After the accident, Ravi’s plans for expansion were on hold.

As he came home each day, he would bring her a flower.

“How was your day?” he would ask. 

“Are you doing well?” he would ask.

“This is for you, my love,” he would say, as he handed her a beautiful flower.

“Why only one flower?“ she asked jokingly, one day.

“You used to buy me bundles of flowers.  Has your love for me decreased?” she asked.

After thinking it over a little bit, Ravi replied, “No, my love for you has increased.”

They both knew that what Ravi was saying was somehow true.  Gone were the days of effervescence and grand emotionalism.  They were replaced by a deeper love.  That love was always there, but it was hiding. 

 Ravi’s plans for expansion were on hold.  He took more interest in Juhi’s work, and often visited the school.  Ravi was fascinated by the way Juhi worked with the children, and the way she taught them to learn to their fullest capacity possible. 

 For the first time, Ravi saw the love she portrayed with the children, and he was in great awe.  He remembered how Juhi encouraged him through the hard times, made delicious foods to distract him from his worries, and kept on encouraging him, telling him that everything would be fine.  She seemed to have no less love for her children than she had for Ravi.  She exhibited the same gentleness, optimism, and was a source of encouragement and inspiration. 

Ravi sat in on one of their teacher meetings where they discussed the progress of the various students, the topics that they would like to teach next, and the manner in which they would regroup the children to maximize their educational experience.  Ravi was moved.  He had no idea how passionately and selflessly Juhi and the other teachers dedicated themselves to these children.

 “I thought I was important, “ Ravi said.

“You are,” said Juhi, “Because of you, so many people are employed.”

“Yes, I guess that’s true,” he reasoned.

“But the world needs more Juhi’s than Ravi’s,” he said.

“People can always find some other place to buy a car if I am not in business, and my employees would be working for other dealers whose demand I offset.  But Juhi, it’s not like that with your work.  You are really doing something important.  The world needs more Juhi’s not Ravi’s,” he stated..

“Don’t scare me, Ravi!,” panicked Juhi.

“No, Juhi, I don’t mean it that way.  I thought I wanted to do something important.  When I found success in business, I thought I was doing something important.  But all along, it was really you that was doing something truly important.”

  “Then find something else that you think is important, “ said Juhi.

And that’s exactly what he did. 

With Juhi’s help, Ravi opened up a shelter for battered women, promoted their education, and helped them become financially independent.  He opened a clinic, and granted medications for those who couldn’t afford it.  He offered free computer training courses for youngsters who wanted to learn, but had no ability to pay for classes.

The love and energy that he felt while working with people through the creation of  humanitarian projects was far more rewarding than the endless unquenchable thirst for greater wealth, power, and sense of self-importance through business expansion.  Nothing made Ravi feel quite as satisfied as receiving the warm love and thanks of the many people that he helped.

He learned to sing.  He learned to dance.  He learned to tell jokes and stories.  After all, this was important too--to wipe a tear, to make someone smile, and to raise the spirits.