CNN Hero - Narayanan Krishnan

Im speechless... Its very mean how we keep talking of this, that and keep blaming our governments for not doing things. Its very easy for all of us to close our eyes and shy away from helping others. Its time that we pay back the society that gave us all it can ever give. Being fortunate doesn't make us divine let us be of all be human first.

Hats off to him...

How to Find Your Life's Purpose

Millions of people have asked the question "Why am I here?" and "What is the purpose of this Life?" Here are some ways to find your purpose and passion in life and some guidance on how to live the answer to this age old questions.

A WikiHow article...

Steps

• Make a list of the things you do for fun, or that you really enjoy. Include in the list the parts of your job that you really like, the things you volunteer for, sports, the arts, reading, etc. Imagine you're a billionaire with no worries about money, how would you choose to spend your time? Add those things to the list, even if you don't do them now. This list is of your passions; the things that you love to do, or would do simply for the pleasure they bring you.
• Write down the names of people that you admire, and why you admire them. For example, you might admire Patch Adams for choosing to step out of the traditional role of medicine and creating new ways of healing and connecting with his patients while also having fun. You might admire the band Green Day for living out loud and on purpose, creating the music that they love and speaking their minds. You might admire Oprah Winfrey for choosing to reveal her truth, at a time when concealing is the norm. Name as many as you can think of. When you're done, look at the list and know that what you appreciate about others, is also in you. You are attracted to these qualities, because they speak to you, and they speak to you, because they are a part of your path. If this was your list, Stepping out of the box, telling the truth, and living out loud would be action steps that would take you toward your purpose. Adopt these admirations of others as a way for you to show up in the world. These are your actions.
• Make a list of the things you do naturally without even thinking about it. (You may want to ask others for feedback, as it's common for them to see talents in us that we don't see ourselves) Such natural talents may be: an eye for detail, a great sense of humor, a nurturing side, the ability to focus intently, or being playful. (Consider also, the things you've done that have gotten you into trouble--oftentimes if you turn them around and look at the positive aspects of it, you'll find a gem of a natural talent that you previously hadn't appreciated) These are your genius. Genius comes easily and profoundly, without needing to expend a lot of energy. Some people are geniuses at math or music; but there are lots of other types of genius as well. There are genius mothers, genius teachers, genius listeners, and genius independent thinkers. We are meant to use our genius in service of our Life Purpose.
• Look at your Passions, Actions, and Genius lists, and spend 10 minutes each morning doing something from one of the lists. Draw, sing, dance, tell the truth about something you've been concealing, organize a drawer, thank someone you've been appreciating silently, take a risk and call that girl.
• Notice how you feel. By definition, if you're living your life purpose, you'll feel exhilarated, excited, happy, and alive. If you're not feeling these things, go back to your lists, and see if there's anything you forgot to write down, or do the one you've been avoiding because it's so scary.
• Feel your fear and do it anyway! It's normal and natural to feel scared when stepping into your life purpose. Fritz Perls said, "Fear is really just excitement without the breath." So, keep breathing, and take the next step. If it's worth doing, you're probably going to feel a little scared doing it. Just think of the fear as the energy you need to take the next step.

Tips

• Look at ways to incorporate your Passions, Actions, and Genius more and more into your life. As you do, your life purpose will begin to unfold. Could you bring your attention to detail into your job? How about spending your lunch hour writing an article teaching someone else how to do something you love to do?
• As you increase the amount of time spent fulfilling your life's purpose, you'll notice it's easy to make decisions in life as you ask the question "Does this opportunity fit in with my passions, actions, and genius?" Over time, you'll spend more and more of your days living your life's purpose, and you'll feel happier and healthier than ever before.
• We often look at our Purpose as a way to answer everything right now or something that can only be fulfilled way into the Future. While one's life purpose may ultimately be fulfilled far into the future, find ways to start NOW: is it a side project, is it one of many aspects of your current job, can your purpose be expressed in the way you interact with current relationships.
• Keep in mind that often times, we find our purpose along the way. It is often stated after one's life has ended that they had a purpose, based on the events and choices of one's life.

Same Object, Different perceptions!!

When I was in elementary school, I got into a major argument with a boy in my class. I have forgotten what the argument was about, but I have never forgotten the lesson learned that day.

I was convinced that "I" was right and "he" was wrong - and he was just as convinced that "I" was wrong and "he" was right. The teacher decided to teach us a very important lesson. She brought us up to the front of the class and placed him on one side of her desk and me on the other.

In the middle of her desk was a large, round object. I could clearly see that it was black. She asked the boy what color the object was. "White," he answered.

I couldn’t believe he said the object was white, when it was obviously black! Another argument started between my classmate and me, this time about the color of the object.

The teacher told me to go stand where the boy was standing and told him to come stand where I had been. We changed places, and now she asked me what the color of the object was. I had to answer, "White." It was an object with two differently colored sides, and from his viewpoint it was white. Only from my side was it black.

My teacher taught me a very important lesson learned that day: You must stand in the other person’s shoes and look at the situation through their eyes in order to truly understand their perspective.

Similarly in life, there will be many times a situation ,where you think its not good but for others it might be. And sometimes you think this is good but actually it will not be. We tend to make biased decisions just based on one direction with short term gains but we need to think a lot from all perspective. Its better to have short term loss and long term benefits than short term gains and long term misery.

Each time we end up in an argument , what is important to us? To understand the situation by considering other person’s perception also? Or just winning the argument? Now you have to think on your own!!

Beyond Buisness

What is recession?

This story is about a man who once upon a time was selling Hotdogs by the roadside. He was illiterate, so he never read newspapers. He was hard of hearing, so he never listened to the radio. His eyes were weak, so he never watched television. But enthusiastically, he sold lots of hotdogs.

He was smart enough to offer some attractive schemes to increase his sales. His sales and profit went up. He ordered more a more raw material and buns and sold more. He recruited more supporting staff to serve more customers. He started offering home deliveries. Eventually he got himself a bigger and better stove. As his business was growing, the son, who had recently graduated from college, joined his father.

Then something strange happened.

The son asked, "Dad, aren't you aware of the great recession that is coming our way?" The father replied, "No, but tell me about it." The son said, "The international situation is terrible. The domestic situation is even worse. We should be prepared for the coming bad times."

The man thought that since his son had been to college, read the papers, listened to the radio and watched TV. He ought to know and his advice should not be taken lightly. So the next day onwards, the father cut down the his raw material order and buns, took down the colourful signboard, removed all the special schemes he was offering to the customers and was no longer as enthusiastic. He reduced his staff strength by giving layoffs. Very soon, fewer and fewer people bothered to stop at his Hotdog stand. And his sales started coming down rapidly and so did the profit. The father said to his son, "Son, you were right”. “We are in the middle of a recession and crisis. I am glad you warned me ahead of time."

Moral of the Story: It’s all in your MIND! And we actually FUEL this recession much more than we think.

Defenition of Excellence...

A wonderful story with a moral.... Nice to read... A man once visited a temple under construction where he saw a sculptor making an idol of God. Suddenly he noticed a similar idol lying nearby. Surprised, he asked the sculptor, "Do you need two statues of the same idol?" "No," said the sculptor without looking up, "We need only one, but the first one got damaged at the last stage." The gentleman examined the idol and found no apparent damage. "Where is the damage?" he asked. "There is a scratch on the nose of the idol." said the sculptor, still busy with his work. "Where are you going to install the idol?" The sculptor replied that it would be installed on a pillar twenty feet high. "If the idol is that far, who is going to know that there is a scratch on the nose?" the gentleman asked. The sculptor stopped his work, looked up at the gentleman, smiled and said, "I will know it." The desire to excel is exclusive of the fact whether someone else appreciates it or not. "Excellence" is a drive from inside, not outside. "Excellence is not for someone else to notice but for your own satisfaction and excellence"

A Small Story - but a nice moral

Got this forwarded from someone.... Just thought its worth sharing...

A boy and a girl were playing together. The boy had a collection of marbles. The girl had some sweets with her. The boy told the girl that he will give her all his marbles in exchange for her sweets. The girl agreed.

The boy kept the biggest and the most beautiful marble aside and gave the rest to the girl. The girl gave him all her sweets as she had promised.

That night, the girl slept peacefully. But the boy couldn’t sleep as he kept wondering if the girl had hidden some sweets from him the way he had hidden his best marble.

Moral of the story: If you don’t give your hundred percent in a relationship, you’ll always keep doubting if the other person has given his/her hundred percent.. This is applicable for any relationship like love, employer-employee relationship etc., Give your hundred percent to everything you do and sleep peacefully

Creative Destruction Happens Quickly; Those Who Wait End Up In The Rubble

From the just-a-warning dept - Techdirt

When we talk about the economics of industries that are in transition, such as the newspaper industry or the entertainment industry, we often point out the need to adopt new business models that embrace the economic realities those industries face. Regularly, supporters of those industries respond that it's folly to jump to a new "unproven" business model without real proof that the new business model will succeed -- especially when the old business model is still going strong. There's this belief that the companies in those industries can just hang on while everyone else experiments, and when a new business model is clear, they can comfortably make the switch and everything will be fine. And, it is true, that even disintermediated businesses have a history of sticking around and throwing off cash for a long time after the disruptive technology disintegrates their foundations.

Yet, as this article in The Atlantic points out with regard to the newspaper industry, when "the end" comes, it comes amazingly fast. It is true that old industries can hang on for a while, but they reach a sort of tipping point where suddenly everyone realizes that the emperor has no clothes. And, at that point, there really isn't any time to make the necessary shift to the new business model. Instead, there's just bankruptcy. So, sure, the record labels and the newspapers can wait it out and hang on until there's "proof" that some new business model makes sense. But, by the time that proof is there, their old business might not be.

Don't take the garbage and spread it to other people

Here is a short but meaningful story that Karthik had sent me. Hope it would brighten up ur day as well...

One day I hopped in a taxi and we took off for the airport. We were driving in the right lane when suddenly, a black car jumped out of a parking space right in front of us. My taxi driver slammed on his breaks, skidded, and missed the other car by just inches! The driver of the other car whipped his head around and started yelling at us. My taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy. And I mean, he was really friendly. So I asked, 'Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital!'

This is when my taxi driver taught me what I now call, 'The Law of the Garbage Truck.' He explained that many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment. As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it and sometimes they'll dump it on you. Don't take it personally.

Just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. Don't take their garbage and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the streets.

The bottom line is that successful people do not let garbage trucks take over their day. Life's too short to wake up in the morning with regrets, so... 'Love the people who treat you right. Pray for the ones who don't.' Life is ten percent what you make it and ninety percent how you take it!

What am i now from what i was once - A Self-Intorspection - Musings

I came home this evening letting out a wild outcry not knowing what to do. I feel like the time-out is running fast as my life goes on. I have so many things to do, I keep so many things in my mind and feeling like im running out of space, I have so many things to follow that I couldn’t even keep the trace of. Everything seems to be too much for me nowadays…

This state of fear fused with frail had posed me this introspection. What am I now from what I was a while before… A while ??? I think that while to me is from the serene days I had evolved rapidly during my college days. Those were the times I was consistently competing with my own limits. I had been able to do lot of things other than studying. Its not just that the projects (a lot) that I had worked and lent my hand that gave me the confidence to face the world, its that I had felt complete as a man. I had answers for my own questions (I was able to answer them). I felt like I was versatile enough to handle things (which turned out to be something the industries dislike. They need only performers not all-rounders is what they prefer to call it).

Now that being consistently underperforming and lowering my bar from time to time. Every milestone in my life seems far away fading inside my dreams (not so i had dreamt of). I had decided back then to work for atleast five years or so before i start in pursuit of my dream not as a kind of breather but just as some time to gain some positives Viz., mental, financial, knowledge, Experience (both in life & work which is why i prefered to stay with friends instead of staying with relatives), Vision, Information and lot more.... But it all turned out be lack of all of them and instead i gained alot of others Viz., weight (a lot of them losing my fitness levels wonder if i can call it that), introversion, lack of self-confidence and what not...

These i feel are only as a result of projecting yourself as an ill-performer doing mean things. Not being fed with right input to crunch for my brain is one thing and adding to that is my lacklustre life. I've been completely out of my mind doing whatever i feel im getting pleasure from. Resting my body, reading pot-boilers, straying out of my sane lifestyle, literally living an erroneous life...

However its completely wrong to blame my life @ work, work ethics or people around me for what i am and for what i am not. They are simply the way i wanted. If i can think of some positives its so sad that there are none to boost my confidence to the extent i can feel my fingers shaking whenever i try doing something challenging myself. My mind is completely working in curtailed space a kind of safe-mode just before destruction.

I hope to comeback from this state of mind / fear to the world where everything makes sense to me. I was often characterized by ppl referring to me everything they feel problamatic for i had solutions for most of them. I had once been an a salient person, prominent in the backyards of my department in college. i was accustomed to such a state of living. Now that being no one in a large cauldron i feel like im losing myself not having enough things or not being fed enough to crunch. However best i tried to indulge myself to keep myself busy i failed the harder making me still lowering my bars.

I hope to change my ill-fortune. I hope to bounce back to my life again, getting back to road after a wayward behaviour. I hope to make sense to mystelf and to others. I hope, i hope.... As Andy dufranse says in Shawshank Redemption, "Remember Hope is a good thing". And here i hope to become a man again still beliving things would turn up for me.

I was thinking about everything, writing about whatever comes to my mind, reflecting deeply on every nuances of life, creating whatever i thought, doing whatever i liked at some point of time i felt like im all set to conquer the world. But atlast the annhilation led me nowhere. Now, Im stuck with myself. The way i kept laughing others for their state of helplessness. I've become one myself. Now i think i shall show them how to comeback in life just as my dada did time after time. It may look like a fairytale but that is how winners work. That is how winning is done.

This reminds me of the Stallone's dialogue in his Rocky balboa -08. Something which i feel like my father or even my grandpa (if alive) would've told the same. These are the times i really miss my grandpa who really made me who iam literally from nowhere...

I'd hold you up to say to your mother, "this kid's gonna be the best kid in the world. This kid's gonna be somebody better than anybody I ever knew." And you grew up good and wonderful. It was great just watching you, every day was like a privilige. Then the time come for you to be your own man and take on the world, and you did. But somewhere along the line, you changed. You stopped being you. You let people stick a finger in your face and tell you you're no good. And when things got hard, you started looking for something to blame, like a big shadow. Let me tell you something you already know. The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows. It's a very mean and nasty place and I don't care how tough you are it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain't about how hard ya hit. It's about how hard you can get it and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward. That's how winning is done! Now if you know what you're worth then go out and get what you're worth. But ya gotta be willing to take the hits, and not pointing fingers saying you ain't where you wanna be because of him, or her, or anybody! Cowards do that and that ain't you! You're better than that! I'm always gonna love you no matter what. No matter what happens. You're my son and you're my blood. You're the best thing in my life. But until you start believing in yourself, ya ain't gonna have a life. Don't forget to visit your mother.

I think this introspection gave me a lot of postives to think about. And much importantly to vent out my negatives, to speak my heart out to see if mean something. I also request readers (if you care) to give me feedback on the same. I think i've mused enough again.

Best wishes to all u guyz for a Prosperous new year !! Hope this year and the years to come would bring us what we deserved and if one doors opens to another door lets close not our hope as we keep on walking till we find another window... But more than anything my wish for you all is that this life becomes all that you want it to be and your dreams stay big, you never need to carry more than what you can hold and i hope u all know somebody loves you and you love others.. Godspeed

Setting goals alone isn’t enough, you have to set them right

PSYCHO TALK

“Set your goals high” — or so the story goes. You might have been advised by people left, right and centre to set your goals high in your life. But, does setting goals really help matters at all? If so, what characterizes a proper goal? Now, to take a close look at what modern psychologists have to say about goal-setting, read on. Why are you reading this article instead of doing something else? Your motivation for reading this article might be based on your goal of gaining some knowledge, which in turn might relate to a broader goal like a well developed world view.
Along the same lines, students’ motivation to prepare for an examination might be to achieve their goal of doing a course well, which relates to a broader goal like a well paid job. Psychologists have found that we set goals when we see a discrepancy between our current situation and the situation we want to be in. Setting a goal motivates us to engage in behaviours that can take us towards it, but the kinds of goals we set can influence the amount of effort, persistence, attention and planning we devote to a task. It is also to say that setting a proper goal deserves some thought.

Goal setting

In general, the harder the goal, the harder people will try to get there for so long as the goal looks achievable —’looks achievable’ being the operative words there. Goals that are impossibly difficult may not motivate maximum effort. Secondly, the person has to accept the goal. If a difficult goal is set by someone else, as when parents ask their son to get full marks in mathematics, one may not accept it. Next, setting clear and specific goals tends to encourage persistence in people. In plain English, specificity increases motivation. For example, you are more likely to keep reading this article if your goal is to understand the whole article than if it is to “do some reading.” Clarifying your goal makes it easier to know when you have reached and when it is time to stop. What it all comes down to is, a proper goal is quite an equation of the following: Balance between hardness and achievability; Acceptability; Clarity; and Specificity.

Write to the author at: psychologywithnavin@yahoo.com

The School Bag

A touching story i read somewhere in blogosphere....

She sat beneath the banyan tree and beside her sat her tuition bag. Her eyes were hurt and she was angry. She kept looking at the open well few yards away. She imagined herself floating over the water the next day. Her appa*** will be angry with her for jumping into the well. Her thambi*** will miss her. Her amma*** will realize that she was after all a good girl. She pulled out her homework notebook which was neatly covered with newspaper that her amma had borrowed from the grocery stores. She looked at the handmade label. She and her brother had made it as soon as her appa had bought them their new books for that year. The label read – Kanmani. Vth Standard. She had wanted to write Kannu, just how her parents called her, instead she wrote Kanmani, the name her friends and teachers called her.

She tore a paper from the almost new notebook. She didn’t mind the torn edges that looked like rat-nibbled paper. She wanted to write her last letter to her parents before she made her way into the well early next morning. Her father had gone out of town and would be returning the next day. She would be gone by then. She addressed the letter to her appa and wrote how amma always scolded her for everything, how amma had always loved thambi and did not find time for her. She wrote about how much she had missed her appa when he was gone all the time, how she used to pretend to be studying late into the night, just because her dad would come home late. She wrote about how much she loved her thambi, how much she cared for him and how amma never used to understand that. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she poured out her frustrations.

Kannu folded the paper and safely pressed it inside the notebook along with a flower that she had picked near the tree. She tucked it inside the cloth bag and looked up at the sky. Darkness was engulfing the town and it was time for her to reach home, to savor her amma’s food for one last time. When her amma wakes up the next morning the door will be open. The kolam*** outside the house will be missing. Kannu will also be missing.

“Why did it take so long to get home?” her amma asked as she stepped into the house.

“I had to finish some additional homework today”

“Come and help me in the kitchen”

Their house was small with just 2 rooms, one living and the other kitchen. As she placed her bag beside her thambi’s bag, she saw him playing with his broken toys.

She had always dreamt of buying him new toys in a year or two. She knew she would be pulled out of school in a year and sent to work. As she walked into the kitchen she thought how her dream will never be realized. He might still have to play with broken toys.

“Tomorrow I am going to the temple early in the morning as it is Friday. So get up early with me and help me in the kitchen so that I can pack lunch for both of you and leave home. You take care of thambi and get him ready for school”, her amma said as she placed the rice pot over the earthen stove.

Kannu did not answer. She did not know how to execute her plan. She was still angry with her amma and she didn’t want to give up on her plan to give up on life.

“Are you listening?” her amma asked.

She nodded her head as she sat down with the onions. Kannu did not want to talk to her amma.

That night, the three of them sat outside the house on the thinnai*** and her amma fed her thambi telling him stories. Kannu ate her share of the rice and curry trying to follow her amma’s stories. She hardly remembered the time when she was her thambi’s age; six. She thought her amma would have told her tales as well and that she had grown up to be a big girl and have forgotten the past. She smiled at her thambi time and again and made faces so that he will laugh at her. Every mouthful of rice, her mind raced back to the letter tucked inside the notebook. “Will they search for my notebooks or should I leave it in a prominent place in the house?” her mind was still planning.

She readied the living room for the three of them to sleep beside a table fan that made creaking noises. The family was used to the noise all night. Her amma and thambi slept right beside the fan while she slept diagonally. She was used to it and she let it be because she loved seeing her thambi sleep so peacefully. She switched off the light and rested her head on the hard pillow. She did not close her eyes. She stared at the dark emptiness on the ceiling and her mind reeled back in time – what had happened few hours ago when she had come back from school.

“Where is thambi’s notebook and box?” her amma was frantically searching for them in thambi’s bag. Everyday Kannu carried both her bag and her thambi’s to and from school. That day her thambi had forgotten one of his notebooks and his pencil box and left them on the class desk.

“I don’t know amma. I just picked him from his classroom and we walked back home” there was fear in Kannu’s eyes when she answered her amma.

Her amma looked at thambi and he began to cry.

“I will run back to school and check” Kannu said as she headed towards the door.

“Wait! Who will go to the tuition? We are not wasting money on your carelessness. What if someone flicks the notebook and box?” her amma was clearly mad at Kannu.

“Now what do you want me to do? I didn’t know thambi had left it behind”

“Don’t talk back!” her amma was enraged. She held Kannu by her ear and stared into her petrified eyes.

Kannu was silent and looked back into her amma’s eyes. She wanted to push her away and run away from that house. Her eyes welled up and her amma’s grip on her ear loosened. She had a stinging pain run down her earlobe.

“You will not forget anything from school ever. You must check your belongings and that of thambi’s also before heading back home. Next time you leave something behind, I will not let you inside the house”

Kannu was angry. She thought it was a very harsh punishment that her amma will be imposing. She looked at her thambi as she picked her tuition bag. He was playing with his broken toys oblivious to the hurt in his sister’s eyes and heart. She was hurt and she wanted to teach her amma a lesson for always finding fault with her. Instead of walking into the tuition class, she sat beneath the banyan tree and wrote her last letter to her family.

As she closed her eyes there was a knock on the door and she opened her eyes with a startle. Her amma woke up from her sleep and switched on the light. Kannu squinted her eyes and looked at the man at the door. It was her appa and her happiness knew no bounds. She jumped at him in joy and broke down. He hugged her and pacified her. Her amma walked into the kitchen to heat the leftover food.

“I thought I will not see you” Kannu said as her eyes were still moist.

“Kannu, appa is here and you will see me quite often hereafter. Promise” he said and hugged her.

“I was harsh with her today” her amma said as she placed the plate on the floor.

“I’m sure Kannu would not have done anything” her appa said.

Kannu felt jubilant and looked at her amma as if to convey that she had appa to support her.

“She left behind thambi’s notebook and pencil box back in school. She might not understand that it is hard to buy another notebook and box this year”

It made sense to Kannu. She knew her parents worked hard to send them both to school.

“Kannu, amma is not angry with you. I just want you to be careful of our belongings. Just like your belongings you will always take care of thambi
also” her amma said as she sat beside appa and placed a plate of diced ripe mangoes.

“Can I take one?” Kannu asked.

“Sure” her appa passed the plate to her.

Kannu was happy. Her anger was replaced with the sweetness of the mangoes. She wanted to tear off the letter right away, but she had to wait until morning to do it. She went to sleep with a smile and the fact that it was Friday the next day. She already thought about how to spend her weekend.

July 16. The day dawned with a million orange flares on the sky. It looked different, the dawn. Kannu and her thambi walked to school. Her dad had left home early that day and her amma had gone to the temple. As they walked down the dusty road, she told her thambi of how appa had come home the previous night and how she got a chance to taste the sweet mangoes that her amma had hid in the rice drum.

At her class, while the teacher had excused herself to go out for a while, Kannu opened her bag to pull out the letter and then realized that it was in her tuition notebook which was at home. Her heart began to beat faster. She imagined her amma open her tuition notebook and read the letter. She wanted to run back home to destroy the letter. She hurried to the classroom door to run out before the teacher was back. The door was locked from outside. Kannu knew something was unusual that day, that moment. She placed her ear on the door. The cries were getting louder. She stood there motionless and the cries were getting scarier. She looked down beneath the door. Black smoke engulfed her legs as if a spirit had just been set free out of a lamp. She turned back and saw the other students in her classroom. They were oblivious to what was happening outside and kept playing. In less than a minute the room was getting smokier and the kids were coughing and some were choking. Kannu began to hit the door faster. The place
was beginning to feel warmer. Kannu realized that something outside the classroom was on fire. She quickly turned around and saw for other entrances to that classroom. She found a grilled gate that had a narrow passage to the ground floor.

She ran towards the gate and pushed it hard. She was sweating profusely and the kids were running frantically. The screams were deafening and Kannu did not want to give up. She wanted to live. As if to remember something, she quickly turned around and ran to her desk. She quickly put her pencil into her box and put everything else into her bag, swung it on her shoulder and ran to the gate. Some more kids joined in jostling the door open. Luckily the door opened and the kids ran down the narrow passage which was already engulfed in fire and black smoke. Kannu did not stop to look back at the kids who were already caught in the hungry fire’s mouth. She ran to the 1st standard classroom to pick her brother. The class was empty and her mind went blank. She did not know if they had a class elsewhere. She couldn’t think. She quickly ran down into open air outside the school. The thatched roofs were on fire all over the school and she looked up. The 11’oclock sun blinded her eyes. Amidst all the mayhem she spotted her thambi who was standing along with his other classmates and wailing. As soon as he saw Kannu, he ran to her and hid his face in her hug.

“Where is your bag?” she asked him.

He did not reply out of shock.

“Let me go get it” she said and pushed him away from her. She gave her bag to him. He began to cry even louder and pleaded her not to go.

“I will come back” she said and ran inside the school. Nobody noticed her as there were lot more kids who needed attention. Fire brigade men came out carrying kids who were half burnt. Some were burnt beyond recognition.

A kilometer away from the school, Kannu’s amma walked out of the house. Her eyes were moist. She had read the letter that Kannu had left in her notebook. She wanted to let Kannu know how much she meant to her and that she had always been rude to her so that she understands the responsibility as a girl child. As she looked up she saw smoke engulfing the bright and windy day. She knew something was wrong. It wasn’t too late for her to smell death.

She ran towards the school and stood there not reacting to the fire that gallantly swallowed the school. She looked around. Every kid looked like her
son and daughter. She moved inch-by-inch fearing that someone would be carrying her kids like charred material. Her head went dizzy and she stood at a place not moving any further.

“Ammmmaaaa!” she heard her son scream somewhere. Amidst all the chaos and mayhem, her son’s voice felt like cold drizzle on a sweltering mid day. He dropped the bag and ran to his amma and hugged her. She wailed and the sound of her own cries deafened her.

“Where is Kannu?” she asked as he buried himself in her.

He did not look at the school. His little index finger showed the direction of the school.

She stood up and saw the school building. The fire was put out and the whole building looked like an ugly man smoking like a chimney pipe. The school was painted in black, as if to have engulfed death on itself. She dreaded walking in. She made her way into the school in spite of people stopping her at the gate. In search of Kannu. Her daughter who misunderstood her love. She covered her nose with her saree as she walked in. Bodies were strewn all over. Kids aged eight to ten years lay there like burnt roses. She stepped one body over the other in search of her daughter. She kept telling herself that her daughter was waiting outside for her to come back after this ordeal. She walked into Kannu’s classroom and did not find her there. She did not recognize few faces but her heart knew she was not there.

She walked down the same narrow passage where Kannu had earlier run along with the other kids. As she decided to step out of the school again, she was reminded of the bag that thambi had while he saw him outside. It was Kannu’s. She quickly ran towards thambi’s classroom, beating her hands over her chest. She knew Kannu was there. She wanted her to be alive. She stepped into his classroom and looked around. There was only one body among the charred tables. Kannu. Beside her were traces of the burnt and tattered bag of thambi’s.

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*** Amma (mother), appa (father), thambi (younger brother), kolam (dotted ranagoli generally drawn outside the house using rice powder), thinnai (raised platform outside the house, generally beside the steps or either side of the steps)

------------------------------*------------------------------

Disclaimer: The germ of this story was instilled on my mind 4 years ago when I saw the live footage and pictures of the Kumbakonam Fire tragedy on July 16, 2004. I froze watching the footage. Although the story is based on the tragedy, the characters are purely fictional. This story is for those kids who perished for no fault of theirs. God bless their families who might still be reeling under the loss of their loved ones.

------------------------------*------------------------------

More on the tragedy: Eighty-three children aged between eight and ten years were on Friday charred to death, 20 of them beyond recognition, while over 27 others received serious burns when a major fire raged through their school in this town of Tamil Nadu's Thanjavur district.

The dead included 28 boys, 38 girls and the bodies of others were charred beyond recognition....

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/in_pictures/3900631.stm
http://in.rediff.com/news/2004/jul/16tn.htm
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/south_asia/3899971.stm
http://www.nytimes.com/2004/07/18/international/asia/18INDI.html?ex=1247803200&en=fd0d8ce20b93a7e8&ei=5090&partner=rssuserland
http://www.chinadaily.com.cn/english/doc/2004-07/17/content_349354.htm

Green, Yellow, Red, the journey ahead...

A thoughtful story i read somewhere in the blogosphere....

It had been years since Siddarth took a local train back home. He had forgotten the counter at which to get a ticket, the platform to board. Everyone around him seemed to be hurrying up either out of the station or rushing to catch a train. Siddarth stood there with a ticket in his hand and staring at the display board. He finally spotted the train that would take him to his destination. His car had crashed and he dreaded taking a bus. He did not want to hang out of a crowded bus with his laptop bag and a blackberry in his pocket. He was sure a catch if he were ever robbed. He knew an auto rickshaw will cost him a lot that he could save it up for the petrol for his car. His calculative mind finally decided to take the train.

He stood at the platform looking at either side, not realizing which side the train was about to arrive. He held his laptop bag close to him and studied the watch every now and then. Everyone around him seemed to have a life that was the same, day after day. Nobody looked as anticipated as Siddarth. Nobody kept looking at the empty tracks or the train that never arrived. He was worried, not about the delay in train, but the crowd that he will have to wade through and find a place to perch. To safeguard his belongings. To get off without a crumpled shirt or someone else’s sweat all over him. He dreaded the feeling. For a moment he thought he would toss the ticket on the tracks and hire an auto rickshaw outside the station. Before he could make up his mind, the train arrived and even before he could realize, there were more people from nowhere who were thronging towards the train. All Siddarth had to do was stay close to the crowd. In few seconds he was inside the train and luckily the train was not as crowded as he had imagined. It almost seemed empty all of a sudden. He held the bar above his head as the train moved. His other hand was tightly pressed against the laptop bag. His journey home began with not much fanfare. At the next station he was able to find a place to sit beside the window. He immediately placed his laptop bag beside him so that nobody else would sit in that little space in between him and the little guy who sat next to him.

The next station was the most crowded and Siddarth did not even want to look out to see the crowd. He was happy to have found the place because his destination was the last in that trip. He kept staring at the empty tracks outside the window. It was dark and he could hardly see anything. His train began his journey again and the darkness outside was now moving.

Someone nudged his bag and he looked up to see a man standing next to him. He did not tell anything, but looked at the bag as if signaling to move it. Siddarth did not budge. He looked out of the window again and just before he was supposed to be lost in his thoughts, the man lifted his bag and sat down in that little space in between Siddarth and the little guy. Siddarth immediately pulled his bag close to him and placed it on his lap. The man must have been in his early thirties. He was wearing a white shirt and a white trouser and black shoes. He looked run down. Maybe he was drunk. Siddarth was not feeling at ease. He smelled liquor on the man, but it was just Siddarth’s imagination.

The journey resumed in silence, but not for too long.

“Comfortable?” the man asked Siddarth.

Siddarth nodded his head and turned away to look into the darkness outside the train.

“Stocks?” the man asked.

“What?”

“Are you a stock broker?” the man asked.

Siddarth in a noticeably irritated tone, “No! Software engineer”

“Ah!” the man said as if to be judgmental.

It irked Siddarth and wanted to know what that “Ah!” meant. Siddarth looked at the man and read his face. It was not a happy face. The man looked tired. “Maybe that is how I look too” Siddarth thought to himself.

“Tiring day nah?” the man asked.

Siddarth decided to remain silent. He looked beyond the man and looked at the little boy who sat in silence.

“The traffic was terrible today. I was late” the man said.

Siddarth was sure that the man was not drunk but he was freaking him out. What if he was a psycho? What if he threatened him with a knife and snatched away his belongings?

“Ye..yes” Siddarth said as if he was unsure.

There was silence again.

“You know, sometimes it is very difficult to get to your destination on time. A life depends on your timing. But…” the man went into a thoughtful silence.

Siddarth looked at the man and saw tears brimming in his eyes. The man looked at the little boy who was still lost in his own world of silence.

Siddarth was hesitant to start a conversation with a man who had already freaked him out enough.

“but… people do not understand. It is the !@#$%^& traffic”, the man was now abusing the traffic and the drivers on the road.

“Who are you? A cab driver?” Siddarth asked and then thought to himself if he really wanted to prolong a conversation with a verbally abusive man.

“I’m an ambulance driver” he said.

“Ah!” Siddarth said in a judgmental tone. This time the man looked at Siddarth wanting to know the meaning of his “Ah!”.

“It is a very difficult job” the man said.

“In the traffic, next to a VIP’s convoy, it is the ambulance that gets more attention and space” Siddarth said as if the ambulance drivers were the privileged ones on the road.

“Wrong. Your perspective is wrong. I would not blame the people on the road. But on a rush hour, where is the space for an ambulance to wade through hundreds of vehicles in this city?”

“But people do respect the emergency of the people inside the ambulance and you cannot blame them at all. Even if someone wants to get home really quick, they still take a chance to leave way for the ambulance” Siddarth said in a defensive tone.

“I respect the people on the road. They pave way. Sometimes I think they are God. There are some who just follow an ambulance so that they can reach their destination quicker with the little space that an ambulance gets as a privileged vehicle on the road”

“Oh yea, I cannot deny that. What sad lives those people should have to follow the emergency of an ambulance just because they can move out of the traffic themselves”

“It is not an easy job. Very stressful. Everyday, some part of the city, someone is crying for a life. I can still hear cries of the people inside my ambulance. It is all about emergency.”

Siddarth was all of compassion for this man now. He decided to remain silent and listen to this stranger in the train.

“Sometimes I reach on time. I save a life. I save a life because I was fast, because the traffic let me move, because someone would have prayed in the road that the person inside the ambulance should live long, because the people around the patient inside the ambulance cried so loud that I just rushed on time, because there is God!” the man ranted.

“Sometimes I fail. I would not be able to help. The patient would have died even before we reached the hospital. The patient would have died just after reaching the hospital. Sometimes I blame myself that I could have been a little faster. Maybe the traffic could have been more controlled. Sometimes, during the rush hour it is chaotic and a huge ambulance does not have the space to move at all. Those are times when I really had thoughts of quitting the job.”

“You sure are a brave man” Siddarth said as if it would be consoling.

“I think so. I was a brave man. I saved lives. There were times when people would run back to me and hug me and tell me that they had saved their parents, their kids, their grand dad. They would give me money. I have also faced the wrath of the family members if someone died before we reached the hospital. They would think I was the one who killed the patient. It was not the traffic. It was not the condition of the patient. It was just me. Initially it hurt me. I got used to it later. Now I know it is part of my job. I try. I do not give up”

“People at the traffic too have their own responsibility” Siddarth said.

“Not all know about it. Tell me, you too drive your car don’t you. During those peak hours, honking like crazy, talking over the phone…” the man said. He folded his hands and waited for Siddarth to speak.

“Yes, but that has become the way of life. I used to take the train earlier when I was at college. Then when I got to work, I took my office bus. Then I had a bike. As I walked up the corporate ladder, I kept changing my mode of transportation too” Siddarth said.

“Signs of prosperity”

“Precisely” Siddarth snapped. He did not like that part of the conversation.

“A selfish self-obsessed software engineer who cannot think beyond the US dollars, an apartment, the monthly EMIs, sophisticated cars, bank balance, client meetings, sub-ordinates who report…” the man went on.

Siddarth did not stop him. Here was a man who summarized Siddarth’s life in just about 15 minutes.

“… weekends at the beach. Or maybe to a 2 hours movie, but the time you spend to get to the theater is more than the movie time itself. Annual vacation outside the country. Frequent business travels….”

“and?” Siddarth now smiled at the man.

“It is like a race right?”

“Yes!” Siddarth said in an affirmative tone.

“Sad life right?”

Siddarth smiled and looked out of the window. It was still dark and he had not realized how many stations had passed by then.

“So what is a happy life according to you?” Siddarth asked the man.

“I don’t know. I cannot define it. I save a life. I’m happy. I don’t get there on time and help save a life, I’m still happy, because I tried. Although mine is a simple life, it is still a race. A race to save someone else’s life. A race literally on the road, to beat everyone on the road, to wade through the traffic and reach there on time. Just that I race for others, not my own.”

“Hmm… makes sense. I race for myself. For those luxuries in life. My clients who would not understand the delays at work, but I race for myself so that I can save my ass from firing. I run from home to work during the wee hours to just catch up on a video conference. End of the day, I just save my work. My life”

“We almost lived the same life. I save lives by driving them to their safety zone. You race to get yourself to the safety zone.”

“You think it won’t continue anymore?” Siddarth asked.

The man smiled at Siddarth with a raised eyebrow.

Silence fell upon their journey again. After a while Siddarth turned around to see the man ruffling the hair of the little boy who was seated next to him.

The man looked at Siddarth.

“This little boy was on my ambulance. I tried very hard. I raced through the rush hour madness. The traffic was notorious.”

“Oh! He is safe now. You must have done a brilliant job. But how come you both are on this train now”

“I still can hear his mother’s shrill cries. I was not able to concentrate on my driving. It was as if my mind had already departed. I wanted this boy to live. To reach the hospital before he gave up. Just as I was close to the hospital, this little boy gave up. His last breath was in my ambulance and his mother cried aloud. I lost my control and the ambulance ran over the pavement and toppled over a few times. The red siren was all that remained of the ambulance. It kept raising the alarm until people came running for help. The same red siren, that helped me save many lives, didn’t help my life”

Siddarth’s face drained. He was motionless and kept listening to the man.

“I saw someone pull out this boy’s mother. She seemed to be walking. They put her in an auto rickshaw and I saw it disappear into the cloud of dust. I saw someone run to me. I saw more people running towards me. I closed my eyes. I was in pain. I gave up too”

Siddarth closed his eyes for a moment to recollect what had really happened.

He was rushing to his office as he had a videoconference with his client. He was on the phone giving instructions to his subordinates on what needs to be completed before the conference call. As he had taken a quick left, he saw a flash of light hit him. Before he could realize he saw an ambulance roll by his side and he was rolling inside his car the other way. He remembered seeing a woman being pulled out of the ambulance. He remembered someone running towards him. He remembered jetting out of the door himself. He was in pain and he gave up. He fell flat on this face, his laptop bag still hugging to him and his communicator was still on.

Siddarth opened his eyes quickly and looked out of the window. There was still darkness outside. The darkness will never cease. He turned around to look at the man and the little boy. They were lost in silence. A long journey was ahead.

Don't Give Up !! The more you take in the more you are shaped up !!!

There was this museum laid with beautiful marble tiles, with a huge marble statue displayed in the middle of the lobby. Many people came from all over the world just to admire this beautiful marble statue.

One night, the marble tiles started talking to the marble statue. Marble tile: "Marble statue, it's just not fair, it's just not fair! why does everybody from all over the world come all the way here just to step on me while admiring you? Not fair!".

Marble statue: "My dear friend, marble tile. Do you still remember that we were actually from the same cave?"

Marble tile: "Yeah! That's why I feel it is even more unfair. We were born from the same cave and yet we receive different treatment now. Not fair!" he cried again.

Marble statue: "Then, do you still remember the day when the designer tried to work on you, but you resisted the tools?"

Marble tile: "Yes, of course I remember. I hate that guy! How could he use those tools on me, it hurt so badly.".

Marble statue: "That's right! He couldn't work on you at all as you resisted being worked on."

Marble tile: "So???"

Marble statue: "When he decided to give up on you and start working on me instead, I knew at once that I would be something different after his efforts. I did not resist his tools, instead I bore all the painful tools he used on me.."

Marble tile: "Mmmmmm......."

Marble statue: "My friend, there is a price to everything in life. Since you decided to give up half way, you can't blame anybody who steps on you now."

If you can't hop out, keep swimming around!

Two frogs fell into a deep cream bowl.
One was an optimistic soul.
But the other took the gloomy view.
"We'll drown," he lamented without much ado,
and with a last despairing cry,
he flung up his legs and said "Goodbye."

Quote the other frog with a steadfast grin,
"I can't get out but I won't give in,
I'll just swim around till my strength is spent,
then I'll die the more content."
Bravely he swam to work his scheme,
and his struggles began to churn the cream.

The more he swam, his legs a flutter,
the more the cream turned into butter.
On top of the butter at last he stopped,
and out of the bowl he gaily hopped.

What is the moral? It's easily found...
If you can't hop out, keep swimming around!

The Duck and the Devil

There was a little boy visiting his grandparents on their farm.
He was given a slingshot to play with out in the woods. He practiced in the woods, but he could never hit the target.
Getting A little discouraged, he headed back for dinner. As he was walking back he saw Grandma's pet duck.
Just out of impulse, he let the slingshot fly, hit the duck Square in the head, and killed it. He was shocked and grieved.
In a panic, he hid the dead duck in the wood pile, only to see His sister watching! Sally had seen it all, but she said nothing.
After lunch the next day Grandma said, "Sally, let's wash the Dishes." But Sally said, "Grandma, Johnny told me he wanted to help in the kitchen."
Then she whispered to him, "Remember the duck?" So Johnny did the dishes.
Later that day, Grandpa asked if the children wanted to go Fishing and Grandma said, "I'm sorry but I need Sally to help make Supper."
Sally just smiled and said," Well that's all right because Johnny told Me he wanted to help." She whispered again, "Remember the duck?" So Sally Went fishing and Johnny stayed to help.

After several days of Johnny doing both his chores and Sally's, He finally couldn't stand it any longer. He came to Grandma and confessed that he had killed the duck.
Grandma knelt down, gave him a hug, and said, "Sweetheart, I know. You see, I was standing at the window and I saw the whole thing, but because I love you, I forgave you. I was just wondering how long You would let Sally make a slave of you."
Thought for the day and every day thereafter?
Whatever is in your past, whatever you have done... And the devil Keeps throwing it up in your face (lying, cheating, debt, fear, bad Habits, hatred, anger, bitterness, etc.) ....whatever it is....You need to know that God was standing at the window and He saw the whole thing..... He has seen your whole life.

He wants you to know that He loves you and that you are forgiven.
He's just wondering how long you will let the devil make a slave of you.
The great thing about God is that when you ask for forgiveness, He Not only forgives you, but He forgets. It is by God's grace and Mercy that we are saved.
Go ahead and make the difference in someone's life today. Share this with a friend and always remember: God is at the window.

Some Words...

I have long way to go, but at least I am going !!!

The gem cannot be polished without friction, nor man perfected without trials.

Feeling happy - Musings !!!

What does it take to make anyone feel happy ???

Not loads of money, or not lots of great things, and certainly not the pleasures we kneel for. Its more than often just small simple things that make you happy

I feel very happy and my face automatically lights up

When I see a small kid - color, creed, caste, religion definetly no bar - when it smiles its innocent smile, the whole world turns to be very bright.
When I see a dog frolicking around
When I see on stage the coparticipants smile at one another sharing some private joke - it shows how much they are part of a team
When I see a flower opening up its petal
When I feel the rain falling down on me
When I feel the wind on my face
When I see a friend
When I see a good deed done by any one
Like this I can go on, it is not something is special about me, for every one all simple matters also make them feel happy, but they dont realise that, they think and feel that only big events or great things bring out happiness.

I am blessed tobe born as what I am. I am thankful to the Lord for giving me all things I want, wanted and may be wanting and not giving me those things that I dont deserve. yes at times, I have felt that God has let me down, when what I have prayed for hasnt been granted. But is only later that I realise that God has only taken care of me. I feel very special because I am beign taken care of in a very soft manner. Even in the worst times of my life, He has handled me a delicate flower, protecting me all the time, making life bearable or giving me the strength to bear the toughest challenge and come victorious out of that situation. I am truly grateful to him for always keeping me in his palm and taking care of me in a very special way.

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.

Worth of Milk

Kindness Pays...

One day, a poor boy who was selling goods from door to door to pay hisway through school, found he had only one thin dime left, and he was hungry. He decided he would ask for a meal at the next house. However, he lost his nerve when a lovely young woman opened the door.

Instead of a meal he asked for a drink of water. She thought he looked hungry, so she brought him a large glass of milk. He drank it slowly, and then asked, "How much do I owe you?""You don't owe me anything," she replied "Mother has taught us never to accept payment for a kindness."

He said... "Then I thank you from my heart."

As he left that house, he not only felt stronger physically,but his faith in God and man was strong also.

Years later that young woman became critically ill. The local doctors were baffled. They finally sent her to the big city, where they called in specialists to study her rare disease. Dr.Howard Kelly was called in for the consultation. When he heard the name of the town she came from, a strange light filled his eyes. Immediately he rose and went down the hall of the hospital to her room.Dressed in his doctor's gown he went in to see her.

He went back to the consultation room determined to do his best to save her life. From that day he gave special attention to the case.After a long struggle, the battle was won. Dr. Kelly requested the business office to pass the final bill to him for approval.

He looked at it, then wrote something on the edge and the bill was sent to her room.She feared to open it, for she was sure it would take the rest of her life to pay for it all. Finally, she looked, and something caught ; her attention on the side as she read these words..... "Paid in full with one glass of milk." (Signed) Dr.Howard Kelly.Tears of joy flooded her eyes as her happy heart prayed: "Thank You, GOD, that Your love has spread through human hearts and hands."

Of files, handshakes and office table drawers.

199What seems – never is! Maybe that is why India has earned so many accolades as the corruption capital of the world – okay Transparency Internationals Global Corruption Barometer puts India as the 70th most corrupt nation. Not very encouraging when India is near the bottom half of this list while dreaming of becoming a global super power. But the good thing about this whole thing is that it not only indicates that Indians are very creative, but also very adaptable (look at the country's history) – Darwin would be proud.

Consider the situation of the office of an Indian File Pusher (IFP) – it has a large desk, a chair behind it which is draped with a towel. The wall behind the chair may have a photo of Mahatma Gandhi, the President and the politician in power. There will be a large calendar to keep the IFP up-to-date. The office may have a small shrine with the deity of the IFP.

The desk is unique, on one side two plastic trays (in and out) carry the hopes of millions, while the other has a pen stand with a myriad variety of pens. There may be paper weights on the desk, but these are going out of fashion as air conditioners become the norm. A lidded glass of water stands as a sentinel close by. The desk has drawers on the side where the IFP sits – usually empty.

The drawer serves another purpose. It’s the unofficial collection box. This is what happens - someone comes with an urgent file, the person stands at the side of the IFP in deference while the IFP peruses the file. Some questions are asked which are answered vaguely. As the file is signed the person puts his hand into his pocket and in one deft movement drops a packet of notes into the drawer. This happened in front of me.

Consider the same IFP in a similar office. A file is brought to him - he opens it and out slips a little packet of notes into his lap. The file is quickly dealt with and then the offending packet is delicately put into the draw for later retrieval.

The handshake was always been a form of communication, communicating a greeting, a promise- okay it was also a way to pass information, you know, a crowded station two men in trench courts pass each other under the benevolent eye of clueless cops and as the two men pass one hand slips the other a vital piece of information that saves the world and kills one of them.

In India this has been modified into an art that ensures both parties not only survive but thrive. The parties in such situation are the cops (traffic species in particular) on one side and erring drivers on the other.

The traffic police usually work in teams they operate either from a motorbike or a jeep. What happens is that the lackey does the scouting while the senior person finds a comfortable spot on the parked bike or jeep and waits. The flunky sifts the wheat from the chaff and the manna begins pouring in.

This is how – the lackey flags down an erring vehicle and the first thing that he does is grab the ignition keys. Then he asks for documents from the erring driver and then goes to his boss who is sitting noncommittally on his vehicle – salivating. The boss looks at the documents shakes his head and takes out a form and begins filling it in all seriousness. This performance gives him a black and white picture of what is coming next court visits, vehicle impounded, sheaves of notes flying from his wallet into the hands of the government. The lackey sees these thoughts in Eastman Colour. He takes the erring waif aside provides a solution which is simple and suits everyone. No court, no impounding, no sheaves of money entering government coffers, just a little private monetary transaction.

The erring driver moves a little away and then pulls out his purse takes and out the suggested amount. He folds it into a very tiny innocuous piece of paper that fits neatly in the palm of his hand. The lackey hands over the documents to the driver and in grateful thanks he shakes hands with the lackey and thus passes the money. The lackey puts his hand into his pocket and saunters back to his boss. This process is followed till its time to go home (or the closest bar).

And so that is how Indians have gone ahead and improved and even improvised on age old traditions, they have found new uses for things to ensure that there is a win-win situation.

Indians have added an addendum to Darwin's theory – a win-win situation ensures that everyone thrives.