Shakeela's first movie was a Tamil soft porn movie named "Playgirls", in which Silk Smitha was the leading actress. After that she acted in many B graded movies. Her big hit film was Kinnarathumbikal in Malayalam, which brought her under limelight. She did few controversial topless scenes in her initial movies, but used body-doubles in her later movies. She had become popular by acting in B-grade Malayalm films . The returns on these films are assured even if they run only in 30 to 40 stations. Her popular B-Grade films were dubbed and released in almost all Indian languages. Her films were dubbed even into foreign languages like Nepalese, Chinese, Sinhala etc. After she acted in several movies, the soft-porn movie industry in India was colloqiuly called as "Shakeela films".[3] Shakeela has started appearing in comedy oriented family character roles in Tamil, Telugu and Kannada since 2003. She is going to write autobiography which is supposed to include all her acqintances with notable film personalities, politicians and childhood friends. [4][5] She acted in more than 110 movies.
Shakeela has featured in over 100 films in Malayalam, Tamil, Hindi, kannanda and Telugu in various roles.
Year | Film | Language |
---|---|---|
2013 | Neelakurinji Poothu | Malayalam [6] |
2012 | Kai | Tamil |
2012 | Aasami | Tamil |
2011 | Ninety | Kannada |
2011 | Teja Bhai & Family | Malayalam |
2011 | Guru Sishyan | Tamil |
2010 | Boss Engira Bhaskaran | Tamil |
2010 | Maanja Velu | Tamil |
2009 | Malai Malai | Tamil |
2009 | Siva Manasula Sakthi | Tamil |
2008 | Dongala Bandi | Telugu |
2007 | Azhagiya Tamil Magan | Tamil |
2007 | Chotta Mumbai | Malayalam |
2006 | Vathiyar | Tamil |
2006 | Bangaram | Telugu |
2005 | Thaka Thimi Tha | Tamil |
2003 | Dhool | Tamil |
2003 | Dongodu | Telugu |
2003 | Jayam | Tamil |
2003 | Puttintiki Ra Chelli | Telugu |
2003 | Veendum Thulabharam | Malayalam |
2003 | Jayam | Telugu |
2002 | Penmanassu | Malayalam |
2002 | Thotti Gang | Telugu |
2002 | Soundharyalahari | Telugu |
2003 | duppatlo dhada dhada | Telugu |
2001 | Agniputhri | Telugu |
2001 | Sagara | Kannada |
2001 | Sneha | Tamil |
2001 | Nayeem And Shakeela | Telugu |
2001 | Aalilathoni | Malayalam |
2000 | Kinnara Thumbikal | Malayalam |
1998 | Marumalarchi | Tamil |
1998 | Udhavikku Varalaamaa | Tamil |
1994 | Jallikattu Kaalai | Tamil |
1989 | Aakhri Ghulam | Hindi |
2009 | Paape O Parupu | Telugu |
karchina pradeep kulkarni | Telugu | |
Kulirkattu | Malayalam | |
Kkodi Tho Dinkchik | Bhojpuri | |
Bavalu Sayya | Telugu | |
Nijam | Telugu | |
Chance | Kannada | |
Ranganayaki | Tamil | |
Dear Sneha | Telugu | |
Vagalady | Telugu | |
Paruvam | Malayalam | |
Hostel | Malayalam | |
Kalluvathikkal Katrina | Malayalam | |
Driving school | Malayalam | |
Mami | Malayalam | |
Chara Sundari | Malayalam | |
Tamil | ||
Layam | Malayalam | |
Koumaram | Malayalam | |
Rakkilikal | Malayalam | |
Neela Thadakathile Nizhal Pakshikal | Malayalam | |
thappu | Tamil |
Year | Film | Language |
---|---|---|
2013 | Neelakurinji Poothu | Malayalam |
Exerpts from her Auto Biography "Shakeela Atumkatha"
It was big news when makeup artiste Umashankar, who helped
me take baby steps in the movies, decided to make a film. This was publicised in
the newspapers in 1994. For me the news brought joy and anxiety, because
sometime earlier, he had told me that if he ever made a movie, he would give me
a prominent role in it. My anxiety was related to whether he would remember his
promise and keep it. At the same time, I was reluctant to meet him and directly
ask him for the opportunity. However, all my anxieties were swept away when he
walked into my flat one day and announced, “I’m going to make a movie. And you
have a significant role in it.”
I held those words close to my heart, because, by then, I had grown to love my
work before the camera so much. I requested him to get permission from my father
right away. Those were the days when I was shooting for the serial “Nancy”. But
when the opportunity came to work in the movies, I was keen to pursue it. I felt
I was moving closer to a career in the movies. I was determined to work in this
film. It was Umashankar’s affection for me that granted me this opening.
The movie was being made under the banner of the reputed production company, RDS
Films, with R D Shekhar as producer. “Playgirls” was its name. I set off for AVM
studio, praying that I would get a role. My first task was to meet the producer.
If he felt I suited the role, I would get it. I wondered whether Umashankar had
told him about me, and that I would do a good job if I got a chance. I was
wearing a very tight skirt and top for my interview. I reached AVM Studios on
time. The producer looked at me from top to toe at our meeting. I felt he was
looking at me not with his eyes, but with the lens of a camera.
“What is your name?”
“Shakeela.”
“Okay. You come to the shoot tomorrow,” said the producer.
That was my screen test. I’d always heard that the screen test to get a chance
in the movies was a really serious matter. I was intrigued that my screen test
had been so simple, but this also increased my confidence. I believed that they
could see the mark of a movie actor in me. I sensed that this easy opportunity
was the opening of the doorway to a life in the movies. When I left the studio,
I felt that I had been on the grounds of a temple where great actors had worked,
and I was overcome by emotion. So many movies, so many actors had lived and died
here. Even now, so many great actors come to work here. And in their midst,
there was me, a small Shakeela. Yes, the camera was coming closer to my life as
well. That was a day on which I felt really thrilled. I captured the setting,
AVM studios, with my eyes and heart.
When I returned from the studio, Umashankar told me, “You are playing the role
of Silk Smitha’s young sister.” It took me a while to understand what he was
saying. Because all I had wanted wassome role in the movies, I hadn’t expected
such a good role. My mind began to spin like a reel of film. The characters that
she had played rose up before my eyes. Her face, large eyes, beautiful body,
captivating lips – I remembered them all. And I examined myself. Was I capable,
or worthy, of acting with a famous actor like Silk Smitha? If I was, I felt I
had received the best gift of my life.
I came back home and shared my excitement with everyone. I could barely sleep
that night. I built castles in the air about what it would be like to be
introduced to her, work with her, eat a meal with her. I wondered how she would
treat me on the sets. I felt she would greet me like a younger sister. I was
meeting her for the first time. I was overjoyed at the thought of the good role
and the opportunity to work with Silk Smitha. Thinking of these great strokes of
luck, I somehow managed to get through the night.
I got ready very early in the morning. A car stopped in front of my flat – the
car that was to take me to the location of the shoot. I stood up straight, with
pride. A vehicle had come to take me for my first movie shoot. I prayed to all
the gods. As I came down the stairs, I was setting the stage of my dreams. I
imagined my face on the big screen, a secure future for my family, good roles
that any actor would be delighted with, the fame that would accompany these
roles, actors who had gone before me – for a moment, all these flashed before my
eyes. As the car drove away, I gazed outside. Tomorrow, I would be known as a
film star in this street, my street. Wouldn’t people try to peek into my car? My
mind kept sailing on the ship of my desires. In any case, I’ve never been
miserly in the matter of dreams. After all when your dreams touch the sky, your
achievements may turn out hill-high!
As soon as I reached the location, the makeup artiste came up to me and handed
me a wig. He also gave me a skirt to wear. At first, I couldn’t quite take it
in. I held it up and asked him, “What is this? Is this long enough?” “It’s long
enough,” he replied. And he held out a pair of stockings. I was seeing tights
for the first time, and didn’t know how to wear them. I listened to the
costumer’s instructions, went to the bathroom, and struggled into them somehow.
I felt the clothes I was wearing didn’t suit my figure, and felt uncomfortable.
I felt ashamed to step out in them. The tiny skirt and tights. I suddenly felt
an unexplained sorrow. Acting was my daily bread now but I was crying inside.
Then I reminded myself that all I needed to do was act, and composed myself.
I looked around the location. My eyes were seeking out Silk Smitha. I was
longing to see her, sit by her, speak to her. But that wasn’t going to happen
right away. The enchantress was resting in a glass-walled air-conditioned room,
her feet up on a chair. She paid attention to no one, and no one went up to her.
What if she didn’t like it if I walked up to her? If she was thinking about
something, wouldn’t my interruption be a nuisance? I damped down my wishes.
That’s when I was informed that my first shot was going to be with the beautiful
wonder called Silk Smitha. My first shot ever, in my first movie. I panicked. I
wondered how she would treat me. I prayed for the courage to face the camera in
her presence. When I thought that the most blessed moment of my life was due any
moment, I sweated.
The assistant director called out to me, “Shot ready. Please come.”
I walked behind him. The scene involved my offering coffee to a just-bathed Silk
Smitha, swaying down the stairs in her still damp clothing. Smitha walked down
the stairs and her walk left me wonderstruck. She knew exactly how to present
her body in the most striking fashion. As every cell from the tips of her toes
to her face reflected the walk that she was aiming for, I froze at the thought
that I was expected to act alongside her. I quickly collected myself and stood
ready to do my bit. The shot called for me to say, “Akka, coffee,” and hold out
a cup of coffee to the bathed, towel-in-her-hair Smitha, who would then slap my
face.
I was new to the manoeuvrings of the movies. I stood at the ready at the bottom
of the stairs, the filled coffee cup in my hand. I could see the panties that
Smitha was wearing very clearly. She was wearing a skirt that was even shorter
than mine. I was convinced that this was an oversight. I was afraid that no one
else had pointed this out to her. In my naiveté, I quickly called out to her,
“Excuse me, madam, I can see your panties.” I was doing what I thought was the
right thing.
The director and others gestured for me to keep quiet as the room froze. In the
hush, people stared at me and glanced at one another. While I stood there,
convinced I had done the right thing. But I couldn’t understand the stillness
that had followed my pointing out that Smitha’s skirt was too short. All I had
done was draw their attention to what was clearly an error. I couldn’t figure
out what was going on. In a moment, everyone grew active again. I felt that
Smitha had given me a ‘look’.
“Well, it’s her business,” I thought, and kept quiet. But my gaze remained
riveted on Silk Smitha’s underwear. It was as if I could see nothing else.
The shooting resumed. Silk Smitha came down the stairs again in her damp short
skirt. I waited for her downstairs in my own short skirt and top, holding the
cup of coffee. “Action!” shouted the director.
“Akka, coffee…”, I offered the cup of coffee to Silk Smitha.
Smitha delivered a stinging slap. Just as the scene called for. The sound
reverberated around the room. I was stunned. My mouth turned dry and I sweated.
My cheek burned with the pain. I couldn’t understand what was going on. Silk
Smitha had just slapped me, with my younger sister Sheetal and the entire unit
looking on. My eyes overflowed spontaneously. Forgetting everything around me,
including the camera, I broke into sobs. I couldn’t absorb that slap that I had
received in front of the whole unit. And then Silk Smitha tried to hug me. I
couldn’t understand anything. I couldn’t figure out why this woman had hit me.
As I relived the slap again and again, I broke into fresh sobs. Angry, upset and
emotional, I ran off the sets. I was afraid I would fall to the ground in
humiliation if I continued standing there.
As I ran home, I was sure that my life in the movies had come to an end. I had
upset the shooting schedule of a very popular star. I would receive no more
opportunities. I felt that it was okay even if I had no more options, I did not
want to continue acting if I had to compromise my dignity. By the time I reached
home, I found that several members of the unit, including the director, had
already reached there in a car.
I was in no mood to listen. “Why did she hit me?” I demanded. “I don’t need to
put up with the beatings of any bitch. I will manage to live, even if I have to
marry a menial. What business did she have to hit me?” I babbled angrily. I
stood fearlessly before them, making it clear that I didn’t care if I never
acted again. While they kept trying to calm me down and persuade me to return.
“This is the movies. If you don’t get your timing right, these errors will
occur. You are feeling upset because this is your first experience. Come back
with us to the sets as quickly as possible. Everyone is waiting for you there.
Time is money in the movies. Remember that. It’s not that we can’t find anyone
else to do your role. We understand how inexperienced you are and that is the
reason we have followed you and tried to coax you to return.”
“I’m in no shape to come back today. I’m very upset.” I sent them back. I wasn’t
mature enough at the time to distinguish between acting and real life. Later, I
felt guilty that I hadn’t remembered that I was working in a sex education film.
In any case, I didn’t go back to the sets for two days. I was being stubborn.
Then, giving in to my father’s urging, I decided to go back. Then I remembered
that even though she had hit me in front of the entire unit, and I had fled
crying, Silk Smitha hadn’t called me or said a word to console me. My anger
flared again. I went back to the unit, but reluctantly. I sat in a corner,
ignoring everyone. As soon as they saw me, the director and other unit members
came running and greeted me with a lot of warmth. I was due to act a scene with
Smitha at 10.30 that morning. As soon as she saw me, she ran to me, gave me a
hug and kissed me. I hadn’t expected such a move from her. I tried to shrug her
off. But she wasn’t about to let me go.
“Leave me alone, what do you want with me? Let me go,” I said loudly. My anger
was still raging.
“Let it go, Shakeela. I did what I did to make sure the shot went well.
Otherwise, why would I treat you like that? I have no anger towards you, I
didn’t even know you before that shot. I didn’t do it on purpose. You felt bad
because this was your first experience,” she said.
“I don’t want to hear all this. Even if the movie gets an award, I will still
have received the beating. My pain will be the same. And in front of all these
people? It’s because you are a big star that you behaved like that. Leave me,
akka,” I said, and flounced away. I felt the sweetness of victory at that
moment. But Smitha was watching me with a smile as I walked away.
That day, as I walked away, I felt proud that I had asserted my individuality in
front of the whole unit. But later in my movie career, when small blunders
occurred on the sets, I would feel that I hadn’t been fair to Smitha. Her hug
and kiss had been an expression of some affection that she had felt for me.
After my shots, I went to my room to rest. I kept wondering how Silk would treat
me in the future. I had arrogantly dismissed her expression of affection and
walked to my room. I was very anxious as I awaited my next scene.
Every day, Smitha would stop shooting at 12.30pm and come back to the sets at 3
‘o’clock. She only ever left the sets after informing the director and her
co-workers. But she would always return on time. I learnt about how punctual she
was on the sets. I was uncomfortable, thinking I would have to meet her in the
afternoon, and wondered how I would interact with her. When she hugged me, I
should have just said I was fine. Then I would have been able to continue to
work with her smoothly. I sat in my room, unsure of what to do. Then someone
came to my room and said that Smitha was asking for me.
As soon as I heard this, I ran to her room. I had so longed for her to reach out
to me. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I got to her room. She had set out a box
of different kinds of chocolates for me. She said, “I got these as a gift. But
please take them.” That’s all she said. But her expression was very loving. She
didn’t take her eyes off my face. I understood that the chocolates were not
someone’s gift, and that she had got them for me. She must have been reluctant
to say this openly, and that was why she pretended that she was just passing on
a gift that she wasn’t going to use. She was sitting with her legs crossed,
casually shaking a leg. My anger towards her melted like the chocolates she was
offering me. I felt sorry that I had annoyed a big star like her. I didn’t know
what to do, and stood with bowed head before her.
“You can go now, Shakeela,” she said. “Please share these chocolates with
everyone at home. And please give them my regards.” I left with sorrow.
Nor did her love and courtesy end with that. She grew even closer to me. One
day, she was leaving the sets when her car abruptly stopped in front of me, and
she invited me to lunch. “Come, we can eat at my house today. And we can return
together.” Even though she was an actress I had always been devoted to, I
demurred. Her face fell. She tried to persuade me. “Please come with me. We can
have lunch together.”
“I need to tell my father,” I tried to escape. But my sister Sheetal came
running up. She was eager to visit Silk’s house. She added her voice to prevail
on me. Finally, Sheetal, and more reluctantly I, got into Silk Smitha’s car. The
car sped off to Saligramam in Vadapalani. Smitha didn’t speak during the ride.
We too stayed quiet. But I could see her looking at Sheetal and me every now and
then.
When we reached her courtyard, she invited us, “Please come in, this is my
house. Welcome to both of you.” I felt my head spin when I looked at the house.
It might have been more appropriate to term it a palace. Everything had a royal
appearance. It was a five-bedroom mansion, which must have cost about 25,000
rupees to rent back then. Every room was nicely decorated. Paintings hung on the
walls. I could see that the house reflected her dreams. And I understood how a
star needed to live.
The joys and wonders didn’t end there for me. Smitha led us into the sitting
room to rest, and then went upstairs to her room. She came back in a short
while, having taken off her make-up and bathed. I can still see that scene
before my eyes. Taking in that vision coming down the stairs, I forgot myself. I
clutched Sheetal’s hand and gabbled, “How beautiful she is! She is so stunning
without make up. What a face! What a figure! This is beauty. This is the beauty
of a woman. Really, Andhra women are gorgeous, aren’t they?”
I was chattering, my eyes absorbed by the beauty of this star. Her clinging robe
made her figure seem even more attractive. She noticed me wide-eyed, marvelling,
and smiled. “Don’t get too excited.”
She led us to the rich feast that had been laid out for us. Smitha loved fish
curry and fried fish, and in addition to these dishes, there were many more.
Just looking at the spread made us feel full. Besides we were overcome by joy at
the thought of whom we were sharing the table with. I felt like Alice in
Wonderland. She chatted with us, getting to know us, and ate slowly, relishing
her food. After the meal, she instructed her driver to drop us back at the sets.
She told us that she would be back at 3.30pm When she was sending us back after
this royal treatment, Smitha looked at me. I didn’t know what to say and smiled
my thanks.
Smitha got back to the sets at half past three. I was sitting to one side of the
sets. As soon as she walked in, I automatically stood up in respect. She had
reapplied her makeup, and appeared fresh in a change of clothing. Her
punctuality and commitment to her work broke the horns of my arrogance and
crushed them to pieces. I looked at her like a first-grade kid.
I still believe that she was an actor beyond compare. I consider it a great
honour in my life that I was able to act alongside the Silk Smitha who awed us
all. I don’t know how many people will believe that this star who wowed us with
her body also possessed a generous, loving heart. When I heard the news that
that life was no more, I was stunned speechless. Such a great actress, someone
who knew how to live so well. But she must have experienced something that none
of us could understand. Perhaps she did not want to share her feelings with
anyone. My mind still finds it difficult to accept that she committed suicide. I
continue to remember her with devotion. Because my admiration for her acting
abilities and her beautiful form will never die. I pray that no other actor will
go through what she did.
Smitha’s suicide continues to remain an enigma. Her end
came at a time when she was reigning at the pinnacle of her fame. The fact that
the most skilled gossips have been unable to detect whether it was the
disappointment of a lost love, or the frostiness of family relationships, or
some other reason that underlay that death, adds to the suspicion. The mystery
that surrounds the circumstances of tragedies of other actors like the
national-award-winning Shoba and Vijayasree who sought refuge in suicide is
echoed in Silk Smitha’s case.
Dearest artiste, you were a springtime.
I would never claim that alcohol is a great thing. And I never force anyone to drink. But I consume alcohol, in the company of men and women. I am a chain smoker. And I forget myself in the pleasure of these pastimes.
I tasted alcohol at a very young age. My father, Chand Basha, would bring home beer for his own consumption. When he poured a drink, I would sidle up to him and ask him for some. My father would resist at first. But I would cry, and beg for some beer, and make a nuisance of myself. My hapless father would then pour some beer into a little glass. I would gulp it down and lick my lips carefully, and this made my father guffaw. He then began to give me beer regularly. The quantity went up from half a glass to a whole glass.
After I began acting in television serials, I once requested the producer, Mohanraj, to get me beer. He was like a father to me. He only ever addressed me as “Daughter”. So when I asked him for beer, he glared at me. However, once the shooting was done, he ensured that beer was reached to me.
Beer was the beginning. I would drink beer, grow sleepy, and fall into a slumber. By and by, I left beer behind, and began to experience the different flavours of alcohol. Now I drink in the company of men and women. I don’t like to drink during the day. It is at night that I like to tipple.
For drinking, I prefer the company of women to that of men. The comfort of drinking with women is not something one gets while drinking with men. And with men, the experience often turns unpleasant. Sometimes, I drink in the company of men who are close friends. But once we start drinking together, friendships get destroyed.
This is because they first become friends with me expressing courtesy and affection. However, no sooner do they down the first peg in my company than they assume the roles of advisors. By the third peg, they begin to assess my acting abilities and move on to discuss my bodily attractions. I have seen their eyes peck hungrily at my body with no compunction. As they finish the fourth peg, they stand up and say, I’ll be back after a pee. When they get back from the bathroom, they make sure that they sit down again – next to me.
It’s fun to watch them stand up to go the bathroom. They stand up and fix their gazes on me. They throw a lustful smile at my face. They adjust their bodies as if to tell me that this is a virile body, take a good look at it. They clutch their waistbands and hitch up their pants and tell me they’ll be back in a moment.
The visit to the bathroom is a prelude to manoeuvring themselves into a position by my side. At first, I did not recognise this ploy. It’s only when they get back from their pee that one sees the real nature of a man. The beast in him claws its way out. His craving to touch and caress me, particularly my fleshy parts, becomes apparent. Their banter takes on a lewd bent. A few pretend to be sleepy. A clear invitation to me to enter their bedrooms.
I invite a man to drink with me in friendship. But he
misunderstands this. I later hear that he boasts to his friends that Shakeela
invited him out of her hunger for his body. I feel sorrow that he has branded my
amity as a hankering for flesh.
Some of my more ‘decent’ men friends try to be less obvious. What they do is
hang around even after the party is clearly over. The poor things are under the
delusion that once I’m a little high, I will invite them into my bedroom. So
many scenes such as these…
It was after a few such experiences that I began to understand that the visit to
the bathroom after the fourth peg was an excuse to come and sit by me. After
this, the moment my men friends expressed an urge to pee, I would bring the
party to an end. I found such scheming much more indecent than an open
expression of desire for me or my body. Even more saddening was their belief
that if they could only get me drunk, they could get me to do their bidding.
Men use flattery and extravagant baits to invite me to their bedrooms. Or try to
stroke certain parts of my body to convey the same message. And right there, my
friendship with them comes to an abrupt end. This is the reason why I no longer
drink with men I feel any affection for. Why would one seek out enmity with
anyone?
I always find drinking with women companions enjoyable. In their company, it is
possible to slip away into a fantasy world. I start drinking with my women
friends and we quickly move on to music and laughter. I prefer to drink in
places marked by natural beauty, rather than in hotels. Secluded areas where it
is possible to laugh and sing out loud. At such times, I can hug my women
friends. Or dance with them. With no problems. If you hug a man so joyously, the
movements of his hands will quickly douse any joy. I might hug him merely in the
joy of the moment. But as the fire of lust spreads through his veins, his hands
stray on my body and he tries to sneak in a feel of my breasts if he can manage
it.
Some ask me what kind of alcohol I like. I don’t tell them what kinds of alcohol
I like and how I like to drink it. Why do others need to know this information?
This is useless talk that folks engage in because they don’t have other matters
to attend to. Yet others want to know how many pegs I drink. Though I itch to
ask what business is it of yours how much I drink, you lout, I try and control
myself and remain courteous. One peg short of a half- bottle is what suits me.
After that I get high. However, sometimes my careful calculations get upset. But
then I quickly fall asleep.
In spite of all their shortcomings, it is men that I tend to trust. Women are
not to be trusted. It is difficult to detect their envy. Women have betrayed me
more than men have. I have never come to grief because of the antics that men
display in their drinking bouts. Men are satisfied with talk laced with double
entendres and displays of sringara. Once they get high, they try to get matters
rolling towards sex, but don’t actually attempt to assault you.
Women appear to be perfect companions. But eventually, they manage to unload all
the blame on you, and pretend to be saints themselves. If they need to, they
have no qualms about betraying you.
Cigarettes came into my life the way alcohol did. I once went to see Pooja Bedi
shoot. I find her very beautiful. When I went to see her, she was relaxing in a
chair, smoking a cigarette, looking very elegant. Anyone who sees this actor
smoking will be tempted to give it a try. I began to imitate Pooja Bedi now and
then. And then smoking became a habit. Today, I probably smoke more than she
does.
But now I am uneasy. And it is my unease that has caused my smoking and drinking
to increase. Sometimes I think of liquor as a solace. But this is only my
opinion. Whatever gives us solace is important, if only for that moment when it
does.
Although I say all this, I must make one thing very clear. Once I don my make
up, I don’t smoke. I’ve never appeared before the camera after a drink. But
alcohol keeps me company at night. Life flows forward in this manner. Different
kinds of people, friends, smoking, drinking, acting…
If someone seriously questions me about whether I have deeply thought about my
life, I’d have to confess that I haven’t. It’s true – I’ve never seriously
thought about myself. I am a piece of driftwood, going with the flow. I bob
gently or swirl furiously depending on the pace of the current of life. Where do
I have the time or the peace to think about myself?
Miracles represent freedom from fear. “Atoning” means “undoing.” The undoing of fear is an essential part of the atonement value of miracles. To receive the entire Peace of Mind excerpt, order this book
Almost all cat foods from a grocery store are not properly balanced for any type of cat. Feeding a cheap filler filled foods will lead to bones being brittle bones that can break easily. These cheap foods have been linked to diarrhea, weight loss Savannah Kittens For Sale Near Me Cheap In USA CANADA EUROPE AUSTRALIA DUBAI Temperament is outstanding when properly socialized. The feline version of a dog. Ideal companions for owners who want to avoid extra canine requirements. Actively seeking social interaction. They are given to pouting if left out