Wonderful story...read till the end (Kindly dont avoid)

An wonderful story i got through the chain of mails... I think we all have something to learn form this....

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Monica married Hitesh this day. At the end of the wedding party,

Monica's mother gave her a newly opened bank saving passbook.

With Rs.1000 deposit amount.

Mother: 'Monica, take this passbook. Keep it as a record of your marriage

life. When there's something happy and memorable happened in your new

life, put some money in. Write down what it's about next to the line. The

more memorable the event is, the more money you can put in. I've done the

first one for you today. Do the others with Hitesh.When you look back

after years, you can know how much happiness you've had.'

Monica shared this with Hitesh when getting home. They both thought it

was a great idea and were anxious to know when the second deposit can be

made.

This was what they did after certain time:

- 7 Feb: Rs.100, first birthday celebration for Hitesh after marriage

- 1 Mar: Rs.300, salary raise for Monica

- 20 Mar: Rs.200, vacation trip to Bali

- 15 Apr: Rs.2000, Monica got pregnant

- 1 Jun: Rs.1000, Hitesh got promoted

..... and so on...

However, after years, they started fighting and arguing for trivial

things.They didn't talk much. They regretted that they had married the

most nasty people in the world.... no more love...Kind of typical

nowadays, huh?

One day Monica talked to her Mother:

'Mom, we can't stand it anymore. We agree to divorce. I can't imagine how

I decided to marry this guy!!!'

Mother: 'Sure, girl, that's no big deal. Just do whatever you want if you

really can't stand it. But before that, do one thing first. Remember the

saving passbook I gave you on your wedding day? Take out all money and

spend it first. You shouldn't keep any record of such a poor marriage.'

Monica thought it was true. So she went to the bank, waiting at the queue

and planning to cancel the account.

While she was waiting, she took a look at the passbook record. She looked,

and looked, and looked. Then the memory of all the previous joy and

happiness just came up her mind. Her eyes were then filled with tears. She

left and went home.

When she was home, she handed the passbook to Hitesh, asked him to spend

the money before getting divorce.

The next day, Hitesh gave the passbook back to Monica. She found a new

deposit of Rs.5000. And a line next to the record: 'This is the day I

notice how much I've loved you thru out all these years. How much happiness

you've brought me.'

They hugged and cried, putting the passbook back to the safe.

Do you know how much money they had saved when they retired? I did not

ask.I believe the money did not matter any more after they had gone thru

all the good years in their life.

"When you fall, in any way,

Don't see the place where you fell, Instead see the place from where you

slipped.

Life is about correcting mistakes!"

FW: Leaf's Departure - Either Wind's Pursuit or Tree didn't ask to stay?

Tree
People call me "Tree".
I had dated 5 girls when I was in Pre-U. There is one girl who I love a lot but never dared to go after. She didn't have a pretty face, good figure or an outstanding charm. She was just a very ordinary girl. I liked her. I really liked her. I liked her innocence, her frankness, her intelligence and her fragility. Reason for not going after her was that I felt somebody so ordinary like her was not a good match for me. I was also afraid that after we were together all the feelings would vanish. I was also afraid other's gossip would hurt her.
I felt that if she were my girl, she'd be mine ultimately & I didn't have to give up everything just for her. The last reason, made her accompanying me for 3 years. She watched me chase other girls, and I have made her heart cry for 3 years. She was a good actor, and me a demanding director. When I kissed my second girlfriend, she bumped into us. She was embarrassed but smiled & said, "Go on!" before running off. The next day, her eyes were swollen like a walnut. I did not want to know what caused her to cry. Later that day, I returned from soccer training to get something & watched her cry in the classroom for an hour or so. My fourth girlfriend did not like her. There was once when both of them quarreled. I know that based on her character she is not the type that will start the quarrel. However, I still sided my girlfriend. I shouted at her & ignored her feelings and walked off with my girlfriend. The next day, she was laughing & joking with me like nothing happened. I know she was hurt but she did not know deep down inside I was hurt too.
When I broke up with my fifth girlfriend, I asked her out. Later that day, I told her I had something to tell her. I told her about my break up. Coincidentally, she has something to tell me too, about her getting together. I knew who the person was. His pursuit for her had been the talk of the School. I did not show her my heartache, just smiles & best wishes. Once I reached home, I could not breathe. Tears rolled & I broke down. How many times have I seen her cry for the man who did not acknowledge her presence?
During graduation, I read a SMS in my hp. It said, "Leaf's departure is because of Wind's pursuit. Or because Tree didn't ask her to stay"

Leaf
People call me Leaf.
During the 3 years of Pre-U, I was on very close terms with a guy as buddy kind. However, when he had his first girlfriend, I learnt a feeling I never should have learnt - Jealousy. Sourness to the extreme limit. They were only together for 2 months. When they broke up, I hid my happiness. But after a month, he got together with another girl.
I liked him & I know he liked me. But why won't he pursue me? Since he loves me why he didn't he make the first move? Whenever he had a new girlfriend, my heart would hurt. After some time, I began to suspect that this was one-sided love. If he didn't like me, why did he treat me so well? It's beyond what you will normally do for a friend. I know his likes, his habits. But his feelings towards me I can never figure out. You can't expect me a girl, to ask him. Despite that, I still wanted to be by his side. Care for him, accompany him, and love him. Hoping that one day, he will come to love me. Because of this, I waited for him. Sometimes, I wondered if I should continue waiting. The pain, the dilemma accompanied me for 3 years.
At the end of my 3rd year, a junior pursues me. Everyday he pursues me. He's like the cool & gentle wind, trying to blow off a leaf from a tree. In the end, I realized that I wanted to give this wind a small footing in my heart. I know the wind will bring the leaf to a better land. Finally, leaf left the tree, but the tree only smiled & didn't ask me to stay.
Leaf's departure is because of Wind's pursuit. Or cause Tree didn't ask her to stay.

Wind
Because I like a girl called leaf. Because she's so dependent on tree, so I have to be a gust wind. A wind that will blow her away. When I first met her, it was 1 month after I was transferred to this new school. I saw a petite person look ing at my seniors & me playing soccer. During ECA time, she will always be sitting there. Be it alone or with her friends, looking at him. When he talks with girls, there's jealousy in her eyes. When he looked at her, there's a smile in her eyes. Looking at her became my habit. Just like, she likes to look at him.
One day, she didn't appear. I felt something missing. I can't explain the feeling except it's a kind of uneasiness. The senior was also not there as well. I went to their classroom, hid outside and saw my senior scolding her. Tears were in her eyes while he left. The next day, I saw her at her usual place, looking at him. I walked over and smiled to her. Took out a note & gave to her. She was surprised. She looked at me, smiled & accepts the note. The next day, she appeared & passes me a note and left.
It read, "Leaf's heart is too heavy and wind couldn't blow her away."
"It's not that leaf heart is too heavy. It because leaf never want to leave tree." I replied her note with this statement and slowly she started to talk to me & accept my presents & phone calls. I know that the person she loves is not me. But I have this perseverance that one day I will make her like me. Within 4 months, I have declared my love for her no less than 20 times. Every time, she will divert away from the topic. But I never give up. If I decide I want her to be mine, I will definitely use all means to win her over. I can't remember how many times I have declared my love to her. Although I know, she will try to divert but I still bear a small ray of hope.
Hoping that she will agree to be my girlfriend. I didn't hear any reply from her over the phone. I asked, "What are you doing? How come you didn't want to reply?" She said, "I'm nodding my head". "Ah?" I could n't believe my ears. "I'm nodding my head" She replied loudly. I hang up the phone, quickly changed and took a taxi and rush to her place & press her doorbell. During the moment when she opens the door, I hugged her tightly.
Leaf departure is because of Wind pursuit. Or because Tree didn't ask her to stay...

Moral
In love, we win very rarely, but when love is true, even if you lose, you still win just for having the tingle of loving someone more than you love yourself. There comes a time when we stop loving someone, not because that person has stopped loving us but because we have found out that, they'd be happier if we let go....
Why do we close our eyes when we sleep? When we cry? When we imagine? When we kiss? This is because THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THINGS IN THE WORLD ARE UNSEEN.
There are things that we never want to let go of, people we never want to leave behind, but keep in mind that letting go isn't the end of the world. It's the beginning of a new life. Happiness lies for those who cry those who hurt, those who have searched and those who have tried. For only they can appreciate the importance of the people who have touched our lives.
A great love? It's when you shed tears and still you care for them, it's when they ignore you and still you long for them. It's when they begin to love another and yet you smile and say, "I'm happy for you." If love fails, set yourself free, let your heart spread its wings and fly again. Remember you may find love and lose it, but when love dies, you never have to die with it.
The strongest people are not those who always win but those who stand back up when they fall. Somehow, along the course of life, you learn about yourself and realize that there should never be regrets, only a lifelong appreciation of the choices you've made. Loving is not how you forget but how you forgive, not how you listen but how you understand, not what you see but how you feel, and not how you let go but how you hold on.
It's more dangerous to weep inwardly rather than outwardly. Outward tears can be wiped away while secret tears scar forever...

It's best to wait for the one you want than settle for one that's available.

It's best to wait for the right one because life is too short to waste on just someone.

Philosophical Conundrums

Philosophical Conundrums of our Time
No.4: The Seven Ages of Man

Shakespeare would have us believe that the Seven Ages of Man go something like this: infancy (mewling and puking); boyhood (whining and shining); lover (sighing); soldier (jealous, with a beard); justice (fat and wise); pantaloon (spindly spec-wearer); second childishness (oblivious to everything).

Well, you can’t say that Shakespeare is too complimentary about his sex, but that’s fair enough, really. However, seeing as this was written a good 400 years ago now, we couldn’t help thinking that it was time for a bit of an update. But we discovered, while some parts fall short of defining what is modern-day man, others were still eerily accurate. So here goes…

Infancy
A formative time for the male race. While Shakespeare’s brat is nurtured by a nurse, who probably had several other brats to look after too, modern-day man is breast-fed, adored and spoilt by his mother, leading to a life-long dependence on the woman and/or fascination with large breasts, rather than some scrotty offerings that have fed half the village.

Boyhood
Whining, shining, creeping like a snail unwillingly to school? Sounds reasonable.

Lover
Blimey. Just how early did they get it on in Shakespeare’s time? Seems a bit of a leap here. For his “lover”, read our spotty adolescent. And while old Will might have been penning a few romantic lovenotes or two, this generation of teenage lovers are rather to be found scrawling “Debbie takes it up the arse” behind the bike sheds. And as for the eyebrow bit – well, your average 15-year-old will probably be aiming a little lower…

Soldier
Leaving aside the few thousand men that actually do join the army aged 18, the majority of men have to direct their aggressive, man-killing urges elsewhere. Apart from that, Shakespeare’s description is pretty accurate. Full of strange oaths? Just your average football fan. Bearded like the pard? Student. Jealous in honour and quick in quarrel? Punch-up over mate’s girlfriend. Seeking the bubble reputation, Even in the cannon’s mouth? Okay, it’s a while since I did English A Level, but I’d say this pretty much equates to that strange habit small blokes have of picking on the tallest guy in the pub.

Justice
Seeing as people tended to kark it a bit earlier in Shakespeare’s day, this description surely matches today’s middle-youth. So, yes, we have the fat belly, from one too many lagers rather than, perhaps, too many large chickens, and as for the wise saws, well, blokes of a certain age (mid-thirties up) do tend to bang on a bit and always think they’re right. Sadly, Will’s man does seem a bit more mature than today’s middle-youthers, however – the regression to second childishness has already begun, with an obsession with gadget, fast cars and doling out “justice” via a computer game.

Pantaloon
Looks a bit odd at first sight, but then we find that a Pantaloon, instead of being a type of trouser, is actually an “old wealthy suitor”. Rich, retired and mean and miserly, the pantaloon had a penchant for younger women, despite the fact, as we can see from Shakespeare’s original, he had specs, love-handles, and was a bit spindly. Any of your dad’s lecherous mates, then.

Second childishness
Shakespeare’s man ends up blind, deaf and oblivious to everything. Except themselves, we might add.

Terrifying Resume

Name: Pakya Bhai Supariwala

Objective:
To obtain a challenging position as a Crime Implementation Analyst (CIA)

Education:
- B.S. (Crime Technology) Tihar Jail, India, August 1994
- M.S. (Criminal Sciences) Virginia Prison for International Smugglers and the Unlawful Activists(VPISUA) , August 1996.

Thesis:
"On escaping from high security prisons like Alcatraz with minimal efforts"
Coursework:
Cop Psychology, Plastic Explosives Technology, Bomb Controls and Timer
Device Theory, International Smuggling and Drug Trafficking, Object Oriented Crime Design

Work Experience:
- Research Assistant, LTTE Labs, Jaffna, Aug 1990 - Aug 1991
- Worked on the prestigious Belt Bomb project
- Developed instant death cyanide capsules in orange, strawberry; and mint flavors (Patent No. 007,13,666)


Summer Internship:
Dawood Ibrahim and Haji Mastan Associates, Bombay, June1987 - July1990
- Worked as a hitman and was responsible for many supari style killings
- Participated in election rigging in Bihar and made hafta Collections
Honors and Achievements:
- Won 1980 Gabbar Singh Memorial Award (given to child prodigies in crime)
- Member, IPKF (Indian Professional Killers Forum) student chapter
- Performer of the year in 2004 General Elections in Bihar and U.P.
- Strong hold on Govt. and NGOs.
- Specialized in extortion, illegal construction business and fake academic degree supply.

References:
- Dr. Charles Sobhraj, Full Time Prof., Tihar Jail, New Delhi
- Dr. Chandra Swamy, Visiting Faculty Tihar Jail, New Delhi
- Dr. Dawood Ibrahim, Overseas Projects Manager, Dubai

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Heights of Communication Gap- Wonderfull Joke....... !

Ha ha ha...

Mr. Verma comes home one night, and his wife throws her arms around his neck: "I have great news: I'm a month overdue. I think we're going to have a baby! The doctor gave me a test today, but until we find out for sure, we can't tell anybody."

The next day, Mrs.Verma receives a telephone call from AEC (Ahmedabad Electric Company) because the electricity bill has not been paid.
"Am I speaking to Mrs.Verma?"
"Yes...... speaking"
AEC guy, "You're a month overdue, you know!"
"How do YOU know?" stammers the young woman.
"Well, ma'am, it's in our files!" says the AEC guy.
"What are you saying? It's in your files...... HOW?????"
"Yes ... We have a system of finding out who's overdue"
"GOD!!!!!!......... This is too much.........."
"Madam, I am sorry...... I am following orders.... I have to inform you are overdue"
"I know that. Let me talk to my husband about this tonight. .... he will speak to your company tomorrow "

That night, she tells her husband about the call, and he, mad as a bull, rushes to AEC office the next day morning.

"What's going on? You have it on file that my wife is a month overdue?
What business is that of yours?" the husband shouts.
"Just calm down," says the lady at the reception at AEC, "it's nothing serious. All you have to do is pay us."
"PAY you? and if I refuse?"
"Well, in that case, sir, we'd have no option but to cut yours off."
"And what would my wife do then?" the husband asks.
"I don't know. I guess she'd have to use a CANDLE."

A 2 minute story.............

Very emotive conversation....

. Just Five More Minutes .

While at the park one day, a woman sat down next to a man on a bench near a playground. "That's my son over there," she said, pointing to a little boy in a red sweater who was gliding down the slide. "He's a fine looking boy" the man said. "That's my daughter on the bike in the white dress." Then, looking at his watch, he called to his daughter. "What do you say we go, Melissa?" Melissa pleaded, "Just five more minutes, Dad. Please? Just five more minutes." The man nodded and Melissa continued to ride her bike to her heart's content. Minutes passed and the father stood and called again to his daughter. "Time to go now?" Again Melissa pleaded, "Five more minutes, Dad. Just five more minutes." The man smiled and said, "OK." "My, you certainly are a patient father," the woman responded. The man smiled and then said, "Her older brother Tommy was killed by a drunk driver last year while he was riding his bike near here. I never spent much time with Tommy and now I'd give anything for just five more minutes with him. I've vowed not to make the same mistake with Melissa. She thinks she has five more minutes to ride her bike. The truth is, I get Five more minutes to watch her play." Life is all about making priorities, what are your priorities????????????????? Give someone you love 5 more minutes of your time today! ! ! ! ! . Just Five More Minutes .

Corporate Life....

Have you heard the story of “The Washer man and the Foolish Donkey”?

To refresh your memory, and for the benefit of those who have not grown up listening to this moral story, it goes like this…

There was once a washer man who had a donkey and a dog. One night when the whole world was sleeping, a thief broke into the house, the washer man was fast asleep but the donkey and the dog were awake. The dog decided not to bark since the master did not take good care of him and wanted to teach him a lesson. The donkey got worried and said to the dog that if he doesn't bark, the donkey will have to do something himself. The dog did not change his mind and the donkey started braying loudly. Hearing the donkey bray, the thief ran away, the master woke up and started beating the donkey for braying in the middle of the night for no reason.

Moral of the story “One must not engage in duties other than his own"

Now take a new look at the same story…

The washer man was a well educated man from a premier management institute. He had the fundas of looking at the bigger picture and thinking out of the box. He was convinced that there must be some reason for the donkey to bray in the night. He walked outside a little and did some fact finding, applied a bottom up approach, figured out from the ground realities that there was a thief who broke in and the donkey only wanted to alert him about it. Looking at the donkey's extra initiative and going beyond the call of the duty, he rewarded him with lot of hay and other perks and became his favorite pet. The dog's life didn't change much, except that now the donkey was more motivated in doing the dog's duties as well. In the annual appraisal the dog managed a “meets requirement”. Soon the dog realized that the donkey is taking care of his duties and he can enjoy his life sleeping and lazing around. The donkey was rated as “star performer". The donkey had to live up to his already high performance standards. Soon he was over burdened with work and always under pressure and now is looking for a job rotation…

Disclaimer:
All characters in the story are not at all imaginary. Any resemblance to person living or dying of work is purely intentional.

A beautiful stoy...

Sounds too sentimental & finding such a relationship is becoming so scarce now –a-days. But “Love and care for the one you love every single day of your life. You may think what you did is just a small deed, but to that someone, it may mean a lot” - Comment by Rajesh a friend of mine who forwarded this one

I was born in a secluded village on a mountain. Day by day, my parents plowed the yellow dry soil with their backs towards the sky.

I have a brother who is 3 years younger than me. I wanted to buy a handkerchief, which all girls around me seemed to have. So, one day I stole 50 cents from my father's drawer. Father had discovered about the stolen money right away.

He made me and my younger brother kneel against the wall as he held a bamboo stick in his hand.

'Who stole the money?' he asked.

I was stunned, too afraid to talk. Neither of us admitted to the fault, so he said, 'Fine, if nobody wants to admit, you two should be beaten!'

He lifted up the bamboo stick.

Suddenly, my younger brother gripped father's hand and said, Dad, I was the one who did it!'

The long stick smacked my brother's back repeatedly. Father was so angry that he kept on whipping my brother until he lost his breath.

After that, he sat down on our stone bed and scolded my brother, 'You have learned to steal from your own house now. What other embarrassing things will you be possibly doing in the future? You should be beaten to death, you shameless thief!'

That night, my mother and I hugged my brother. His body was full of wounds from the beating but he never shed a single tear.

In the middle of the night, all of sudden, I cried out loudly. My brother covered my mouth with his little hand and said, Sis, now don't cry anymore. Everything has happened.'

I still hate myself for not having enough courage to admit what I did. Years went by, but the incident still seemed like it just happened yesterday.

I will never forget my brother's expression when he protected me.

That year, my brother was 8 years old and I was 11 years old.

When my brother was in his last year of secondary school, he was accepted in an upper secondary school in the central. At the same time, I was accepted into a university in the province.

That night, father squatted in the yard, smoking, packet by packet. I could hear him ask my mother, 'Both of our children, they have good results? Very good results?'

Mother wiped off her tears and sighed,' What is the use? How can we possibly finance both of them?'

At that time, my brother walked out, he stood in front of father and said, 'Dad, I don't want to continue my study anymore, I have read enough books.'

Father swung his hand and slapped my brother on his face.

'Why do you have a spirit so damn weak? Even if it means I have to beg for money on the streets, I will send you two to school until you have both finished your studies!'


And then, he started to knock on every house in the village to borrow money.

I stuck out my hand as gently as I can to my brother's swollen face, and told him, 'A boy has to continue his study; if not; he will not be able to overcome this
poverty we are experiencing.' I, on the other hand, had decided not to further my study at the university.

Nobody knew that on the next day, before dawn, my brother left the house with a few pieces of worn-out clothes and a few dry beans. He sneaked to my side of the bed and left a note on my pillow; 'Sis, getting into a university is not easy. I will go find a job and I will send money to you.'

I held the note while sitting on my bed, and cried until I lost my voice.

That year, my brother was 17 years old; I was 20 years old.

With the money father borrowed from the whole village, and the money my brother earned from carrying cement on his back at a construction site, finally, I managed to get to the third year of my study in the university.

One day, while I was studying in my room, my roommate came in and told me, 'There's a villager waiting for you outside!'

Why would there be a villager looking for me? I walked out, and I saw my brother from afar. His whole body was covered with dirt, dust, cement and sand. I asked him, 'Why did you not tell my roommate that you are my brother?'

He replied with a smile,' Look at my appearance. What will they think if they would know that I am your brother? Won't they laugh at you?'

I felt so touched, and tears filled my eyes. I swept away dirt and dust from my brother's body. And told him with a lump in my throat, "I don't care what people would say! You are my brother no matter what your appearance is?'

>From his pocket, he took out a butterfly hair clip. He put it on my hair and said, 'I saw all the girls in town are wearing it. So, I think you should also have one.'

I could not hold back myself anymore. I pulled my brother into my arms and cried. That year, my brother was 20 years old; I was 23 years old.

I noticed that the broken window was repaired the first time I brought my boyfriend home. The house was scrubbed cleaned.

After my boyfriend left, I danced like a little girl in front of my mother, 'Mom, you didn't have to spend so much time cleaning the house!' But she told me with a smile,

"It was your brother who went home early to clean the house. Didn't you see the wound on his hand? He hurt his hand while he was replacing the window.'

I went into my brother's bedroom. Looking at his thin face, I felt like hundreds of needles pricked in my heart.

I applied some ointment on his wound and put a bandage on it, 'Does it hurt?" I asked him.

'No, it doesn't hurt. You know, when at the construction site, stones keep falling on my feet ...Even that could not stop me from working.'

In the middle of the sentence, he stopped. I turned my back on him and tears rolled down my face. That year, my brother was 23 years old; I was 26 years old.

After I got married, I lived in the city. Many times my husband invited my parents to come and live with us, but they didn't want.

They said, once they left the village, they wouldn't know what to do.

My brother agreed with them. He said, 'Sis, you just take care of your parents-in-law. I will take care of Mom and Dad here.'

My husband became the director of his factory. We asked my brother to accept the offer of being the
manager in the maintenance department. But my brother rejected the offer. He insisted on working
as a repairman instead for a start.

One day, my brother was on the top of a ladder repairing a cable, when he got electrocuted, and was
sent to the hospital.

My husband and I visited him at the hospital. Looking at the plaster cast on his leg, I grumbled, 'Why did you reject the offer of being a manager? Managers won't do something dangerous like that. Now look at you - you are suffering a serious injury. Why didn't you just listen to us?'

With a serious expression on his face, he defended his decision, 'Think of brother-in-law. He just became the director, and I being uneducated, and would become a manager, what kind of rumors would fly around?'

My husband's eyes filled up with tears, and then I said,
'But you lack in education only because of me!'

'Why do you talk about the past?' he said and then he held my hand.

That year, he was 26 years old and I was 29 years old.

My brother was 30 years old when he married a farmer girl from the village. During the wedding reception, the master of ceremonies asked him, 'Who is the one person you respect and love the most?'

Without even taking a time to think, he answered,' My sister.' He continued by telling a story I could not even remember.

'When I was in primary school, the school was in a different village. Everyday, my sister and I would walk for 2 hours to school and back home. One day, I lost the other pair of my gloves. My sister gave me one of hers.

She wore only one glove and she had to walk far. When we got home, her hands were trembling because of the cold weather that she could not even hold her chopsticks. From that day on, I swore that as long as I live, I would take care of my sister and will always be good to her.'

Applause filled up the room. All guests turned their attention to me.

I found it hard to speak, 'In my whole life, the one I would like to thank most is my brother, 'And in this happy occasion, in front of the crowd, tears were rolling down my face again.

Love and care for the one you love every single day of your life. You may think what you did is just a small deed, but to that someone, it may mean a lot.

'God has always been planning things for me' - an inspiring achievement

its a really inspiring article that came thro mail.. posted in rediff
http://specials.rediff.com/news/2008/jul/28sl1.htm

'God has always been planning things for me'

July 28, 2008 Shobha Warrier

Naga Naresh Karuturi has just passed out of IIT Madras in Computer Science and has joined Google in Bangalore.

You may ask, what's so special about this 21-year-old when there are hundreds of students passing out from various IITs and joining big companies like Google?

Naresh is special. His parents are illiterate. He has no legs and moves around in his powered wheel chair. (In fact, when I could not locate his lab, he told me over the mobile phone, 'I will come and pick you up'. And in no time, he was there to guide me)

Ever smiling, optimistic and full of spirit; that is Naresh. He says, "God has always been planning things for me. That is why I feel I am lucky."

Read why Naresh feels he is lucky.

Childhood in a village

I spent the first seven years of my life in Teeparru, a small village in Andhra Pradesh, on the banks of the river Godavari. My father Prasad was a lorry driver and my mother Kumari, a house wife. Though they were illiterate, my parents instilled in me and my elder sister (Sirisha) the importance of studying.

Looking back, one thing that surprises me now is the way my father taught me when I was in the 1st and 2nd standards. My father would ask me questions from the text book, and I would answer them. At that time, I didn't know he could not read or write but to make me happy, he helped me in my studies!

Another memory that doesn't go away is the floods in the village and how I was carried on top of a buffalo by my uncle. I also remember plucking fruits from a tree that was full of thorns.

I used to be very naughty, running around and playing all the time with my friends. I used to get a lot of scolding for disturbing the elders who slept in the afternoon. The moment they started scolding, I would run away to the fields!

I also remember finishing my school work fast in class and sleeping on the teacher's lap!

January 11, 1993, the fateful day

On the January 11, 1993 when we had the Sankranti holidays, my mother took my sister and me to a nearby village for a family function. From there we were to go with our grandmother to our native place. But my grandmother did not come there. As there were no buses that day, my mother took a lift in my father's friend's lorry. As there were many people in the lorry, he made me sit next to him, close to the door.

It was my fault; I fiddled with the door latch and it opened wide throwing me out. As I fell, my legs got cut by the iron rods protruding from the lorry. Nothing happened to me except scratches on my legs.

The accident had happened just in front of a big private hospital but they refused to treat me saying it was an accident case. Then a police constable who was passing by took us to a government hospital.

First I underwent an operation as my small intestine got twisted. The doctors also bandaged my legs. I was there for a week. When the doctors found that gangrene had developed and it had reached up to my knees, they asked my father to take me to a district hospital. There, the doctors scolded my parents a lot for neglecting the wounds and allowing the gangrene to develop. But what could my ignorant parents do?

In no time, both my legs were amputated up to the hips.

I remember waking up and asking my mother, where are my legs? I also remember that my mother cried when I asked the question. I was in the hospital for three months.

Life without legs

I don't think my life changed dramatically after I lost both my legs. Because all at home were doting on me, I was enjoying all the attention rather than pitying myself. I was happy that I got a lot of fruits and biscuits.

Voice of Love - Emotional Maturity

Got this one through mail from a friend.. a wonderful read on emotional maturity...

The husband and wife gifted themselves a new car for their first wedding anniversary. They drove downtown, zipped through the beach road, watched a movie in a drive-in theatre, and finally returned home. They didn't have the garage facility. So the car was parked in the street. To their utter shock, when they woke up the next morning, the car was missing. The car was stolen. First car, first wedding anniversary gift, and they had enjoyed the car for just a day. The wife couldn't take it. With misty eyes she sank into the sofa. The husband too was a little jolted, but his love for his wife prevailed over the moment. He hugged her from behind, and said, “The car is lost. You can feel heavy about it. The car is lost. You can take it easy. Either way the car is lost. Then, why not take it easy.” She gave him a cold stare and the moment passed. Two months later the police recovered the car from one of the car-robbery-gangs, and the car was returned to the husband. That very evening, while driving back home from the police station, the husband rammed the car against a truck. This time it was his turn. He couldn't take it. On returning home, with misty eyes he sank into the sofa. Of course jolted, yet her love for him prevailed over the moment. This time, she hugged him from behind, and said, “The car is rammed. You can feel heavy about it. The car is rammed. You can take it easy. Either way the car is rammed. Then, why not take it easy.”

A logical question: When the car is lost or rammed, how can anyone take it easy? But what else can you do? Feel heavy, if you want; take it easy, if you want - either way, after the emotional drama, what has to be done has to be done.The police complaint has to be lodged; the car has to be sent to the workshop; the insurance has to be claimed… what has to be done has to be done.

The child has failed in one of the subjects. The father slaps the child a few times. The mother hits herself on her forehead several times and cries. After all the emotional drama, what? Now, you will have to take extra care on coaching your child on that subject - may be he will be sent for special tuition - what has to be done has to be done. You left the milk a little longer than required on the gas stove. The boiled milk is beginning to overflow from all sides of the vessel. Scream, wail, screech, get tensed, and let your BP to shoot up… after all the emotional drama, now what? You will switch the stove off, offload the milk vessel and clean the kitchen countertop. So, eventually what has to be done will be done.

From a stock market crash, to a key employee's resignation, to the death of a beloved… after the emotional drama, eventually what has to be done will be done.Here we are not discussing about not being emotional, but about avoiding the dramatic emotional reactions. Understandably, you will skip a heartbeat when you lose your vehicle, you will sink into helplessness when the child fails, legitimate tears will roll down at the loss of a beloved. Emotions - yes. Emotional

drama - no!

Emotional Maturity is not about avoiding emotions, but it is about avoiding the emotional drama. Anyways, what has to be done has to be done. Then, why the drama?

Wood

Got this from someone thro mail... a nice read...

There once was a man who lived at the outskirts of a busy important city. He was a regular man, by all accounts. He lived with his wife. His daughters were grown up, and had moved out to homes of their own. He used to sell insurance for a government company for many years, but now he was old and had retired. Everyday after he woke, the man would strip away his clothes and examine every bit of his bony body. Then he would call for his wife, to examine the parts he couldn’t see for himself. His wife had protested initially at this meaningless exercise, and had even suggested he see the doctor if he was so worried about his health. But over the years, she had resigned herself to this bizarre morning routine.

When he was employed, the man would take the train to city everyday. He would get off at the station close to work, and take a bus to his office. His office was in one of the biggest buildings on one of the busiest roads in the city. He would reach his office by ten in the morning everyday and head to the cafeteria for a cup of tea. Then he would head to his little cubicle, pick up the list for the day, and head out. His job was to visit companies or important people and convince them of the benefits of insurance. He did his job fairly well, and his superiors had no complaints about him. He was a quiet sort of man, who was fairly easy to overlook. If you walked into a room in which he was sitting alone, you would tend not to notice him. He had the quality of old furniture that way; he looked like he was part of the environment around him, wherever he was. Because of this he wasn’t promoted very often. Like I said, he was easily overlooked. But that didn’t bother him. He wasn’t an ambitious sort of person. He was happy with his work, and his pay, so it didn’t occur to him to push for a better cubicle or a car, even when people junior to him were given all of this.

One day, a few months before he retired he visited the home of a rich businessman. His office had received a call from the businessman requesting for an insurance policy. The businessman had specifically named the man as the person he wished to liaise with. The office found this strange. The man wasn’t particularly popular or someone who moved in the businessman’s circle. Nevertheless, the businessman was an important person, and it was possible than he could generate a lot of income for the company, and so the message was passed on to the man. The man arrived a few minutes prior to the appointment as he always did.

The businessman lived in an affluent part of the city, where movie stars and politicians stayed. The streets were broad and well paved, and big trees lined either side of it. The businessman’s house was old and looked like it had been in the family for centuries. It had gabled windows and creepers clinging to its white walls. At the gate, the man gave his name to the guard, who glanced at his notepad, and waved him on. The man walked up a big gravel driveway to the house. The ground floor of the house was converted into a modern looking office, with steel and glass doors and fancy potted plants. Though the office itself was very nicely laid out, it seemed to the man that it looked distinctly ill at ease at being an inseparably attached to the old house.

The man announced himself to the receptionist who asked him to wait. The businessman was in a meeting. The man thanked her and settled himself on a plush sofa next to the window with a view of the garden. The receptionist returned to her phone, and promptly forgot about the man. The man was used to waiting, and so he looked out the window at the garden. It was after a little while that the man realized that the garden was looking back. He blinked, and squinted at the hedges again but he couldn’t see anything. He looked towards the receptionist to see if she had noticed anything, but she didn’t seem to have, busy as she was chewing gum and speaking on the phone. The man turned to window again, and jumped a little. There was a monkey outside the window, looking right at him. When the man got over his initial shock, he realized that it wasn’t a monkey, but a very old man. He was so old that he was bent almost double. His skin was wrinkled many times over, and he had grey stubble over his chin. The monkey-man beckoned to him, and hobbled towards a little shed at the edge of the garden. The man normally didn’t do things outside his routine, but he was curious about the monkey-man, and a little scared. He glanced at the receptionist, whose back was turned towards the cabinet behind her, and stepped outside the office. He traced the monkey-man’s steps to the little shed.

The man’s eyes took a little time to adjust to the darkness of the shed. A powerful smell of something decaying hung in the air. The shed had windows, but it looked like it hadn’t been opened in ages. The grime on the windows let hardly any light in. The shed had no electricity, but was dimly lit by three candle stubs on a weathered wooden table. The monkey-man smiled at the man, somehow making his face seem even more monkey-like.
‘You have come because of the Wood’, whispered the monkey-man. Most of his teeth were missing, and so his words had an undertone of a hiss.
‘The wood?’, asked the man, also whispering, though he had no idea why.
‘There is Wood in you, I can see it’, continued the old man.
The man turned to go. This was making no sense to him. The monkey-man was evidently not well. He was a practical sort of man, and he was getting uncomfortable about following the monkey-man to the shed. What if the guard came, he thought.
‘Wait’, hissed the monkey-man, ‘my son will not be finished with his meeting for a while’.
The man turned back. ‘Your son?’, he asked.
‘Yes, he is my son. But there is no Wood in him. There is no wood in me. I haven’t seen one with Wood in years’.
The man, deciding that he had had enough, started backing away towards the door. The monkey-man suddenly moved aside, and the man let out a strangled scream. In the flickering light of the candle stubs he saw rows upon rows of mangled human bodies carved inexpertly from what looked like driftwood. All the bodies had similar pained expressions on their faces, and their limbs were twisted into strange positions. The man turned and ran as fast as he could to the office. The monkey-man screeched, ‘Give me the Wood. Give me the Wood’.

The man pushed aside the glass door and ran into the office. The receptionist stared at him.
‘There’s a madman in that shed’, he yelled, pointing to the window. The inner door opened and the businessman stepped out.
‘I see you’ve met my father. I apologize on his behalf, please, do come in’, said the businessman.
The receptionist got a glass of water for the man and smiled at him sympathetically.
When the man was seated in the businessman’s room, and had resumed breathing normally, the businessman spoke.
‘My father isn’t very well. He usually keeps to himself. I don’t know what happened today. I am truly very sorry’.
‘Those figures’, said the man.
‘My father was a painter once. He turned to sculpting after he became unwell. He carves those grotesque figures from driftwood. Again, I am very very sorry about what you had to go through’.
‘No, it’s all right. Your father didn’t do anything. It was just, in that light, and those figures, it was all very spooky’, said the man.
‘I understand’, said the businessman.
No more was spoken about the episode. The businessman took a very expensive policy, and a bigger one for all the employees of his office. The businessman apologized again and walked the man to the door. The man was escorted to the gate by a guard, and he made his way back to office.


***

It was on the train when it began. He was on his way home from the city, where he had gone to pick up his pension. He had been expecting it; he always knew it would come. Being on a train made it inconvenient, though. At least, his wife wasn’t with him, he thought. The train stopped at a midway station. The man got out. He walked quickly to the railway postal service office, spoke to the man behind the counter, and wrote something down. He thanked the man behind the counter, and left the station. He crossed over the tracks and walked as fast as he could away from the station. Evening was falling, and soon there was no one in sight. The man doubled over in pain, and fell to his knees. He lifted his shirt, and felt his stomach. His stomach had turned to wood. Old, weather-beaten driftwood. He dug the earth where he had fallen. Scratching, clawing, pulling up large chunks of earth and stone, like a mad man, he created a hole in the earth, into which he sank. Crouching in the hole, he retrieved as much mud and earth as he could. The man was burying himself. When dawn broke, all that remained was the weathered wooden stump of the man’s hand protruding from the earth, as if reaching for the sky, or for help, who knew. People passing by didn’t give it a second look. It looked like the stump of a burned shrub, and it blended well into the shrubbery surrounding it.

The next day his wife received a letter in the post. The letter simply said: “I did not want to become part of his collection”. In the letter was enclosed the man’s pension cheque.

Reply for - Can India be strong... a pessimistic approach...

A follow-up on my previous article...
One of the reply i got when i forwarded the article to one of my friends... And what i replied him..
Comments are welcome....

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Exactly and i indeed haven't written at any point that individualism is better than collectivism. Given our cultural, moral and ethical values added to our altruistic nature we've evolved so... And infact there is nothing wrong about it.. I've only opined that this couldn't aid our Pursuit of a Global Super Power..

The only point i wanted to make is that its only their Rugged individualism that had aided America. This only undermines the very point that why are we proclaiming ourselves as a confident ppl. There is not an ounce of doubt that we are reincarnating as a global power but just that we might articulate ourselves clumsily (may be in our own way). Its also evident that neither the chinese were able to foster the individuals and this probably be the hinderance factor for we emergeing superpowers.

This being my pessimistic view of the same, I've only stated the negative facts.. and are not cushioned with positives and is a bit hard to swallow. (at time i feel like this kind of introspection can reveal the major hinderances that we face by wearing a facade of our brighter fortunes).

At the same time can any of us negate the fact that we are weak in emotional self-unerstanding ??? are we taking anything that reflects our trueself. We keep complaining, complaining, complaining..... None of us are ready to take the initiative (including me) finally we end-up benchmarking the grown nations and comparing with ours... We know we have lots of problems lies within us but how often when reflected upon we behaved well ?? (atleast not me)

We know whats wrong but we still follow the herd in misbehaving (doesn't that hurt) From traffic rules, speeding, taxes (if theres any one in our comp who shows original records for LTA, that'll be a NEWS to me) corruption, negligence, piracies, delibrate over ruling of laws.... and it goes on...

And we are only left with ANGER, Anger with ourselves, anger with this society and so on.... this is what the price we pay for collectivism. Though this has yielded social and moral values this has not (Certainly not) contributed on our road towards growth. And more often than not had only been the boulders of obstruction for every constructive approach.

And yes we can't be individualistic (so called egoistic) in a country like his. Living in adversity is afterall not a small thing. And we somehow have succeeded for years in doing this which had made us more fragile and at the same time every invations have taught us something (being positive) But this certainly had implications on us in every dimensions. From our lifestyle, culture, society and so on... Now we've become something that we are not sure of what.. Rapid Evolution had only made us more eager to the newer ones. We've become very receptive to the trends but the sadest thing is that our inmate souls haven't evolved much. Like we still believe in superstitions, more than anyone..

The point im trying to make is that we've been breeded with foreign culture and our own which at one point has its own advantages on the other side hasn't. We've started looking at our own from a different vantge point. As for me i cannot but confuse myself as to which one is better.

Finally we end up complaining this as anarchy..... well im sorry at times its hard for me to refrain myself from writing long passages.. i just type what occurs to me (for this reason i've kept my post very concise in abstract of my opinions) Though i have a lot more to say I'd like to end-up with this...

Yes Rugged individualism can only foster egoism and can prove to be futile with our population and our hybrid culture, and does not carry nationalistic feelings. Dont you agree that the later bonds you with a fence restricting your limits and more often than not restrains a man/ women from pursuing his own self (for instance the so-called Kaal Kattu) ... I know many including me who want to be someone ended up being some one. And this hurts... You've mistaken me on that.. but the onus was on me for stating it vaguely fearing my longparagraphobia... ( and yes there are lots of them who use this to complain and justify themselves for their own inability but... ). Individualism makes you excercise who you are and you'll do justice to what you love doing.... Which will in-turn contribute to the nation.

But yes too much of anything is too bad...

Ithudan yenadhu urayai mudithukkolgiren.. mockai pottamaikku yenadu varthangal and ithuvarai paditha ullangalukku yen nandri....

BTW: If i do sound Insane, weird or whatever expletives you think of so be it. I ceratinly feel remoseful for this looooong reply and consuming so much of ur time

Cheers

Subbu

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‘Rugged individualism” could be highly dangerous with a billion people. All said and done, American Individualism came about when they did not have to think of the next square meal. Here in India you & I belong to this minority who were fortunate enough to have a good food and education and even that came about because of the sacrifices of our parents and grandparents. Our ethos and family bonding calls for collectivism and not individualism. THIS IS THE TRUTH AND THIS NEED NOT HURT. And yes I believe, people who are hell bent on individualism are generally highly egocentric and do not carry too much of nationalistic feelings. If they are really nationalistic, they will not care so much about individualism. Let me make it clear that I am not against individualism, but to me utilitarianism is far more important than individualism.

Regards,

Sudhir

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From: Subramani S

Gud Morning... Its time we let some hurt (truth hurts) come in... lot of typos bear with this...

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From: Chuppandi [mailto:chuppandi@gmail.com]

We keep saying we are a confident people but confident people don’t need such self-reinforcement. The truth is that after decades of feeling inadequate we are re-emerging as a nation and as people. It’s tough. Resurgent nations articulate power clumsily and often succumb to chauvinism as they seek redress for fast grievances and recognition for their new status. That’s what happened in Germany and Italy in 1930’s and what India (and China) are grappling with now.

This change causes turmoil at a personal level too. But we seldom realize or talk about it because we are not big on emotional self-understanding. In the years we obsessed over bread-and-butter issues, our parents and teahers focused us on achieving financial security, not personal actualization. It made us cling to family rather than explore our individualism and pushed us into professions in which we had no inclination or interest. Now, manyu of us feel a conflict between our material and inner lives. Add to this our unresolved national traumas, such as partition and the indignity of everyday life, and it’s easy to see why our innate Indian character of rectitude and moderation is loaded with insecurity, and anger.

Fitting our complex emotions into a corporate world that demands ational professionalism is tough. Managers complain youngsters are addicted to lucre and allergic to feedback. Youngsters moan their superiors have feudal mindsets and archaic skill sets. This complex corporate sociologyis delibilating employees and corporate growth. Parents and ecationists are now bringing up children differently. But in the meantime, CEOs should invest in the training and counseling needed to ease the subterranean strains running through India Inc. as Alexis de Tocqueville said, it was america’s “rugged individualism” that made the country great. India’s fragile collectivism cannot build strong companies, or the nation

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Posted By Chuppandi to CHUPPANDI CHATS at 7/09/2008 03:28:00 AM

Break Away the Limitations

The following is from Jim Donovan’s article. He is the author of Handbook to a Happier Life, a motivational speaker and certified business coach

Worth a Read!!!!!!!!!!!

Why The Elephants Don't Run

A number of years ago, I had the rather unique experience of being backstage in Madison Square Garden, in New York, during the Ringling Brothers Barnum & Bailey Circus. I was able to walk around looking at the lions, tigers, giraffes and all the other circus animals. As I was passing the elephants, I suddenly stopped, confused by the fact that these huge creatures were being held by only a small rope tied to their front leg. No chains, no cages. It was obvious that the elephants could, at any time, break away from their bonds but for some reason, they did not. I saw a trainer near by and asked why these beautiful, magnificent animals just stood there and made no attempt to get away.

"Well," he said, "when they are very young and much smaller we use the same size rope to tie them and, at that age, it's enough to hold them. As they grow up, they are conditioned to believe they cannot break away. They think the rope can still hold them, so they never try to break free." I was amazed. These animals could at any time break free from their bonds but because they believed they could not, they were stuck right where they were.

Like the elephants, how many of us go through life hanging onto a belief that we cannot do something, simply because we failed at it once before? How many of us are being held back by old, outdated beliefs that no longer serve us? Have you avoided trying something new because of a limiting belief? Worse, how many of us are being held back by someone else's limiting beliefs?

Challenge your own limiting beliefs by questioning them. If you begin to question a belief, you automatically weaken it. The more you question your limiting beliefs, the more they are weakened. It has been said throughout history that what ever you believe, with conviction, you can achieve. Don't be like the poor elephant and go through your life stuck because of a limiting belief you were given or developed years ago.

Take charge of your life and live it to the fullest. You deserve the best! - Jim Donovan

Jim's message is,

"Within you is the power to Change Your Life."

Just for this morning - A beautiful poem written by a father to his daughter

A beautiful poem written by a father to his daughter

I dont stand for the veracity of this poem which came as a part of the email that I receive everyday. But I felt touched the spirit of this poem and I am cut pasting it from the email body. I leave it to the readers choice to do what they want. (sorry I didnt do anything that the email wanted me to do it, as in this world "believing anything and everything" has become a casualty of our times. I also get different varieties of such mail. The last para lets you know the true intention of this blog psoting.

TO MY CHILD
Just for this morning, I am going to smile when I see your face and laugh when I feel like crying.
Just for this morning, I will let you choose what you want to wear,and smile and say how perfect it is.
Just for this morning, I am going to step over the laundry and pick you up and take you to the park to play.
Just for this morning, I will leave the dishes in the sink, and let you teach me how to put that puzzle of yours together.
Just for this afternoon, I will unplug the telephone and keep the computer off, and sit with you in the backyard and blow bubbles.
Just for this afternoon, I will not yell once, not even a tiny grumble when you scream and whine for the ice cream truck, and I will buy you one if he comes by.
Just for this afternoon, I won't worry about what you are going to be when you grow up, or second guess every decision I have made where you are concerned.
Just for this afternoon, I will let you help me bake cookies, and I won't stand over you trying to fix them.
Just for this afternoon, I will take us to McDonald's and buy us both a Happy Meal so you can have both toys.
Just for this evening, I will hold you in my arms and tell you a story about how you were born and how much I love you.
Just for this evening, I will let you splash in the tub and not get angry.
Just for this evening, I will let you stay up late while we sit on the porch and count all the stars.
Just for this evening, I will snuggle beside you for hours, and miss my favourite TV shows.
Just for this evening when I run my finger through your hair as you pray, I will simply be grateful that God has given me the greatest gift ever given.

I will think about the mothers and fathers who are searching for their missing children, the mothers and fathers who are visiting their children's graves instead of their bedrooms. The mothers and fathers who are in hospital rooms watching their children suffer senselessly and screaming inside that little body And when I kiss you goodnight I will hold you a little tighter, a little longer. It is then,that I will thank God for you, and ask him for nothing, except one more day.............

Hi! I am a 29-year-old father. My wife and I have had a wonderful life together. God blessed us with a child too. Our daughter's name is Rachel and she is 10 months old. Not long ago did the doctors detect brain cancer in her little body.There is only one way to save her and that is an operation. Sadly we don't have the money for the operation. AOL and Zdnet (in Zimbabwe )have agreed to help us.The only way they can help is this: If you send this email to other people<>AOL will track this email and count how many people get it. Every person that opens this email and sends it to at least 3 people will give us 32c. (in Zimbabwe dollars) Please help us.--HAMDEALI HATIM KANTHAWALACELL:- 9821040412TEL:- 23726856 / 23753137FAX:- 23778581

My opinion is that why should we wait for a tragedy to bring out our love and affection. Why cannot we pause in our life now and then and take a deep breath and enjoy our family. Lets all do it today itself so that our children get the best of us all the times

Very Funny

Came through mail, a funny one but worth reading...

A little boy wanted Rs.50 very badly and prayed for weeks, but nothing happened. Finally he decided to write God a letter requesting the Rs.50.When the postal authorities received the letter addressed to God, INDIA, they decided to forward it to the President of the India as a joke. The President was so amused, that he instructed his secretary to send the little boy Rs.20. The President thought this would appear to be a lot of money to a little boy, and he did not want to spoil the kid. The little boy was delighted with Rs.20, and decided to write a thank you note to God, which read: "Dear God: Thank you very much for sending the money. However, I noticed that you sent it through the Rashtrapati Bhavan in New Delhi, and those donkeys deducted Rs.30 in taxes.