<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743</id><updated>2012-02-16T17:48:18.621+05:30</updated><title type='text'>&gt;&gt;leaf storm</title><subtitle type='html'>men are haunted by the vastness of eternity. and so we ask ourselves: will our actions echo across the centuries? will strangers hear our names long after we're gone and wonder who we were? how bravely we fought? how fiercely we loved?</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-6189040390079201726</id><published>2010-04-27T08:40:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2010-04-27T08:40:38.020+05:30</updated><title type='text'>എന്താണ് നല്ല സിനിമ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://movieraga.indulekha.com/2010/04/22/what-is-good-cinema/"&gt;എന്താണ് നല്ല സിനിമ?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;testing blog this. thanks&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-6189040390079201726?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://movieraga.indulekha.com/2010/04/22/what-is-good-cinema/' title='എന്താണ് നല്ല സിനിമ?'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/6189040390079201726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=6189040390079201726&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/6189040390079201726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/6189040390079201726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2010/04/blog-post.html' title='എന്താണ് നല്ല സിനിമ?'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-1996819521370855873</id><published>2008-08-06T19:03:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-08-06T19:04:57.500+05:30</updated><title type='text'>SPARK: an inspiring speech by Chetan Bhaghat</title><content type='html'>Inaugural Speech for the new batch at the Symbiosis BBA program, Pune 23rd June, 2008&lt;br /&gt;By Chetan Bhagat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good Morning everyone and thank you for giving me this chance to speak to you. This day is about you. You, who have come to this college, leaving the comfort of your homes (or in some cases discomfort), to become something in your life. I am sure you are excited. There are few days in human life when one is truly elated. The first day in college is one of them. When you were getting ready today, you felt a tingling in your stomach. What would the auditorium be like, what would the teachers be like, who are my new classmates - there is so much to be curious about. I call this excitement, the spark within you that makes you feel truly alive today. Today I am going to talk about keeping the spark shining. Or to put it another way, how to be happy most, if not all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do these sparks start? I think we are born with them. My 3-year old twin boys have a million sparks. A little Spiderman toy can make them jump on the bed. They get thrills from creaky swings in the park. A story from daddy gets them excited. They do a daily countdown for birthday party – several months in advance – just for the day they will cut their own birthday cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see students like you, and I still see some sparks. But when I see older people, the spark is difficult to find. That means as we age, the spark fades. People whose spark has faded too much are dull, dejected, aimless and bitter. Remember Kareena in the first half of Jab We Met vs the second half? That is what happens when the spark is lost. So how to save the spark?&lt;br /&gt;Imagine the spark to be a lamp's flame. The first aspect is nurturing - to give your spark the fuel, continuously. The second is to guard against storms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To nurture, always have goals. It is human nature to strive, improve and achieve full potential. In fact, that is success. It is what is possible for you. It isn't any external measure - a certain cost to company pay package, a particular car or house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of us are from middle class families. To us, having material landmarks is success and rightly so. When you have grown up where money constraints force everyday choices, financial freedom is a big achievement. But it isn't the purpose of life. If that was the case, Mr. Ambani would not show up for work. Shah Rukh Khan would stay at home and not dance anymore. Steve Jobs won't be working hard to make a better iPhone, as he sold Pixar for billions of dollars already. Why do they do it? What makes them come to work everyday? They do it because it makes them happy. They do it because it makes them feel alive. Just getting better from current levels feels good. If you study hard, you can improve your rank. If you make an effort to interact with people, you will do better in interviews. If you practice, your cricket will get better. You may also know that you cannot become Tendulkar, yet. But you can get to the next level. Striving for that next level is important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nature designed with a random set of genes and circumstances in which we were born. To be happy, we have to accept it and make the most of nature's design. Are you? Goals will help you do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must add, don't just have career or academic goals. Set goals to give you a balanced, successful life. I use the word balanced before successful. Balanced means ensuring your health, relationships, mental peace are all in good order.&lt;br /&gt;There is no point of getting a promotion on the day of your breakup. There is no fun in driving a car if your back hurts. Shopping is not enjoyable if your mind is full of tensions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You must have read some quotes - Life is a tough race, it is a marathon or whatever. No, from what I have seen so far, life is one of those races in nursery school, where you have to run with a marble in a spoon kept in your mouth. If the marble falls, there is no point coming first. Same with life, where health and relationships are the marble. Your striving is only worth it if there is harmony in your life. Else, you may achieve the success, but this spark, this feeling of being excited and alive, will start to die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One last thing about nurturing the spark - don't take life seriously. One of my yoga teachers used to make students laugh during classes. One student asked him if these jokes would take away something from the yoga practice. The teacher said - don't be serious, be sincere. This quote has defined my work ever since. Whether its my writing, my job, my relationships or any of my goals. I get thousands of opinions on my writing everyday. There is heaps of praise, there is intense criticism. If I take it all seriously, how will I write? Or rather, how will I live? Life is not to be taken seriously, as we are really temporary here. We are like a pre-paid card with limited validity. If we are lucky, we may last another 50 years. And 50 years is just 2,500 weekends. Do we really need to get so worked up? It's ok, bunk a few classes, goof up a few interviews, fall in love. We are people, not programmed devices.&lt;br /&gt;I've told you three things - reasonable goals, balance and not taking it too seriously that will nurture the spark. However, there are four storms in life that will threaten to completely put out the flame. These must be guarded against. These are disappointment, frustration, unfairness and loneliness of purpose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disappointment will come when your effort does not give you the expected return. If things don't go as planned or if you face failure. Failure is extremely difficult to handle, but those that do come out stronger. What did this failure teach me? Is the question you will need to ask. You will feel miserable. You will want to quit, like I wanted to when nine publishers rejected my first book. Some IITians kill themselves over low grades – how silly is that? But that is how much failure can hurt you. But it's life. If challenges could always be overcome, they would cease to be a challenge. And remember - if you are failing at something, that means you are at your limit or potential. And that's where you want to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disappointment's cousin is frustration, the second storm. Have you ever been frustrated? It happens when things are stuck. This is especially relevant in India. From traffic jams to getting that job you deserve, sometimes things take so long that you don't know if you chose the right goal. After books, I set the goal of writing for Bollywood, as I thought they needed writers. I am called extremely lucky, but it took me five years to get close to a release. Frustration saps excitement, and turns your initial energy into something negative, making you a bitter person. How did I deal with it? A realistic assessment of the time involved – movies take a long time to make even though they are watched quickly, seeking a certain enjoyment in the process rather than the end result – at least I was learning how to write scripts, having a side plan – I had my third book to write and even something as simple as pleasurable distractions in your life - friends, food, travel can help you overcome it. Remember, nothing is to be taken seriously. Frustration is a sign somewhere, you took it too seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfairness - this is hardest to deal with, but unfortunately that is how our country works. People with connections, rich dads, beautiful faces, pedigree find it easier to make it – not just in Bollywood, but everywhere. And sometimes it is just plain luck. There are so few opportunities in India, so many stars need to be aligned for you to make it happen. Merit and hard work is not always linked to achievement in the short term, but the long term correlation is high, and ultimately things do work out. But realize, there will be some people luckier than you. In fact, to have an opportunity to go to college and understand this speech in English means you are pretty damm lucky by Indian standards.. Let's be grateful for what we have and get the strength to accept what we don't. I have so much love from my readers that other writers cannot even imagine it. However, I don't get literary praise. It's ok. I don't look like Aishwarya Rai, but I have two boys who I think are more beautiful than her.. It's ok. Don't let unfairness kill your spark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the last point that can kill your spark is isolation. As you grow older you will realize you are unique. When you are little, all kids want Ice cream and Spiderman. As you grow older to college, you still are a lot like your friends. But ten years later and you realize you are unique. What you want, what you believe in, what makes you feel, may be different from even the people closest to you. This can create conflict as your goals may not match with others. . And you may drop some of them. Basketball captains in college invariably stop playing basketball by the time they have their second child. They give up something that meant so much to them. They do it for their family. But in doing that, the spark dies. Never, ever make that compromise. Love yourself first, and then others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There you go. I've told you the four thunderstorms - disappointment, frustration, unfairness and isolation. You cannot avoid them, as like the monsoon they will come into your life at regular intervals. You just need to keep the raincoat handy to not let the spark die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I welcome you again to the most wonderful years of your life. If someone gave me the choice to go back in time, I will surely choose college. But I also hope that ten years later as well, your eyes will shine the same way as they do today. That you will Keep the Spark alive, not only through college, but through the next 2,500 weekends. And I hope not just you, but my whole country will keep that spark alive, as we really need it now more than any moment in history. And there is something cool about saying - I come from the land of a billion sparks.&lt;br /&gt;Thank You&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-1996819521370855873?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/1996819521370855873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=1996819521370855873&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/1996819521370855873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/1996819521370855873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2008/08/spark-inspiring-speech-by-chetan.html' title='SPARK: an inspiring speech by Chetan Bhaghat'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-114996013382714472</id><published>2006-06-10T22:49:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-06-10T22:57:46.163+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Zacharia Rantaman: NEW STORY</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;സക്കറിയ രണ്ടാമന്‍&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‍ടോം ജെ. മങ്ങാട്ട്‌&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;“എളുപ്പത്തില്‍ മുതിരാന്‍ വല്ല ലേഹ്യമോ ലേപനമോ മറ്റോ ഉണ്ടായിരുന്നെങ്കില്‍ എത്ര നന്നായിരുന്നുവെന്ന് പിന്നെയും പിന്നെയും വിചാരിച്ചുകൊണ്ടും മുതിര്‍ന്നവനാകുന്നതിനെക്കുറിച്ച് കണ്ടമാനം സ്വപ്നങ്ങള്‍ കണ്ടുകൂട്ടിക്കൊണ്ടും ഒരു ചെറിയ കുട്ടി അങ്ങനെ നടന്നു പോകുന്നതാണ് ഇപ്പോള്‍ നമ്മള്‍ കാണുന്നത്.&lt;br /&gt;മുതിരുന്നതുകൊണ്ട് എന്തെങ്കിലും മെച്ചമില്ലെന്നും കുഴപ്പങ്ങള്‍ കൂടുമെന്നല്ലാതെ കുറയില്ലെന്നും അറിയാവുന്നവരായ നമ്മള്‍ കുട്ടിയെ സഹതാപത്തോടും സങ്കടത്തോടെയുമാണ് നോക്കുന്നത്. അങ്ങനെ നോക്കി നോക്കി കുട്ടിയുടെ പിന്നാ‍ലെ നമ്മള്‍ നടപ്പു തുടങ്ങുന്നു”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;സക്കറിയ രണ്ടാമന്‍ എന്ന പ്രശസ്തയുവകഥാകൃത്ത് പുതിയൊരു പ്രശസ്തയുവകഥ എഴുതിത്തുടങ്ങുകയാണ്. പത്രപ്രവര്‍ത്തകനും നോവലിസ്റ്റും വേണ്ടിവന്നാല്‍ തിരക്കഥാകൃത്തും കൂടിയായ സക്കറിയ രണ്ടാമന്റെ മാനസഗുരു സക്കറിയ എന്ന എഴുത്തുകാരനാണ്. ഈ യുവകഥാകൃത്തിന്റെ ബൈബിളാണ് തൃശൂര്‍ കറന്റ് ബുക്സ് പ്രസിദ്ധീകരിച്ച സക്കറിയയുടെ തിരഞ്ഞെടുത്ത കഥകള്‍’.&lt;br /&gt;സക്കറിയ രണ്ടാമന്‍ നാളെയുടെ വാഗ്ദാനമാണെന്നാണ് കേസരി മൂന്നാമന്‍ എന്ന നിരൂപകന്‍ പറയുന്നത്. കേസരി മൂന്നാമന്‍ എന്ന ദേഹം സക്കറിയ രണ്ടാമന്റെ സ്വന്തം പിതാവാണെങ്കിലും ഇത്തരം നഗ്നസത്യങ്ങള്‍ ആരുടെ മുഖത്തു നോക്കിയും പറയാന്‍ അദ്ദേഹത്തിനു തെല്ലും മടിയില്ല. അതാണ് നിരൂപണം എന്ന കലയുടെ സത്യസന്ധത..&lt;br /&gt;സക്കറിയ രണ്ടാമന്‍ എഴുത്തു തുടരുന്നു.&lt;br /&gt;(PLEASE VISIT &lt;a href="http://tomonline.in"&gt;tomonline.in&lt;/a&gt; TO READ THE FULL STORY)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-114996013382714472?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.tomonline.in' title='Zacharia Rantaman: NEW STORY'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/114996013382714472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=114996013382714472&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/114996013382714472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/114996013382714472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2006/06/zacharia-rantaman-new-story.html' title='Zacharia Rantaman: NEW STORY'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113769901201046768</id><published>2006-01-20T00:56:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-01-20T01:01:30.820+05:30</updated><title type='text'>WHO IS BLACK?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/1600/plane.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/320/plane.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This took place on a British Airways flight between Johannesburg and London. A white woman, about 50 years old, was seated next to a black man. Obviously disturbed by this, she called the air hostess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Madam, what is the matter," the hostess asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"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."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Be calm please," the hostess replied. "Almost all the places on this flight are taken. I will go to see if another place is available."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Hostess went away and then came back a few minutes later.&lt;br /&gt;"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 is also no seat in the business class. All the same, we still have one place in the firstclass."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She turned to the black man, and said, "Therefore, Sir, if you would like to, please collect your hand luggage, a seat awaits you in first class."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that moment, the other passengers who were shocked by what they had just witnessed stood up and applauded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(This said to be  true story is mailed by &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sunitha Abubaker&lt;/span&gt;. Thanks a lot sunitha)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113769901201046768?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113769901201046768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113769901201046768&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113769901201046768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113769901201046768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2006/01/who-is-black.html' title='WHO IS BLACK?'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113699723585823713</id><published>2006-01-11T21:48:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-01-11T22:03:59.900+05:30</updated><title type='text'>SARDARJI IS VERY SERIOUS; SO LET US LAUGH!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/1600/sardar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/400/sardar.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sardarji is attending an interview.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interviewer : Give me the opposite words.&lt;br /&gt;Sardarji : Ok&lt;br /&gt;Interviewer : Made in India&lt;br /&gt;Sardarji : Destroyed in Pakistan&lt;br /&gt;Interviewer : Keep it Up&lt;br /&gt;Banta Singh : Put it Down&lt;br /&gt;Interviewer : Maxi Mum&lt;br /&gt;Sardarji : Mini Dad&lt;br /&gt;Interviewer : Enough! Take your Seat&lt;br /&gt;Sardarji : Don't take my seat&lt;br /&gt;Interviewer : Idiot! Take your Seat&lt;br /&gt;Sardarji : Clever! Don't take my Seat&lt;br /&gt;Interviewer : I say you get out!&lt;br /&gt;Sardarji : You didn't say I come in&lt;br /&gt;Interviewer : I reject you!&lt;br /&gt;Sardarji : You Appoint me&lt;br /&gt;Interviewer: ........!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Unfortunately, he did not get that job. And another interview.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interviewer: What is another difference between a mosquito and a fly?&lt;br /&gt;Sardarji: A fly can fly but a mosquito cannot mosquito.&lt;br /&gt;Interviewer: When did George Washington die?&lt;br /&gt;Sardarji: two days before his funeral.&lt;br /&gt;Interviewer: What is Common between Krishna, Ram, Gandhi ji &amp; Jesus..?&lt;br /&gt;Sardarji: All are born on Government Holidays.&lt;br /&gt;Interviewer: A=B, B=C, So A=C, Give me an example,&lt;br /&gt;Sardarj: I Love You, You Love Your Daughter, So I Love your daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sardaji bought a new mobile.&lt;/span&gt; He called everyone from his Phone Book and said:&lt;br /&gt;   "My Mobile number has changed. Earlier it was Nokia 3310; Now it is 6610!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sardar falls in Love with Nurse.&lt;/span&gt; She rejected him. Why?&lt;br /&gt;   Because he writes a Love letter to her, "I LOVE U SISTER."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Mailed by Ancy Jomy)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113699723585823713?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113699723585823713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113699723585823713&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113699723585823713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113699723585823713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2006/01/sardarji-is-very-serious-so-let-us.html' title='SARDARJI IS VERY SERIOUS; SO LET US LAUGH!'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113613311933937011</id><published>2006-01-01T21:52:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-01-01T22:01:59.350+05:30</updated><title type='text'>RECIPE FOR A HAPPY NEW YEAR</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/400/Stars2.0.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/400/Stars2.0.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take twelve whole months.&lt;br /&gt;Clean them thoroughly of all bitterness,&lt;br /&gt;Hate and jealousy.&lt;br /&gt;Make them just as fresh and clean as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now cut each month into twenty-eight, thirty, or&lt;br /&gt;Thirty-one different parts,&lt;br /&gt;but don't make up the whole batch at once.&lt;br /&gt;Prepare it one day at a time out of these ingredients.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mix well into each day one part of faith,&lt;br /&gt;One part of patience, one part of courage,&lt;br /&gt;And one part of work.&lt;br /&gt;Add to each day one part of hope,&lt;br /&gt;Faithfulness, generosity, and kindness.&lt;br /&gt;Blend with one part prayer, one part meditation,&lt;br /&gt;and one good deed.&lt;br /&gt;Season the whole with a dash of good spirits,&lt;br /&gt;a sprinkle of fun, a pinch of play,&lt;br /&gt;and a cup full of good humor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pour all of this into a vessel of love.&lt;br /&gt;Cook thoroughly over radiant joy,&lt;br /&gt;Garnish with a smile,&lt;br /&gt;And serve with quietness, unselfishness,&lt;br /&gt;And cheerfulness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is happy new year !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Mailed by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-style: italic;" href="mailto:guruji@batelco.com.bh"&gt;N. P. Nambiar&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113613311933937011?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113613311933937011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113613311933937011&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113613311933937011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113613311933937011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2006/01/recipe-for-happy-new-year.html' title='RECIPE FOR A HAPPY NEW YEAR'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113587297507758167</id><published>2005-12-29T21:37:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-12-29T22:35:37.210+05:30</updated><title type='text'>THE 'TRUTHS'!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/1600/cartoo1.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/400/cartoo1.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Regular naps prevent old age... especially if you take them while driving.&lt;br /&gt;2. Having one child makes you a parent; having two makes you a referee.&lt;br /&gt;3. Marriage is a relationship in which one person is always right and the other is the husband!&lt;br /&gt;4. They said we should all pay our tax with a smile. I tried - but they wanted cash.&lt;br /&gt;5. A child's greatest period of growth is the month after you've purchased new school uniforms.&lt;br /&gt;6. Don't feel bad. A lot of people have no talent.&lt;br /&gt;7. Don't marry the person you want to live with, marry the one you cannot live without... but whatever you do, you'll regret it later.&lt;br /&gt;8. You can't buy love . . but you pay heavily for it.&lt;br /&gt;9. True friends stab you in the front.&lt;br /&gt;10. Forgiveness is giving up my right to hate you for hurting me.&lt;br /&gt;11. Bad officials are elected by good citizens who do not vote.&lt;br /&gt;12. Laziness is nothing more than the habit of resting before you get tired.&lt;br /&gt;13. My wife and I always compromise. I admit I'm wrong and she agrees with me.&lt;br /&gt;14. Those who can't laugh at themselves leave the job to others.&lt;br /&gt;15. Ladies first. Pretty ladies sooner.&lt;br /&gt;16. It doesn't matter how often a married man changes his job, he still ends up with the same boss.&lt;br /&gt;17. They call our language the mother tongue because the father seldom gets to speak.&lt;br /&gt;18. Saving is the best thing. Especially when your parents have done it for you.&lt;br /&gt;19. Wise men talk because they have something to say; fools talk because they have to say something.&lt;br /&gt;20. Real friends are the ones who survive transitions between address books&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;font&gt;(Contributed by  &lt;a href="mailto:pradeepk@indusind.com"&gt;K. N. PRADEEP KUMAR&lt;/a&gt;.The cartoo&lt;font&gt;n&lt;font&gt; is from freedomtolearn.org&lt;font&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113587297507758167?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113587297507758167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113587297507758167&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113587297507758167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113587297507758167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2005/12/truths.html' title='THE &apos;TRUTHS&apos;!'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113542799683145047</id><published>2005-12-24T18:05:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-12-24T18:09:56.866+05:30</updated><title type='text'>DEAR ALL, MERRY CHRISTMAS!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/1600/SANTAGIF.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/400/SANTAGIF.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;JINGLE BELLS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dashing through the snow&lt;br /&gt;On a one-horse open sleigh,&lt;br /&gt;Over the fields we go,&lt;br /&gt;Laughing all the way;&lt;br /&gt;Bells on bob-tail ring,&lt;br /&gt;making spirits bright,&lt;br /&gt;What fun it is to ride and sing&lt;br /&gt;A sleighing song tonight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells,&lt;br /&gt;Jingle all the way!&lt;br /&gt;Oh what fun it is to ride&lt;br /&gt;In a one-horse open sleigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A day or two ago,&lt;br /&gt;the story I must tell&lt;br /&gt;I went out on the snow&lt;br /&gt;And on my back I fell;&lt;br /&gt;A gent was riding by&lt;br /&gt;In a one-horse open sleigh,&lt;br /&gt;He laughed as there&lt;br /&gt;I sprawling lie,&lt;br /&gt;But quickly drove away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells,&lt;br /&gt;Jingle all the way!&lt;br /&gt;Oh what fun it is to ride&lt;br /&gt;In a one-horse open sleigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A day or two ago,&lt;br /&gt;I thought I'd take a ride,&lt;br /&gt;And soon Miss Fanny Bright&lt;br /&gt;Was seated by my side;&lt;br /&gt;The horse was lean and lank;&lt;br /&gt;Misfortune seemed his lot;&lt;br /&gt;He got into a drifted bank,&lt;br /&gt;And we, we got upsot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells,&lt;br /&gt;Jingle all the way!&lt;br /&gt;Oh what fun it is to ride&lt;br /&gt;In a one-horse open sleigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the ground is white&lt;br /&gt;Go it while you're young,&lt;br /&gt;Take the girls tonight&lt;br /&gt;And sing this sleighing song;&lt;br /&gt;Just get a bob-tailed bay&lt;br /&gt;two-forty as his speed&lt;br /&gt;Hitch him to an open sleigh&lt;br /&gt;And crack! you'll take the lead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells,&lt;br /&gt;Jingle all the way!&lt;br /&gt;Oh what fun it is to ride&lt;br /&gt;In a one-horse open sleigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This very famous carol was written by James Pierpont (1822-1893 ) and originally entitled "One Horse Open Sleigh", a jaunty composition which is sung around the Christmas holidays. Pierpont is born in Medford (Massachusetts) and his story resemble furthermore to a legend that a true story. When Pierpont wrote Jingle Bells, lived with his young wife, Eliza Purse, with whom he had 6 or 7 children, the daughter of a Civil War mayor of Savannah, Georgia, and his father, Reverend John Pierpont, the pastor of the First Medford Unitarian Church always in Medford. A day James Pierpont went to the home of Mrs. Otis Waterman, who owned the only piano in town, and he of course went there to play the carol. After he played the piece for her. Mrs. Waterman's reply was that it was a very merry little jingle, and he should have a lot of success with it. That, of course, is where the James got the idea for the song's name. Jingle Bells was finally published and copyrighted by the year 1857.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113542799683145047?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113542799683145047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113542799683145047&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113542799683145047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113542799683145047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2005/12/dear-all-merry-christmas.html' title='DEAR ALL, MERRY CHRISTMAS!'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113518159629347781</id><published>2005-12-21T21:42:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-12-21T21:44:53.620+05:30</updated><title type='text'>CHRISTMAS STORY: A PLACE IN PARADISE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/1600/xmas3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/320/xmas3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;By PAULO COELHO&lt;br /&gt;Many years ago, in the northeast of Brazil, there lived a couple who were very poor and whose only possession was a hen. They managed to scrape a precarious living from the eggs laid by that one hen.&lt;br /&gt;On Christmas Eve, however, the hen died. The husband, who only had a few pennies to his name, which was certainly not enough to buy food for that evening's meal, went to seek help from the village priest.&lt;br /&gt;   Instead of giving him money, the priest merely remarked:&lt;br /&gt;'God never closes a door without opening a window. Your money will buy you almost nothing, so go to the market and buy the first thing you're offered. I will bless that purchase and, since Christmas is the time for miracles, something will happen that will change your life for ever.'&lt;br /&gt;The man wasn't entirely convinced that this was the best solution, but he went to the market anyway. One of the traders saw him wandering aimlessly about and asked what he was looking for.&lt;br /&gt;   'I don't know. I don't have much money, but the priest told me that I should buy the first thing I was offered.'&lt;br /&gt;The trader was very rich, but even so he never let slip an opportunity to make a profit, however small. He took the man's few coins and in exchange gave him a note scribbled on a piece of paper.&lt;br /&gt;'The priest was quite right. Now I've always had a kind heart, and so, on this festive day, I'm selling you my place in Paradise. Here are the deeds!'&lt;br /&gt;The other man took the piece of paper and moved off, while the trader glowed with pride at having closed yet another excellent deal. That night, while he was preparing for supper in his house full of servants, he told the story to his wife, adding that it was thanks to such quick thinking that he had become as rich as he was.&lt;br /&gt;'That's shameful!' said his wife. 'Fancy behaving like that on the day Jesus was born! Go straight to that man's house and get the piece of paper back, or you'll never set foot in this house again!'&lt;br /&gt;Alarmed by his wife's anger, the trader decided to do as she said. After much asking around, he managed to find out where the man lived. When he went in, he found the couple sitting at a table that was completely bare apart from the piece of paper.&lt;br /&gt;   'I've come because what I did was wrong,' the trader said. 'Here's your money. Now give me back what I sold you.'&lt;br /&gt;'You did nothing wrong,' replied the man. 'I followed the priest's advice and I know that what I bought from you is blessed.'&lt;br /&gt;'But it's just a piece of paper. Besides, no one can sell someone else their place in Paradise. If you like, I'll give you double what you paid for it.'&lt;br /&gt;However, because he believed in miracles, the poor man refused to sell. The trader gradually increased his offer, until he reached the sum of ten gold coins.&lt;br /&gt;'That's no good to me,' said the man. 'In order to give my wife the life she deserves, I need one hundred gold coins. That is the miracle I'm waiting for this Christmas Eve.'&lt;br /&gt;In despair and knowing that if he lingered any longer, no one in his own house would have supper or go to midnight mass, the trader ended up paying one hundred gold coins to get the piece of paper back. As far as the couple were concerned, the miracle had happened. As for the trader, he had done as his wife had asked. His wife, though, was filled with doubt. Had she been too hard on her husband?&lt;br /&gt;   As soon as midnight mass was over, she went to the priest and told him the story.&lt;br /&gt;'Father, my husband met a man who said that you had told him to go to the market and buy the first thing he was offered. My husband, seeing a chance to earn some easy money, wrote him a note on a piece of paper, selling him his place in Paradise. I told my husband that he wouldn't eat in our house tonight if he didn't get that piece of paper back, and he ended up having to pay one hundred gold coins for it. Did I go too far? Could a place in Paradise really cost that much?'&lt;br /&gt;'Firstly, your husband was able to show great generosity on this, the most important day in the Christian calendar. Secondly, he became the instrument of God through whom a miracle was performed. But to answer your question: when he sold his place in Heaven for a few pennies, it wasn't even worth that much; however, when he bought it back for one hundred gold coins simply to make his wife happy, that, I can assure you, made it worth much much more.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;(Based on an Hasidic tale by David Mandel. Source: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Warrior of the Light&lt;/span&gt;, a www.paulocoelho.com.br             publication)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113518159629347781?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113518159629347781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113518159629347781&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113518159629347781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113518159629347781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2005/12/christmas-story-place-in-paradise.html' title='CHRISTMAS STORY: A PLACE IN PARADISE'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113482285432448282</id><published>2005-12-17T18:00:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-12-21T21:48:01.313+05:30</updated><title type='text'>INDULEKHA: JUST ARRIVED!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/1600/indulekha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/400/indulekha.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indulekha ( &lt;a href="http://www.indulekha.com/"&gt;www.indulekha.com&lt;/a&gt; ), an online showcase for Malayalam books has just started test running. Ten books are listed now. We can read first three pages of all these books alongwith a brief introduction. More books can be expected in coming days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: arial; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" href="http://www.indulekha.com/"&gt;CLICK HERE TO VISIT INDULEKHA&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113482285432448282?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113482285432448282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113482285432448282&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113482285432448282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113482285432448282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2005/12/indulekha-just-arrived.html' title='INDULEKHA: JUST ARRIVED!'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113435608630618644</id><published>2005-12-12T08:02:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-12-12T13:52:42.816+05:30</updated><title type='text'>PAULO COELHO AND V C SREEJAN</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5099/1795/1600/coelho.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5099/1795/200/coelho.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&gt;&gt;Paulo Coelho (on MALAYALAM literary scene??)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the writers there are more concerned with style than content; they strive to be original, but succeed only in being dull. They are locked in their own little world, and I learn an interesting French expression: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;renvoyer l'ascenseur&lt;/span&gt;, meaning literally 'to send the lift back up', but used metaphorically to mean 'to return a favour.' In practice, this means that I say nice things about your book, you say nice things about mine, and thus we create a whole new cultural life, a revolution, an apparently new philosophy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'They send the lift up', and at first, such writers have some success: people don't want to run the risk of openly criticising something they don't understand, but they soon realise they are being conned and stop believing what the critics say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(from Coelho's new novel, THE ZAHIR)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&gt;&gt;VC Sreejan (on MALAYALAM writing)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New books are coming out, new writings appear. Our literature thrives.&lt;br /&gt;I, being a critic, am really glad in these positive developments. For, new writing is necessary for the Critics to survive. As we are all aware, criticism is a derivative art.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are people who say that the real life experiences are not indispensable for creative works. On the other hand, some people believe that such experiences are absolutely essential for the works. Both these arguments are important, but in different ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In our changing times, an anxiety prevails as to whether our language would survive, or for that matter, whether our literature would last long . Admittedly, all these confusions remain. Our responsibility is to protect and guard our own language. The new writers should pay their attention to this area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are two different types of meanings to the words. The traditional meaning and then the meaning they acquire over the years through constant interactions and communications. As for the dead languages, the possibility for the latter is remote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In some earlier occasions, I have stated that there are no big names in our language when we make comparisons with the world literature. In a different angle, we can think that&lt;br /&gt;the writers , in general, are trying to bring in the interactions that happen around them to their creative works. When we view things in that way, there will not be different standards in writing like good or bad writing, great or mediocre authors and like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In these times of globalisation and liberalisation, what our new writers can attempt is this: they should go through the works of some not so-great workers. They would be able to find some sparks in these works, some novel metaphors left unnoticed by a generation of readers. And the new writers must try to find out if they would be able to create their own works based on these ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(excerpts from a speech, translated by E. SANTHOSHKUMAR)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113435608630618644?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113435608630618644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113435608630618644&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113435608630618644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113435608630618644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2005/12/paulo-coelho-and-v-c-sreejan.html' title='PAULO COELHO AND V C SREEJAN'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113396848773166126</id><published>2005-12-07T20:35:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-12-12T13:54:15.066+05:30</updated><title type='text'>CORPORATE HAIKU</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/1600/corporate%20cartoon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/320/corporate%20cartoon.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My writer friend E. SANTHOSH KUMAR sent some 'post modern' haiku by William Warriner. He picked these pieces from a book named Corporate Haiku. "It is amusing in a way, but a reality in the American life," santhosh writes. All americans are welcome to comment!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&gt;&gt;So, it STARTS...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere in Japan,&lt;br /&gt;They will design a car that&lt;br /&gt;Plows its own doorway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before first flight, while&lt;br /&gt;I dream of deadlines,&lt;br /&gt;Rises the entrepreneur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopelessly entranced&lt;br /&gt;By the flight of numbers,&lt;br /&gt;I no longer see birds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my space, I am content,&lt;br /&gt;Where ivy grows on a computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly we acquire&lt;br /&gt;Management proficiency&lt;br /&gt;In slipping schedules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The clocks diagree;&lt;br /&gt;Yet they all accuse me of&lt;br /&gt;Mismanaging time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But how can this be?&lt;br /&gt;My teacher commands me:&lt;br /&gt;Press Enter to Exit !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mushroom has pushed&lt;br /&gt;Through stone; it knows&lt;br /&gt;The art of negotiation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the projector,&lt;br /&gt;A spider traces a map&lt;br /&gt;Of his market place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Marketing plan:&lt;br /&gt;Though it is a small one,&lt;br /&gt;Sell it as a large one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fields of white daisies&lt;br /&gt;Gently nod consensus&lt;br /&gt;As I rehearse my speech.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last years proposal&lt;br /&gt;Add wings; then it&lt;br /&gt;Will become a new idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Light dawns with a thud&lt;br /&gt;All those apples on the ground&lt;br /&gt;Which one was Newton's?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113396848773166126?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113396848773166126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113396848773166126&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113396848773166126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113396848773166126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2005/12/corporate-haiku.html' title='CORPORATE HAIKU'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113259332016831182</id><published>2005-11-21T22:44:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-01-15T22:45:34.470+05:30</updated><title type='text'>O V VIJAYAN again; then comes BASHEER</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.indulekha.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/400/advt%20last.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;THIS SURVEY IS NOW RUN BY INDULEKHA (www.indulekha.com). PLEASE VISIT INDULEKHA FOR THE LATEST RESULTS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://indulekhanews.blogspot.com/2005/12/most-loved-book-in-malayalam.html"&gt;CLICK HERE&lt;/a&gt; TO GO DIRECTLY TO THE SURVEY PAGE.&lt;br /&gt;SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113259332016831182?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113259332016831182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113259332016831182&amp;isPopup=true' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113259332016831182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113259332016831182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2005/11/o-v-vijayan-again-then-comes-basheer.html' title='O V VIJAYAN again; then comes BASHEER'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113240400434071187</id><published>2005-11-19T18:01:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-19T18:23:49.606+05:30</updated><title type='text'>POINT OF VIEW</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/1600/snacks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/200/snacks.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;My friend Mr. K. N. PRADEEP KUMAR, Chief Manager, IndusInd Bank, Kottayam, sent me a nice story by e-mail. A Zen-kind of story. You may please read it here. It says, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;seeing things from a new point of view can be very enlightening. Think outside the box. Don't settle for the status quo. Be open to suggestions. Things may not be what they seem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&gt;&gt;CHANGE Your  Point of View&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joe Gracia&lt;br /&gt;Imagine you're in London's Heathrow Airport. While you're waiting for your flight, you notice a kiosk selling shortbread cookies. You buy a box, put them in your traveling bag and then you patiently search for an available seat so you can sit down and enjoy your cookies.Finally you find a seat next to a gentleman. You reach down into your traveling bag and pull out your box of shortbread cookies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you do so, you notice that the gentleman starts watching you intensely. He stares as you open the box and his eyes follow your hand as you pick up the cookie and bring it to your mouth. Just then he reaches over and takes one of your cookies from the box, and eats it! You're more than a little surprised at this. Actually, you're at a loss for words. Not only does he take one cookie, but he alternates with you. For every one cookie you take, he takes one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, what's your immediate impression of this guy? Crazy? Greedy? He's got some nerve?! Can you imagine the words you might use to describe this man to your associates back at the office? Meanwhile, you both continue eating the cookies until there's just one left. To your surprise, the man reaches over and takes it. But then he does something unexpected. He breaks it in half, and gives half to you. After he's finished with his half he gets up, and without a word, he leaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You think to yourself, "Did this really happen?" You're left sitting there dumbfounded and still hungry. So you go back to the kiosk and buy another box of cookies. You then return to your seat and begin opening your new box of cookies when you glance down into your traveling bag. Sitting there in your bag is your original box of ookies -- still unopened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only then do you realize that when you reached down earlier, you had reached into the other man's bag, and grabbed his box of cookies by mistake. Now what do you think of the man? Generous? Tolerant? You've just experienced a profound paradigm shift. You're seeing things from a newpoint of view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it time to change your point  of view?&lt;br /&gt;Now, think of this story as it relates to your life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113240400434071187?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113240400434071187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113240400434071187&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113240400434071187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113240400434071187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2005/11/point-of-view.html' title='POINT OF VIEW'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113216062456297757</id><published>2005-11-16T21:38:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-17T21:09:54.873+05:30</updated><title type='text'>HAIKU RAINS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/1600/One%20umbrella.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/200/One%20umbrella.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Let us dive into a special kind of rain this time. Enjoy some rain poems from my collection of Haiku, one of the most important modes of Japanese poetry. The painting seen above is a Haiga, means Haiku painting, by Zolo. Zolo is very famous for his Haiga as well as Haiku. You can find some of his beautiful Haiga at www.worldpath.net/~jpandsk/ . Well, let the rain comes. Have a nice time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;Matsuo Basho&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;Spring rain&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;leaking through the roof&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dripping from the wasps' nest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;From now on&lt;br /&gt;a nameless traveller;&lt;br /&gt;winter's first rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&gt;&gt;Shiki Masaoka&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night; and once again,&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the while I wait for you,&lt;br /&gt;cold wind&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;turns into rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&gt;&gt;Soen Nakagawa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;Sound of mountain&lt;br /&gt;sound of ocean&lt;br /&gt;everywhere spring rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;Soft spring rain-&lt;br /&gt;since when&lt;br /&gt;have I been called a monk?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&gt;&gt;Vic Johnson &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The clouds bring sadness&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadness because the sun's gone&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rain filled with sorrow&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Richard Lawrence Cohen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;Rain on my windshield.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a small thing a life is:&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pages, photos, tears.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Picking up the kids&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;early on a rainy day&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is all we can do.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Halloween downpour:&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Costumes under umbrellas.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’m scared of thunder.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&gt;&gt;Daniel Trent&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;up to my wrists&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the washing up bowl -&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;watching the rain&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;a sliver of moon&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rain on the dormer window -&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;summer evening&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;rain speckles&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the dusty window -&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mid-summer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&gt;&gt;Morten Paulsen&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An island song&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like a floating river&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rain Rain Fall Fall&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&gt;&gt;Jack Kerouac&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;After the shower&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;among the drenched roses&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the bird thrashing in the bath.&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;Snap your finger&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stop the world -&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rain falls harder.&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;Ed Brown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A gentle rain settles the dust.&lt;br /&gt;A cool refreshing breeze cleans the air.&lt;br /&gt;Breath absorbed breath.&lt;br /&gt;The ancient sand castles are nowhere to be found.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113216062456297757?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113216062456297757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113216062456297757&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113216062456297757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113216062456297757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2005/11/haiku-rains.html' title='HAIKU RAINS'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113181079931497688</id><published>2005-11-12T21:05:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-15T22:45:03.023+05:30</updated><title type='text'>CUSTOMER CARE IN 2020</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/1600/customer3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/320/customer3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You are going to read a joke; just joke. But in no time, i do believe, it will become a real life situation. Whether we like it or not, we are heading ourselves to that point. Read and laugh for the time being. And later, get shocked to know what is in store for us in the age of information explosion and world wide web. 'Happy' IT revolution! I got this joke from a friend by e-mail. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Operator : "Thank you for calling Pizza Hut . May I have your........."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Customer: "Heloo, can I order......"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Operator : "Can I have your multi purpose card number first, Sir?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Customer: "It's eh..., hold..........on......889861356102049998-45-54610"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Operator : "OK... you're... Mr Singh and you're calling from 17 Jalan Kayu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; Your home number is 4094! 2366, your office 76452302 and your mobile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; is 0142662566. Which number are you calling from now Sir?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Customer: "Home! How did you get all my phone numbers?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Operator : "We are connected to the system Sir"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Customer: "May I order your Seafood Pizza..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Operator : "That's not a good idea Sir"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Customer: "How come?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Operator : "According to your medical records, you have high blood pressure&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; and even higher cholesterol level Sir"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Customer: "What?... What do you recommend then?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Operator : "Try our Low Fat Hokkien Mee Pizza. You'll like it"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Customer: "How do you know for sure?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Operator : "You borrowed a book entitled "Popular Hokkien Dishes" from the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; National Library last week Sir"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Customer: "OK I give up... Give me three family size ones then, how much&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; will that cost?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Operator : "That should be enough for your family of 10, Sir. The total is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; $49.99"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Customer: "Can I pay by! credit card?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Operator : "I'm afraid you have to pay us cash, Sir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; Your credit card is over the limit and you owe your bank $3, 720.55 since&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; October last year. That's not including the late payment charges on your&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; housing loan, Sir."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Customer: "I guess I have to run to the neighbourhood ATM and withdraw&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; some cash before your guy arrives"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Operator : "You can't Sir. Based on the records,you've reached your daily&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; limit on machine withdrawal today"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Customer: "Never mind just send the pizzas, I'll have the cash ready.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; How long is it gonna take anyway?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Operator : "About 45 minutes Sir, but if you can't wait you can always&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; come and collect it on your motorcycle..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Customer: " What!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Operator : "According to the details in system ,you own a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; Scooter,...registration number 1123..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Customer: " ????"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Operator : "Is there anything else Sir?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Customer: "Nothing... by the way... aren't you giving me that 3 free&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; bottles of cola as advertised?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Operator : "We normally would Sir, but based on your records you're also&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; diabetic....... "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Customer: #$$^%&amp;amp;$@$%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Operator "Better watch your language Sir. Remember on 15th July 1987 you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; were convicted of using abusive language on a policeman...?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Customer: [Faints]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113181079931497688?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113181079931497688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113181079931497688&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113181079931497688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113181079931497688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2005/11/customer-care-in-2020.html' title='CUSTOMER CARE IN 2020'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113155144700995689</id><published>2005-11-09T21:10:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-15T22:44:37.106+05:30</updated><title type='text'>A PASSION FOR BOOKS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/1600/passion3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/320/passion3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;It is a book lover's book. A book for the book lovers and by two book lovers! As its publisher claims, A PASSION FOR BOOKS is a 'treasury of stories, essays, humour, lore and lists on collecting, reading, borrowing, lending, caring for and appreciating books.' This is the book that thrilled me for the last two months. From celebrities like Umberto Eco, Susan Sontag to many unknown (i.e., unknown to me, that's all!) writers have made precious contributions to it. You will be astonished to read Gustave Flaubert's first published work, Bibliomania, a story written in 1836, in this collection edited by HAROLD RABINOWITZ and ROB KAPLAN. It is published by THREE RIVERS PRESS, New York. Here is a small, but funny piece from it. The book is worth buying. I bought it from DC HERITAGE BOOK SHOP, Kottayam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/redirect?link_code=ur2&amp;amp;camp=1789&amp;tag=tomonline-20&amp;amp;creative=9325&amp;path=external-search%3Fsearch-type=ss%26keyword=a%20passion%20for%20books%26index=books"&gt;FIND THIS at amazon.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=tomonline-20&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;l=ur2&amp;o=1" alt="" style="border: medium none  ! important; margin: 0px ! important;" border="0" height="1" width="1" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&gt;&gt;On the return of A BOOK LENT TO A FRIEND&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;By CHRISTOPHER MORLEY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;I give hearty and humble thanks for the safe return of this book, which having endured the perils of my friend's bookcase and the bookcases of my friend's friends, now returns to me in reasonably good condition. I give hearty and humble thanks that my friend did not see fit to give this book to his infant for a plaything, nor use it as an ashtray for his burning cigar, nor as a teething-ring for his mastiff. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;When I loaned this book, I deemed it as lost; I was resigned to the business of the long parting; I never thought to look upon its pages again. But now that my book has come back to me, I rejoice and am exceedingly glad! Bring hither the fatted morocco and let us rebind the volume and set it on the shelf of honour, for this my book was lent and is returned again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Presently, therefore, I may return some of the books I myself have borrowed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113155144700995689?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113155144700995689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113155144700995689&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113155144700995689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113155144700995689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2005/11/passion-for-books.html' title='A PASSION FOR BOOKS'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113129978689809899</id><published>2005-11-06T23:11:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-15T22:43:26.126+05:30</updated><title type='text'>BRAVO VC!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/1600/vc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/200/vc.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This year a Malayali is being honoured by the prestigious FRANKFURT BOOK FAIR. It is my friend Mr. V C THOMAS who is Senior Manager with D C BOOKS, Kottayam. He is the only Indian literary agent to get the Frankfurt Bookfair Fellowship this year. Mr. Thomas, who is now in HAMBURG, takes us to the land of Hitler, present and past.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&gt;&gt;AT THE BEAUTIFUL CITY OF HAMBURG...&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here at the port city of Hamburg, one of richest and fast growing&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;cities in Germany, we are having a pleasant autumn even at the&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;beginning of  November, which is quite unusual. "Hamburg-my birth&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;place -is one of the most&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; beautiful places in Germany", brags Ms. Ulrike Ostermeyer, Editorial&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; Director Fiction at Ullstein Buch Verlage one of the noted book&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;publishing houses in Berlin. She is interested in Basheer's works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Ya Illahi !!!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I am staying at the heart of  Hamburg at Halestrasse near Hansastrasse,&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;underground station. It is one of the posh quarters of the city with&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;elegant late 19th century buildings. Ms. Heppel, editor for popular&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;fiction at Rowohlt Verlage the most renowned book publishing brands in&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Germany who drove me to her office the other day told me that the&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;British army left the area undestroyed so that they could live in&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;those houses after the world war II. On our way to Reinbeck a small&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;town 30 km east of Hamburg where Rowohlt is situated , she showed me&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;parts of the city which were thoroughly destructed by fire storms&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;which killed more than eighty thousand people in 1943. "I am not&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;saying that Germans don't deserve that. But the children who died...&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;What they have done?", she asks.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I am on a fellowship at Germany and I am staying with Dr. Ludwig Moos,&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;senior editor non fiction at Rowohlt. The house has published Imre&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Kertez and Elfride Jelinek. I am meeting people at various departments&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;at the publishing house and attempts at learning things which may help&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;me back at Kerala.&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day Dr. Moos showed me the little engraved copper squires which&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;are laid in front of the apartments adjacent to sidewalk at&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Hansastrasse. Each squire stands for a particular flat in the facing&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;apartment building and what is written is about the Jewish family who&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;lived there till late or early forties before they were send to the&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;concentration camps. He told me that this is part of a private&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;initiative to document the massacre administered by the Nazi regime&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;under Adolf Hitler. The squire that denotes Dr. Moos' house reads as&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;follows:&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAX LUWENTHAL&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BORN 1895&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DEPORTED 1941&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DIED ????&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Moos, a widower in his late 50's is away on his holidays to the&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;German -Polish boarder towns for a week. A much respected editor who&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;works closely with luminaries like Stephen Hawking has given me his&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;keys to his apartment which is spacious but spartan in design.&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am wide awake at wee hours and attempts at figuring out how Max&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;and his family spent forlorn hours anticipating the worst, in this&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;very flat and in this very room over sixty years ago.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="sg"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;script&gt;&lt;!-- D(["mb","concentration camps. He told me that this is part of a private&lt;br /&gt;initiative to document the massacre administered by the Nazi regime&lt;br /&gt;under Adolf Hitler. The squire that denotes Dr. Moos´ house reads as&lt;br /&gt;follows:&lt;br /&gt;MAX LUWENTHAL&lt;br /&gt;BORN 1895&lt;br /&gt;DEPORTED 1941&lt;br /&gt;DIED ????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Moos a widower in his late 50s is away on his holidays to the&lt;br /&gt;German -Polish boarder towns for a week. A much respected editor who&lt;br /&gt;works closely with luminaries like Stephen Hawking has given me his&lt;br /&gt;keys to his apartment which is spacious but spartan in design.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am wide awake at wee hours and attempts at figuring out how Max&lt;br /&gt;and his family spent forlorn hours anticipating the worst, in this&lt;br /&gt;very flat and in this very room over sixty years ago.&lt;br /&gt;",1] ); D(["mb","&lt;span class="sg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;V C Thomas&lt;br /&gt;from Hamburg, Germany&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;",0] ); D(["ce"]); D(["ms","4d4"] );  //--&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113129978689809899?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113129978689809899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113129978689809899&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113129978689809899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113129978689809899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2005/11/bravo-vc.html' title='BRAVO VC!'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113121321949896515</id><published>2005-11-05T22:52:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-15T22:42:41.753+05:30</updated><title type='text'>WANT TO LAUGH?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/1600/hoja3.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/320/hoja3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have got many a complaint that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;tom online&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; is lacking humour. Everybody wants to laugh. Everybody loves to laugh. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am agreeing with you my dear friends. Here are three MULLAH NASREDDIN stories. All are taken from WIKIPEDIA. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A few words on Mullah. He was a lower Muslim cleric who lived among the Middle-eastern people in the Middle Ages. Nasreddin was a populist philosopher and wise man, remembered for his funny stories and anecdotes. He often appears as a whimsical character of a large Persian, Arab and Turkish folk tradition of vignettes, not entirely different from zen koans.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&gt;&gt;WHO do you trust?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A neighbour comes to the gate of Nasreddin Hoja's yard. The Hoja goes out to meet him outside. "Would you mind, Hoja," the neighbour asks, "to lend me your donkey today? I have some goods to transport to the next town." The Hoja doesn't feel inclined to lend out the animal to that particular man, however; so, not to seem rude, he answers: "I'm sorry, but I've already lent him to somebody else." Suddenly the donkey can be heard braying loudly behind the wall of the yard. "You lied to me, Hoja!" the neighbour exclaims. "There it is behind that wall!" "What do you mean?" the Hoja replies indignantly. "Whom would you rather believe, a donkey or your Hoja??"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&gt;&gt;Camel RIDE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, the venerable Mullah Nasrudin came galloping on camel-back through a small village. His camel carried him at a rush into and out of the village without stop, while the villagers all stared in curiosity at his passing. The very next day, the Mullah and his camel came rushing back through the village, all the time his eyes furiously searching on all sides of him. Again, the villagers watched open mouthed wondering just what Nasrudin was up to. On the third day, the Mullah Nasrudin and his camel once again came galloping through the village, but this time a small boy ran out in front, causing him to screech to a halt.:&lt;br /&gt;   The small boy asked, "Great Mullah, what are you looking for?!"&lt;br /&gt;   The Mullah Nasrudin responded, "For my camel. Have you seen him?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&gt;&gt;The LOST Key&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One night, a neighbor strolling by Nasrudin's house found him outside under the street lamp brushing through the dust. "Have you lost something, my friend?" he asked. Nasrudin explained that he had lost his key and asked the neighbor to help him find it. After some minutes of searching and turning up nothing, the neighbor asked him, "Are you sure you lost the key here?" "No, I did not lose it here. I lost it inside the house," Nasrudin answered. "If you lost the key in the house, Nasrudin, why are you looking for it out here?" "Well, there's more light out here, of course," Nasrudin replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113121321949896515?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113121321949896515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113121321949896515&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113121321949896515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113121321949896515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2005/11/want-to-laugh.html' title='WANT TO LAUGH?'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113112231091706064</id><published>2005-11-04T21:31:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-15T22:42:15.663+05:30</updated><title type='text'>EID MUBARAK ALONGWITH RUMI</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/1600/rumi3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/200/rumi3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Jelaluddin Rumi is famous for his beautiful rendering of mystic poems about everything from bewilderment, emptiness and silence to flirtation, elegance and majesty. He rendered them with love, humour, warmth and tenderness. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Rumi was born in the year 1207 and died in 1273. He is regarded as the greatest Sufi mystic and poet in the Persian language. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;On this happy occasion of Eid Al Fitr, let us take in some words of Jelaluddin Rumi and feel ourselves transported to the magical, mystical place of a whirling, ecstatic poet. This is taken from THE ESSENTIAL RUMI published by Castle Books. My dear friends, EID MUBARAK, especially to Sunitha Abubaker, Abdulla and Gudiya.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;BISMILLAH&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It’s a habit of yours to walk slowly.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;You hold a grudge for years.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;With such heaviness, how can you be modest?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;With such attachments, do you expect to arrive anywhere?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be wide as the air to learn a secret.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Right now you’re equal portions clay&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;and water, thick mud.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abraham learned how the sun and moon and the stars all set.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He said, &lt;i style=""&gt;No longer will I try to assign partners for God.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are so weak. Give up to grace.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The ocean takes care of each wave&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;till it gets to shore.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;You need more help than you know.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;You’re trying to live your life in open scaffolding.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Say Bismillah, &lt;i style=""&gt;In the name God,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As the priest does with knife when he offers an animal.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bismillah&lt;/i&gt; your old self&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;to find your real name.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113112231091706064?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113112231091706064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113112231091706064&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113112231091706064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113112231091706064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2005/11/eid-mubarak-alongwith-rumi.html' title='EID MUBARAK ALONGWITH RUMI'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113095220583636304</id><published>2005-11-02T22:00:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-15T22:41:08.700+05:30</updated><title type='text'>E. SANTHOSH KUMAR 'STRIKES' AGAIN!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/1600/chavukali.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/400/chavukali.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Mr. E. Santhosh kumar is not a '&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;sradheyanaya yuva sahityakaran&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;'! So, I believe, he may never be able to get the 'importance' of some 'yuva' breed, who used to get more awards than the number of works published. But, I believe, he writes stories which are honoured in the minds of real readers. Now his latest collection of stories is out: CHAVUKALI. It is released at Thrissur by noted critic Mr. V.C. Sreejan.&lt;br /&gt;I liked almost all the stories in his collections 'Moonnu Andhanmar Aanye Vivarikkunnu' and 'Chavukali'. (I am yet to read his first book 'Galapagos'. ) His stories are painted in black, but in a very colourful way. They are really light as well as very heavy. I like this double edged craftsmanship. Double cheers Santhosh!&lt;br /&gt;Here is a note on 'Chavukali' by the painter-writer Ms. KAVITHA BALAKRISHNAN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&gt;&gt;Some ‘OTHER' WORLDS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;‘Chavukali’ is the third short story collection of the new generation Malayalam story writer, E.Santhosh Kumar. This collection has eleven stories, all projecting a hitherto untapped black human life with a tinge of ironic humor in all. Most of the stories present a cross section of people in our contemporary life that can claim no great hallowed entries in their bio data and personal history.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;These people have jail life, parole, gunda –ism as entries characterizing their life but all these identifiers are used for yet another crime that is justifiable in a smart twist of effective story writing (‘Chavukali’).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;But there are some ‘other worlds’ -superficially peaceful skyscraper life where even a death doesn’t leave any mark other than the chalk circles drawn by the police( ‘oru maranam, niravadhi maranangal’) –&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The deadly tranquility with which generations pass their hobbies possessions and knowledge (‘Thadakam’) –&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The polar male-female opposites that experience body-centered lacks that are always expressed in much convoluted manner through contradictory symbols and dialogues ( ‘Chekka’)-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The ambiguities created in natural orders of life of those who mingle with ‘nature’ by those who make use of ‘nature’ for new systems of capital and production (‘Kattadimarangal’)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The dark world of a father and son who deal with dead bodies in railway tracks (‘Kankettukatha’),&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;different class relationships that men establish with snakes for a living (‘Sarppasathram’)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;A systematic and symbolic recuperation of feudal personal history that politically shows revolutionary ideals and modern attitudes as only some ‘decade long’ interludes in an untamable history of unseen symbolic power traditionally exerted over human vulnerability. (‘Chitrapurushan’)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;E.Santhoshkumar approaches his subjects directly through a dialogic language that terribly actualizes many hidden realities and impure logics of life.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;script&gt;&lt;!-- D(["mb"," \n \n- Kavitha Balakrishnan \n \n\n&lt;/p&gt;\n&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;\n&lt;a href="\" partner="3\" target="\" onclick="\"&gt;&lt;img border="\" vspace="\" hspace="\" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;\n\r\n",0] ); D(["ce"]); D(["ms","484"] );  //--&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113095220583636304?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113095220583636304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113095220583636304&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113095220583636304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113095220583636304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2005/11/e-santhosh-kumar-strikes-again.html' title='E. SANTHOSH KUMAR &apos;STRIKES&apos; AGAIN!'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113086468880589887</id><published>2005-11-01T22:09:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-15T22:40:25.950+05:30</updated><title type='text'>OSHO ON CELEBRATION</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/1600/osho4.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/200/osho4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Osho may be the most misunderstood philosopher from India. Many could not find his thoughts acceptabe. Anyway, let us read an excerpt from his book LIFE'S MYSTERIES published by PENGUIN INDIA. Here he shares his thoughts on celebration. Worth reading in these days of celebrations. Have a nice time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&gt;&gt;Celebrate EVERYTHING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I am in trmendous love with life, hence I teach celebration. Everything has to be celebrated, everything has to be lived, loved. To me nothing is mundane and nothing is sacred. To me all is sacred, from the lowest rung of the ladder to the highest rung. It is the same ladder: from the body to the soul, from the physical to the spiritual, from sex to samadhi- everything is divine!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Celebration is the foundation of my sanyas- not renunciation but rejoicing; rejoicing in all the beauties, all the joys, all that life offers, because this whole life is a gift of God.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113086468880589887?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113086468880589887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113086468880589887&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113086468880589887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113086468880589887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2005/11/osho-on-celebration.html' title='OSHO ON CELEBRATION'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113081359290537276</id><published>2005-11-01T08:21:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-01T08:23:12.906+05:30</updated><title type='text'>LET US CELEBRATE!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/1600/diwali2.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/320/diwali2.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;HAPPY&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;DIWALI,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;MY DEAR&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;FRIENDS.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"&gt;HAVE A&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;NICE TIME!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113081359290537276?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113081359290537276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113081359290537276&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113081359290537276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113081359290537276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2005/11/let-us-celebrate.html' title='LET US CELEBRATE!!'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113068661538609697</id><published>2005-10-30T21:04:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-15T22:15:07.346+05:30</updated><title type='text'>WHY STEVE WANTS TO STAY FOOLISH!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/1600/steve%20jobs2.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/200/steve%20jobs2.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;STEVE JOBS, the everything of APPLE INC. never needs introduction. It is this no-nonsense man who has shaped and later reshaped Apple. I love to love everything what he does. Without him, desktops of our personal computers would not have been this much ‘sexy’ or our operating systems this much user-friendly. Here you can read an excerpt from the commencement address he delivered at &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;st1:place face="arial"&gt;&lt;st1:placename&gt;Stanford&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placetype&gt;University&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; recently. It is longer than ‘enough’. But it is worth reading. If you are not patient enough to read it on the screen, take a print and read at once. It will certainly have an &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;Alchemist (of Paulo Coelho) Effect&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; on you.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;         &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&gt;&gt;Stay FOOLISH&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This story is about connecting the dots. I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months before I really quit. Looking back, it was one of the best decisions I ever made. I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms, I returned Coke bottles for the 5 cent deposits to buy food with, and I would walk seven miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Here's one example: &lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;st1:placename&gt;Reed&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placetype&gt;College&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class. I learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about what makes great typography great. Ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;If I had never dropped in on that course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or for that matter even proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied Mac, it's likely no personal computer would have them. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;But it was very clear looking backwards 10 years later. You can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Don't let the noise of other's opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalogue.In the final issue, on the back cover, they put a photograph of an early morning country road. Beneath it were the words: Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. It was their farewell message as they signed off. I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you: STAY HUNGRY. STAY FOOLISH.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113068661538609697?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113068661538609697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113068661538609697&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113068661538609697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113068661538609697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2005/10/why-steve-wants-to-stay-foolish.html' title='WHY STEVE WANTS TO STAY FOOLISH!'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113060480835629372</id><published>2005-10-29T21:52:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-15T22:14:32.926+05:30</updated><title type='text'>SMILE PLEASE!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/1600/advt3.2.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/400/advt3.0.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Advertising campaigns are not primarily intended to gift you a smile. And the advertisemet people never create anything to be laughed upon. Their very serious clients (eat business drink busines and excrete business kind of people) may never be able to laugh if that happened to happen. However, we used to get many funny things from the ad world. Here is a nice example. This was forwarded to my wife SWAPNA by her friend Ms. ANCY JOMY. If you stock anything of this kind, please do post here. Let our frieds have a chance to smile and relax.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" &gt;&gt;&gt;Your WIFE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;You may prefer your wife to be like ALUKKAS JEWELLERY (Ennum Oru Panathookkam Munnil), SKY JEWELLERY (25 Years Of Purity And Trust), MALABAR JEWELLERY (Beauty Meets Quality)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;But not like ATLAS JEWELLERY (Janakodikalude Viswastha Sthapanam)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113060480835629372?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113060480835629372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113060480835629372&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113060480835629372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113060480835629372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2005/10/smile-please.html' title='SMILE PLEASE!'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113052654325947184</id><published>2005-10-29T00:16:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-15T22:14:01.496+05:30</updated><title type='text'>JIDDU KRISHNAMURTI</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/1600/jiddu.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2323/1792/200/jiddu.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Krishnamurti was a wonderful genius. He claimed allegiance to no caste, nationality or religion and was bound by no tradition. He said man has to free himself of all fear, conditioning, authority and dogma through self-knowledge and this will bring about order and psychological mutation. The conflict-ridden violent world, he suggested, cannot be transformed into a life of goodness, love and compassion by any political, social or economic strategies, but only through this mutation in individuals brought about through their own observation, without the mediation of any guru or organized religion.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Here are two quotes from THE BOOK OF LIFE. These were sent by my friend Ms. SUNEETHA TV, a television producer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&gt;&gt;ANONYMOUS Creativity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Have you ever thought about it? We want to be famous as a writer, as a poet, as a painter, as a politician, as a singer, or what you will. Why? Because we really don't love what we are doing. If you loved to sing, or to paint, or to write poems—if you really loved it—you would not be concerned with whether you are famous or not. To want to be famous is tawdry, trivial, stupid, it has no meaning; but, because we don't love what we are doing, we want to enrich ourselves with fame. Our present education is rotten because it teaches us to love success and not what we are doing. The result has become more important than the action. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;You know, it is good to hide your brilliance under a bushel, to be anonymous, to love what you are doing and not to show off. It is good to be kind without a name. That does not make you famous, it does not cause your photograph to appear in the newspapers. Politicians do not come to your door. You are just a creative human being living anonymously, and in that there is richness and great beauty. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;OUTSIDE the Field of Thought&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;You have changed your ideas, you have changed your thought, but thought is always conditioned. Whether it is the thought of Jesus, Buddha, X, Y, or Z, it is still thought, and therefore one thought can be in opposition to another thought; and when there is opposition, a conflict between two thoughts, the result is a modified continuity of thought. In other words, the change is still within the field of thought, and change within the field of thought is no change at all. One idea or set of ideas has merely been substituted for another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing this whole process, is it possible to leave thought and bring about a change outside the field of thought? All consciousness, surely, whether it is of the past, the present, or the future, is within the field of thought; and any change within that field, which sets the boundaries of the mind, is no real change. A radical change can take place only outside the field of thought, not within it, and the mind can leave the field only when it sees the confines, the boundaries of the field, and realizes that any change within the field is no change at all. This is real meditation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113052654325947184?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113052654325947184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113052654325947184&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113052654325947184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113052654325947184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2005/10/jiddu-krishnamurti.html' title='JIDDU KRISHNAMURTI'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18339743.post-113042616474656572</id><published>2005-10-27T20:37:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-22T02:40:15.684+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.</title><content type='html'>This is the text of the Commencement address by Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple Computer and of Pixar Animation Studios, delivered at STANFORD's graduation ceremony on June 12, 2005.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That's it. No big deal. Just three stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first story is about connecting the dots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: "We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?" They said: "Of course." My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms, I returned coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, its likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My second story is about love and loss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was lucky — I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4000 employees. We had just released our finest creation — the Macintosh — a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down - that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me — I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the worlds first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I returned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple's current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith. I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My third story is about death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I'm fine now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope its the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960's, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you all very much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18339743-113042616474656572?l=tomjm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/feeds/113042616474656572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18339743&amp;postID=113042616474656572&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113042616474656572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18339743/posts/default/113042616474656572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomjm.blogspot.com/2005/10/zacharia-randaman.html' title='Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.'/><author><name>Tom Mangatt</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSnMBsjO2hQ/TOnS7K0AGUI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XCNLLKA_XeI/S220/tom-2010-250x250.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
