Parenting trees

Heard about Salumarada Thimmakka today. What a great, noble lady!

A whole nation, considered to be the richest in the world, does not agree to sign the Kyoto Protocol. And then, there is Thimmakka, who doesnt even have a ration card to fend for herself, and perhaps no clue as to what Kyoto Protocol is all about, went about the Bangalore-Nelamangala National Highway and planted so many trees that she didnt even bother counting! Not only has this made the Highway a beautiful picturesque tree-and-birds filled road, but also contributed significantly, in its own way, to counter the Global Warming. Such is her dedication now towards environment that, when asked, she told that she would like to be reborn as a tree!

It is people like her that make this World a better place to live...

One of the best Ads...

Check this out...

True Stories Picturised

Below are some of the most stimulating true story movies that I have ever seen:

Schindler's list
Cidade De Deus (City of God)
Cinderella Man
Patch Adams
Something That Lord Made
World Trade Center
Rabbit-Proof Fence
Hotel Rwanda
Men of Honor
Open Water
Walk the line
October sky
The Straight story
Glory Road
The World's Fastest Indian

Over 1500 lives saved!

An act of bravery.
An act of desperation.
An act of thoughtfulness.

An act that saved more than 1500 lives...

Early teen

I read this once. And it got stuck in me. It just emphasised my belief about how important it is to learn as many things as possible in early teen, which inevitably will lead to a good stead in future.

Extract:
Once upon a time, I had a very hectic schedule for the day: Get up early, 6-7 swimming. Next,music class. 9 am to 4 pm school. Come home, badminton practise, 6-7 private lessons, 7-8 homework :(. Do yoga, painting, cycling, roller skate whenever I feel like doing.
Ufff!!! It was hectic !!!

There are companies and there’s Infosys….

Source: Email Forward. Diary of an Infoscion.

Sep. 6, 2006 – London calling: I landed at the big daddy of all airports, Heathrow, with the biggest suitcase in terminal 2. I was looking forward to devouring the grandeur of London and everything that a London life could offer for the next six months.

Oct. 12, 2006 – Destruction strikes: After a hectic month packed with meetings, learning and project parties that I never wanted to end, at a moment when I least expected, I had a silent stroke early in the morning.

Oct. 12 2006 – Biding time: Hoping what I was suffering from was just a normal headache, I bided my time, waiting for the pain to subside. But with the situation getting worse by noon, I picked up the phone to make the much dreaded phone call to my boss and tell him that I was not well and would have to get back home. I knew how much it meant to execute a project to perfection, and to completion.

Oct. 12 2006 – Faith and understanding: While I was expecting my boss to be perplexed and displeased at the situation, he told me, “Geetha, I am sorry to know you are not well, I want you to come back home to India at once. I am asking the London office to provide you with all the help you need till you board the flight. Call me the minute you reach home so that I know you have reached safely.”

Oct. 13 2006 – An Angel rode with me: A good Samaritan from Infosys picked me at home and rode with me all the way to Heathrow, got my flight tickets upgraded (which I’m normally not eligible for) and instructed the attendants to ensure that I’m taken care of and provided with all the necessary in-flight medical support.

There are companies and there’s Infosys….

This incident made me realize that it’s not the biggest perks and fat pay packs that matter, but the little acts of kindness shown in times of need that make a company worth working with. At Infosys my salary may fluctuate based on our profits, but I know that the emotional bank account never fluctuates.

Human Trafficking

The Story and The Organisation.

Source: An Email Forward

The Horseman

A long time ago, there was an Emperor who told his horseman that if he could ride on his horse and cover as much land area as he likes, then the Emperor would give him the area of land he has covered.

Sure enough, the horseman quickly jumped onto his horse and rode as fast as possible to cover as much land area as he could. He kept on riding and riding, whipping the horse to go as fast as possible. When he was hungry or tired, he did not stop because he wanted to cover as much area as possible.

Came to a point when he had covered a substantial area but he was exhausted and was dying. Then he asked himself, "Why did I push myself so hard to cover so much land area? Now I am dying and I only need a very small area to bury myself."

Source: An Email Forward

Sudha Murthy & Tata

I have read this forward n times.
If I receive it (n+1)th time, I will still read it completely.

It was probably the April of 1974. Bangalore was getting warm and gulmohars were blooming at the IISc campus. I was the only girl in my postgraduate department and was staying at the ladies' hostel. Other girls were pursuing research in different departments of Science.

I was looking forward to going abroad to complete a doctorate in computer science. I had been offered scholarships from Universities in the US . I had not thought of taking up a job in India. One day, while on the way to my hostel from our lecture-hall complex, I saw an advertisement on the notice board. It was a standard job-requirement notice from the famous automobile
company Telco (now Tata Motors). It stated that the company required young, bright engineers, hardworking and with an excellent academic background, etc.At the bottom was a small line: "Lady candidates need not apply."

I read it and was very upset. For the first time in my life I was up against gender discrimination.

Though I was not keen on taking up the job, I saw it as a challenge. I had done extremely well in academics, better than most of my male peers.

Little did I know then that in real life academic excellence is not enough to be successful.

After reading the notice I went fuming to my room. I decided to inform the topmost person in Telco's management about the injustice the company was perpetrating. I got a postcard and started to write, but there was a problem:
I did not know who headed Telco.

I thought it must be one of the Tatas. I knew JRD Tata was the head of the Tata Group; I had seen his pictures in newspapers (actually, Sumant Moolgaokar was the company's chairman then). I took the card, addressed it to JRD and started writing. To this day I remember clearly what I wrote.

"The great Tatas have always been pioneers. They are the people who started the basic infrastructure industries in India , such as iron and steel, chemicals, textiles and locomotives. They have cared for higher education in India since 1900 and they were responsible for the establishment of the Indian Institute of Science. Fortunately, I study there. But I am surprised how a company such as Telco is discriminating on the basis of gender."

I posted the letter and forgot about it. Less than 10 days later, I received a telegram stating that I had to appear for an interview at Telco's Pune facility at the company's expense. I was taken aback by the telegram. My hostel mate told me I should use the opportunity to go to Pune free of cost and buy them the famous Pune saris for cheap! I collected Rs 30 each from everyone who wanted a sari. When I look back, I feel like laughing at the reasons for my going, but back then they seemed good enough to make the trip.

It was my first visit to Pune and I immediately fell in love with the city.
To this day it remains dear to me. I feel as much at home in Pune as I do in Hubli, my hometown. The place changed my life in so many ways. As directed, I went to Telco's Pimpri office for the interview.

There were six people on the panel and I realised then that this was serious business.

"This is the girl who wrote to JRD," I heard somebody whisper as soon as I entered the room. By then I knew for sure that I would not get the job.

The realisation abolished all fear from my mind, so I was rather cool while the interview was being conducted.

Even before the interview started, I reckoned the panel was biased, so I told them, rather impolitely, "I hope this is only a technical interview."

They were taken aback by my rudeness, and even today I am ashamed about my attitude. The panel asked me technical questions and I answered all of them.

Then an elderly gentleman with an affectionate voice told me, "Do you know why we said lady candidates need not apply? The reason is that we have never employed any ladies on the shop floor. This is not a co-ed college; this is a factory. When it comes to academics, you are a first ranker throughout. We
appreciate that, but people like you should work in research laboratories."

I was a young girl from small-town Hubli. My world had been a limited place. I did not know the ways of large corporate houses and their difficulties, so I answered, "But you must start somewhere, otherwise no woman will ever be able to work in your factories."

Finally, after a long interview, I was told I had been successful. So this was what the future had in store for me. Never had I thought I would take up a job in Pune. I met a shy young man from Karnataka there, we became good friends and we got married.

It was only after joining Telco that I realized who JRD was: the uncrowned king of Indian industry. Now I was scared, but I did not get to meet him till I was transferred to Bombay . One day I had to show some reports to Mr Moolgaokar, our chairman, who we all knew as SM. I was in his office on the first floor of Bombay House (the Tata headquarters) when, suddenly JRD walked in. That was the first time I saw "appro JRD". Appro means "our" in Gujarati. This was the affectionate term by whichpeople at Bombay House called him.

I was feeling very nervous, remembering my postcard episode. SM introduced me nicely, "Jeh (that's what his close associates called him), this young woman is an engineer and that too a postgraduate.

She is the first woman to work on the Telco shop floor." JRD looked at me. I was praying he would not ask me any questions about my interview (or the postcard that preceded it).

Thankfully, he didn't. Instead, he remarked. "It is nice that girls are getting into engineering in our country. By the way, what is your name?"

"When I joined Telco I was Sudha Kulkarni, Sir," I replied. "Now I am Sudha Murthy." He smiled and kindly smile and started a discussion with SM. As for me, I almost ran out of the room.

After that I used to see JRD on and off. He was the Tata Group chairman and I was merely an engineer. There was nothing that we had in common. I was in awe of him.

One day I was waiting for Murthy, my husband, to pick me up after office hours. To my surprise I saw JRD standing next to me. I did not know how to react. Yet again I started worrying about that postcard. Looking back, I realise JRD had forgotten about it. It must have been a small incident for him, but not so for me.

"Young lady, why are you here?" he asked. "Office time is over." I said, "Sir, I'm waiting for my husband to come and pick me up." JRD said, "It is getting dark and there's no one in the corridor.

I'll wait with you till your husband comes."

I was quite used to waiting for Murthy, but having JRD waiting alongside made me extremely uncomfortable.

I was nervous. Out of the corner of my eye I looked at him. He wore a simple white pant and shirt. He was old, yet his face was glowing. There wasn't any air of superiority about him. I was thinking, "Look at this person. He is a chairman, a well-respected man in our country and he is waiting for the sake of an ordinary employee."

Then I saw Murthy and I rushed out. JRD called and said, "Young lady, tell your husband never to make his wife wait again." In 1982 I had to resign from my job at Telco. I was reluctant to go, but I really did not have a choice. I was coming down the steps of Bombay House after wrapping up my final settlement when I saw JRD coming up. He was absorbed in thought. I wanted to say goodbye to him, so I stopped. He saw me and paused.

Gently, he said, "So what are you doing, Mrs Kulkarni?" (That was the way he always addressed me.) "Sir, I am leaving Telco."

"Where are you going?" he asked. "Pune, Sir. My husband is starting a company called Infosys and I'm shifting to Pune."

"Oh! And what will you do when you are successful."

"Sir, I don't know whether we will be successful." "Never start with diffidence," he advised me. "Always start with confidence. When you are successful you must give back to society. Society gives us so much; we must reciprocate. I wish you all the best."

Then JRD continued walking up the stairs. I stood there for what seemed like a millennium. That was the last time I saw him alive. Many years later I met Ratan Tata in the same Bombay House, occupying the chair JRD once did. I told him of my many sweet memories of working with Telco.

Later, he wrote to me, "It was nice hearing about Jeh from you. The sad part is that he's not alive to see you today."

I consider JRD a great man because, despite being an extremely busy person, he valued one postcard written by a young girl seeking justice. He must have received thousands of letters everyday. He could have thrown mine away, but he didn't do that. He respected the intentions of that unknown girl, who had neither influence nor money, and gave her an opportunity in his company. He did not merely give her a job; he changed her life and mindset forever.

Close to 50 per cent of the students in today's engineering colleges are girls. And there are women on the shop floor in many industry segments. I see these changes and I think of JRD. If at all time stops and asks me what I want from life, I would say I wish JRD were alive today to see how the company we started has grown. He would have enjoyed it wholeheartedly.

My love and respect for the House of Tata remains undiminished by the passage of time. I always looked up to JRD. I saw him as a role model for his simplicity, his generosity, his kindness and the care he took of his employees. Those blue eyes always reminded me of the sky; they had the same vastness and magnificence.

*Sudha Murthy is a widely published writer and chairperson of the Infosys Foundation involved in a number of social development initiatives. Infosys chairman Narayana Murthy is her husband.

Starfish

Many starfish washed up on shore.

A saintly man started picking them up and throwing them back into the ocean.

Someone saw what he was doing and told him that it was pointless, that there were too many to save, that it wouldn't make a difference.

Throwing another starfish into the sea, the saintly man responded, "It makes a difference to this one".

Source: http://www.vidyavikas.org/

Bad God

Nature is our enemy. We must always fight against Nature, for she is continually bringing us back to an animal state. You may be sure that God has not put anything on this earth that is clean, pretty, elegant, or accessory to our ideal, but the human brain has done it. It is we who have introduced a little grace, beauty, unknown charm, and mystery into creation by singing about it, interpreting it, by admiring it as poets, idealizing it as artists, and by explaining it as learned men who make mistakes, who find ingenious reasons, some grace and some beauty, some unknown charm and mystery in the various phenomena of Nature.

God only created coarse things, full of the germs of disease, and who, after a few years of bestial enjoyment, grow old and infirm, with all the ugliness and all the want of power of human decrepitude. He only seems to have made them in order that they may reproduce their species in a repulsive manner, and then die like ephemeral insects. What is there, as a matter of fact, more ignoble and more repugnant than that ridiculous act of the reproduction of living beings, against which all delicate minds always have revolted, and always will revolt? Since all the organs which have been invented by this economical and malicious Creator serve 2 purposes, why did he not choose those that were unsullied, n order to intrust them with that sacred mission, which is the noblest and the most exalted of all human functions? The mouth which nourishes the body by means of material food, also diffuses abroad speech and thought. Our flesh revives itself by means of itself, and at the same time, ideas are communicated by it. The sense of smell, which gives the vial air to the lungs, imparts all the perfumes of the world to the brain. The ear which enables us to communicate with our fellowmen, has also allowed us to invent music, to create dreams, happiness, the infinite, and even physical pleasure, by means of sound!

But one might say that the Creator wished to prohibit man from ever ennobling and idealizing his commerce with women. Nevertheless, man has found love, which is not a bad reply to that sly Deity, and he has ornamented it so much with literary poetry, that woman often forgets the contact she is obliged to submit to. Those among us who are powerless to deceive themselves have invented vice and refined debauchery, which is another way of laughing at God, and of paying homage, immodest homage, to beauty.

But the normal man makes children; just a beast that is coupled with another by law. Is it not abominable to think that such a jewel of a lady, such a pearl, to be beautiful, admired, feted, and adored, spends prime time of her life in providing heirs? God intended her to life in a cave naked, or wrapped up in the skins of wild animals, but is she not better the way she is? All her youth, all her beauty, every hope of success, every poetical idea of a bright life, sacrificed to that abominable law of reproduction which turns the normal woman into a mere machine for maternity. A woman of such beauty should be dancing with enthusiasm, with passion, intoxicated with pleasure, thinking of nothing, in the triumph of her beauty, in the glory of her success, in a kind of cloud of happiness that comes with the homage, and all the admiration, of all those awakened desires, and the victory so complete and sweet to the heart of a woman.

God is an enormous creative organ unknown to us, who scatters millions of worlds into space, just as one single fish would deposit its spawn in the sea. He creates, because it is His function as God to do so, but He does not know what He is doing, and is stupidly prolific in His work, and is ignorant of the combinations, of all kinds which are produced by His scattered germs. Human thought is a lucky little local, passing accident, which was totally unforeseen, and is condemned to disappear with this earth, and to recommence perhaps here or elsewhere, the same or different, with fresh combinations of eternally new beginnings. We owe it to this slight accident which has happened to His intellect, that we are very uncomfortable in this worlds, which was not made for us, which had not been prepared to receive us, to lodge and feed us, or to satisfy reflecting beings, and we owe it t Him also that we have to struggle without ceasing against what we still called the designs of Providence, when we are really refined and civilized beings.

Providence destined us human beings to live naked, in caves or under trees, nourished on the flesh of slaughtered animals, our brethren, or raw vegetables nourished by sun and the moon. But, it is sufficient to understand that this world was not made for such creatures as we are. Thought, which is developed by a miracle in the nerves of the cells and our brain, powerless, ignorant, and confused as it is, and as it will always remain, makes all of us who are intellectual beings eternal and wretched exiles on earth.

Look at this earth, as God has given it to those who inhabit it. Is it not visibly and solely made, planted and converted with forests, for the sake of animals? What is there for us? Nothing. And for them? Everything. They have nothing to do but to eat, or go hunting and eat each other, according to their instincts, for God never foresaw gentleness and peaceable manners; he only foresaw the death of creatures which were bent on destroying and devouring each other. Are not the quail, the pigeon, and the partridge the natural prey of the hawk?

As to ourselves, the more civilized, intellectual, and refined we are, the more we ought to conquer and subdue that animal instinct, which represents the will of God in us. And so, in order to mitigate our lot as brutes, we have discovered and made everything, beginning with houses, then exquisite food, sauces, sweetmeats, pastry, drink, clothes, ornaments, beds, carriages, railways and innumerable machines, besides arts and sciences, writing and poetry. Every ideal comes from us as well as the amenities of life, in order to make our existence as simple reproducers, for which divine Providence solely intended us, less monotonous and less hard.

Extract: Guy De Maupassant’s short story Useless Beauty.

The Man who moved a Mountain

Had read this on the Times of India.
But the story kept haunting me.
And it seemed just too incredible for me not to post it.
Found on the net here.

I bow down to Dashrath Manjhi in awe...

Racism

Source: A commonly forwarded Email

The following scene took place on a BA flight between Johannesburg and London. This is a true story.

A White woman, about 50 years old, was seated next to a Black man.
Obviously disturbed by this, she called the air Hostess.

"Madam, what is the matter," the Hostess asked.

"You obviously do not see it then?" she responded. "You placed me next to a Black man. I do not agree to sit next to someone from such a repugnant group. Give me an alternative seat."

"Be calm please, " the Hostess replied. "Almost all the places on this flight are taken. I will go to see if another seat is available."

The Hostess went away and then came back a few minutes later.

"Madam, just as I thought, there are no other available seats in the Economy class. I spoke to the Captain and he informed me that there are also no seats in the Business class. All the same, we still have one seat in the First class."

Before the woman could say anything, the Hostess continued: "It is not usual for our company to permit someone from the Economy class to sit in the First class. However, given the circumstances, the Captain feels that it would be scandalous to make someone sit next to someone so disgusting."

She turned to the Black guy, and said, "Therefore, Sir, if you would like to, please collect your hand luggage, a seat awaits you in First class."

At that moment, the other passengers who were shocked by what they had just witnessed, stood up and applauded.

God and Evil

If an omnipotent creator was not prepared to provide his creatures with the necessities of existence, material and spiritual, he would have done better not to create them.

I could not reconcile myself with that preoccupation with sin. Most people’s badness is due to heredity which they couldn’t help, or to their environment, which they didn’t choose. If I had been God I couldn’t have brought myself to condemn one of them, not even the worst, to eternal damnation.

If Hell is the deprivation of God’s presence, but if that is such an intolerable punisment that it can justly be called hell, can one conceive that a good God can inflict it? After all, He created men: if He so created them that it was possible for them to sin, it was because He willed it.

If I trained a dog to fly at the throat of any stranger who came into my back yard, it wouldn’t be fair to beat him when he did so. If an all-good and all-powerful God created the world, why did He create evil?

It seemed to the monks that man by conqeuring the wickedness in him, by resisting temptation, by accepting pain and sorrow and misfortune as the trials sent by God to purify him, might at long last be made worthy to receive His grace. Is like seding a fellow a message to some place and just to make it harder for him, you constucted a maze that he had to get through, then dug a moat that he had to swim, and finally built a wall that he had to scale.

I wasn’t prepared to believe in an all-wise God who hadn’t common sense. I think when the Absolute manifested itself in the world, evil was the natural correlation of good. Its an ingenious notion but never satisfactory.

Source: Larry’s quest of God in Somerset Maugham’s The Razor’s Edge

Suicide and Murder

At the 1994 annual awards dinner given for Forensic Science, AAFS, President Dr. Ron Harper Mills astounded his audience with the legal complications of a bizarre death. Here is the story:

On March 23, 1994 the medical examiner viewed the body of Ronald Opus and concluded that he died from a shotgun wound to the head. Mr. Opus had jumped from the top of a ten story building intending to commit suicide. He left a note to that effect, indicating his despondency.

As he fell past the ninth floor his life was interrupted by a shotgun blast passing through a window which killed him instantly. Neither the shooter nor the descendent were aware that a safety net had been installed just below at the eighth floor level to protect some building workers and that Ronald Opus would not have been able to complete his suicide the way he had planned.

"Ordinarily," Dr. Mills continued, "a person who sets out to commit suicide and ultimately succeeds, even though the mechanism might not be what he intended, is still defined as committing suicide."

That Mr.Opus was shot on the way to certain death, but probably would not have been successful because of the safety net, caused the medical examiner to feel that he had a homicide on his hands. The room on the ninth floor, whence the shotgun blast emanated, was occupied by a elderly man and his wife. They were arguing vigorously and he was threatening her with a shotgun. The man was so upset that when he pulled the trigger he completely missed his wife and the pellets went through the window, striking Mr Opus. When one intends to kill subject A but kills subject B in the attempt, one is guilty of the murder of subject B.

When confronted with the murder charge the old man and his wife were both adamant. They both said they thought the shotgun was unloaded. The old man said it was his long-standing habit to threaten his wife with the unloaded shotgun. He had no intention to murder her. Therefore the killing of Mr. Opus appeared to be an accident; that is, the gun had been accidentally loaded.

The continuing investigation turned up a witness who saw the old couple's son loading the shotgun about six weeks prior to the fatal accident. It transpired that the old lady had cut off her son's financial support and the son, knowing the propensity of his father to use the shotgun threateningly, loaded the gun with the exactation that his father would shoot his mother.

The case now becomes one of murder on the part of the son, for the death of Ronald Opus. Now comes the exquisite twist. Further investigation revealed that the son was, in fact, Ronald Opus. He had become increasingly despondent over the failure of his attempt to engineer his mother's murder. This led him to jump off the ten-story building on March 23rd, only to be killed by a shotgun blast passing through the ninth story window.

The son had actually murdered himself so the medical examiner closed the case as a suicide.

Source: A true story from Associated Press, by Kurt Westervelt. Also, depicted in the movie Magnolia.

Rich and poor

One day, a father of a very wealthy family took his son on a trip to the country with the firm purpose of showing his son how poor people can be. They spent a couple of days and nights on the farm of what would be considered a very poor family.
On their return from the trip, the father asked his son, "How was the trip?"
"It was great, Dad."
"Did you see how poor people can be?" the father asked.
"Oh yeah," said the son.
"So what did you learn from the trip?" asked the father.
The son answered, "I saw that we have one dog and they have four. We have a pool that reaches to the middle of our garden and they have a creek that has no end. We have imported lanterns in our garden and they have the stars at night. Our patio reaches to the front yard and they have the whole horizon. We have a small piece of land to live on and they have fields that go beyond our sight. We have servants who serve us, but they serve others. We buy our food, but they grow theirs. We have walls around our property to protect us and they have friends to protect them."
With this, the boy's father was speechless.
Then his son added, "Thanks, Dad, for showing me how poor we are."

Source: A forward

Home they brought her warrior dead

By Alfred Lord Tennyson

Home they brought her warrior dead:
She nor swooned, nor uttered cry:
All her maidens, watching, said,
‘She must weep or she will die.’

Then they praised him, soft and low,
Called him worthy to be loved,
Truest friend and noblest foe;
Yet she neither spoke nor moved.

Stole a maiden from her place,
Lightly to the warrior stepped,
Took the face-cloth from the face;
Yet she neither moved nor wept.

Rose a nurse of ninety years,
Set his child upon her knee—
Like summer tempest came her tears—
‘Sweet my child, I live for thee.’

Another day in paradise

By Phil Collins

She calls out to the man on the street
sir, can you help me?
Its cold and Ive nowhere to sleep,
Is there somewhere you can tell me?

He walks on, doesnt look back
He pretends he cant hear her
Starts to whistle as he crosses the street
Seems embarrassed to be there

Oh think twice, its another day for
You and me in paradise
Oh think twice, its just another day for you,
You and me in paradise

She calls out to the man on the street
He can see shes been crying
Shes got blisters on the soles of her feet
Cant walk but shes trying

Oh think twice...

Oh lord, is there nothing more anybody can do
Oh lord, there must be something you can say

You can tell from the lines on her face
You can see that shes been there
Probably been moved on from every place
cos she didnt fit in there

Oh think twice...

Sound the Bugle

Artist: Bryan Adams
LyricsSong: Sound The Bugle

Sound the bugle now - play it just for me
As the seasons change - remember how I used to be
Now I can't go on - I can't even start
I've got nothing left - just an empty heart

I'm a soldier - wounded so I must give up the fight
There's nothing more for me - lead me away...
Or leave me lying here

Sound the bugle now - tell them I don't care
There's not a road I know - that leads to anywhere
Without a light feat that I will - stumble in the dark
Lay right down - decide not to go on

Then from on hight - somewhere in the distance
There's a voice that calls - remember who your are
If you lose yourself - your courage soon will follow

So be strong tonight - remember who you are
Ya you're a soldier now - fighting in a battle
To be free once more -Ya that's worth fighting for

Opportunities

Once there was a flood in a village. The water-level was up to the door-step of the village church. Some villagers on boat persuaded the priest inside the church to flee with them. But the priest refused, and said: “God is going to help me.”

After a few minutes, the water-level rose and the priest went to the attic of the church. One more boat of villagers came and they too asked the priest to go with them. Again, the priest said God will help him.

The water-level rose still more and the priest climbed to the top most part of the Church pole. Once again, one more boat of villagers came, and they too persuaded the priest to go with them. Still, the priest said God is not going to let him down. The water-level rose even higher, and the priest drowned and died.

In the Heaven, the priest asked God: “I had so much faith in you, God. Why didn’t you help me?”

The God replied: “I tried to. I sent you three boats. You didn’t take any of them.”

Source: Deccan Herald

Appointment at Samarra

Source: Originally translated from Arabic, but author is anonymous, though the tae has appeared in Somerset Maugham’s play Sheppey and a preface to John O’ Hara’s Appointment in Samarra and a vignette in Jeffrey Archer’s To cut a long story short

There was a merchant in Baghdad who sent his servant to market to buy provisions, and in a little while, the servant came back, white and trembling, and said, “Master, just now, when I was in the market-place, I was jostled by a woman in the crowd and when I turned, I saw it was Death that jostled me. She looked at me and made a threatening gesture. Now, lend me your horse and I will ride away from this city and avoid my fate. I will go to Samarra and there death will not find me.”

The merchant lent him his horse and the servant mounted it, and he dug his spurs in its flanks and as fast as the horse could gallop, he went. Then the merchant went down to the market-place and he saw me standing in the crowd and he came to me and said, “Why did you make a threatening gesture to my servant when you saw him this morning?”

I said it was only a start of surprise. I was astonished to see him here in Baghdad. For I had an appointment with him tonight in Samarra.

Zeuxis

In his early work, which is the basis for his fame, Zeuxis painted a bowl of grapes that was so life-like that birds pecked at the fruit. In an attempt to expand his achievement to encompass, he painted a boy carrying a bunch of grapes. When birds immediately came to peck at the fruit, Zeuxis judged that he had failed.

Zeuxis judgment that he had failed in his latter work was based on the assumption that birds are less likely to peck at fruits when they see that a human being is holding them]

Source: GRE Barrons book

The Stonecutter

"When nothing seems to be going my way, I go and look at a stonecutter hammering away at his rock, perhaps a hundred times, without as much as a crack showing in it. Yet, at the hundred and first blow, it will split in two, and I know it was not that blow that did it, but all that had gone before."

By Jacob Riis

55 word stories

SAY SOMETHING

The subway lurched, throwing her into his arms.
He's strong, protective, loving, she thought. We'll marry at a seaside resort and have four beautiful children.
He lifted her up and smiled. I'll always be faithful. When we're old, we'll travel the world together.
The train slowed. She moved to the door.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it."

By Chris Orcutt
Mount Vernon, NY

AT THE AUTOPSY

"Victim's blood is completely drained, apparently through two small puncture wounds in the neck," said the coroner.
"Hey ... you don't suppose it's, you know, the real deal?" asked his assistant.
"No, just some psycho."
"You sure?"
They stared at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing-but stopped when the corpse laughed, too.

By Ross Lesko
Lakewood, OH

ALEX AND ADAM

Alex, an aged almsman, articulated an afterthought.
"Always address agnostics amiably and answer atheists affectionately."
Adam, another aged almsman, addressed Alex's absurd aphorism, asking, "And after an apocalypse?"
Alex alluringly assumed an agreeable air and answered Adam: "Apocalypse and afflatus are amazingly abstract areas ... affection and amiability accomplish ample acquiescence and alleviate anger."
Adam agreed.

By Jeremiah Jacques
Asheville, NC

INSIDE OUT

They had known each other a few years.
She was nice. He knew she liked him.
But she was just average-looking. He couldn't settle for that.
One weekend, she asked him to the movies. She was intelligent, funny, easy to be with.
After four months of dating, she became a stunning beauty.

By John Bassi
Santa Maria

Around the world for free!

Ludovic Hubler has traveled around the world hitch hiking!

He left his house in France on 1-1-2003 and is returning back on 1-1-2008. He has even hitch hiked to Antarctica! He has met different kinds of people but, yet, he says that within, they are all one and the same. Almost all of them have been helpful and some have even invited him or Thanksgiving! He feels hitch hiking in US was much difficult than any other country. He wishes a time will come soon when people will look at passports in museum and say “We don’t need that now!”

Here are some interesting links about him: Google (make sure to see links on second page!), digihitch (interesting tale of his travel from Keywest to Miami), his own (its in French) and Hindu (an interview with him; by far the best link!).

Idol Worship

There was once a King who was against idol worship. He argued that there was nothing called God and idols were mere stones. He challenged anyone who could prove him otherwise.

A small peasant came to the king’s court and said he could prove otherwise. He asked the King's permission to get the photo of his late parents. The King granted. A courier got the King’s dead parents’ photo. The peasant asked the courier to give the photo to the King. The courier did so.

And then the peasant told the King: ‘Now, spit on the photo.’

It was then that the King realized the full potential of the exercise. He understood that even though idols were indeed mere stones, they were an instance of Divine, just as how the photo was an instance of his parents even though in effect it was actually just a piece of coloured paper.

The King bowed to the peasant and apologized for his ignorance.

Source: Tinkle

Introduction

There are some stories which, if we hear or read once, will be etched in our minds forever.

This blog is about such inspiring stories that I have come across in my life.