Short Essay on the Person I Like The Most

Of all the persons I know, I like best Mr. Kunj Lai. He is my next door neighbour. He is
about fifty-five and is working as an accountant in the local State Bank of India. I
have known him for the last fifteen years.
He is a man of a very cool and sweet temperament. I have never seen him angry.
He presents a smiling face to everybody. He knows how to smile his way into the
heart of everybody. He smiles and whistles under all difficulties.
He is as patient as a woman and as cheerful as a child. He is always calm and quiet.
He seldom allows anything to disturb his peace of mind. He has an equally good and
virtuous wife. There is perfect harmony in the house.
He has very pleasing habits. He is respectful, polite and courteous to all. He avoids
picking up a quarrel with anybody. He turned away another man's wrath with a
smile and a joke. He is very sociable and is full of wit and humour. Above all, he is
most unselfish and sincere. These qualities of head and heart have endeared him to
all who have anything to do with him.
He is fully conscious of his duties and rights. He worries for his duties more than for
his rights. He is public spirited and puts the country and the people above self. He is
conscious of the debt he owes to society. He gives to society in the same measure
as he receives from it.
He refrains from doing harm to others in any shape or form. He is law-abiding. He is
pure in thought, word and deed. His actions are in keeping with his words. He never
goes back upon his word. He is a gentleman par excellence.
He regards physical fitness as a moral duty. He keeps himself in perfect health to be
of service to his country. He is a slave to duty and not a slave of his passions. Last
but not the least, he is true to his own self. He is always guided by moral
considerations.
I make every effort to follow in his footsteps. I look upon him as my mentor and
friend, philosopher and guide.

We value and admire some people such as parents, teachers, friends, professors
and movie stars who influence our life for their special characteristics. For me, my
mom is the person I admire most. In every aspect of my life she played an
important role not only as a mother but also as a good friend and teacher.
These above mentioned properties has made my mom so special for me . She does
not have much education, but in my view she is far more knowledgeable than a
teacher in my life.

My Father
This essay is about how a perfect father looks like for me.
People could say that the perfect father does not exist, I actually do not know if that
is true, but what I surely know is that my father is perfect for me: Everything in my
father is special; the way he dresses, the way he moves, the way he behave, the
way he speaks etc. Sometimes, I just think that it could be great, if I could be a petit
percent of what he is. But lets start to describe the way that my father looks like.
At first sight, you could see that his clothes are classy and formal; however, if you
know him as I do, you could notice that he dresses all kind of clothes; tight-fitting,
dark clear, cheap, expensive, soft, formal, informal, sportive. All his clothes are
different, and I like them, but being honest, there is a jacket that I do not like at all,
it is heavy, brow and in my opinion a little bit oldie. His clothes fit well with the way
he looks, my father is tall and thin, he always has his hair cut short, and he is greyhaired. In other words my dads appearance is simply unique.
Moving to his appearance, I could say that the way he acts and moves is an
important part of his personality. For example soothing particular of him is that he
tends to walk very quickly, this may be the reason about why he is that thin, he
walks a lot everywhere, and I frequently believe that he does not walk, he jogs!
Taking about the way he eats, he has a particular way to twist his tortilla and to
make some kind of cone, then he chews it without noise, he loves to eat and every
time that I eat with him, I wish I could enjoy my food as he does. When he eats, he
tends not to speak; however, when he speaks is another story. When he speaks is
easy to notice his expressions, because he always frowns; when he has doubts, he
always smiles when he is happy, and he always is serious when he is worried. His
expressions are something that makes even more interesting to listen to him.
He is the kind of person that is interesting to listen. I could say that when I listen to
him I can learn something. Every time that I want to have an honest opinion, I
always go with my father, because he gives me his opinion from the bottom of his
heart. In the other hand when he needs to tell me something, he waits the perfect
time to tell me, somewhere where it is calm and relaxed. And if it is something bad;
he always tries to give me his advice, when he gives me some advice, it is
important for me because I can feel the support that everyone needs, when my
father gives me his support, I can feel confident and safe
My father is the kind of person that does not show his feelings a lot. But I could say
that he can be though; however, when his with me it is not like that at all, he might
not kiss and jug me every single day, but when he does, it is what I consider the
most sincere actions that someone can ask for. When e hugs me, I feel warm and
loved, his hard skin becomes a soft thing. To conclude, some people may think that
this essay is a little bit too cheesy, and maybe it is, but I do not care because there

was not someone else that I wanted to describe like this. I have the wonderful
opportunity to have this awesome father.

Over the years that I knew her, I gained an uncommon respect for the librarian at
our high school. In one word she could be described as "eccentric", but only
because she refused to accept the stereotypical notion of what the term
"librarian" had come to mean. The student
s thought she was just plain weird, but
those who took the time to know her
realized she was a person searching for a
comfortable identity.
At first glance, she could indeed be a
formidable figure to behold. Her hair was
most often in disarray simply as a resu
lt of her compulsion to go everywhere in
tenth speed. Not only was her gait a marv
el, but her purpose was also a wonder.
She always gave one the impression she
had a mission, and,
at that express
moment, had been called forth to duty.
When classes would commence, she
would proudly stride off to her room, as
if a group of novice missionaries awaited
her divine intervention.
Her habit of dress, however, was not in
the least missionary-like. In fact, the
students used to kid her about getting a summ
er job as a highway flagman. The

brighter the colors, the more she became

entranced by their iridescence. As she
flashed through the library,
students became hushed as
if a bolt of lightning had
struck. In the morning, her emerald
greens and hot pinks were eye-openers for
the rest of us when she walk
ed through the staf
f room door.
Characteristically, her first words were
a singsongy "Good Morning!" whereupon
everyone would look up waiting fo
r the next outpouring. She had an
unconscionable taste for polysyllabic words the more syllables the better. She
used them with such flair, they looked
good on her; and we could only smile, nod
and try to make a witty rejoinder. Too
often, we would be unfamiliar with the
words, so she would again march off to another venue with the assurance that
she had stymied the lot of us.
Though she spoke precisely, as you might
expect of one in her position, her
voice was always at peak volume. A favourite response of the librarians aide
was, "You shrieked, madame?" In fact, students could audit her classes in the
hallways, or on a clear day, even in the lunchroom.
Similarly, her other ways did not resemb
le those of a librarian. She was easily
flustered not at all cool and compos
ed like some of her predecessors. One

particular day nearing the Christmas holiday, a very well-established physics

teacher on staff kissed her fu
ll on the lips in front of
almost all her colleagues.
She went into a rage and made it clear
that another such liberty would be
inexcusable. Later that day, some mi
schievous students, who had gained access
to the crawl space above the library, lowered a rubber chicken into her office,
suspended a rope decorated with mistletoe.
By the end of t
he day, her patience
was severely tried and so it was no surprise to any of us when she polkaed too
exuberantly at the staff par
ty and knocked over the Christmas tree. What would
have been embarrassing for many others was
often summarily dealt with by "The
Happy Booker," the pseudonym she was not unhappy to have bestowed upon
her.
When our colorful librarian moved away
to a new lifestyle, a chic hairdo and
trendy clothes, we felt cheated when a very
acceptable, but normal lady came to
take her place. Who would wake us up
every morning with the word for the day?
Whose voice would be ringing through the ha
lls even after the last bell had rung?
Would she realize she had taken a part of
us away with her? Most importantly,
would she realize the legacy she left behind?

My mother is the most confusing, weird, insane, and strangest person i know; she is
also the most beautiful, caring, loving, and strongest figure in my life. She loves
learning, and has been supportive in my diseases. She has taught me so many
things about a natural lifestyles that I keep in mind day to day. I have many
inspirational people that surround me, but my mothers crazy, creative, and
supporting personality has made her my favorite person in
the world.

Just sitting with her brings me comfort. She smells of sweet coconut and her skin is
warm and soft like soft cashmere. I love her laugh, and how her eyes shine
optimistically and full of life. She has a way of making those crazy and stressful
days melt away and leaves your soul content. Even when others speak ill of her, I
never hear her returning such words. Right now she is miles away, yet I call her and
her voice is as warm as her embrace. There is people in this world who deserve an
award, and she is one of them. The way she has grown in the past few years
astounds me. I can see it in her actions that she is stronger than i have ever seen
her, and each time i see her she looks more beautiful than she did before.

She is no ordinary woman. She dances around the house with the grace of a fish out
of water, and she gets away with it. She remembers only parts of songs and movies,
I found it irritating; but now all I want is to hear her sing her fragmented songs and
dance all the time. My favorite memory of her is playing card games, we would play
using weird accents that must be a cross between Russian, and Icelandic. Im not
sure anyone else could understand us, and frankly I am pretty sure someone would
send us to Essandale if they were to see us. Particularly when we cooked a meal
together and turned on the music, then the magic would really happen. Those are
the memories I hold dear.I applaud my mother for her strength. My family tells me
that I am like her, and if I am anything like her than I would not complain. Having a
child at 18 can't be easy, growing up I know she always tried her hardest to be
thebest mother she could be. Having a child with 3 diseases must have taken a
pretty big toll on her, yet she learned all she could about them and provided the
supportive lifestyle I needed to not let these diseases take control of me. She
always tries to make the best out of a bad situation, and she has known her fare
share of that. Even with battles of her own she would wipe her tears away and take
away my sorrows.

She has taught me so much, one thing I appreciate the most is her interest in
natural products. Her interest has also brought a great many memories that I will

never forget. She was starting to get into natural shampoo products,I believe she
tried washing her hair with eggs and rinsing it with baking soda. She came out with
her hair looking like Frankenstein, it really did feel like wire. She even tried to put oil
in it to fix it, it made no difference. My mom has tried so many things, although
many of her attempts did not work as planned she never stopped. Among one of
her attempts was a body wash, it ended up as a lumpy concoction that looked that
like glue and tapioca beads. She went on to create my favorite rejuvenating body
wash with fresh mint and sweet thyme, and every time I smell it think of her. She
has so many books on natural home remedies, that I am very thankful for. But the
way she studies for hours and keeps going
is truly epic, she is always eager to learn more and is very determined.

Through life we learn lessons, most of them are through people we meet and
situations we endeavour. I think its the small things learned that make the
difference in life. I learned so many things from her, and together they have made
me who I am today. She may not be the most patient at times, but she has been
very patient with me. My mother is my favorite person. They say a parents love just
happens, I believe different. She has carved herself into my heart with a silken
blade. Love and Respect cannot just be forced upon a person, but is a process like
any relationship that is done with patience, acceptance, and frustration. I know I will
be successful in my life, because of her. I have learned never to give up, even when
the world is against you. Because of her compassion and forgiveness , I have come
to know a lust for life and to feel content even when the worlds a blur.

My favourite person my Grandfather

There were seven of us grandchildren, and another three, but they live too far away
to come often. My grandfather was always so very pleased to see us. His house was
in the middle of the forest, a few miles from a small town called Mierlo. Grandfather
was a tall man, he always wore a hat, as he was bald and he thought maybe we had
not noticed him being bald, as he was wearing his hat also inside the house.
In the morning he came down and did his moustache. He had these long
moustaches, that reached way past his mouth. Every morning he lovingly curled the
ends over with a pair of hot plyers, which he heated on the wood stove. You could
hear his moustaches crackle by the heat.
We loved him, he seemed a happy man and laughed a lot. He took us for walks, and
told us stories. One of his stories was in the war time; how he went swimming in the
river. As he looked down in the water he saw these German soldiers lying on the
bottom of the river.. There were four of them and they had their eyes open.
Years later, we found out he couldnt even swim.
At night time, as we kids were noisy waiting for our food, grandfather would sit in
his easy chair and play his recorder, loud and tunelessly. I think he did that so he
wouldnt hear our noise.
In the mornings hed take us to the local tip in the sand dunes, and we all searched
for things he could use, such as old cans, cups, vases, and old lightbulbs. I think he
could use anything, really.
In the afternoon, hed sit at his little table in the sun and work with a sand and
concrete mixture covering, with endless care, an old bottle with the mixture, and
producing a piece of Art, with a rose on the one side and the head of a small devil
on the other. Underneath, hed write a few words of Latin and the date, 15 BC. He
had a whole garage with these masterpieces.
Once a week he went to the pub and sold his bottle to anyone whod have it, for five
dollars. His bottles went like hotcakes.