed, I didn't know whether I was energized or reinvigorated, or had I fallen for him? From the depths of my heart, I craved for the joyous accomplice of my new neighbor. My mind had already begun addressing the handsome Dollar Fifty-"Hello ther, HI, How are you?"

I recollected that I indeed inquired his name and the little. He responded, " I am John." As our acquaintance grew, I wished I were him.I would have been cheerful then. I wished to be Dollar Fifty. Dollar is the currency of many nations unlike me.i gradually began to realize my diminishing worth in front of him. With the changes in the mentality of people, thousands of individuals had left the land of the thunder dragon in search of his sibling Dollars. My value as money remains inferior even in the minds of our own people.My contemplation and prayers in the altars altered. every day, I wished to be a dollar and not money. The sad irony in that sober place where I lived.

The feeling of my diminishing worth and sagging morale did not leave me. My mind loitering through the slums looking for my true identity.I remembered my value before the arrival of my neighbor. I remembered how people chased me for possession, how men toiled thither night to acquire me. Now, I am not even worth the eyes of my own people. I felt low of myself being a money.What was once a period of exhilaration, it suddenly became a period of desolation. individuals at some point of time in the past tossed me over parties, and everyone rushed to grab me. I changed my hands in powerful and rich people. Some people protected me a lot and used to keep me secure in a wooden box locked from outside. Although I felt tensed up and suffocating at times, I overcame challenges to arrive at a holy altar where I resided peacefully until the arrival of my new neighbor, Dollar Fifty.

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