There was a bird that she was very tall, she would have been tickling around here. Sometimes this twig never sticks on that twig. But that bird was a habit that he used to accompany him with good or bad stones in a box in his hand, and often took the stones out of the bundle and saw the good stones Looking back, I was happy to remember the good times in the past. It would be sad to see bad roads and do it everyday. By collecting daily stones his bottle was becoming increasingly heavy day by day. After a few days, it began to trouble with flying bogies. But he could not understand why he could not rise.
Some time passed, and it was becoming heavy. Now it was also difficult to walk on the ground. And one day it came that he could not arrange food for himself and died under the burden of his own stones.

Moral Of the Story -
Friends are with us when we keep the bottle of old bottles with us. Instead of enjoying the present, they are thinking of the past. Enjoy this moment.