<?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-14131358</id><updated>2012-01-09T21:24:53.732-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Restless Gemini</title><subtitle type='html'>Έν οίδα ότι ουδέν οίδα --- 

Hen oida hoti ouden oida</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>106</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-114292067432039182</id><published>2006-03-20T21:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-20T21:57:54.340-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Winners...</title><content type='html'>A Winner is NOT one who NEVER FAILS......But one who NEVER QUITS!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 Real Life Incident and Learn not to Quit in life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Officials rejected a candidate for a news broadcasters post since his voice was not fit for a news broadcaster. He was also told that with his obnoxiously long name, he would never be famous. He is  Amitabh Bachchan. &lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------- &lt;br /&gt;2)In 1962, four nervous young musicians played their first record audition &lt;br /&gt;for the executives of the Decca Recording Company. The executives were not impressed. While turning down&lt;br /&gt;this group of musicians, one executive said, "We don't like! their sound.Groups of guitars are on the way out." The group was called The Beatles. &lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------- 3)In 1944, Emmeline Snively, director of the Blue Book Modeling Agency told modeling hopeful Norma Jean Baker, "You'd better learn secretarial work or else get married". She went on and became Marilyn Monroe. &lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;4)In 1954, Jimmy Denny, manager of the Grand Ole Opry, fired a singer after one performance. He told him, "You ain't goin' nowhere son. You ought to go back to&lt;br /&gt;drivin' a truck". He went on to become &lt;br /&gt;Elvis Presley. &lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;5)A small boy--the fifth amongst seven siblings of a poor father, was selling newspapers in a small village to earn his&lt;br /&gt;living. He was not exceptionally smart at school but was fascinated by religion and rockets. The first rocket he built crashed. A missile that he built crashed &lt;br /&gt;multiple times and he was made a butt of ridicule. He is the person to have scripted the Space Odyssey of India single-handedly. He is Dr. A.P.J. Abdul Kalam. President of India. &lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------- &lt;br /&gt;6)When Alexander Graham Bell invented the telephone in 1876, it did not ring off the hook with calls from potential backers. &lt;br /&gt;After making a demonstration call, President Rutherford Hayes said, &lt;br /&gt;"That's an amazing invention, but who would ever want to see one of them?" &lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------- &lt;br /&gt;7)When Thomas Edison invented the light bulb, he tried over 2000 experiments before he got it to work. A young reporter asked him how it felt to fail so many&lt;br /&gt;times. He said, "I never failed once. I invented the light bulb. It just happened to be a 2000-step process". &lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------- &lt;br /&gt;8)In the 1940s, another young inventor named Chester Carlson took his idea to 20 corporations, including some of the biggest in the country. They all turned him down. In 1947, after 7 long yearsof rejections, &lt;br /&gt;he finally got a tiny company in Rochester, NY, the Haloid Company, to purchase the rights to his invention--an electrostatic paper-copying process. Haloid became &lt;br /&gt;Xerox Corporation. &lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------ &lt;br /&gt;9)A little girl--the 20th of 22 children, &lt;br /&gt;was born prematurely and her survival was doubtful. When she was 4 years old, &lt;br /&gt;she contracted double pneumonia and scarlet fever, which left her with aparalyzed left leg. At age 9, she removed the metal leg brace she had been&lt;br /&gt;dependent on and began to walk without it. By 13 she had developed a rhythmic&lt;br /&gt;walk, which doctors said was a miracle. That same year shedecided to become a runner. She entered a race and came in last. For the next few years every &lt;br /&gt;race she entered, she came in last. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone told her to quit, but she kept on running. One day she actually won a race. &lt;br /&gt;And then another. From then on she won every race she entered. Eventually this little girl-- Wilma Rudolph, went on to win three Olympic gold medals. &lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------- &lt;br /&gt;10)A school teacher scolded a boy for not paying attention to his mathematics &lt;br /&gt;and for not being able to solve simple problems. She told him that you would not become anybody in life. The boy was Albert Einstein&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-114292067432039182?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/114292067432039182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=114292067432039182' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/114292067432039182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/114292067432039182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2006/03/winners.html' title='Winners...'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113945207212179914</id><published>2006-02-08T18:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-08T18:27:52.140-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Point of View</title><content type='html'>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 travelling 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;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 travelling bag. Sitting there in your bag is your original box of cookies -- 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 new point of view. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Is it time to change your point of view?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Now, think of this story as it relates to your life . 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;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113945207212179914?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113945207212179914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113945207212179914' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113945207212179914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113945207212179914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2006/02/point-of-view.html' title='A Point of View'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113837946421267038</id><published>2006-01-27T08:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T08:31:04.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Age Seatbelt</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/seatbelt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/seatbelt.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113837946421267038?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113837946421267038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113837946421267038' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113837946421267038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113837946421267038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2006/01/new-age-seatbelt.html' title='New Age Seatbelt'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113755555883970378</id><published>2006-01-17T19:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-17T19:39:18.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One Liners</title><content type='html'>Ø When I was born, I was so surprised I didn't talk for a year and a half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø Join the army, see the world, meet interesting people, and kill them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø Until I was 13, I thought my name was 'Shut Up.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø I'm not afraid to die. I just don't want to be there when it happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø Always and never are two words you should always remember never to use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø I've never been drunk, but often I've been over served.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø The road to success is always under construction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø I say no to drugs -- they just don't listen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø Marriage is one of the chief causes of divorce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø Work is fine if it doesn't take up too much of your time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø When everything's coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø Born free; Taxed to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø Everyone has a photographic memory; some people just don't have film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø Life is unsure; always eat your dessert first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø Smile -- it makes people wonder what you're up to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø I love being a writer... what I can't stand is the paperwork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø A printer consists of 3 main parts: the case, the jammed paper tray and the blinking red light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø The hardest part of skating is the ice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø The guy who invented the first wheel was an idiot; the guy who invented the other three, he was the genius.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø The trouble with being punctual is that there's no one there to appreciate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø If our constitution allows us free speech, why are there phone bills?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø If you tell a man there are 300 billion stars in the universe, he'll believe you. But if you tell him a park bench has just been painted, he has to touch it to be sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø Beat the 5 O'clock rush: leave work at noon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø If you can't convince them, confuse them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø It's not the fall that kills you; it's the sudden stop at the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø I couldn't repair your brakes, so I made your horn louder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø Hot glass looks same as cold glass. (Cunino's Law of Burnt Fingers)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ø Someday is not a day of the week&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113755555883970378?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113755555883970378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113755555883970378' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113755555883970378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113755555883970378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2006/01/one-liners.html' title='One Liners'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113749913316998770</id><published>2006-01-17T03:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-17T03:58:53.186-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Put a Shark in your Fish Tank</title><content type='html'>The Japanese have always loved fresh fish. But the waters close to Japan have not held many fish for decades. So to feed the Japanese population, fishing boats got bigger and went farther than ever. The farther the fishermen went, the longer it took to bring in the fish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the return trip took more than a few days, the fish were not fresh. The Japanese did not like the taste. To solve this problem, fishing companies installed freezers on their boats. They would catch the fish and freeze them at sea. Freezers allowed the boats to go farther and stay longer. However, the Japanese could taste the difference between fresh and frozen and they did not like frozen fish. The frozen fish brought a lower price. So fishing companies installed fish tanks. They would catch the fish and stuff them in the tanks, fin to fin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a little thrashing around, the fish stopped moving. They were tired and dull, but alive. Unfortunately, the Japanese could still taste the difference. Because the fish did not move for days, they lost their fresh-fish taste. The Japanese preferred the lively taste of fresh fish, not sluggish fish. So how did Japanese fishing companies solve this problem?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do they get fresh-tasting fish to Japan?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were consulting the fish industry, what would you recommend? As soon as you reach your goals, such as finding a wonderful mate, starting a successful company, paying off your debts or whatever, you might lose your passion. You don't need to work so hard so you relax. You experience the same problem as lottery winners who waste their money, wealthy heirs who never grow up and bored homemakers who get addicted to prescription drugs. Like the Japanese fish problem, the best solution is simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was observed by L. Ron Hubbard in the early 1950's. "Man thrives, oddly enough, only in the presence of a challenging environment."- L. Ron Hubbard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Benefits of a Challenge:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more intelligent, persistent and competent you are, the more you enjoy a good problem. If your challenges are the correct size, and if you are steadily conquering those challenges, you are happy. You think of your challenges and get energized. You are excited to try new solutions. You have fun. You are alive!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How Japanese Fish Stay Fresh:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To keep the fish tasting fresh, the Japanese fishing companies still put the fish in the tanks. But now they add a small shark to each tank. The shark eats a few fish, but most of the fish arrive in a very lively state. The fish are challenged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recommendations:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of avoiding challenges, jump into them. Beat the heck out of them. Enjoy the game. If your challenges are too large or too numerous, do not give up. Failing makes you tired. Instead, reorganize. Find more determination, more knowledge, more help.&lt;br /&gt;If you have met your goals, set some bigger goals. Once you meet your personal or family needs, move onto goals for your group, the society, even mankind. Don't create success and lie in it.&lt;br /&gt;You have resources, skills and abilities to make a difference. Put a shark in your tank and see how far you can really go!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113749913316998770?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113749913316998770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113749913316998770' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113749913316998770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113749913316998770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2006/01/put-shark-in-your-fish-tank.html' title='Put a Shark in your Fish Tank'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113695738826059025</id><published>2006-01-10T21:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-10T21:29:48.280-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gems from Jim Rohn</title><content type='html'>&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Success is not to be pursued; it is to be attracted by the person you become.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Failure is not a single, cataclysmic event. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You don'tfail overnight. Instead, failure is a few errors injudgment, repeated every day.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't take the casual approach to life. Casualness leads to casualties.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Success is the study of the obvious. Everyone shouldtake Obvious I and Obvious II in school.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It's too bad failures don't give seminars. Wouldn'tthat be valuable? &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If you meet a guy who has messed up his life for forty years, you've just got to say,"John, if I bring my journal and promise to take goodnotes, would you spend a day with me?"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Success is not so much what we have as it is what we are.Success is 20% skills and 80% strategy. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You might know how to read, but more importantly, what's your plan to read?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Average people look for ways of getting away with it;successful people look for ways of getting on with it. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You cannot take the mild approach to the weeds in your mental garden. You have got to hate weeds enough to kill them. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Weeds are not something you handle; weeds are something you devastate.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Humility is a virtue; timidity is a disease.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Effective communication is 20% what you know and 80%how you feel about what you know.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;What is powerful is when what you say is just the tip of the iceberg of what you know. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If you spend five minutes complaining, you have just wasted five minutes. If you continue complaining, itwon't be long before they haul you out to a financialdesert and there let you choke on the dust of your own regret.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do preserve yourself and others while evolving continuously...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113695738826059025?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113695738826059025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113695738826059025' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113695738826059025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113695738826059025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2006/01/gems-from-jim-rohn.html' title='Gems from Jim Rohn'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113636865772061016</id><published>2006-01-04T01:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-10T21:36:12.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Murphy's Tech Laws</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Murphy's Technology Law #1:You can never tell which way the train went by looking at the track. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Murphy's Technology Law #2:Logic is a systematic method of coming to the wrong conclusion with confidence. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Murphy's Technology Law #3:Technology is dominated by those who manage what they do not understand.&lt;br /&gt;Murphy's Technology Law #4:If builders built buildings the way programmers wrote programs, then the first woodpecker that came along would destroy civilization. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Murphy's Technology Law #5:An expert is one who knows more and more about less and less until he/she knows absolutely everything about nothing. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Murphy's Technology Law #6:Tell a man there are 300 billion stars in the universe, and he'll believe you. Tell him a bench has wet paint on it, and he'll have to touch to be sure. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Murphy's Technology Law #7:All great discoveries are made by mistake. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Murphy's Technology Law #8:Nothing ever gets built on schedule or within budget. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Murphy's Technology Law #9:All's well that ends... period. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Murphy's Technology Law #10:A meeting is an event at which minutes are kept and hours are lost. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Murphy's Technology Law #11:The first myth of management is that it exists.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Murphy's Technology Law #12:A failure will not appear until a unit has passed final inspection. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Murphy's Technology Law #13:New systems generate new problems. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Murphy's Technology Law #14:To err is human, but to really foul things up requires a computer.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Murphy's Technology Law #15:We don't know one-millionth of one percent about anything. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Murphy's Technology Law #16:Any given program, when running, is obsolete. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Murphy's Technology Law #17:A computer makes as many mistakes in two seconds as 20 men working 20 years make.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113636865772061016?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113636865772061016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113636865772061016' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113636865772061016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113636865772061016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2006/01/murphys-tech-laws.html' title='Murphy&apos;s Tech Laws'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113601224548515136</id><published>2005-12-30T22:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-30T22:57:25.506-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/new2006cf_wtv.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/new2006cf_wtv.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113601224548515136?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113601224548515136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113601224548515136' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113601224548515136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113601224548515136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113591359338460930</id><published>2005-12-29T19:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-29T19:33:13.403-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mind of a Rapist</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Some years back, a Hindi movie by the name 'Lajja' was released.  This controversial movie had depicted the plight of rape victims.  However the movie could not make a big impact at the box office.  But I was very impressed by the creative which was published in newspapers to promote this movie at that time.  It depicted a woman's expressive eyes in close up with a drop of tear falling from her left eye with a caption "Rape : An ordeal only a woman can understand".  Although I have never watched that movie the caption has managed to stay in my memory for more than 4 years now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was reminded of this caption after reading these two news items recently.&lt;br /&gt; 1.  &lt;a href="http://www.indianexpress.com/full_story.php?content_id=84118"&gt;BPO rape, murder clouds Bangalore&lt;/a&gt; - The victim's mother-in-law herself had seen her off for work with the rapist, not knowing what was going to happen to her.  It did really hurt me, no words to explain my agony.&lt;br /&gt;2.  &lt;a href="http://www.indianexpress.com/full_story.php?content_id=83480"&gt;Woman raped in train&lt;/a&gt; - The victim was raped in front of her husband and co-passengers at knife point.  How inhuman!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These incidents have pained me to a great extent and I have been thinking about this since the last few weeks.  I felt as helpless as the rape victims themselves, as it is upto the people who indulge in such crimes to realise their fault, until such time no amount of law can completely eradicate this crime.  I feel these criminals should be awarded capital punishment to avoid setting a bad precedence to others.   However I wanted to understand what goes on in the mind of the rapists and what makes them to commit such sins.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I searched the web and found this information.Rapists who assault women lead double lives. On the outside they may appear no different from other men. They are members of every race, religion, profession, and socioeconomic group; they are of varying ages and are often members of churches. Many of them impress others as dedicated family men who are good providers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are not insane nor are they "sowing some wild oats." They are men who have serious psychological or personality disorders, which they discharge trough sexual violence. The consequences of this behavior (what may happen to him or to others) has no meaning to the rapist at the time of the assault. Therefore, he is not deterred by such logical considerations as punishment, disgrace to his family, injury to his victim, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rape is always an aggressive and/or violent act. In every act of rape, aggression is involved, but it is clear that the sexual acts are the means of expressing the aggressive needs and feelings that operate in the offender. Either anger or power is the dominant component so that rape, rather than being primarily an expression of sexual desire, is in fact the use of sexuality to express his issues of power and anger. Basically, it involves sexual behavior in the primary service of non-sexual needs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sexuality is NOT the primary motive underlying rape. It is, however the means through which conflicts surrounding issues of anger and power become discharged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read the complete article at :&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://danenet.wicip.org/dcccrsa/saissues/rapist.html"&gt;http://danenet.wicip.org/dcccrsa/saissues/rapist.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113591359338460930?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113591359338460930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113591359338460930' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113591359338460930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113591359338460930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/mind-of-rapist.html' title='Mind of a Rapist'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113585306669840567</id><published>2005-12-29T02:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-29T02:44:26.713-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kaipullai Calling...</title><content type='html'>I have launched my new blog &lt;a href="http://kaipullai.blogspot.com"&gt;'Kaipullai Calling...'&lt;/a&gt; today.  While I would be keeping this blog updated for news that I have read, heard or general titbits/email forwards, you can expect Kaipullai Calling...to be of a more personal nature, about me, my interests and my experiences in English, Tamil or Tanglish.  I would like to thank all my readers for your continued patronage.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113585306669840567?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113585306669840567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113585306669840567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/kaipullai-calling.html' title='Kaipullai Calling...'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113582508044274540</id><published>2005-12-28T18:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-28T18:58:00.456-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Marketing Fundas</title><content type='html'>A professor at the Indian Institute of Management was explaining marketing concepts&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;1. You see a gorgeous girl at a party. You go up to her and say: "I am very rich. Marry me!" - That's Direct Marketing. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;2. You're at a party with a bunch of friends and see a gorgeous girl. One of your friends goes up to her and pointing at you says: "He's very rich. Marry him." - That's Advertising. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. You see a gorgeous girl at a party. You go up to her and get her telephone number. The next day, you call and say: "Hi, I'm very rich. Marry me." - That's &lt;br /&gt;Telemarketing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. You're at a party and see a gorgeous girl. You get up and straighten your tie, you walk up to her and pour her a drink, you open the door of the car for her, pick up her bag after she drops it, offer her ride and then say: "By the way, I'm rich. Will you marry me?" - That's Public Relations. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. You're at a party and see a gorgeous girl. She walks up to ! you and says: "You are very rich! Can you marry me?" - That's Brand Recognition. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. You see a gorgeous girl at a party. You go up to her and say: "I am very rich. Marry me!" She gives you a nice hard slap on your face. - That's Customer Feedback. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. You see a gorgeous girl at a party. You go up to her and say: "I am very rich. Marry me!" And she introduces you to her husband. - That's demand and supply gap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. You see a gorgeous girl at a party. You go up to her and before you say anything, another person come and tells her: "I'm rich. Will you marry me?" and she goes with him - That's competition eating into your market share. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. You see a gorgeous girl at a party. You go up to her and before you say: "I'm rich Marry me!" your wife arrives. - That's restriction for entering new markets.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113582508044274540?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113582508044274540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113582508044274540' title='25 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113582508044274540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113582508044274540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/marketing-fundas.html' title='Marketing Fundas'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>25</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113565532804953449</id><published>2005-12-26T19:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-27T18:58:49.453-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Your Birthdate</title><content type='html'>The birth date describes who we are, what we are good at and what our inborn abilities are. It also points to what we have to learn and the challenges we are facing. To figure out your Birth Number, add all the numbers in the birth date together like in the example until there is&lt;br /&gt;only one digit. The Birth Number does not prevent you from being anything  you want, it will just color your choice differently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example: March 20, 1950&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 + 20 + 1950 = 1973 = 1 + 9 + 7 + 3 = 20 = 2 + 0 = 2&lt;br /&gt;2 is the Birth Number to read for the birth date in the example.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;# 1 THE ORIGINATOR&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1's are originals. Coming up with new ideas and executing them is natural. Having things their own way is another trait that gets them labeled as being stubborn and arrogant. 1's are extremely honest and do well to learn some diplomacy skills. They like to take the initiative and are often leaders or bosses, as they like to be the best. Being self-employed is definitely helpful for them. Lesson to learn: Others' ideas might be just as good or better and to stay open minded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Famous 1's: Tom Hanks, Robert Redford, Hulk Hogan, Carol Burnett, Wynona Judd, Nancy Reagan, Raquel Welch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;# 2 THE PEACEMAKER&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2's are the born diplomats. They aware of others' needs and moods and often think of others before themselves. Naturally analytical and very intuitive they don't like to be alone. Friendship and companionship is very important and can lead them to be successful in life, but on the other hand they'd rather be alone than in an uncomfortable relationship. Being naturally shy they should learn to boost their&lt;br /&gt;self-esteem and express themselves freely and seize the moment and not put things off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Famous 2's: Bill Clinton, Madonna, Whoppie Goldberg,Thomas Edison,Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;# 3 THE LIFE OF THE PARTY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3's are idealists. They are very creative, social, charming,romantic,and easygoing. They start many things, but don't always see them through.They like others to be happy and go to great lengths to achieve it. They are very popular and idealistic. They should learn to see the world from a more realistic point of view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Famous 3's: Griffith,Salvador Dali, Jody Foster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;# 4 THE CONSERVATIVE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4's are sensible and traditional. They like order and routine. They only act when they fully understand what they are expected to do.They like getting their hands dirty and working hard. They are attracted to the outdoors and feel an affinity with nature. They are prepared to wait and can be stubborn and persistent. They should learn to be more flexible and to be nice to themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Famous 4's: Neil Diamond, Margaret Thatcher, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Tina Turner, Paul Hogan, Oprah Winfrey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;# 5 THE NONCONFORMIST&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5's are the explorers. Their natural curiosity, risk taking,and enthusiasm often lands them in hot water. They need diversity, and don't like to be stuck in a rut. The whole world is their school and they see a learning possibility in every  situation. The questions never stop. They are well advised to look before they take action and make sure they have all the facts before jumping to conclusions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Famous 5's: Abraham Lincoln, Charlotte Bronte, Jessica Walter,VincentVan Gogh, Bette Midler, Helen Keller and Mark Hamil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;# 6 THE ROMANTIC&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6's are idealistic and need to feel useful to be happy. A strong family connection is important to them. Their emotions influence their decisions.They have a strong urge to take care of others and to help. They are very loyal and make great teachers. They like art or music. They make loyal friends who take the friendship seriously. 6's should learn to differentiate between what they can change and what&lt;br /&gt;they cannot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Famous 6's: Albert Einstein, Jane Seymour, John Denver, Meryl&lt;br /&gt;Streep,Christopher Columbus, Goldie Hawn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;# 7 THE INTELLECTUAL&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7's are the searchers. Always probing for hidden information, they find it difficult to accept things at face value. Emotions don't sway their decisions. Questioning everything in life, they don't like to be questioned themselves. They're never off to a fast start, and their motto is slow and steady wins the race. They come across as philosophers and being very knowledgeable, and sometimes as loners. They are technically inclined and make great researchers uncovering information. They like&lt;br /&gt;secrets. They live in their own world and should learn what is acceptable and what&lt;br /&gt;not in the world at large. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Famous 7's: William Shakespeare, Lucille Ball, Michael Jackson, JoanBaez,Princess Diana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;# 8 THE BIG SHOT&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8's are the problem solvers. They are professional, blunt and to the point, have good judgement and are decisive. They've grandiose plans and like to live the good life. They are take charge people. They view people objectively. They let you know in no uncertain terms that they are the boss.They should learn to base their decisions on their own needs rather than on what others want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Famous 8's: Edgar Cayce, Barbra Streisand, George Harrison, Jane Fonda,Pablo Picasso, Urethra Franklin, Nostrodamus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;# 9 THE PERFORMER&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9's are natural entertainers. They are very caring and generous, giving away their last dollar to help. With their charm, they have no problem making friends and nobody is a stranger to them. They have so many different personalities that people around them have a hard time mood. To be successful, they need to build a&lt;br /&gt;loving foundation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Famous 9's: Albert Schweitzer, Shirley MacLaine, Harrison Ford, Gloria Steinem, Jimmy Carter, Elvis Presley&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113565532804953449?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113565532804953449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113565532804953449' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113565532804953449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113565532804953449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/your-birthdate.html' title='Your Birthdate'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113565451199273630</id><published>2005-12-26T19:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-26T19:35:12.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How the Internet started?</title><content type='html'>And, lo, it came to pass that the trader by the name of Abraham Com did take unto himself a young wife by the name of Dot. And Dot Com was an attractive  woman, broad of shoulder and long of leg. Indeed, she had been called Amazon Dot Com. And she said unto Abraham, her husband, "Why doth thou travel far from town to town with thy goods, when thou can trade without ever leaving thy tent?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Abraham did look at her as though she were several saddle bags short of a camel load, but simply said, "How, dear?" And Dot replied, "I will place drums in all the towns and drums in between to send messages saying what you have for sale and they will reply telling you which hath the best price. And the sale can be made on the drums and delivery by Uriah's Pony Stable (UPS)." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abraham thought long and decided he would let Dot have her way with the drums. And Dot said, "There will be a lot of banging in the land." And Abraham replied, "It is my most fervent wish that this be so." And the drums rang out and were an immediate success. Abraham sold all the goods he had, at the top price, without ever moving from his tent. But his success did arouse envy. A man named Maccabia did hide himself inside Abraham's drum and was accused of insider trading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the young did take to Dot Com's trading as doth the greedy horsefly to camel dung. They were called Nomadic Ecclesiastical Rich Dominican Siderites,or NERDS for short. And lo, the land was so feverish with joy at the new riches and the deafening sound of drums, that no one noticed that the real riches were going to the drum maker, one Brother William of Gates, who bought up every drum maker in the land. And indeed did insist on making drums that would only work if&lt;br /&gt;you bought Brother William's drumsticks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Dot did say, "Oh, Abraham, what we have started is being taken over by others." And as Abraham looked out over the Bay of Ezekiel, or as it came to be known, "eBay," he said, "We need a name of a service that reflects what we are." And Dot replied, "Young Ambitious Hebrew Owner Operators."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Whoopee!" said Abraham.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, YAHOO!" said Dot Com.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113565451199273630?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113565451199273630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113565451199273630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113565451199273630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113565451199273630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/how-internet-started.html' title='How the Internet started?'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113557432914918940</id><published>2005-12-25T20:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-26T04:04:27.843-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unstoppable Wave</title><content type='html'>26th of December 2004, as I lay slouching on my bed lazily sipping tea and watching TV, I was interrupted by ticker messages running across the screen that a giant wave has hit the Eastern Coast of India.  Minutes later I found myself calling my family at Chennai and was relieved to know that they were safe, as our home was within 2km from the Bay of Bengal.  But the same was not true for some, who lived not so far from my home.  As I later learnt it was much more than a giant wave and had affected many countries in SE Asia.  The worst affected being Indonesia.  People who prided having a home near the Sea, for the first time feared it, as was evident from the drop in property rates on the eastern side(sea side)witnessed in Chennai.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/ts_marina.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/ts_marina.1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Damage in Marina Beach, Chennai &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tsunami had suddenly become a household name, with makeshift settlements and babies born during this calamity named after Tsunami.  I myself have heard so many stories about how people fell prey to the killer waves.  Early morning joggers to the Marina beach, people who had ventured into the sea, people who had gone to the seafront to offer last rites to the departed - all were washed away by this Tsunami.  A particularly sorry tale was that of an old washerwoman, who after having run a considerable distance from the sea when the Tsunami struck, went back to pick up the &lt;br /&gt;clothes she was ironing, only to be swept away.  It has been exactly an year today, people are slowly getting over the trauma, but the damages have been permanent.  Its always difficult to digest the fact that your loved ones are not there anymore...isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday evening I watched a programme called "Unstoppable Wave" in Discovery Channel.  Scientists and Tsunamic experts, have made a remarkable scientific discovery, 260 kilometres off the coast of Banda Aceh,Indonesia, with the aid of seismic survey equipment and remotely operated underwater vehicles (ROVs) – the team collects the data required to not only understand last year's tsunami, but to develop a computer model that could be used to predict the size of future tsunamis elsewhere in the world, and ultimately, help save thousands of lives. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost five kilometres below the ocean surface, one ROV reveals evidence that the sea floor was pushed upwards during the Sumatra earthquake. Scientists now confirm that this uplift caused the deadly tsunami – 1,200 kilometres of the fault line ruptured in just 500 seconds, causing a drastic uplift, raising the ocean waters above, and triggering the deadly wave. Scientists were also predicting a Tsunami to hit Washington and Oregon in the US and have already started taking precautionary measures and Tsunami early warning systems to ward off Nature's fury.  All said and done, one can only hope that such natural calamities do not occur anywhere else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113557432914918940?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113557432914918940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113557432914918940' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113557432914918940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113557432914918940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/unstoppable-wave.html' title='Unstoppable Wave'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113557035238256603</id><published>2005-12-25T19:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-25T20:12:32.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Gift of the Magi</title><content type='html'>Iam reminded of this beautiful story...a classic by O'Henry, that so effectively captures the love and affection between two individuals and the spirit of giving and receiving.  What better time than this festive season, to share it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/FA06046.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/FA06046.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read it here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.auburn.edu/~vestmon/Gift_of_the_Magi.html"&gt;http://www.auburn.edu/~vestmon/Gift_of_the_Magi.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following lines from this story sums it all...&lt;br /&gt;"The magi, as you know, were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi. "&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113557035238256603?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113557035238256603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113557035238256603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113557035238256603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113557035238256603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/gift-of-magi.html' title='The Gift of the Magi'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113556698220686180</id><published>2005-12-25T18:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-25T19:16:22.220-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How to make an Aeroplane?</title><content type='html'>Over an impulse, I googled today morning for "How to make an Aeroplane?", hoping to find something of the sort of cutting Balsa wood(may be they don't use this to make the modern planes), how they make the cockpit, how the paraphernalia are fitted etc.,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead I found this...&lt;a href="http://www.zurqui.co.cr/crinfocus/paper/airplane.html"&gt;"The best airplane in the World" &lt;/a&gt; with step-by-step instructions to build it.  Try this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/dc3.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/dc3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113556698220686180?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113556698220686180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113556698220686180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113556698220686180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113556698220686180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/how-to-make-aeroplane.html' title='How to make an Aeroplane?'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113541604623775546</id><published>2005-12-24T01:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-24T01:20:46.256-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Season's Greetings</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/Greeting1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/Greeting1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Handwritten and posterized with MS-Photo Editor&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113541604623775546?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113541604623775546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113541604623775546' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113541604623775546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113541604623775546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/seasons-greetings.html' title='Season&apos;s Greetings'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113539496767003395</id><published>2005-12-23T19:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-23T19:29:27.670-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Joke : No matter what</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Forgive me for the language in this joke...but I could not resist having an instant laughter after reading this.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man who was called to testify at the income-tax, asked his accountant for advice on what to wear. "Wear your shabbiest clothing. Let them think you are a pauper," the accountant replied. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he asked his lawyer the same question, but got the opposite advice. "Do not let them intimidate you. Wear your most elegant suit and tie." Confused, the man went to his wife, told him of the conflicting advice, and requested some resolution of the dilemma. "Let me tell you a story," replied the wife. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A woman, about to be married, asked her mother what to wear on her wedding night. 'Wear a heavy, long, flannel nightgown that goes right up to your neck.' &lt;br /&gt;But when she asked her best friend, she got conflicting advice. Wear your most sexy negligee, with a v-neck right down to your navel." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man protested: "What does all this have to do with my problem with the Income-tax?" &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The Wife replied, "No matter what you wear, you are going to get f%*#ked."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113539496767003395?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113539496767003395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113539496767003395' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113539496767003395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113539496767003395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/joke-no-matter-what.html' title='Joke : No matter what'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113539473481592323</id><published>2005-12-23T19:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-23T19:25:34.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ten Commandments</title><content type='html'>The most damaging one letter word : I&lt;br /&gt;Avoid it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most satisfying two-letter word : WE &lt;br /&gt;Use it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most poisonous three-letter word : EGO &lt;br /&gt;Kill it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most used four-letter word : LOVE &lt;br /&gt;Value it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most pleasing five-letter word : SMILE &lt;br /&gt;Keep it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fastest spreading six-letter word : RUMOUR &lt;br /&gt;Ignore it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most enviable seven-letter word : SUCCESS &lt;br /&gt;Achieve it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most nefarious eight-letter word : JEALOUSY &lt;br /&gt;Distance it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most powerful nine-letter word : KNOWLEDGE &lt;br /&gt;Acquire it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most essential ten-letter word : CONFIDENCE &lt;br /&gt;Trust it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113539473481592323?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113539473481592323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113539473481592323' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113539473481592323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113539473481592323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/ten-commandments.html' title='Ten Commandments'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113539339655563089</id><published>2005-12-23T18:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-23T19:03:16.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Invite Love home!</title><content type='html'>A woman came out of her house and saw 3 old men with long white beards sitting in her front yard. She did not recognize them. She said "I don't think I know you, but you must be hungry. Please come in and have something to eat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is the man of the house home?", they asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No", she said. "He's out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Then we cannot come in", they replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the evening when her husband came home, she told him what had happened."Go tell them I am home and invite them in!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman went out and invited the men in. "We do not go into a house together," they replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why is that?" she wanted to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the old men explained: "His name is Wealth," he said pointing to one of his friends, and said pointing to another one,"He is Success,and I am Love." Then he added, "Now go in and discuss with your husband which one of us you want in your home." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman went in and told her husband what was said. Her husband was overjoyed. "How nice!!", he said. "Since that is the case, let us invite Wealth. Let him come and fill our home with wealth!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His wife disagreed. "My dear, why don't we invite Success?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their daughter-in-law was listening from the other corner of the house. She&lt;br /&gt;jumped in with her own suggestion: "Would it not be better to invite Love?&lt;br /&gt;Our home will then be filled with love!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Let us heed our daughter-in-law's advice," said the husband to his wife. "Go out and invite Love to be our guest."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman went out and asked the 3 old men, "Which one of you is Love? Please come in and be our guest."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love got up and started walking toward the house. The other two also got&lt;br /&gt;up and followed him. Surprised, the lady asked Wealth and Success: "I only invited Love, Why are you coming in?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old men replied together: "If you had invited Wealth or Success, the other two of us would've stayed out, but since you invited Love, wherever He goes, we go with him. Wherever there is Love, there is also Wealth and Success!!!!!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113539339655563089?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113539339655563089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113539339655563089' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113539339655563089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113539339655563089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/invite-love-home.html' title='Invite Love home!'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113533138186451767</id><published>2005-12-23T01:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-23T01:49:41.880-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Want to Moonwalk?</title><content type='html'>Try this...its too good to be missed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just follow the steps below.&lt;br /&gt;1. Open a fresh Excel sheet&lt;br /&gt;2. Press F5&lt;br /&gt;3. Type X97:L97&lt;br /&gt;4. Press ENTER&lt;br /&gt;5. Press TAB once&lt;br /&gt;6. Press Shift &amp; Ctrl together and click on CHART icon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Moonwalking!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113533138186451767?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113533138186451767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113533138186451767' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113533138186451767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113533138186451767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/want-to-moonwalk.html' title='Want to Moonwalk?'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113532892055583117</id><published>2005-12-23T00:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-23T01:08:40.566-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How good is your John Hancock?</title><content type='html'>While going through my daily subscription of word a day from &lt;a href="http://wordsmith.org"&gt;http://wordsmith.org&lt;/a&gt;, I got to know the word 'curlicue' or 'curlycue' (KUR-li-kyoo) which means a decorative curl or twist, in a signature, calligraphy, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To find some great curlicues, try the US Declaration of Independence &lt;a href="http://archives.gov/national-archives-experience/charters/declaration_zoom_2.html"&gt;http://archives.gov/national-archives-experience/charters/declaration_zoom_2.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most prominent signature is of John Hancock, the first signer of the document. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/John_Hancock.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/John_Hancock.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to a legend as per &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Hancock"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt;, he signed his name largely and clearly to be sure King George III could read it, causing his name to become an eponym for "signature". However, other examples show that Hancock always wrote his signature this way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113532892055583117?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113532892055583117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113532892055583117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113532892055583117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113532892055583117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/how-good-is-your-john-hancock.html' title='How good is your John Hancock?'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113531068345273469</id><published>2005-12-22T19:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-22T20:04:43.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unconventional Thinking</title><content type='html'>The following concerns a question in a physics degree exam at the University of Copenhagen:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Describe how to determine the height of a skyscraper with a barometer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One student replied: "You tie a long piece of string to the neck of the  barometer, then lower the barometer from the roof of the skyscraper to the ground. The length of the string plus the length of the barometer will equal the height of the building."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This highly original answer so incensed the examiner that the student was failed. The student appealed on the grounds that his answer was indisputably correct, and the university appointed an independent arbiter to decide the case. The arbiter judged that the answer was indeed correct, but did not display any noticeable knowledge of physics. To resolve the problem it was decided to call the student in and allow him six minutes in which to provide a verbal answer which showed at least a minimal familiarity with the basic principles of physics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For five minutes the student sat in silence, forehead creased in thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The arbiter reminded him that time was running out, to which the student replied that he had several extremely relevant answers, but couldn't make up his mind which to use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On being advised to hurry up the student replied as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Firstly, you could take the barometer up to the roof of the skyscraper, drop it over the edge, and measure the time it takes to reach the ground. The height of the building can then be worked out from the formula H = 0.5g x t squared. But bad luck on the barometer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Or if the sun is shining you could measure the height of the barometer, then set it on end and measure the length of its shadow. Then you measure the length of the skyscraper's shadow, and thereafter it is a simple matter of proportional arithmetic to work out the height of the skyscraper."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But if you wanted to be highly scientific about it, you could tie a short piece of string to the barometer and swing it like a pendulum, first at ground level and then on the roof of the skyscraper. The height is worked out by the difference in the gravitational restoring force T = 2 pi sqroot (l / g)."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Or if the skyscraper has an outside emergency staircase, it would be easier to walk up it and mark off the height of the skyscraper in barometer lengths, then add them up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you merely wanted to be boring and orthodox about it, of course, you could use the barometer to measure the air pressure on the roof of the skyscraper and on the ground, and convert the difference in millibars into feet to give the height of the building."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But since we are constantly being exhorted to exercise independence of mind and apply scientific methods, undoubtedly the best way would be to knock on the janitor's door and say to him 'If you would like a nice new barometer, I will give you this one if you tell me the height of this&lt;br /&gt;skyscraper'."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The student was Niels Bohr, the only person from Denmark to win the Nobel prize for Physics.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113531068345273469?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113531068345273469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113531068345273469' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113531068345273469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113531068345273469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/unconventional-thinking.html' title='Unconventional Thinking'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113525200048483273</id><published>2005-12-22T03:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-22T03:46:40.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Customer Service</title><content type='html'>For all of you out there that have dealt with an irate customer, and who hasn't?, this one is for you!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An award should go to this United Airline gate agent, in Denver,for being smart, funny, making her point, and being cool under fire, when confronted by a passenger, who probably deserved to fly as baggage .....or worse....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A crowded United flight was cancelled. A single agent was re booking a long line of inconvenienced travellers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly an angry passenger pushed his way to the gate desk. He slapped his ticket on the desk's counter top and said; "I HAVE TO be on this flight, and it HAS TO BE FIRST CLASS."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The agent replied; "I'm sorry sir, I'll be happy to help you, but I've got to help these folks in line first, and I'm sure that we'll be able to work something out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The passenger was unimpressed. He asked loudly, so that the passengers behind him could hear; "Do you have any idea who I am?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without hesitating the gate agent smiled and grabbed her public address microphone... "May I have your attention PLEASE?"; she began, her voice bellowing through out the terminal. "We have a passenger at the gate WHO DOES NOT KNOW WHO HE IS, so if anyone can help find his identity, PLEASE COME TO GATE 49 !!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the folk behind him laughing hysterically, the man glared at the United&lt;br /&gt;agent, gritted his teeth and swore; "F**** You!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without flinching she smiled and said; "I'm sorry sir, but you'll have to&lt;br /&gt;get in line for that too..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113525200048483273?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113525200048483273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113525200048483273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113525200048483273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113525200048483273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/customer-service.html' title='Customer Service'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113522521739439762</id><published>2005-12-21T20:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-21T20:20:17.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Ethical Questions</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Q1: If you knew a woman who was pregnant, who had 8 kids already, three who were deaf, two who were blind, one mentally retarded, and she had syphilis; would you recommend that she have an abortion?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read the next question before scrolling down to the answer of&lt;br /&gt;this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Q2: It is time to elect the world leader, and your vote counts.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the facts about the three leading candidates:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Candidate A&lt;br /&gt;Associates with crooked politicians, and consults with astrologists. He's had two mistresses. He also chain smokes and drinks 8 to 10 martinis a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Candidate B&lt;br /&gt;He was kicked out of office twice, sleeps until noon, smokes, used opium in college and drinks a quart of whisky every evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Candidate C&lt;br /&gt;He is a decorated war hero. He's a vegetarian, doesn't smoke, drinks an occasional beer and hasn't had any extramarital affairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which of these candidates would be your choice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Candidate A is Franklin D. Roosevelt&lt;br /&gt;Candidate B is Winston Churchill&lt;br /&gt;Candidate C is Adolf Hitler&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and by the way:&lt;br /&gt;Answer to the abortion question - if you said yes, you just killed Beethoven.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113522521739439762?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113522521739439762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113522521739439762' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113522521739439762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113522521739439762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/two-ethical-questions.html' title='Two Ethical Questions'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113522462136431526</id><published>2005-12-21T20:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-21T20:10:21.386-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Joke : Lottery Ticket</title><content type='html'>John, who was in financial difficulty, walked into a church and started to pray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Listen God," John said. "I know I haven't been perfect but I really need to win the lottery. I don't have a lot of money. Please help me out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He left the church, a week went by, and he hadn't won the lottery, so he walked into a synagogue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Come on, God," he said. "I really need this money. My mom needs surgery and I have bills to pay. Please let me win the lottery."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He left the synagogue, a week went by, and he didn't win the lottery. So, he went to a mosque and started to pray again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're starting to disappoint me, God," he said. "I've prayed and prayed. If you just let me win the lottery, I'll be a better person. I don't have to win the jackpot, just enough to get me out of debt. I'll give some to charity, even. Just let me win the lottery."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John thought this did it, so he got up and walked outside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The clouds opened up and a booming voice said, "John, buy a lottery ticket."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113522462136431526?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113522462136431526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113522462136431526' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113522462136431526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113522462136431526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/joke-lottery-ticket.html' title='Joke : Lottery Ticket'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113516477086977813</id><published>2005-12-21T03:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-21T04:02:38.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lost Child</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I enjoyed reading this story by Mulk Raj Anand many years ago, when I was in School.  I found this story here at the URL given below, which I have also reproduced it here.  The story is truly Indian in outlook, portrays a small Indian middle class family and aptly depicts a child's enthusiasm in all its glory together with its fine nuances.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ncert.nic.in/textbooks/IX/A_Mosaic_of_Life_IX/SR1.pdf"&gt;http://www.ncert.nic.in/textbooks/IX/A_Mosaic_of_Life_IX/SR1.pdf&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the festival of spring. From the wintry shades of narrow lanes and alleys emerged a gaily clad humanity. Some walked, some rode on horses, others sat, being carried in bamboo and bullock carts. One little boy ran between his father’s legs, brimming over with life and laughter. “Come, child, come,” called his parents, as he lagged behind, fascinated by the toys in the shops that lined the way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/Lost_Child.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/Lost_Child.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He hurried towards his parents, his feet obedient to their call, his eyes still lingering on the receding toys. As he came to where they had stopped to wait for him, he could not suppress the desire of his heart, even though he well knew the old, cold stare of refusal in their eyes. “I want that toy,” he pleaded. His father looked at him red-eyed, in his familiar tyrant’s way. His mother, melted by the free spirit of the day was tender and, giving him her finger to hold, said, “Look, child, what is before you!” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a flowering mustard-field, pale like melting gold as it swept across miles and miles of even land. A group of dragon-flies were bustling about on their gaudy purple wings, intercepting the flight of a lone black bee or butterfly in search of sweetness from the flowers. The child followed them in the air with his gaze, till one of them would still its wings and rest, and he would try to catch it. But it would go fluttering, flapping, up into the air, when he had almost caught it in his hands. Then his mother gave a cautionary call: “Come, child, come, come on to the footpath.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He ran towards his parents gaily and walked abreast of them for a while, being, however, soon left behind, attracted by the little insects and worms along the footpath that were teeming out from their hiding places to enjoy the sunshine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Come, child, come!” his parents called from the shade of a grove where they had seated themselves on the edge of a well. He ran towards them. A shower of young flowers fell upon the child as he entered the grove, and, forgetting his parents, he began to gather the raining petals in his hands. But lo! he heard the cooing of doves and ran towards his parents, shouting, “The dove! The dove!” The raining petals dropped from his forgotten hands. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Come, child, come!” they called to the child, who had now gone running in wild capers round the banyan tree, and gathering him up they took the narrow, winding footpath which led to the fair through the mustard fields. As they neared the village the child could see many other footpaths full of throngs, converging to the whirlpool of the fair, and felt at once repelled and fascinated by the confusion of the world he was entering. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sweetmeat seller hawked, “gulab-jaman, rasagulla, burfi, jalebi,” at the corner of the entrance and a crowd pressed round his counter at the foot of an architecture of many coloured sweets, decorated with leaves of silver and gold. The child stared open-eyed and his mouth watered for the burfi that was his favourite sweet. “I want that burfi,” he slowly murmured. But he half knew as he begged that his plea would not be heeded because his parents would say he was greedy. So without waiting for an answer he moved on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A flower-seller hawked, “A garland of gulmohur, a garland of gulmohur !” The child seemed irresistibly drawn. He went towards the basket where the flowers lay heaped and half murmured, “I want that garland.” But he well knew his parents would refuse to buy him those flowers because they would say that they were cheap. So, without waiting for an answer, he moved on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man stood holding a pole with yellow, red, green and purple balloons flying from it. The child was simply carried away by the rainbow glory of their silken colours and he was filled with an overwhelming desire to possess them all. But he well knew his parents would never buy him the balloons because they would say he was too old to play with such toys. So he walked on farther. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A snake-charmer stood playing a flute to a snake which coiled itself in a basket, its head raised in a graceful bend like the neck of a swan, while the music stole into its invisible ears like the gentle rippling of an invisible waterfall. The child went towards the snake-charmer. But, knowing his parents had forbidden him to hear such coarse music as the snake- charmer played, he proceeded farther. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a roundabout in full swing. Men, women and children, carried away in a whirling motion, shrieked and cried with dizzy laughter. The child watched them intently and then he made a bold request: “I want to go on the roundabout, please, Father, Mother.” There was no reply. He turned to look at his parents. They were not there, ahead of him. He turned to look on either side. They were not there. He looked behind. There was no sign of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A full, deep cry rose within his dry throat and with a sudden jerk of his body he ran from where he stood, crying in real fear, “Mother, Father.” Tears rolled down from his eyes, hot and fierce; his flushed face was convulsed with fear. Panic- stricken, he ran to one side first, then to the other, hither and thither in all directions, knowing not where to go. “Mother, Father,” he wailed. His yellow turban came untied and his clothes became muddy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having run to and fro in a rage of running for a while, he stood defeated, his cries suppressed into sobs. At little distances on the green grass he could see, through his filmy eyes, men and women talking. He tried to look intently among the patches of bright yellow clothes, but there was no sign of his father and mother among these people, who seemed to laugh and talk just for the sake of laughing and talking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He ran quickly again, this time to a shrine to which people seemed to be crowding. Every little inch of space here was congested with men, but he ran through people’s legs, his little sob lingering: “Mother, Father!” Near the entrance to the temple, however, the crowd became very thick: men jostled each other, heavy men, with flashing, murderous eyes and hefty shoulders. The poor child struggled to thrust a way between their feet but, knocked to and fro by their brutal movements, he might have been trampled underfoot, had he not shrieked at the highest pitch of his voice, “Father, Mother!” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man in the surging crowd heard his cry and, stooping with great difficulty, lifted him up in his arms. “How did you get here, child? Whose baby are you?” the man asked as he steered clear of the mass. The child wept more bitterly than ever now and only cried, “I want my mother, I want my father!” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man tried to soothe him by taking him to the roundabout. “Will you have a ride on the horse?” he gently asked as he approached the ring. The child’s throat tore into a thousand shrill sobs and he only shouted: “I want my mother, I want my father!” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man headed towards the place where the snake- charmer still played on the flute to the swaying cobra. “Listen to that nice music, child!” he pleaded. But the child shut his ears with his fingers and shouted his double-pitched strain: “I want my mother, I want my father!” The man took him near the balloons, thinking the bright colours of the balloons would distract the child’s attention and quieten him. “Would you like a rainbow-coloured balloon?” he persuasively asked. The child turned his eyes from the flying balloons and just sobbed, “I want my mother, I want my father!” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man, still trying to make the child happy, bore him to the gate where the flower-seller sat. “Look! Can you smell those nice flowers, child! Would you like a garland to put round your neck?” The child turned his nose away from the basket and reiterated his sob: “I want my mother, I want my father!” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking to humour his disconsolate charge by a gift of sweets, the man took him to the counter of the sweet shop. “What sweets would you like, child?” he asked. The child turned his face from the sweet shop and only sobbed, “I want my mother, I want my father!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113516477086977813?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113516477086977813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113516477086977813' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113516477086977813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113516477086977813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/lost-child.html' title='The Lost Child'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113514806075316691</id><published>2005-12-20T22:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-20T22:54:20.753-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Joke : Alzheimer's Vs AIDS</title><content type='html'>The phone rings. The lady of the house answers, "Yes? "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Ward, please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Speaking"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mrs. Ward, this is Doctor Jones at the Medical Testing Laboratory. When your Doctor sent your husband's samples to the lab, the samples from another Mr. Ward were sent as well and we are now uncertain which one is your husband's. Frankly, it is either bad or terrible."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you mean?" Mrs. Ward asks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, one Mr. Ward has tested positive for Alzheimer's disease (related to memory) and the other for AIDS. We can't tell which your husband's is"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's terrible! Can we do the test over?" questions Mrs. Ward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Normally, yes. But Medicare won't pay for these expensive tests more than once."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, what am I supposed to do now?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The people at Medicare recommend that you drop your husband off in the middle of town. If he finds his way home, don't sleep with him."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113514806075316691?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113514806075316691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113514806075316691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113514806075316691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113514806075316691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/joke-alzheimers-vs-aids.html' title='Joke : Alzheimer&apos;s Vs AIDS'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113514792097749073</id><published>2005-12-20T22:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-20T22:52:00.990-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;A nice article about Love by Swami Vivekananda&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once had a friend who grew to be very close to me. Once when we were sitting at the edge of a swimming pool, she filled the palm of her hand with some water and held it before me, and said this: "You see this water carefully contained on my hand? It symbolizes Love."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was how I saw it: As long as you keep your hand caringly open and allow it to remain there, it will always be there. However, if you attempt to close your fingers round it and try to possess it, it will spill through the first cracks it finds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the greatest mistake that people do when they meet love...they try to possess it, they  demand, they expect... and just like the water spilling out of your hand, love will retrieve from you . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For love is meant to be free, you cannot change its nature. If there are people you love, allow them to be free beings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give and don't expect.&lt;br /&gt;Advise, but don't order.&lt;br /&gt;Ask, but never demand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It might sound simple, but it is a lesson that may take a lifetime to truly practice. It is the secret to true love. To truly practice it, you must sincerely feel no expectations from those who you love, and yet an unconditional caring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passing thought... Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take; but by the moments that take our breath away.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is beautiful!!!  Live it !!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113514792097749073?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113514792097749073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113514792097749073' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113514792097749073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113514792097749073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/love.html' title='Love'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113504732155154084</id><published>2005-12-19T18:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-19T18:55:21.553-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Joke : The Drowning Woman</title><content type='html'>Standing at the edge of the lake, a man saw a woman flailing about in the deep water. Unable to swim, the man started to scream for help. A trout fisherman ran up. The man said, "My wife is drowning and I can't swim. Please save her. I'll give you a hundred dollars."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fisherman dove into the water. In ten powerful strokes, he reached the woman, put his arm around her, and swam back to shore. Depositing her at the feet of the man, the fisherman said, "Okay, where's my hundred?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man said, "Look, when I saw her going down for the third time, I thought it was my wife. But this is my mother-in-law."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fisherman reached into his pocket and said, "Just my luck. How much do I owe you?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113504732155154084?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113504732155154084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113504732155154084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113504732155154084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113504732155154084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/joke-drowning-woman.html' title='Joke : The Drowning Woman'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113504699304394463</id><published>2005-12-19T18:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-19T18:49:53.060-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Joke : The Aussie and the Texan</title><content type='html'>A Texan farmer goes to Australia for a vacation. There he meets an Aussie farmer and gets to talking. The Aussie shows off his big wheat field and the Texan says, "Oh! We have wheat fields that are at least twice as large."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they walk around the ranch a little, and the Aussie shows off his herd of cattle. The Texan immediately says, " We have longhorns that are at least twice as large as your cows."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conversation has, meanwhile, almost died when the Texan sees a herd of kangaroos hopping through the field. He asks,"And what are those"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Aussie replies with an incredulous look, "Don't you have any grasshoppers in&lt;br /&gt;Texas?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113504699304394463?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113504699304394463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113504699304394463' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113504699304394463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113504699304394463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/joke-aussie-and-texan.html' title='Joke : The Aussie and the Texan'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113496114445334952</id><published>2005-12-18T18:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-18T18:59:04.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Joke : Husband Shopping</title><content type='html'>There was this "Husband Shopping Center" where a woman could go to choose from among many men, her husband. It was laid out in five floors, with the men increasing in +ve attributes as you ascended up the floors. The only rule was, once you opened the&lt;br /&gt;door to any floor you must choose a man from that floor, and if you went up a floor, you couldn't go back down except to leave the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, a couple of girls go to the place to find men ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First floor, the door had a sign saying "These men have jobs and love kids."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The women read the sign and say "Well that's better than not having jobs, or not loving kids, but I wonder what's further up?". So up they go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second floor says "These men have high paying jobs, love kids, and are extremely good looking" Hmmm, say the girls. But, I wonder what's further up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third floor: "These men have high paying jobs, are extremely good looking, love kids and help with the housework."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow! say the women. Very tempting !!! But, there's more further up! And up they&lt;br /&gt;go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fourth floor: "These men have high paying jobs, love kids, are extremely good&lt;br /&gt;looking, help with the housework, and have a strong romantic streak."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, mercy me. But just think! What must be awaiting us further on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So up to the fifth floor they go. The sign on that door said "This floor is just&lt;br /&gt;to prove that women are impossible to please."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113496114445334952?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113496114445334952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113496114445334952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113496114445334952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113496114445334952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/joke-husband-shopping.html' title='Joke : Husband Shopping'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113481640692841743</id><published>2005-12-17T02:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-17T02:46:46.940-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quarter Life Crisis</title><content type='html'>For those in their twenty-something's , may be even early thirties...This puts it all into words perfectly. They call it the "Quarter-life Crisis."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there are a lot of things about yourself that you didn't know and may or may not like. You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those friends that you thought you were so close to aren't exactly the greatest people you have ever met and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones. What you do not realize is that they are realizing that too and are not really cold or catty or mean or insincere, but that they are as confused as you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You look at your job. It is not even close to what you thought you would be doing or maybe you are looking for one and realizing that you are going to have to start at the bottom and are scared. You miss the comforts of college, of groups, of socializing with the same people on a constant basis. But then you realize that maybe they weren't so great after all.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;You are beginning to understand yourself and what you want and do not want. Your opinions have gotten stronger. You see what others are doing and find yourself judging a bit more than usual because suddenly you realize that you have certain boundaries in your life and add things to your list of what is acceptable and what is not. You are insecure and then secure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly change is the enemy and you try and cling on to the past with dear life but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away and there is nothing to do but stay where you are or move forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such damage to you or you lay in bed and wonder why you can't meet anyone decent enough to get to know better.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;You love someone but maybe love someone else too and cannot figure out why you are doing this because you are not a bad person. One night stands and random hook ups start to look cheap and getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic. You go through the same emotions and questions over and over and talk with your friends about the same topics because you cannot seem to make a decision. You worry about loans and money and the future and making a life for yourself and while winning the race would be great, right now you'd just like to be a contender!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;What you may not realize is that everyone reading this relates to it. We are in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as we can to figure this whole thing out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113481640692841743?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113481640692841743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113481640692841743' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113481640692841743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113481640692841743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/quarter-life-crisis.html' title='Quarter Life Crisis'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113479371873851941</id><published>2005-12-16T19:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-16T20:28:38.753-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Surviving a Heart Attack</title><content type='html'>Let's say it's 6.15 pm and you're driving home (alone of course) after an unusually hard day on the job.You're really tired, and frustrated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly you start experiencing severe pain in your chest that starts to radiate out into your arm and up into your jaw.   You are only five miles from the hospital nearest your home. Unfortunately you don't know if you'll be able to make it that far. You have been trained in CPR, but the guy that taught the course did not tell you how to perform it on yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since many people are alone when they suffer a heart attack, without help, the person whose heart is beating improperly and who begins to feel faint, has only about 10 seconds left before losing conscious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, these victims can help themselves by coughing repeatedly and very vigorously. A deep breath should be taken before each cough, the cough must be deep and prolonged, as when producing sputum from deep inside the chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A breath and a cough must be repeated about every two seconds without let-up until help arrives, or until the heart is felt to be beating normally again. Deep breaths get oxygen into the lungs and coughing movements squeeze the heart and keep the blood circulating. The squeezing pressure on the heart also helps it regain normal rhythm. In this way, heart attack victims can get to a hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't ever think that you are not prone to heart attack if your age is less than 25 or 30. Nowadays due to the change in the life style, heart attack is found among people of all age groups.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113479371873851941?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113479371873851941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113479371873851941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113479371873851941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113479371873851941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/surviving-heart-attack.html' title='Surviving a Heart Attack'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113479041297214738</id><published>2005-12-16T19:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-16T19:33:32.973-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If you try...you can</title><content type='html'>For those of you who can read Hindi, enjoy this poem by Late.Harivanshrai Bachan, noted Poet and father of legendary Bollywood Actor Amitabh Bachan.  A retired English Professor, he is known for his literary works in Hindi.  This poem glorifies hard work and perseverance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/harivansh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/harivansh.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113479041297214738?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113479041297214738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113479041297214738' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113479041297214738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113479041297214738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/if-you-tryyou-can.html' title='If you try...you can'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113478977256376199</id><published>2005-12-16T19:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-16T19:22:52.563-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Joke : Hard Luck!</title><content type='html'>A suburban guy left for work on Sept. 11 at about 6:00AM to go to his office in the WTC... &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;When he got to Manhattan he went to his lover's apartment in the Village, turned his cell phone off, and thought of spending some good time with her. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;At about 10:00AM, while still at her place, he turned his cell phone on, and a second later it rang. He answered, and it was his wife who screamed at him, "Where are you? I've been trying to call you for an hour. I've been worried sick about you!!!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he answered, "Where do you think I am? I'm in my office!!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113478977256376199?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113478977256376199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113478977256376199' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113478977256376199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113478977256376199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/joke-hard-luck.html' title='Joke : Hard Luck!'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113478966396698691</id><published>2005-12-16T19:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-16T19:21:03.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stephen Covey's 4Ls</title><content type='html'>Author Stephen Covey says that people all share four basic needs:the need to live, to love, to learn and to leave a legacy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We need to live.&lt;/strong&gt; Not just to breathe but to live life fully. Dr. Philip Humbert asks, "What remarkable, extraordinary and amazing things will you do with this wild and wonderful miracle, your one and only life?"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We need to love.&lt;/strong&gt; We also need to be loved. As anthropologist Margaret Mead puts it, "One of the oldest human needs is having someone wonder where you are when you don't come home at night."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We need to learn.&lt;/strong&gt; And not only for a few years when we are young. We must be life-long learners who never stop growing, never cease to improve. For when we no longer grow, we stagnate. And when we stagnate, we die.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Finally, &lt;strong&gt;we need to leave a legacy&lt;/strong&gt;. It is a basic desire to want our lives to count for something. In the words of Ralph Waldo Emerson: "To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a little bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are four needs that must never be neglected. Live fully, love completely, learn constantly and leave something worthwhile behind. It is the path to success. And to joy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113478966396698691?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113478966396698691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113478966396698691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113478966396698691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113478966396698691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/stephen-coveys-4ls.html' title='Stephen Covey&apos;s 4Ls'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113478934234472421</id><published>2005-12-16T19:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-16T19:15:42.356-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cows and Six Sigma</title><content type='html'>A funny read which I received from a GE employee...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Various Organizational philosophies explained in terms of 2 cows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Socialism:&lt;/strong&gt; You have 2 cows. The government takes one and gives it to your neighbour&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Communism:&lt;/strong&gt; You have 2 cows.The governmnet takes them both and provides you with milk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fascism:&lt;/strong&gt; You have 2 cows.The government takes them both and sell you the milk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nazism:&lt;/strong&gt; You have 2 cows.The government takes them and shoots you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bureaucracy:&lt;/strong&gt; You have 2 cows.The government takes them both, shoots one, milks the other, pays you for the milk,and then pours it down the drain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Capitalism:&lt;/strong&gt; You have 2 cows.You sell one and buy a bull.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;GE:&lt;/strong&gt; You have 2 cows.You lay one off, force the other produce the milk of 4 cows, then act surprised when it drops dead or You have 2 cows. They take them both, expect you to MAKE your own cow, require the milk production of 8 cows, and impose a deadline prior to the cow being born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;GE-6 SIGMA:&lt;/strong&gt; You have two cows. You lay one off and make a black belt of the other. Then spend six months mapping the process to understand why there has been a huge decrease in milk production.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113478934234472421?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113478934234472421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113478934234472421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113478934234472421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113478934234472421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/cows-and-six-sigma.html' title='Cows and Six Sigma'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113470270934912764</id><published>2005-12-15T18:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-15T19:11:49.363-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Painting of Last Supper</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/LastSupper.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/LastSupper.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story of the painting of The Last Supper is extremely interesting and instructive, and two incidents connected with it afford a most convincing lesson on the effects of right thinking or wrong thinking in the life of a boy or girl, or of a man or woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leonardo Da Vinci, the noted Italian artist painted the Last Supper. It took seven years for him to complete it. The figures representing the twelve Apostles and Christ himself were painted from living persons. The life-model for the painting of the figure of Jesus was chosen first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it was decided that Da Vinci would paint this great picture, hundreds and hundreds of young men were carefully viewed in an endeavor to find a face and personality exhibiting innocence and beauty, free from the scars and signs of dissipation caused by sin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, after weeks of laborious search, a young man nineteen years of age was selected as a model for the portrayal of Christ. For six months Da Vinci worked on the production of this leading character of his famous painting. During the next six years Da Vinci continued his labors on this sublime work of art. One by one fitting persons were chosen to represent each of the eleven Apostles -- with space being left for the painting of the figure representing Judas Iscariot as the final task of this masterpiece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the Apostle, you remember, who betrayed his Lord for thirty pieces of silver. For weeks Da Vinci searched for a man with a hard, callous face, with a countenance marked by scars of avarice, deceit, hypocrisy, and crime. A face that would delineate a character who would betray his best friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After many discouraging experiences in searching for the type of person required to represent Judas, word came to Da Vinci that a man whose appearance fully met his requirements had been found in a dungeon in Rome, sentenced to die for a life of crime and murder. Da Vinci made the trip to Rome at once, and this man was brought out from his imprisonment in the dungeon and led out into the light of the sun. There Da Vinci saw before him a dark, swarthy man his long shaggy and unkempt hair sprawled over his face, which betrayed a character of viciousness and complete ruin. At last the famous painter had found the person he wanted to represent the character of Judas in his painting. By special permission from the king, this prisoner was carried to Milan where the picture was being painted. For months he sat before Da Vinci at appointed hours each day as the gifted artist diligently continued his task of transmitting, to his painting, this base character representing the traitor and betrayer of our Savior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he finished his last stroke, he turned to the guards and said, "I have finished. You may take the prisoner away". As the guards were leading their prisoner away, he suddenly broke loose from their control and rushed up to Da Vinci, crying as he did so, "Da Vinci, look at me. Do you not know who I am?" Da Vinci, with the trained eyes of a great character student, carefully scrutinized the man upon whose face he had constantly gazed for six months and replied, "No, I have never seen you in my life until you were brought before me out of the dungeon in Rome."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, lifting his eyes toward heaven, the prisoner said, "Oh God, have I fallen so low?" Then turning his face to the painter he cried, "Leonardo Da Vinci, look at me again for I am the same man you painted just seven years ago as the figure of Christ."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113470270934912764?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113470270934912764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113470270934912764' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113470270934912764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113470270934912764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/painting-of-last-supper.html' title='Painting of Last Supper'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113461665857923463</id><published>2005-12-14T19:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-14T19:23:07.113-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Joke: The Pope and the Cop</title><content type='html'>One day the Pope is coming to America in his Limo and he said to the driver, 'Why don't you let me drive for once.' The driver thinks to him self, 'Well I can't say no to him, he's the Pope.' So the driver pulls over and they change places. The Pope was having fun.  After a while the driver taps on the window and tells the Pope, 'slow down a bit, you might get pulled over.'The Pope says, 'ahhh, don't worry about it, I'm the Pope.' So he rolls up the window and continues to drive very fast. After a few moments he gets pulled over. The cop walks to the car and the Pope rolls down the tinted window. The cop sees the Pope and says, 'oh, I, ehhh, sorry, can you hold on a minute.' The Pope says, 'sure'.The cop walks back to his car and radios back to the station. He says, 'guys I just pulled over some one really important.'&lt;br /&gt;They ask who, 'The President?.' &lt;br /&gt;'No more important.'&lt;br /&gt;'The president of another country.'&lt;br /&gt;'No more important.'&lt;br /&gt;'An ambassador.'&lt;br /&gt;'No even more important.'&lt;br /&gt;'Well who is it.'&lt;br /&gt;'I don't know, but the Pope is the chauffeur.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113461665857923463?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113461665857923463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113461665857923463' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113461665857923463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113461665857923463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/joke-pope-and-cop.html' title='Joke: The Pope and the Cop'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113461566177442547</id><published>2005-12-14T18:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-14T19:01:01.786-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You can make it happen</title><content type='html'>History abounds with tales of experts who were convinced that the ideas,plans and projects of others could never be achieved. However,accomplishment came to those who said, "I can make it happen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Italian sculptor Agostino d'Antonio worked diligently on a large piece of marble. Unable to produce his desired masterpiece, he lamented, "I can do nothing with it." Other sculptors also worked this difficult piece of marble, but to no avail. Michelangelo discovered the stone and visualized the possibilities in it. His "I-can-make-it-happen" attitude resulted in one of the world's masterpieces - David.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The experts of Spain concluded that Columbus's plans to discover a new and shorter route to the West Indies was virtually impossible. Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand ignored the report of the experts. "I can make it happen," Columbus persisted. And he did. Everyone knew the world was flat, but not Columbus. The Nina, the Pinta, the Santa Maria, along with Columbus and his small band of followers, sailed to "impossible" new lands and thriving resources.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even the great Thomas Alva Edison discouraged his friend, Henry Ford, from pursuing his fledgling idea of a motorcar. Convinced of the worthlessness of the idea, Edison invited Ford to come and work for him. Ford remained committed and tirelessly pursued his dream. Although his first attempt resulted in a vehicle without reverse gear, Henry Ford knew he could make it happen. And, of course, he did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Forget it," the experts advised Madame Curie. They agreed radium was a scientifically impossible idea. However, Marie Curie insisted, "I can make it happen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's not forget our friends Orville and Wilbur Wright. Journalists,friends, armed forces specialists, and even their father laughed at the idea of an airplane. "What a silly and insane way to spend money. Leave flying to the birds," they jeered. "Sorry," the Wright brothers responded. "We have a dream, and we can make it happen." As a result, a place called Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, became the setting for the launching of their "ridiculous" idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, as you read these accounts under the magnificent lighting of your environment, consider the plight of Benjamin Franklin. He was admonished to stop the foolish experimenting with lighting. What an absurdity and waste of time! Why, nothing could outdo the fabulous oil lamp. Thank goodness Franklin knew he could make it happen. You too can make it happen!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113461566177442547?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113461566177442547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113461566177442547' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113461566177442547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113461566177442547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/you-can-make-it-happen.html' title='You can make it happen'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113454175671943180</id><published>2005-12-13T22:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-13T22:38:15.520-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Insignificant Man</title><content type='html'>Whenever I see programmes in Channels like NatGeo or Discovery related to natural calamities, there is a pretty common sentence which is said "It just goes to prove that nobody is bigger than nature".  The purport of this statement did not strike me, until I saw these images.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Compare the size of the earth with other planets&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/compare1.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/compare1.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Now compare it with Uranus &amp; Neptune&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/compare2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/compare2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earth is the first planet on the first row of the picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Now Earth against Sun&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/compare3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/compare3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earth is the fifth planet on the first row of the picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Against Sun, Earth is like a dot.  Think !! Where do you find yourself now??  Now imagine the creator of this universe???  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realised man is an insignificant entity in the whole scheme of nature.  Yet we do so many things that does not befit our insignificant stature...just give it a thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113454175671943180?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113454175671943180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113454175671943180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113454175671943180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113454175671943180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/insignificant-man.html' title='The Insignificant Man'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113453092135168712</id><published>2005-12-13T18:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-13T19:28:41.366-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Eve's Christmas</title><content type='html'>Choices...a right choice at the wrong moment or a wrong choice at the right moment, both of them are'nt any good.  But having made a choice there is no going back in real life and I think we have to learn to accept the consequence of the choice we made.  But just think if you have a chance to make the same choice again in your life and at the same point of time in which you made the choice earlier, how and what it would be?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the theme of the movie 'Eve's Christmas' which I watched on Monday.  It's about a middle aged executive named Eve Simon, who has everything in life - job, status, money but she has nobody to share her feelings with.  Coupled with this she has been having an affair with her exploitative Boss.  Eve feels miserable in life and she attributes this to a choice she made few years ago.  She had her Christmas-day wedding cancelled, since her ambition made her take up a job in New Jersey as against being a home maker in a small town.  She happens to meet a guardian angel who takes her back in time...exactly a week before the day of her marriage.  Now that she knows what is in store for her in future, what choices she makes forms the rest of the story.  Do try to see it, if you get a chance.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is an interesting dialogue between Eve and her mother, which I liked a lot.  I may not be quoting verbatim but it goes something like this - "Honey! Before my marriage I was running a store.  I had to give it up after my marriage.  I don't have the store now...but I have your father, you and your brother.  I have something now, which probably I wouldn't be having if I had made a different choice.  Not for a moment I have regretted the choices I have made in life".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113453092135168712?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113453092135168712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113453092135168712' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113453092135168712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113453092135168712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/eves-christmas.html' title='Eve&apos;s Christmas'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113452815808836782</id><published>2005-12-13T18:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-13T18:50:23.863-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How they catch Monkeys</title><content type='html'>Monkey-hunters  use  a  box  with an opening at the top, big enough for the monkey  to slide its hand in. Inside the box are nuts. The monkey grabs the nuts  and  now its hand becomes a fist. The monkey tries to get its hand out but  the  opening is big enough for the hand to slide in, but too small for the fist to come out. Now the monkey has a choice, either to let go off the nuts and be free forever or hang on to the nuts and get caught. Guess what it picks every time? You guessed it. He hangs on to the nuts and get caught.  We  are no different from monkeys. We all hang on to some nuts that keep us from  going  forward in life. We keep rationalising by saying, "I cannot do this  because" and whatever comes after "because" are the nuts that we are hanging on to which are holding us back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Successful people don't rationalise. Two things determine if a person will be a success: reasons and results. Reasons don't count while results do. A good advice for failure is: Don't think, don't ask and don't listen. Just rationalise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113452815808836782?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113452815808836782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113452815808836782' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113452815808836782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113452815808836782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/how-they-catch-monkeys.html' title='How they catch Monkeys'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113445546179087863</id><published>2005-12-12T22:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-12T22:31:01.803-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Talk less...on Mobiles</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/talkless.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/talkless.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scary...but guess its safe to be careful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113445546179087863?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113445546179087863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113445546179087863' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113445546179087863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113445546179087863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/talk-lesson-mobiles.html' title='Talk less...on Mobiles'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113419054447351251</id><published>2005-12-09T20:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-09T20:55:44.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Burning Desire</title><content type='html'>A  young  man asked Socrates the secret to success. Socrates told the young man  to  meet him near the river the next morning. They met. Socrates asked the  young  man to walk with him toward the river. When the water got up to their neck, Socrates took the young man by surprise and ducked him into the water.  The  boy  struggled to get out but Socrates was strong and kept him there  until  the boy started turning blue. Socrates pulled his head out of the water and the first thing the young man did was to gasp and take a deep breath  of  air.  Socrates asked, "What did you want the most when you were there". The  boy  replied,  "Air". Socrates  said, "That is the secret to success.  When  you  want  success as badly as you wanted the air, then you will get it." There is no other secret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A burning desire is the starting point of all accomplishment. Just like a small fire cannot give much heat, a weak desire cannot produce great result.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113419054447351251?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113419054447351251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113419054447351251' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113419054447351251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113419054447351251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/burning-desire.html' title='A Burning Desire'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113412082590793864</id><published>2005-12-09T01:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-09T01:33:45.920-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Looking for Gold</title><content type='html'>As a young Scots boy, Andrew Carnegie came to America and started doing odd jobs.  He  ended up as one of the largest steel manufacturers in the United States.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At  one time he had 43 millionaires working for him. Several decades ago, a million dollars used to be a lot of money; even today it is a lot of money. Someone  asked  Mr.Carnegie  how  he  dealt  with people? Andrew Carnegie replied, "Dealing with people is like digging gold: When you go digging for an  ounce  of  gold, you have to move tons of dirt to get an ounce of gold. But  when you go digging, you don't go looking for dirt, you go looking for the gold."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What  is  your focus? Become a digger for gold. If you are looking &lt;br /&gt;for what is  wrong  with  people  or  with  things, you will find &lt;br /&gt;many. What are you looking for? Andrew Carnegie's reply has a very &lt;br /&gt;important message. There is something  positive  in every person &lt;br /&gt;and every situation. Sometimes we have to  dig  deep  to  look  for &lt;br /&gt;the  positive because it may not be apparent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides,  we are so used to looking for what is wrong with other &lt;br /&gt;people and situations,  we  forget to see what is right. Someone &lt;br /&gt;once said that even a stopped clock is right twice a day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113412082590793864?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113412082590793864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113412082590793864' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113412082590793864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113412082590793864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/looking-for-gold.html' title='Looking for Gold'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113405295508985559</id><published>2005-12-08T05:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-08T06:47:28.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One Without Sorrow</title><content type='html'>Influenced by a post in &lt;a href="http://tonyontherun.blogspot.com/2005/12/another-suicide-bombing.html#links"&gt;Tony's&lt;/a&gt; blog, I googled my way to find a link about King Ashoka, the Great(273 - 232 BC), whose name in Sanskrit translates to "The One Without Sorrow".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ashoka"&gt;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ashoka&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/ashoka2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/ashoka2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the history of the world there have been thousands of kings and emperors who called themselves 'Their Highnesses', 'Their Majesties' and 'Their Exalted Majesties' and so on. They shone for a brief moment, and as quickly disappeared. But Ashoka shines and shines brightly like a bright star, even unto this day. So wrote H.G. Wells, British historian and noble seeker of the truth about mankind's tumultuous past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashoka was once a bloodthirsty tyrrant, who wanted to annex all the provinces in ancient India, under his mighty empire which was even larger than the present day Republic of India.  But the Kalinga War, changed the course of his life and his thoughts.  The pretext for the start of the Kalinga War (265 BC or 263 BC) is uncertain. One of his soldiers might have fled to Kalinga and found official refuge there. This enraged Ashoka immensely. He was advised by his ministers to attack Kalinga for this act of treachery. Ashoka then asked Kalinga's royalty to submit before his supremacy. When they defied this diktat, Ashoka sent one of his generals to Kalinga to make them submit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The general and his forces were, however, completely routed through the skilled tactics of Kalinga's commander-in-chief. Ashoka, baffled at this defeat, attacked with the greatest invasion ever recorded in Indian history until then. Kalinga put up a stiff resistance, but they were no match for Ashoka's brutal strength. The whole of Kalinga was plundered and destroyed: Ashoka's later edicts say that about 100,000 people were killed on the Kalinga side and 10,000 from Ashoka's army; thousands of men and women were deported.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the legend goes, one day after the war was over, Ashoka ventured out to roam the city and all he could see were burnt houses and scattered corpses. This sight made him sick and he cried the famous quotation, "What have I done?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Iam reminded of these famous sayings:&lt;br /&gt;"My God, what have we done?" - Robert Lewis, the co-pilot of Enola Gay, the B-29 that dropped the first atomic bomb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J. Robert Oppenheimer, the Scientist involved in the Atomic Bomb project code named Manhattan Project, though ecstatic about the success of the project, quoted a remembered fragment from the Bhagavad Gita. "I am become Death," he said, "the destroyer of worlds." Ken Bainbridge, the test director, told Oppenheimer, "Now we're all sons of bitches." )&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The brutality of the conquest led him to adopt Buddhism and he used his position to propagate the relatively new philosophy to new heights, as far as ancient Rome and Egypt.  During the remaining portion of Ashoka's reign, he pursued an official policy of nonviolence or &lt;em&gt;ahimsa&lt;/em&gt; and adopted the dharma, which consists of basic virtuous teachings that can be practiced by all men regardless of social origins. "Dharma" is derived from the Sanskrit word for "duty".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashoka saw the dharma as a righteous path showing the utmost respect for all living things. The dharma would bring harmony and unity to India in the form of much needed compassion. Serving as a guiding light, a voice of conscious that is the dharma can lead one to be a respectful and highly responsible human being. Edward D'cruz interprets the Ashokan dharma as a "religion to be used as a symbol of a new imperial unity and a cementing force to weld the diverse and heterogeneous elements of the empire". Ashoka's intent was to instigate "a practice of social behavior so broad and benevolent in its scope, that no person, no matter what his religion, could reasonably object to it".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One need not become an Ashoka to stop bloodshed or go all out to found a new religion.  I guess it would be enough, before training a Gun on a fellow human being, if one gives a thought that the person he is going to kill is somebody's son, somebody's brother or somebody's husband and that he has a family to return to like himself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iam ending this longish post with few lines, from one of the beautiful songs by Michael Jackson,Heal The World.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"There's a place in your heart &lt;br /&gt;And I know that it is love &lt;br /&gt;And this place could be much &lt;br /&gt;Brighter than tomorrow. &lt;br /&gt;And if you really try &lt;br /&gt;You'll find there's no need to cry &lt;br /&gt;In this place you'll feel &lt;br /&gt;There's no hurt or sorrow. &lt;br /&gt;There are ways to get there &lt;br /&gt;If you care enough for the living &lt;br /&gt;Make a little space, make a better place."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113405295508985559?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113405295508985559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113405295508985559' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113405295508985559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113405295508985559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/one-without-sorrow.html' title='The One Without Sorrow'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113404837240880089</id><published>2005-12-08T05:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-08T05:26:12.410-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How bad is your temper?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://spaces.msn.com/members/thirumurugan/Blog/cns!1p14Qb66n3O4heKkxp5Sz-sw!14665.entry"&gt;Well...Check it out here...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/c1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/c1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113404837240880089?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113404837240880089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113404837240880089' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113404837240880089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113404837240880089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/how-bad-is-your-temper.html' title='How bad is your temper?'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113404749087372147</id><published>2005-12-08T04:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-08T05:11:30.886-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Road Not Taken</title><content type='html'>Often times, we wonder about the path that we have taken in our life.  I have done it so many times over and Iam sure, each one of us must have had this feeling at some point of life, that if I had done this thing at that point of time, my life would have been like this.  We do wonder about the road not taken...I enjoyed this poem when I read this at high school, even with my little knowledge about life at that point of time.  I found this poem by Robert Frost at &lt;a href="http://thirumurugan.blogspot.com/2005/12/my-favourite-poem.html"&gt;Thiru's&lt;/a&gt; blog today and thought of sharing the same here.  I guess life and the experience it offers at various points, makes one wise and his thoughts mellow.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/roadnottakenfinal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/roadnottakenfinal.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113404749087372147?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113404749087372147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113404749087372147' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113404749087372147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113404749087372147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/road-not-taken.html' title='The Road Not Taken'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113392641437208156</id><published>2005-12-06T19:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-06T19:33:34.386-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Anecdotes</title><content type='html'>Should women have children after 35?     &lt;br /&gt;No, 35 children are enough!    &lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------- &lt;br /&gt;Living on Earth may be expensive, but it includes an annual free trip round the Sun..   &lt;br /&gt; -------------------------------------------------------    &lt;br /&gt;Your future depends on your dreams     &lt;br /&gt;So go to sleep !   &lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Work fascinates me    &lt;br /&gt;I can look at it for hours !   &lt;br /&gt; -------------------------------------------------------     &lt;br /&gt;God made relatives;     &lt;br /&gt;Thank God we can choose our friends        &lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------     &lt;br /&gt;A good discussion is like a miniskirt;    &lt;br /&gt;Short enough to pertain interest and long enough to cover the subject   &lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------- &lt;br /&gt;A drunk was hauled into court. Mister, the judge began, you've been brought here for drinking.. &lt;br /&gt;Great, the drunk exclaimed. When do we get started?   &lt;br /&gt; -------------------------------------------------------     &lt;br /&gt;Can you do anything that other people can't?    &lt;br /&gt;Sure, I can read my handwriting.   &lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------     &lt;br /&gt;Whom are you working for?     &lt;br /&gt;Same people. My wife and four kids..    &lt;br /&gt; ----------------------------------------------------     &lt;br /&gt;I heard you have a cat that can say her own name..     &lt;br /&gt;Yes. Meow..    &lt;br /&gt; --------------------------------------------------     &lt;br /&gt;Divorce has become so common that my wife and I are staying married just to be different..     &lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------    &lt;br /&gt;When a wife was asked: What book do you like the best?     &lt;br /&gt;She answers: My husband's cheque book..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113392641437208156?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113392641437208156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113392641437208156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113392641437208156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113392641437208156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/anecdotes.html' title='Anecdotes'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113384602968034041</id><published>2005-12-05T21:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-05T21:30:37.996-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Joke : The Computer Test</title><content type='html'>Jesus and Satan were having an ongoing argument about who managed to get the most out of their computer. This had been going on for days and God was tired of hearing all of the bickering. God said, "Cool it. I am going to set up a test that will run two hours and I will judge who does the better job."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So down they sat at the keyboards and typed away. They moused. They did spreadsheets. They wrote reports. They sent faxes. They sent e-mails. They sent out e-mail with attachments. They downloaded. They did some genealogy reports. They made cards. They did every known job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But just a few minutes before the two hours were up, lightening flashed across the sky. The thunder rolled and the rains came down hard, and of course the electricity went off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satan fumed and fussed and he ranted and raved, all to no avail. The electricity stayed off. After a bit, the rains stopped and the electricity came back on. Satan screamed, "I lost it all when the power went off. What am I going to do? What happened to Jesus' work?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus sat and smiled. Again Satan asked about the work that Jesus had done. As Jesus turned his computer back on, the screen glowed and when he pushed "print" it was all there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How did he do it?" Satan asked. God smiled and said......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(ready for this?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;" Jesus saves".&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113384602968034041?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113384602968034041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113384602968034041' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113384602968034041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113384602968034041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/joke-computer-test.html' title='Joke : The Computer Test'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113384489472661157</id><published>2005-12-05T20:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-05T20:54:54.740-08:00</updated><title type='text'>GRE Students</title><content type='html'>An exaggerated forward taking a light-hearted dig at GRE students.  I got to know certain new words, which I hadn't known before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A GRE STUDENT: All articles that coruscate with resplendence are not&lt;br /&gt;truly auriferous.&lt;br /&gt;A NORMAL PERSON : All that glitters is not gold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A GRE STUDENT  : Sorting on the part of  must be interdicted.&lt;br /&gt;A NORMAL PERSON  : Beggars are not choosers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A GRE STUDENT : Male cadavers are incapable of rendering any testimony.&lt;br /&gt;A NORMAL PERSON  : Dead men tell no tales&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A GRE STUDENT : Neophite's serendipity.&lt;br /&gt;A NORMAL PERSON  : Beginner's luck&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A GRE STUDENT : A revolving lithic conglomerate  accumulates no congeries of small, green, biophytic  plant.&lt;br /&gt;A NORMAL PERSON  : A rolling stone gathers no moss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A GRE STUDENT: Members of an avian species of identical plumage tend to congregate.&lt;br /&gt;A NORMAL PERSON  : Birds of the same feather flock together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A GRE STUDENT : Pulchritude possesses solely cutaneous profundity.&lt;br /&gt;A NORMAL PERSON  : Beauty is only skin deep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A GRE STUDENT : Freedom from incrustations of grime is contiguous to rectitude.&lt;br /&gt;A NORMAL PERSON  : Cleanliness is godliness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A GRE STUDENT : It is fruitless to become lachrymose of recipitately departed lactile fluid.&lt;br /&gt;A NORMAL PERSON  : There's no use crying over spilt milk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A GRE STUDENT : Eschew the implement of correction and vitiate the scion.&lt;br /&gt;A NORMAL PERSON  : Spare the rod and spoil  the child&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A GRE STUDENT : The stylus is more potent than the rapier.&lt;br /&gt;A NORMAL PERSON  : The pen is mightier than the sword&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A GRE STUDENT : It is fruitless to attempt to indoctrinate a superannuated canine with innovative maneuvers.&lt;br /&gt;A NORMAL PERSON  : You can't try to teach an old dog new tricks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A GRE STUDENT : Surveillance should precede saltation.&lt;br /&gt;A NORMAL PERSON  : Look before you leap&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A GRE STUDENT : Scintillate, scintillate,asteroid minim.&lt;br /&gt;A NORMAL PERSON  : Twinkle,twinkle, little star&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A GRE STUDENT : The person presenting the ultimate cachinnation possesses thereby the optimal cachinnation.&lt;br /&gt;A NORMAL PERSON  : He who laughs last, laughs the best&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A GRE STUDENT : Exclusive dedication to necessitous chores without interludes of hedonistic diversion renders Jack a hebetudinous fellow.&lt;br /&gt;A NORMAL PERSON  : All work and no play makes jack a dull boy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A GRE STUDENT : Individuals who make their abodes in vitreous edifices would be advised to refrain from catapulting petrious projectiles.&lt;br /&gt;A NORMAL PERSON  : People who live in glass houses should not throw stones&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A GRE STUDENT : Where there are visible vapors having their provenance in ignited carbonaceous materials, there is conflagration.&lt;br /&gt;A NORMAL PERSON  : Where there's smoke, there's fire&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113384489472661157?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113384489472661157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113384489472661157' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113384489472661157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113384489472661157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/gre-students.html' title='GRE Students'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113358425938218321</id><published>2005-12-02T20:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T20:30:59.403-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Management Study</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Management Case Study No.1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The manager of a large corporation got a heart attack, and the Doctor told him to go for several weeks to a farm to relax. The guy went to a farm, and after a couple of days he was very bored, so he asked the farmer to give him some job to do. The farmer told him to clean the shit of the cows. The farmer thought that to somebody coming from the city, working the whole life sitting in an office, it will take over a week to finish the job, but to his surprise the manager finished the job in less than one day. The next day the farmer gave to the manager a more difficult job: to cut the heads of 500 chickens. The farmer was sure that the manager will not be able to do the job, but at the end of the day the job was done. The next morning, as most of the jobs in the farm were done, the farmer asked the manager to divide a bag of potatoes in two boxes: one box with small potatoes, and one box with big potatoes. At the end of the day the farmer saw that the manager was sitting in front of the potatoes bag, but the two boxes were empty. The farmer asked the manager: "How is&lt;br /&gt;that you did such difficult jobs during the first days, and now you cannot do this simple job?" The manager answered: "Listen, all my life I'm cutting heads and dealing with shit, but now you ask me to make decisions!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Management Case Study No.2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man goes into a pet shop to buy a parrot. The shop owner points to three identical looking parrots on a perch and says, "The parrot on the left costs 500 dollars".  &lt;br /&gt;"Why does the parrot cost so much," asks the man. The shop owner says, "well, the parrot knows how to use a computer". The man then asks about the next parrot to be told that this one costs 1,000 dollars because it can do everything the other parrot can do plus it knows how to use the UNIX operating system. Naturally, the increasingly startled man asks about the third Parrot to be told that it costs 2,000 dollars. Needless to say this begs the question, "What can it do?" To which the shop owner replies, "To be honest I have never seen it do a thing, but the other two call him Boss!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113358425938218321?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113358425938218321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113358425938218321' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113358425938218321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113358425938218321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/management-study.html' title='Management Study'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113349690392397882</id><published>2005-12-01T19:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T20:58:16.513-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Its the thought that matters!</title><content type='html'>An old man lived alone in Minnesota in US. He wanted to spade &lt;br /&gt;his potato garden,but it was very hard work. His only son, who would have helped him, was in prison. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man wrote a letter to his son and mentioned his situation: "Dear Son, I am feeling pretty bad because it looks like I won't be able to plant my potato garden this year. I hate to miss doing the garden, because your mother always loved planting time. I'm just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. If you were here,all my troubles would be over.I know you would dig the plot for me, if you weren't in prison. Love, Dad."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Shortly, the old man received this telegram: "For Heaven's sake, Dad,don't dig up the garden!! That's where I buried the GUNS!!" At 4 a.m. the next morning, a dozen FBI agents and local police officers showed up and dug up the entire garden without finding any guns. Confused,the old man wrote another note to his son telling him what happened. His son's reply was: Go ahead and plant your Potatoes, Dad. It's the best&lt;br /&gt;I could do for you from here.&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"No matter where you are in the world, if you have decided to do something deep from your heart you can do it. It is the thought that matters it is not where you are or where the person is".&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113349690392397882?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113349690392397882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113349690392397882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113349690392397882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113349690392397882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/its-thought-that-matters.html' title='Its the thought that matters!'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113340907601065190</id><published>2005-11-30T19:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-30T19:51:16.023-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Tested Laws</title><content type='html'>How true...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) LORENZ'S LAW OF MECHANICAL REPAIR: &lt;br /&gt; After your hands become coated with grease, your nose will begin to itch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 2) ANTHONY'S LAW OF THE WORKSHOP: &lt;br /&gt;Any tool, when dropped, will roll to the least accessible corner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 3) KOVAC'S CONUNDRUM: &lt;br /&gt;When you dial a wrong number, you never get an engaged tone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) CANNON'S KARMIC LAW: &lt;br /&gt;If you tell the boss you were late for work because you had a flat tyre, the next morning you will have a flat tyre. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) O'BRIEN'S VARIATION LAW: &lt;br /&gt;If you change queues, the one you have left will start to move faster than the one you are in now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) BELL'S THEOREM: &lt;br /&gt;When  the body is immersed in water, the telephone rings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) RUBY'S PRINCIPLE OF CLOSE ENCOUNTERS: &lt;br /&gt;The probability of meeting someone you know increases when you are with someone you don't want to be seen with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) WILLOUGHBY'S LAW: &lt;br /&gt;When you try to prove to someone that a machine won't work, it will. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) ZADRA'S LAW OF BIOMECHANICS: &lt;br /&gt;The severity of the itch is inversely proportional to the reach. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) BREDA'S RULE: &lt;br /&gt;At any event, the people whose seats are farthest from the aisle arrive last. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11) OWEN'S LAW: &lt;br /&gt;As soon as you sit down to a cup of hot coffee, your boss will ask you to do something which will last until the coffee is cold. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12) HOWDEN'S LAW: &lt;br /&gt;You remember you have to mail a letter only when you're near the mailbox.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113340907601065190?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113340907601065190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113340907601065190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113340907601065190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113340907601065190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/12/time-tested-laws.html' title='Time Tested Laws'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113333419246732701</id><published>2005-11-29T22:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T23:03:12.480-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boss' Expectation</title><content type='html'>A butcher watching over his shop is really surprised when he saw a dog coming inside the shop. He shoos him away. But later, the dog is back again. So, he goes over to the dog and notices he has a note in his mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He takes the note and it reads, "Can I have 12 sausages and a leg of lamb, please". The dog has money in his mouth, as well. The butcher looks inside and lo and behold, there is a ten-dollar note there. So he takes the money and puts the sausages and lamb in a bag, placing it in the dog's mouth. The butcher is so impressed, and since it's about closing time, he decides to shut up shop and follow the dog. So off he goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dog is walking down the street when he comes to a level crossing. The dog puts down the bag, jumps up and presses the button. Then he waits patiently, bag in mouth, for the lights to turn. They do, and he walks across the road, with the butcher following him all the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dog then comes to a bus stop, and starts looking at the timetable. The butcher is in awe at this stage. The dog checks out the times, and then sits on one of the seats provided. Along comes a bus. The dog walks around to the front, looks at the number, and goes back to his seat. Another bus comes. Again the dog goes and looks at the number, notices it's the right bus and climbs on. The butcher, by now, open-mouthed, follows him onto the bus. The bus travels through the town and out into the suburbs, the dog looking at the scenery. Eventually he gets up, and moves to the front of the bus. He stands on 2 back paws and pushes the button to stop the bus. Then he gets off, his groceries still in his mouth. Well, dog and butcher are walking along the road, and then the dog turns into a house. He walks up the path, and drops the groceries on the step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he walks back down the path, takes a big run, and throws himself against the door. He goes back down the path, runs up to the door and again throws himself against it. There's no answer at the house, so the dog goes back down the path, jumps up on a narrow wall, and walks along the perimeter of the garden. He gets to the window, and beats his head against it several times, walks back, jumps off, and waits at the door. The butcher watches as a big guy opens the door, and starts abusing the dog, kicking him and punching him, and swearing at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The butcher runs up, and stops the guy. "What in heaven's name are you doing? The dog is a genius. He could be on TV, for the life of me!" to which the guy responds: "You call this clever? This is the second time this week that this stupid dog's forgotten his key."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Moral of the story..... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You may continue to exceed onlookers' expectations but shall always fall short of your boss expectations.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113333419246732701?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113333419246732701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113333419246732701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113333419246732701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113333419246732701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/boss-expectation.html' title='Boss&apos; Expectation'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113323261448370803</id><published>2005-11-28T18:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T03:51:09.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Honda Accord Ad</title><content type='html'>Read the story below and then go watch the link that is all the way at the bottom! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are no computer graphics or digital tricks in the film. Everything you see really happened in real time exactly as you see it. The film took 606 takes. On the first 605 takes, something, usually very minor, didn't work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They would then have to set the whole thing up again. The crew spent weeks shooting night and day. By the time it was over, they were ready to change professions. The film cost six million dollars and &lt;br /&gt;took three months to complete including full engineering of the sequence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition, it's two minutes long so every time Honda airs the film on British television, they're shelling out enough dough to keep any one of us in clover for a lifetime. However, it is fast becoming the most downloaded advertisement in Internet history.. Honda executives figure the ad will soon pay for itself simply in "free viewings" (Honda isn't paying a dime to have you watch this commercial!). When the ad was pitched to senior executives, they signed off on it&lt;br /&gt;immediately without any hesitation - including the costs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are six and only six handmade Accords in the world. To the horror of Honda engineers, the filmmakers disassembled two of them to make the film. Everything you see in the film (aside from the walls,floor, ramp, and complete Honda Accord) are parts from &lt;br /&gt;those two cars. The voice-over is Garrison Keillor. When the ad was shown to Honda executives, they liked it and commented on how amazing computer graphics have gotten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They fell off their chairs when they found out it was for real.&lt;br /&gt;Oh... and about those funky windshield wipers. On the new Accords, the windshield wipers have water sensors and are designed to start doing their thing automatically as soon as they become wet. It looks a bit weird in the commercial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Note You will require Flash Version 6 to play this*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.steelcitysfinest.com/HondaAccordAd.htm"&gt;http://www.steelcitysfinest.com/HondaAccordAd.htm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113323261448370803?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113323261448370803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113323261448370803' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113323261448370803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113323261448370803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/honda-accord-ad.html' title='Honda Accord Ad'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113314611337389885</id><published>2005-11-27T18:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-27T18:48:33.386-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Joke : Don't wait too long!</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time there was a Prince who, through no fault of his own was cast under a spell by an evil witch. The curse was that the Prince could speak only one word each year. However, he could save up the words so that if he did not speak for a whole year, then the following year he was allowed to speak two words. (This was before the time of letter writing or sign language.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day he met a beautiful princess (ruby lips, golden hair, sapphire eyes,) and fell madly in love. With the greatest difficulty he decided to refrain from speaking for two whole years so that he could look at her and say "my darling". but at the end of the two years he wished to tell her that he loved her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of this, he waited three more years without speaking (bringing the total number of silent years to 5). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But at the end of these five years, he realized that he had to ask her to marry him. So he waited ANOTHER four years  without speaking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, as the ninth year of silence ended, his joy knew no bounds. Leading the lovely princess to the most secluded  nd romantic place in that beautiful royal garden the prince heaped a hundred red roses on her lap, knelt before her, and taking her hand in his, said huskily, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My darling, I love you!  Will you marry me?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the princess tucked a strand of golden hair behind a dainty ear, opened her sapphire eyes in wonder, and parting her ruby lips, said "Pardon?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113314611337389885?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113314611337389885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113314611337389885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113314611337389885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113314611337389885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/joke-dont-wait-too-long.html' title='Joke : Don&apos;t wait too long!'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113310068039219871</id><published>2005-11-27T05:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-27T06:11:20.413-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Les Catacombes de Paris</title><content type='html'>Hold on...Iam not posting anything in French here.  I happened to remember a TV programme I watched a few years back about a trip through the Catacombs of Paris.  A Catacomb happens to be an underground cemetery consisting of chambers or tunnels with recesses for graves(quoted verbatim from &lt;a href="http://www.dictionary.com"&gt;www.dictionary.com&lt;/a&gt;). I came to know through the programme, that in Paris there exists an underground cemetery, in which bones of generations of Parisians have been stored in order to solve the problem of overpopulation in the cemeteries of the capital.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/promo93_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/promo93_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;A fresco on the wall of the Paris Catacombs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although the Italian Catacombs in Rome, are much older than the Parisian Catacombs, Iam still posting about this since the trip through the labyrinthine Catacombs which seemed to run into a maze, was really scary.  I vaguely remember that the people who had entered (I believe they had taken the permission...were searching for some treasure...but returned empty-handed).  I learnt a little bit more about the Catacombs from this site.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://membres.lycos.fr/houze/english/"&gt;http://membres.lycos.fr/houze/english/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be sure to read about Philibert Aspairt there.  I deliberately posted a "cool" fresco, rather than something bizarre on my blog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people might have noticed that I don't post my views/comments about incidents,happenings as much as I like making a note about general things.  That is because my views are as restless as my blog itself.  So I believe there is no point bothering myself and my readers with my views. And I somehow like making notes of the things, which I have watched, listened, read over a period of time, so that I can comeback in future to refer.  I should say, that the blog is an ideal online diary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113310068039219871?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113310068039219871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113310068039219871' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113310068039219871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113310068039219871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/les-catacombes-de-paris.html' title='Les Catacombes de Paris'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113309599340084956</id><published>2005-11-27T04:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-27T05:25:46.790-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I want to be a Pilot</title><content type='html'>This morning I was switching the TV back and forth between two programmes- one was the programme on creating AIDS awareness in India which featured Richard Gere and the other was a programme on National Geographic Channel called "Mission Udaan".  This was an unique programme in the sense, NatGeo together with the Indian Airforce conducted a selection campaign to pick up one aspirant who would be picked to fly one of the most advanced Fighter jets - the Russian Sukhoi SU30.  The selection was conducted in three Indian cities Delhi, Mumbai and Bangalore.  From each city 10 people have been shortlisted and from these 30, one finalist would have the envious job of flying a Sukhoi.  The first episode which was telecast today had shortlisted 30 aspirants, Iam eagerly looking forward to the second episode where I think I would get to see all the selection drills for a Pilot.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/Sukhoi_Su30.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/Sukhoi_Su30.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The selection process was certainly demanding.  It consisted of a medley race where you had to run end to end on all fours and then running backwards.  There was then a group task where the group would be given certain equipments and would be asked to accomplish a task, this was then followed by a Group Problem Solving Exercise and a personal interview.  During the course of the interview, I found that many incumbents told that it was their ambition,dream,goal,desire to fly a plane/to become a pilot/to join the Indian Airforce. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I instantly remembered that as a kid, I would often say that I wanted to become a Pilot one day.  However the thought soon petered out and I became "truly interested!!" in other professions like Painter, Architect, Train Driver, Agriculturalist, a Kung-fu fighter(after seeing Bruce Lee movies) and not to mention a Poultry farmer.  But then I ventured into GIS projects and Cartography(map-making) after my MBA before settling(hope so!) to be a SAP consultant in an automotive company, &lt;a href="http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/what-i-get-paid-for.html"&gt;doing all these things&lt;/a&gt;  But I still enjoy the thought of flying(of course not as a pilot).  I make it a point to get a window seat on a flight. I like peeping out of the window and to see a real map on the ground with my own eyes.  I can find an instant similarity between what I see through the window and what I see on satellite imageries and topographical map sheets.  The buildings are all a stack of toy boxes, the rivers are winding snakes and the clouds...its indeed an experience to fly above the clouds and to peep through the window.  Flying was the first thought which used to fascinate me as a kid, and Iam still fascinated by flying objects...so don't blame me if you find lot on my blog about Aeroplanes and stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113309599340084956?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113309599340084956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113309599340084956' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113309599340084956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113309599340084956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/i-want-to-be-pilot.html' title='I want to be a Pilot'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113309299695234688</id><published>2005-11-27T03:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-27T04:03:16.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'>20 Airbus Crashes a Day</title><content type='html'>I happened to see a programme on TV today which was held in Hyderabad on Oct 22 to increase awareness about AIDS in India.  Several actors from the South Indian film Industry had come together to participate in the song and dance show organised by the Heroes Project in order to spread awareness about AIDS in India. This project is being spearheaded by popular Hollywood Actor and Social Activist Richard Gere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/gere.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/gere.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Richard Gere with Kamalhassan and Kalanidhi Maran&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking on the occasion, Richard Gere said that World over an astounding 8000 people die of AIDS.  He equated the same to 20 Airbus crashes a day and all the passengers succumbing to the crash.  Hard reality...which is difficult to digest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read more about it here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hindu.com/thehindu/mp/2005/10/26/stories/2005102601010100.htm"&gt;http://www.hindu.com/thehindu/mp/2005/10&lt;br /&gt;/26/stories/2005102601010100.htm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"India is growing at an extraordinary pace — it will soon become one of the world's leading nations. There's no doubt about that," says Gere. "But a social problem like AIDS needs an enormous amount of work here. And the actors could be a catalyst to set it off." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stating that they have divided their campaign into two sections for the North and South of India, Gere says, "I don't pretend to know all the answers. But I find that the South is very different — in the rhythms in which people talk to each other, the actors they admire, and the way they deify those actors." And then, there are the fan clubs, which do substantial social work. "You wouldn't find that in America... And there's much more social responsibility among the actors in the south." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gere has been coming to India "for close to 30 years now, initially on a spiritual quest... I think there is something deep inside me that connects here." That's just one of the reasons he stays. The other is to engineer change. "I have seen the mistakes my country has made, and I want to find a way to keep India from making the same mistakes."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113309299695234688?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113309299695234688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113309299695234688' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113309299695234688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113309299695234688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/20-airbus-crashes-day.html' title='20 Airbus Crashes a Day'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113297298530662934</id><published>2005-11-25T18:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-25T18:48:29.790-08:00</updated><title type='text'>God...</title><content type='html'>From world over, he received letters from his fans, one of which conveyed:&lt;br /&gt;“Why does GOD have to select you for such a bad disease”? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To this Arthur Ashe replied: The world over -- 5o million children start playing tennis, 5 million learn to play tennis, 0.5 million learn professional tennis, 50,000 come to the circuit, 5000 reach the grand slam, 50 reach Wimbeldon, 4 to semi final, 2 to the finals, When I was holding a cup I never asked GOD “Why me?”. And today in pain I should not be asking GOD “Why me?” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happiness keeps you Sweet, Trials keep you Strong, Sorrow keeps you Human, Failure Keeps you Humble, Success keeps you Glowing, But only God Keeps you Going.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113297298530662934?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113297298530662934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113297298530662934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113297298530662934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113297298530662934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/god.html' title='God...'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113288803688420970</id><published>2005-11-24T18:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-27T05:27:57.820-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A touching story by Tagore</title><content type='html'>I read about an inappropriate relationship between a teacher and her student in Tony's blog.  I am reminded of a short story titled 'The PostMaster' by Rabindranath Tagore, the first Indian Nobel Laureate(for Literature), which is in complete contrast.  It is about a city-bred individual who takes up a job as a PostMaster in a remote village in Bengal and an Orphan girl named Ratan.  It is a poignant tale narrating the affection between the two.  While the girl looks upto the Postmaster as a well-wisher and guardian, the Postmaster tries to see his Mother and his Sister in the girl.  I tried to get the URL of the story, but could not manage.  I have given the link to a movie review based on the story.  The movie is titled 'Two daughters' and has been directed by the eminent director Satyajit Ray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://movies2.nytimes.com/gst/movies/movie.html?v_id=51378"&gt;http://movies2.nytimes.com/gst/movies/movie.html?v_id=51378&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If somebody gets the link to the story on the web, please share it.  The end to the story is indeed very touching.  Iam reminded of a piece from H.W.Longfellow's poem &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;'The Theologian's Tale: Elizabeth'&lt;/span&gt;.  It compares very much with the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"Ships that pass in the night and speak each other in passing;&lt;br /&gt;Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;&lt;br /&gt;So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another, &lt;br /&gt;Only a look and a voice; then darkness again and a silence"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I feel the same way when I left Delhi(my home for 6 years) for Indore a couple of days back...may be... that's life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113288803688420970?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113288803688420970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113288803688420970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113288803688420970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113288803688420970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/touching-story-by-tagore.html' title='A touching story by Tagore'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113282671328245148</id><published>2005-11-24T02:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-24T02:11:25.940-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meetings...</title><content type='html'>Bothered by the plethora of meetings happening at the workplace, my colleague shared a quote on 'Meetings' which he had read somewhere.  I found it good and here it is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Meeting is a place where hours are wasted and minutes are noted!!'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113282671328245148?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113282671328245148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113282671328245148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113282671328245148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113282671328245148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/meetings.html' title='Meetings...'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113280913916811734</id><published>2005-11-23T20:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-23T21:17:05.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New place...New start</title><content type='html'>I know I have not posted anything for the last two days.  The reason being I was busy organising my transfer from New Delhi to Indore, Madhya Pradesh in Central India.  Yesterday was also the first time I sat in a tiny 48 seater aircraft.  Being used to the mammoth Boeings and Airbuses...this was certainly amusing to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming to this new place, professionally there are some differences in the work environment.  Although it is the same company, earlier I was in a Corporate environment, now I would be working from a Manufacturing Plant.  It means getting up early...Office starts at 8am and the city(where I reside) is approximately 40 kms from the Office, which means more time spent in commuting.  Blogging is becoming more of a habit now, with new-found friends and more visits to my blog, so I guess I will find time even here to post regularly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113280913916811734?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113280913916811734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113280913916811734' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113280913916811734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113280913916811734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/new-placenew-start.html' title='New place...New start'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113256597893147345</id><published>2005-11-21T01:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T01:39:38.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaders</title><content type='html'>Excerpts from the book 'Winning' by Jack Welch &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During his long career, Welch mentored a generation of future CEOs. His rules of the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, you become a leader. On Monday, you're talking and laughing with colleagues about life and work, and gossiping about management. Then on Tuesday, you are management. You're a boss. Suddenly, everything feels different-because it is different. Leadership requires distinct behaviors and attitudes, and for many people, they debut with the job. Before you become a leader, success is all about growing yourself. When you become a leader, success is all about growing others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are my eight "rules" to become a good leader. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1 Leaders relentlessly upgrade their team, using every encounter as an opportunity to evaluate, coach and build self-confidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The team with the best players usually does win. And that is why, very simply, you need to invest the vast majority of your time and energy as a leader in three activities. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have to evaluate-making sure the right people are in the right jobs, supporting and advancing those who are, and moving out those who are not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have to coach-guiding, critiquing and helping people to improve their performance in every way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, you have to build self-confidence-pouring out encouragement, caring and recognition. Self-confidence energizes, and it gives your people the courage to stretch, take risks and achieve beyond their dreams. It is the fuel of winning teams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too often, managers think that people development occurs once a year in performance reviews. That's not even close. It should be a daily event, integrated into every aspect of your regular goings-on. Customer visits are a chance to evaluate your sales force. Plant tours are an opportunity to meet promising new line managers. A coffee break at a meeting is an opening to coach a team member about to give his first major presentation. Think of yourself as a gardener, with a watering can in one hand and a can of fertilizer in the other. Occasionally you have to pull some weeds, but most of the time, you just nurture and tend. Then watch everything bloom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#2 Leaders make sure people not only see the vision, they live and breathe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leaders have to set the team's vision and make it come alive. How do you achieve that? First of all, no jargon. Targets cannot be so blurry they can't be hit. You have to talk about vision constantly to everyone. A common problem is that leaders communicate the vision to close colleagues and it never filters down to people in frontline positions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want people to live and breathe the vision, "show them the money" when they do, be it with salary, bonus, or significant recognition. To quote a friend of mine, Chuck Ames, the former chairman and CEO of Reliance Electric, "Show me a company's various compensation plans, and I'll show you how its people behave."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#3 Leaders get into everyone's skin, exuding positive energy and optimism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An upbeat manager with a positive outlook somehow ends up running a team or organization filled with ... well, upbeat people with positive outlooks. A sourpuss somehow ends up with an unhappy tribe all his own. Unhappy tribes have a tough time winning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work can be hard. But your job as leader is to fight the gravitational pull of negativism. That doesn't mean you sugarcoat the challenges. It does mean you display an energizing, can-do attitude about overcoming them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#4 Leaders establish trust with candor, transparency and credit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your people should always know where they stand. They have to know how the business is doing. And sometimes the news is not good-such as imminent layoffs-and any normal person would rather avoid delivering it. But you have to fight the impulse to pad hard messages or you'll pay with your team's confidence and energy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leaders also establish trust by giving credit where credit is due. They never score off their own people by stealing an idea and claiming it as their own. They don't kiss up and kick down because they are self-confident and mature enough to know that their team's success will get them recognition, and sooner rather than later. In bad times, leaders take responsibility for what's gone wrong. In good times, they generously pass around the praise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#5 Leaders have the courage to make unpopular decisions and gut calls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are times you have to make hard decisions-let people go, cut funding to a project, or close a plant. Obviously, tough calls spawn complaints and resistance. Your job is to listen and explain yourself clearly but move forward. You are not a leader to win a popularity contest-you are a leader to lead. Don't run for office. You're already elected. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes making a decision is hard not because it's unpopular, but because it comes from your gut and defies a "technical" rationale. Much has been written about the mystery of gut, but it's really just pattern recognition, isn't it? You've seen something so many times you just know what's going on this time. The facts may be incomplete, but the situation feels very, very familiar to you. Sometimes the hardest gut calls involve picking people. You meet a candidate who has all the right stuff. But something nags at you, and you're left with that uh-oh feeling. Don't hire the guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#6 Leaders probe and push with a curiosity that borders on skepticism, making sure their questions are answered with action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are an individual contributor, you try to have all the answers. When you are a leader, your job is to have all the questions. You have to be incredibly comfortable looking like the dumbest person in the room. Every conversation you have about a decision, a proposal, or a piece of market information has to be filled with you saying, "What if?" and "Why not?" and "How come?" Questioning, however, is never enough. You have to make sure your questions unleash debate and raise issues that get action. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#7 Leaders inspire risk taking and learning by setting the example.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These two concepts often get lip service-and little else. Too many managers urge their people to try new things and then whack them in the head when they fail. And too many live in not-invented-here worlds of their own making. If you want your people to experiment, set the example yourself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Consider risk taking. You don't need to be preachy or somber about your errors. In fact, the more humorous and lighthearted you can be, the more people will get the message that mistakes aren't fatal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for learning-again, live it yourself. Just because you're the boss doesn't mean you're the source of all knowledge. Whenever I learned about a best practice that I liked at another company, I would come back to GE and make a scene. Maybe I overstated the case, but I wanted people to know how enthusiastic I was about the new idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#8 Leaders celebrate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does celebrating make managers so nervous? Maybe throwing a party doesn't seem professional, or it makes managers worry that they won't look serious to the powers that be, or that, if things get too happy at the office, people will stop working their tails off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is just not enough celebrating going on at work-anywhere. I harped on the importance of celebrating for 20 years. But during my last trip as CEO to our training center in Crotonville, N.Y., I asked the 100 or so managers in the class, "Do you celebrate enough in your units?" Even knowing what I wanted them to say, less than half answered yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a lost opportunity. Celebrating creates an atmosphere of recognition and positive energy. Imagine a team winning the World Series without champagne spraying everywhere. And yet companies win all the time and let it go without so much as a high five. Work is too much a part of life not to recognize moments of achievement. Make a big deal out of them. If you don't, no one will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am often asked if leaders are born or made. The answer, of course, is both. Some characteristics, like IQ and energy, seem to come with the package. On the other hand, you learn some leadership skills, like self-confidence, at your mother's knee, and at school, in academics and sports. And you learn others at work-trying something, getting it wrong and learning from it, or getting it right and gaining the self-confidence to do it again, only better&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113256597893147345?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113256597893147345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113256597893147345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113256597893147345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113256597893147345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/leaders.html' title='Leaders'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113256425237979120</id><published>2005-11-21T01:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T03:25:31.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Driving Licence of a Woman in Iraq</title><content type='html'>Wonder how they will identify her...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/License.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/License.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113256425237979120?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113256425237979120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113256425237979120' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113256425237979120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113256425237979120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/driving-licence-of-woman-in-iraq.html' title='Driving Licence of a Woman in Iraq'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113250353195333776</id><published>2005-11-20T07:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-20T08:23:41.143-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shine On You Crazy Diamond</title><content type='html'>This post is a tribute and also an admiration of the incredible power and reach of the Internet.  What made me admire...read on.  I was searching for info on my most favourite Cartoon series Tom and Jerry.  To say that, I was surprised to know that Tom and Jerry are more than twice my age would be an under-statement.  I was stunned to know that the first and Tom and Jerry cartoon came in the 1930s.  Yet it appeals to me and even the present day kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/Tomjerrylogo40s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/Tomjerrylogo40s.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Similarly the TV serial which used to come in Doordarshan in the 80s 'The Giant Robot' - it seems was produced in 1965.  As Iam typing this, Iam listening to 'Shine on You Crazy Diamond' by Pink Floyd.  Being, not well-versed with Western Music(for me Western Music was only Michael Jackson the King of Pop), I used to think (not a long time ago),that Pink Floyd is a contemporary musician.  Some searching on Internet, and I came to know that Pink Floyd's period was the 60s and the 70s and it was a group of musicians.  Call it my ignorance or anything...if not for the internet I would still not have known about Tom and Jerry, Giant Robot, and Shine on You Crazy Diamond.  Iam filled with a child-like enthusiasm when I get to know these titbits of information.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW, the song is great and I learnt that it is a tribute to one of the members of the Pink Floyd Group, Syd Barrett who died a lunatic.  "Shine on You Crazy Diamonds" happened to be the Motto of the Aravali Hostel at IIT Delhi(Year 2000...if Iam not wrong!), from where I took a liking to the line and googled to find its source.  A Salute to the Internet for letting me know.  Shine on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/diamond.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/diamond.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113250353195333776?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113250353195333776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113250353195333776' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113250353195333776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113250353195333776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/shine-on-you-crazy-diamond.html' title='Shine On You Crazy Diamond'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113247667862655538</id><published>2005-11-20T00:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-20T00:51:34.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'>People Learn From Their Mistakes!</title><content type='html'>This was a hilarious e-mail forward, that I want to share with all you guys...no offence intended.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A. The first photo was taken when the Chinese president went to US. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B. The second photo was taken when Bush went to China .   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/ATT9586231.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/ATT9586231.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/ATT9586232.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/ATT9586232.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113247667862655538?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113247667862655538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113247667862655538' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113247667862655538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113247667862655538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/people-learn-from-their-mistakes.html' title='People Learn From Their Mistakes!'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113247602152800641</id><published>2005-11-20T00:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-20T00:40:21.540-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Do not Give Up Hopes any time !!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/deadlock.0.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/deadlock.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113247602152800641?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113247602152800641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113247602152800641' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113247602152800641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113247602152800641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/do-not-give-up-hopes-any-time.html' title='Do not Give Up Hopes any time !!'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113246718319277138</id><published>2005-11-19T22:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-19T22:31:02.290-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Joke: US version of Diwali</title><content type='html'>A young second generation Indian in the US was asked by his mother to explain the significance of "Diwali" to his younger brother, this is how he went about it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" So, like this dude had, like, a big cool kingdom and people liked him. But, like, his step-mom, or something, was kind of a bitch, and she forced her husband to, like, send this cool-dude, he was Ram, to some national forest or something...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since he was going, for like, something like more than 10 years or so.. he decided to get his wife and his bro along... you know...so that they could all chill out together. But Dude, the forest was reeeeal scary shit... really man... they had monkeys and devils and shit like that. But this dude, Ram, kicked ass with darts and bows and arrows... so it was fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then some bad gangsta boys, some jerk called Ravan, picks up his babe (Sita) and lures her away to his hood. And boy, was our man, and also his bro, Laxman, pissed... And you don't piss this son-of-a-gun cuz, he just kicks ass and like... all the gods were with him... So anyways,you don't mess with gods. So, Ram, and his bro get an army of monkeys..Dude, don't ask me how they trained the damn monkeys... just go along with me, ok...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Ram, Lax and their monkeys whip this gangsta's ass in his own hood. Anyways, by this time, their time's up in the forest...and anyways...it gets kinda boring,you know... no TV or malls or shit like that. So,they decided to hitch a ride back home... and when the people realize that our dude, his bro and the wife are back&lt;br /&gt;home... they thought, well, you know, at least they deserve something nice... and they didn't have any bars or clubs in those days...so they couldn't take them out for a drink, so they, like,decided to smoke and shit...and since they also had some lamps, they lit the lamps also... so it was pretty cooool...you know with all those fireworks... Really, they even had some local band play along with the fireworks... and you know, what, dude, that was the very first, no kidding.., that was the very first music-synchronized fireworks... you know, like the 4th of July stuff, but just, more cooler and stuff, you know. And, so dude, that was how, like, this festival started."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113246718319277138?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113246718319277138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113246718319277138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113246718319277138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113246718319277138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/joke-us-version-of-diwali.html' title='Joke: US version of Diwali'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113238512609443030</id><published>2005-11-18T23:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-18T23:27:36.403-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Problems people faced with Computers</title><content type='html'>Here are some problems. People who know nothing about computer, but buy a computer often faced these problems.&lt;br /&gt;1. Compaq is considering changing the command "Press Any Key"&lt;br /&gt;to "Press  Return Key" because of the flood of calls asking&lt;br /&gt;where the "Any" key is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. AST technical support had a caller complaining that her&lt;br /&gt;mouse was hard  to control with the dust cover on. The cover&lt;br /&gt;turned out to be the plastic bag the mouse was packaged in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Another Compaq technician received a call from a man&lt;br /&gt;complaining that the system wouldn't read word processing files&lt;br /&gt;from his old diskettes. After trouble-shooting for magnets and&lt;br /&gt;heat failed to diagnose the problem, it was found that the&lt;br /&gt;customer labeled the diskettes then rolled them into the&lt;br /&gt;typewriter to type the labels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Another AST customer was asked to send a copy of her&lt;br /&gt;defective diskettes. A few days later a letter arrived from the&lt;br /&gt;customer along with Xeroxed copies of the floppies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. A Dell technician advised his customer to put his troubled&lt;br /&gt;floppy back in the drive and close the door. The customer asked&lt;br /&gt;the tech to hold on, and was heard putting the phone down,&lt;br /&gt;getting up and crossing the room to close the door to his room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Another Dell customer called to say he couldn't get his&lt;br /&gt;computer to fax anything. After 40 minutes of trouble-shooting,&lt;br /&gt;the technician discovered the man was trying to fax a piece of&lt;br /&gt;paper by holding it in front of the monitor screen and hitting&lt;br /&gt;the "send" key.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Another Dell customer needed help setting up a new program,&lt;br /&gt;so a Dell tech suggested he go to the local Egghead. "Yeah, I&lt;br /&gt;got me a couple of friends," the customer replied. When told&lt;br /&gt;Egghead was a software store, the man said, "Oh, I thought you&lt;br /&gt;meant for me to find a couple of geeks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Yet another Dell customer called to complain that his&lt;br /&gt;keyboard no longer worked. He had cleaned it by filling up his&lt;br /&gt;tub with soap and water and soaking the keyboard for a day,&lt;br /&gt;then removing all the keys and washing them individually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. A Dell technician received a call from a customer who was&lt;br /&gt;enraged because his computer had told him he was "bad and an&lt;br /&gt;invalid". The tech explained that the computer's "bad command"&lt;br /&gt;and "invalid" responses shouldn't be taken personally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. An exasperated caller to Dell Computer Tech Support&lt;br /&gt;couldn't get her new Dell Computer to turn on. After ensuring&lt;br /&gt;the computer was plugged in, the technician asked her what&lt;br /&gt;happened when she pushed the power button. Her response, "I&lt;br /&gt;pushed and pushed on this foot pedal and nothing happens." The&lt;br /&gt;"foot pedal" turned out to be the computer's mouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Another customer called Compaq tech support to say her&lt;br /&gt;brand-new computer wouldn't work. She said she unpacked the&lt;br /&gt;unit, plugged it in, and sat there for 20 minutes waiting for&lt;br /&gt;something to happen. When asked what happened when she pressed&lt;br /&gt;the power switch, she asked "What power switch?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. 1st Person:  "Do you know anything about  this&lt;br /&gt;fax-machine?" 2nd Person:  "A little.  What's wrong?" 1st&lt;br /&gt;Person:  "Well, I sent a fax, and the recipient called back to&lt;br /&gt;say all she received was a cover-sheet and a blank page. I&lt;br /&gt;tried it again, and the same thing happened." 2nd Person:  "How&lt;br /&gt;did you load the sheet?" 1st Person:  "It's a pretty sensitive&lt;br /&gt;memo, and I didn't want anyone else to read it by accident, so&lt;br /&gt;I folded it so only the recipient would open it and read it."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. True story from a Novell NetWire SysOp: Caller: "Hello, is&lt;br /&gt;this Tech Support?"  Tech: "Yes, it is. How may I help you?"&lt;br /&gt;Caller: "The cup holder on my PC is broken and I am within my&lt;br /&gt;warranty period. How do I go about getting that fixed?" Tech:&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry, but did you say a cup holder?" Caller: "Yes, it's&lt;br /&gt;attached to the front of my computer." Tech: "Please excuse me&lt;br /&gt;if I seem a bit stumped, It's because I am. Did you receive&lt;br /&gt;this as part of a promotional, at a trade show? How did you get&lt;br /&gt;this cup holder? Does it have any trademark on it?" Caller: "It&lt;br /&gt;came with my computer, I don't know anything about a&lt;br /&gt;promotional. It just has '4X' on it."&lt;br /&gt;At this point the Tech Rep had to mute the caller, because he&lt;br /&gt;couldn't stand it. The caller had been using the load drawer of&lt;br /&gt;the CD-ROM drive as a cup holder, and snapped it off the&lt;br /&gt;drive!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113238512609443030?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113238512609443030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113238512609443030' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113238512609443030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113238512609443030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/problems-people-faced-with-computers.html' title='Problems people faced with Computers'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113231124367180956</id><published>2005-11-18T02:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-18T02:54:03.683-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Working...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/Working.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/Working.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113231124367180956?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113231124367180956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113231124367180956' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113231124367180956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113231124367180956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/working.html' title='Working...'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113230804862539853</id><published>2005-11-18T01:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-19T22:30:15.066-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Joke : Airlines Announcements...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Lufthansa Airlines &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passengers on a Lufthansa flight heard this announcement from the captain :"Ladies and Gentlemen, I am sorry to inform you that we have lost power to all of our engines and will shortly crash into the ocean". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The passengers were obviously very worried about this situation but were somewhat comforted by the captain's next announcement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ladies and Gentlemen, we at Lufthansa have prepared for such an emergency and we would now like you to rearrange your seating so that all the non-swimmers are on the left side of the plane and all the swimmers are on the right side of the plane after this announcement all the passengers rearranged their seating to comply with the captain's request. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two minutes later the captain made a belly landing in the ocean. The captain once again made an announcement: "Ladies and Gentlemen we have crashed into the ocean. All of the swimmers on the right side of the plane, open your emergency exits and &lt;br /&gt;quickly swim away from the plane. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For all of the non-swimmers on the left side of plane... -Thank You For &lt;br /&gt;Flying Lufthansa- ". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;British Airways &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is Captain Sinclair speaking. On behalf of my crew I'd like to welcome you aboard British Airways flight 602 from New York to London. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are currently flying at a height of 35,000 feet midway across the Atlantic." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you look out of the windows on the starboard side of the aircraft, you will observe that both the starboard engines are on fire. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you look out of the windows on the port side, you will observe that the port wing has fallen off." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you look down towards the Atlantic ocean, you will see a little yellow life raft with three people in it waving at you. That's me your captain, the co-pilot, and one of the air stewardesses. This is a recorded message." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Delta Airlines &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the airport for a trip, I settled down to wait for the boarding announcement at Gate 35. Then I heard the voice on the public address system saying, "We apologize for the inconvenience, but Delta Flight 570 will board from Gate 41." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my family picked up our luggage and carried it over to Gate 41. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not ten minutes later the public address voice told us that Flight 570 would in fact be boarding from Gate 35. So again we gathered our carry-on luggage and returned to the original gate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as we were settling down, the public address voice spoke " Thank you for participating in Delta's physical fitness program."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113230804862539853?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113230804862539853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113230804862539853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113230804862539853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113230804862539853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/joke-airlines-announcements.html' title='Joke : Airlines Announcements...'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113220874989069143</id><published>2005-11-16T22:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T22:35:54.273-08:00</updated><title type='text'>'Me' in a Pencil Sketch</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/PencilSketch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/PencilSketch.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a pencil sketch of me done by buddy Dyeaneshwaran, during Traffic Engineering Lecture Hour in Transportation Seminar Hall, Anna University during our Final Year B.E. - 1998 A.D.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113220874989069143?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113220874989069143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113220874989069143' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113220874989069143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113220874989069143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/me-in-pencil-sketch.html' title='&apos;Me&apos; in a Pencil Sketch'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113214679070700963</id><published>2005-11-16T05:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T05:13:10.706-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Quote on 'Friends'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/photo611.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/photo611.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a quote which I read a long time back in Reader's Digest.  I penned this and posterized it using MS-Photo Editor to give it this look.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113214679070700963?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113214679070700963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113214679070700963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113214679070700963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113214679070700963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/quote-on-friends.html' title='A Quote on &apos;Friends&apos;'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113214631803409715</id><published>2005-11-16T04:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-18T23:36:19.993-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Word Wise - 3</title><content type='html'>Some English words which have their Origin in Arabic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Checkmate - From &lt;em&gt;'Shah'&lt;/em&gt; + &lt;em&gt;'Mat'&lt;/em&gt; meaning &lt;em&gt;'The King is dead'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Alcohol - From &lt;em&gt;Al - Kuhl&lt;/em&gt; meaning Essence.  Its also said that Arabic chemists came to use al-kuhl to mean “any fine powder produced in a number of ways, including the process of heating a substance to a gaseous state and then recooling it.”  Some say that the word has a Chinese Origin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Admiral - From &lt;em&gt;'Amir - a - Ali'&lt;/em&gt; meaning 'Commander of the Sea'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Gibraltar - From &lt;em&gt;Jabal Tariq&lt;/em&gt;, the "mountain of Tariq" after the general who led the Muslim conquest of Spain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113214631803409715?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113214631803409715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113214631803409715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113214631803409715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113214631803409715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/word-wise-3.html' title='Word Wise - 3'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113197561348266836</id><published>2005-11-14T05:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-14T05:50:12.996-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jawaharlal Nehru Pictures</title><content type='html'>On the occasion of the 116th birth anniversary of Jawaharlal Nehru today, also celebrated as Children's day, I searched the web for something interesting and landed on this site which has some rare pictures of Jawaharlal Nehru.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.kamat.com/kalranga/itihas/jawaharlal_nehru.htm"&gt;http://www.kamat.com/kalranga/itihas/jawaharlal_nehru.htm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/Nehru%20Rare.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/Nehru%20Rare.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The above Postal Stamp image which is again from the same site is a rare one, not only because it features a coin, but also because Nehru is shown without his cap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113197561348266836?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113197561348266836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113197561348266836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113197561348266836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113197561348266836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/jawaharlal-nehru-pictures.html' title='Jawaharlal Nehru Pictures'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113197417311674390</id><published>2005-11-14T04:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-14T05:16:14.166-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mozart's Requiem</title><content type='html'>I bought a CD of Mozart's Requiem, a few days back.  The Requiem is considered to be one of the masterpieces of Mozart and is also shrouded in mystery. Although I have not listened to it fully and have not been able to appreciate the composition and its beauty, it had a different feel from the few Western Classical Music compositions that I have heard so far.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/Requiem.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/Requiem.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See above the image of Mozart's original handwritten score of Requiem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart known as one of the first Master Composers along with the likes of Bach and Beethoven, is said to have composed the Requiem for his "own funeral".  It is said that he had received a commission from an unknown intermediary of Count Franz von Walsegg-Stuppach for writing a Requiem(a song or hymn of mourning composed or performed as a memorial to a dead person)Score to be performed on the anniversary of his Wife's death.  At his death on 5 December 1791 Mozart had only been able to complete the first movement of the Requiem's score—the Introit: Requiem—and to write part scores of nine of the following 13 sections.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read about Mozart's Requiem here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.everything2.com/index.pl?node=Mozart%20Requiem"&gt;http://www.everything2.com/index.pl?node=Mozart%20Requiem&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few more points of interest: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- It is said that Mozart burst into tears and could go no further when it came to the Lacrimosa, of which he only had written the first eight bars. &lt;br /&gt;- Mozart passed away five minutes to one on the morning of December 5th, to be buried a day or so later in an unmarked grave. &lt;br /&gt;- After her husband's death, Constanze Mozart claimed that he had a premonition that the Requiem was an omen of his own coming death. &lt;br /&gt;- Though it was expected that Constanze would entrust the completion of the work to Mozart's pupil and constant companion Franz Xavier Süssmayer, instead she asked Josef Eybler. He later gave up the task and the unfinished score fell to Süssmayer in the end anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113197417311674390?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113197417311674390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113197417311674390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113197417311674390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113197417311674390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/mozarts-requiem.html' title='Mozart&apos;s Requiem'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113189647901475097</id><published>2005-11-13T07:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-14T04:28:11.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Khudiram Bose</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/khudirambose.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/khudirambose.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Years ago, I had read in "Young World" of The Hindu newspaper about an Indian  revolutionary named Khudiram Bose who was hanged at the age of 19.  I was somehow suddenly reminded of him today and Googled to find this link.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.freeindia.org/biographies/freedomfighters/khudirambose/index.htm"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.freeindia.org/biographies/freedomfighters/&lt;br /&gt;khudirambose/index.htm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is credited as the Hero who threw the first bomb against the Britishers.  From a very young age, Khudiram Bose had a patriotic fervour, so much so that he gave up his studies and joined revolutionaries who were fighting against the British, for freedom.  In 1908, the revolutionaries planned to kill Magistrate Kingsford, who was very cruel against any uprising against the British and had got many revolutionaries killed.  Khudiram Bose and his friend Profulla Chaki were entrusted with the job of killing Kingsford.  The plan was to throw a bomb at Kingsford's Coach and kill him.  Unfortunately, the bomb killed three other people as Kingsford was not travelling in that coach.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Profulla to prevent himself from getting caught by the British shot himself dead.  Khudiram was arrested after a long chase.  Afterwards a case was filed against Khudiram. There were two lawyers on the Government's side. There was no one at Muzaffarpur, whom Khudiram could call his own. Then a senior advocate Kalidas Bose by name came forward to argue for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pretence of a trial took two months. In the end, the Magistrate read his judgment sentencing Khudiram to death. Even when the judgment was being read, Khudiram did not show even a faint trace of fear.&lt;br /&gt;The judge was surprised that a boy of nineteen years accepted death so calmly. "Do you know what this judgment means?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Khudiram replied with a smile "I know its meaning better than you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The judge asked, "Have you anything to say?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes. I have to explain a few things about making bombs."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The judge was now nervous that Khudiram might make a statement explaining how to make bombs and thus teach everyone in the court. Hence he did not allow the boy to make a statement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Khudiram had not expected justice in a British court. But Kalidas Bose yearned to save Khudiram. He appealed to the Calcutta High Court on behalf of Khudiram. The judge of the High Court also under- stood Khudiram's nature. The fearless eyes and the determined face of the boy filled him, too, with wonder. He confirmed the death sentence given by the lower court. But he postponed the date of the execution from August 6, 1908 to August 19.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you wish to say anything?" the judge asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Khudiram said, "Like the heroic Rajput women, I wish to die for the freedom of my country. The thought of the gallows does not make me unhappy in the least. My only regret is that Kingsford could not be punished for his crimes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even in prison, he was not at all worried. As death approached his face grew brighter. He thought that the sooner he sacrificed his life, the sooner he could be born again and fights for the freedom of his Motherland. This is not mere legend. Khudiram put on two pounds in the jail!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113189647901475097?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113189647901475097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113189647901475097' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113189647901475097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113189647901475097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/khudiram-bose.html' title='Khudiram Bose'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113168482254014109</id><published>2005-11-10T20:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-10T22:04:58.820-08:00</updated><title type='text'>...And I went Mind Shopping</title><content type='html'>Please find a Poem in Tamil, which I wrote over an impromptu thought yesterday night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/manamn1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/manamn1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/manamn2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/manamn2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113168482254014109?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113168482254014109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113168482254014109' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113168482254014109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113168482254014109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/and-i-went-mind-shopping.html' title='...And I went Mind Shopping'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113162487983892481</id><published>2005-11-10T03:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-10T04:27:13.816-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Teddy Bear and the 26th US President</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/teddy.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/teddy.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stuffed toy bear "Teddy Bear" owes its name to the former US President Theodore Roosevelt.  Theodore or "Teddy" as he was fondly called by press and people was very fond of hunting.  During one of his hunting expeditions, he came across a small bear cub, which also happened to be one of his most unsuccessful days at hunting.  But still he refused to shoot the bear, since it did not have a chance of defending itself.  The next day, cartoons appeared in local newspapers of the President and the bear cub.  A toy manufacturer took a cue from this incident, and promptly created a stuffed toy bear and named it "Teddy Bear" which became an instant hit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.americaslibrary.gov/cgi-bin/page.cgi/aa/presidents/roosevelt/bears_1"&gt;http://www.americaslibrary.gov/cgi-bin/page.cgi/aa/presidents/roosevelt/bears_1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next time you see a Teddy Bear, remember it owes its name to the magnanimity of an US President.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113162487983892481?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113162487983892481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113162487983892481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113162487983892481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113162487983892481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/teddy-bear-and-26th-us-president.html' title='Teddy Bear and the 26th US President'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113162379845557854</id><published>2005-11-10T03:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-10T04:20:01.993-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Philatelic Terms</title><content type='html'>I was searching the web for description of the philatelic term MNH which is commonly mentioned in Auction sites like eBay and I came across this site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://alphabetilately.com/glossary.html"&gt;http://alphabetilately.com/glossary.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It gives a good description about philatelic terms with examples(although they are in the US context).  There is an interesting story which is mentioned in this site, regarding the invention of postage paid stamps.  Rowland Hill, the man credited with the establishment of cheap postage and the use of postage stamps in England, was inspired to develop the concept by witnessing a scene in a country village - the postman presented a letter to a village maiden, who glanced at it, then handed it back, saying she could not afford to pay the postage. Hill, in sympathy, paid the postage and handed it to her. Once the postman had left, the girl confided to Hill that she did not want the letter at all, since the message it conveyed was written in a private code on the exterior, and she had read it when the postman first handed it to her. Whether the story is true or not, it illustrates the major weaknesses of the older system, in which rates were very high, so most mail was sent Due, and the recipient was under no obligation to pay it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what does the term MNH mean - it means Mint, Never Hinged.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113162379845557854?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113162379845557854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113162379845557854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113162379845557854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113162379845557854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/philatelic-terms.html' title='Philatelic Terms'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113143424635646749</id><published>2005-11-07T23:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-07T23:20:09.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A hilarious forward from Infy Bulletin Board</title><content type='html'>-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;From: Adheraj Singh &lt;br /&gt;Sent: Tuesday, July 27, 2004 2:12 PM&lt;br /&gt;To: Students05&lt;br /&gt;Subject: Must read:discussion on infy bulletein board........its&lt;br /&gt; just too gud...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi&lt;br /&gt;This mail demonstrates what happens when you leave a bunch of bright engg. with absolutely nothing to do. Also shows how many people in Infy were on bench at that time.&lt;br /&gt;Discussion in Infy’s Bulletin Board. Talk about twisting, well in this case mutating, the subject of conversation . Make sure you read from bottom to top for maximum enjoyment. Please do read the whole of it...&lt;br /&gt;...... READ FROM BOTTOM TO TOP&lt;br /&gt;Cheers&lt;br /&gt;Adheraj&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: Aniljoshi&lt;br /&gt;       Posted At: Friday, September 03, 1999 11:39 AM&lt;br /&gt;       Posted To: General&lt;br /&gt;       Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: German’s ,Jews, Aryans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sit before the monitor staring into the pixels, making faces the whole  day like monkeys. And you claim that you are not in this monkey business?   Beats me!!&lt;br /&gt;ANIL JOSHI&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: AnandV&lt;br /&gt;       Posted At: Friday, September 03, 1999 11:13 AM&lt;br /&gt;       Posted To: General&lt;br /&gt;       Conversation: All Infoscians are dravidians&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: All Infoscians are dravidians&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My theory is first step to identify software engrs.I’m more interested in  showing that software engrs are not monkeys (bcas they are not aryans)  which my house owner believes!!!&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: DHRUVAV&lt;br /&gt;       Posted At: Friday, September 03, 1999 11:09 AM&lt;br /&gt;       Posted To: General&lt;br /&gt;       Conversation: All Infoscians are dravidians&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: teachers and dravidian&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your theory only proves that Software engineers are not&lt;br /&gt;aryans.Therefore&lt;br /&gt;they can be any thing other than aryans and not only dravidians.&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: AnandV&lt;br /&gt;       Posted At: Friday, September 03, 1999 11:04 AM&lt;br /&gt;       Posted To: General&lt;br /&gt;       Conversation: All Infoscians are dravidians&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: All Infoscians are dravidians&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B’cas only teachers (arya’s) are aryans. So all software engr’s&lt;br /&gt;are&lt;br /&gt;dravidians.All Infoscians are software engrs........Hence the proof...&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: raghavendrak&lt;br /&gt;       Posted At: Friday, September 03, 1999 11:00 AM&lt;br /&gt;       Posted To: General&lt;br /&gt;       Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: Aryans- H aryana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me get it clear.Are u suggesting that all people in haryana&lt;br /&gt;are&lt;br /&gt;monkeys?????&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: ashokkm&lt;br /&gt;       Posted At: Friday, September 03, 199910:59 AM&lt;br /&gt;       Posted To: General&lt;br /&gt;       Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: Aryans- H aryana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, Only the native of Haryana are are aryans b’coz U just&lt;br /&gt;remove the ‘H’&lt;br /&gt;in Haryana so it becomes aryana.Agreed or not????&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: raghavendrak&lt;br /&gt;       Posted At: Friday, September 03, 1999 10:54 AM&lt;br /&gt;       Posted To: General&lt;br /&gt; Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: German’s ,Jews, Aryans are Indians&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then even monkeys are aryans!!!!!!(I think they too have 10 fingers).&lt;br /&gt;That’s what ramayan says. So all vanars were also aryans!!!&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: Aniljoshi&lt;br /&gt; Posted At: Friday, September 03, 1999 10:50 AM Posted To: General Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: German’s ,Jews, Aryans are Indians&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How logical!! Now I could easily prove that even Africans are&lt;br /&gt;Aryans. They&lt;br /&gt;have 10 fingers- so they are aryans. They have 10 toes on their&lt;br /&gt;feet - so&lt;br /&gt;they are aryans. Thanks for proving that all are aryans.&lt;br /&gt;ANIL JOSHI&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: Kedardesai&lt;br /&gt; Posted At: Friday, September 03, 1999 10:40 AM Posted To: General Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: Proof:German’s ,Jews, Aryans are Indians&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indians invented the decimal system. Ravan(Jew) had ten heads,&lt;br /&gt;Ram’s&lt;br /&gt;father(aryan + German)had ten chariots (Dash-rath) etc.Thus , the&lt;br /&gt;base is&lt;br /&gt;10. There fore they are all Indians&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: Aniljoshi&lt;br /&gt; Posted At: Friday, September 03, 1999 9:58 AM Posted To: General Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: MAJOR FALLACY- Aryans/Germans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Germans don’t play cricket. So cricketers can’t be germans. QED&lt;br /&gt;ANIL JOSHI&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: Dinni Lingaraj&lt;br /&gt; Posted At: Friday, September 03, 1999 9:56 AM Posted To: General Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: MAJOR FALLACY- Aryans/ Germans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just occured that a better subject would have been “CRICKET”&lt;br /&gt;but this&lt;br /&gt;one stopped ....”Are our cricketers Aryans/Germans ?”&lt;br /&gt;So we got to solve this one !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: Aniljoshi&lt;br /&gt; Posted At: Friday, September 03, 1999 9:55 AM Posted To: General Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: Major fallacy/Aryans &amp; Germans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let the ‘intellectuals’ decide... you will know who you are soon enough.&lt;br /&gt;ANIL JOSHI&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: Yeshwant Dattatreya&lt;br /&gt; Posted At: Friday, September 03, 19999:39 AM Posted To: General Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: MAJOR FALLACY- Aryans/Germans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH BOY!! WHO ARE WE?&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: ashokkm&lt;br /&gt; Posted At: Friday, September 03, 19999:37 AM Posted To: General Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: Major fallacy/Aryans &amp; Germans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to maxmuller, Aryans came from Middle East.&lt;br /&gt;According to Bal Gangadhar Tilak, Antarctica was the home place&lt;br /&gt;of Aryans.&lt;br /&gt;And Swami Dayanand Saraswati says Aryans were originally from&lt;br /&gt;India b’coz&lt;br /&gt;the place “saptsandhav” that is described many times in their&lt;br /&gt;book is&lt;br /&gt;nothing but Doab region between Ganga &amp; Jamuna.&lt;br /&gt;And One theory according Bhagwandas is that Aryans were&lt;br /&gt;originally from&lt;br /&gt;India then they went to middle east and after some time they&lt;br /&gt;returned back&lt;br /&gt;to India.&lt;br /&gt;So there are different theories about the origin of Aryans but&lt;br /&gt;recent&lt;br /&gt;belief is that only India was their native-land.&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: Aniljoshi&lt;br /&gt; Posted At: Friday, September 03, 19999:37 AM Posted To: General Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: MAJOR FALLACY- Aryans/Germans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, at present we are at a point where MK’s son is a Russian,&lt;br /&gt;implying MK&lt;br /&gt;is a Russian. MK is a ardent follower of Ravan who is a German&lt;br /&gt;Jew. Looks&lt;br /&gt;like the german govt running Karnataka(see our previous&lt;br /&gt;discussions for a&lt;br /&gt;proof of it) is conniving with the Russian govt at Tamilnadu (who&lt;br /&gt;support&lt;br /&gt;German) to fight the Italian Govts reps at 10 Janpath road. Some&lt;br /&gt;heavy&lt;br /&gt;international politics we have going on here. Wat’s d’ya say man!!&lt;br /&gt;ANIL JOSHI&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: amajumder&lt;br /&gt; Posted At: Friday, September 03, 1999 9:21 AM Posted To: General Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: MAJOR FALLACY- Aryans/Germans&lt;br /&gt; Importance: High&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Might be Russians too.. that explains why MK’s son is called&lt;br /&gt;STALIN.&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: raghavendrak&lt;br /&gt; Posted At: Friday, September 03, 1999 9:13 AM Posted To: General Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: MAJOR FALLACY- Aryans/Germans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say this to the DMK and they’re gonna kick u!! according to them&lt;br /&gt;ravan was&lt;br /&gt;a dravidian and was attacked by ram as ram was an aryan. So if&lt;br /&gt;ram was a&lt;br /&gt;german, and assuming he was a ‘hitlerite ‘aryan, then ravan must&lt;br /&gt;have been&lt;br /&gt;a jew!!!&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: Aniljoshi&lt;br /&gt; Posted At: Thursday, September 02, 1999 6:57 PM Posted To: General Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: MAJOR FALLACY- Aryans/Germans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, on the contrary it proves that Ravan was a German since it&lt;br /&gt;was he who&lt;br /&gt;owned the Pushpak Viman. The passengers could belong to any country.&lt;br /&gt;ANIL JOSHI&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: vishnoor&lt;br /&gt; Posted At: Thursday, September 02, 1999 5:44 PM Posted To: General Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: major fallacy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After defeating ravana .... Sri Rama flew back in Ravana’s&lt;br /&gt;pushpak vimana &amp;&lt;br /&gt;This is what the Mordern Lufthansa is . It is the modern version&lt;br /&gt;of the&lt;br /&gt;older pushpaka vimana.&lt;br /&gt;The pushpak vimana was “driven” by hansa or swans....&lt;br /&gt;The insignia of Lufthansa is also a swan...  This further proves Sri Rama was a German Hail Rama ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       ----------&lt;br /&gt;       From: khandelwalh&lt;br /&gt; Posted At: Thursday, September 02, 199912:54 PM Posted To: General Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: major fallacy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the argument is wrong.&lt;br /&gt;the conclusion is fallacious&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: vishnoor&lt;br /&gt; Posted At: Thursday, September 02, 1999 4:44 PM Posted To: General Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: Mithla&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rama was an aryan ;&lt;br /&gt;Germans claim to be aryans so Rama was a German Hail Rama....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       ----------&lt;br /&gt;       From: ashokkm&lt;br /&gt; Posted At: Thursday, September 02, 199911:53 AM Posted To: General Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: Mithla&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what about Home minister Advani &amp; Noble Prize winner Economics Dr.&lt;br /&gt;Amartya Sen???&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: Sudha Vedula&lt;br /&gt; Posted At: Thursday, September 02, 19994:02 PM Posted To: General Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: Mithla &amp; Maithili&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God Shiva is also a foreigner because&lt;br /&gt;Mt.Kailash is in China. Buddha was also a foreigner because&lt;br /&gt;Lumbini(?) is&lt;br /&gt;in&lt;br /&gt;Nepal. So was Guru Nanak, because Talwandi is in Pakistan. So was&lt;br /&gt;Porus. So&lt;br /&gt;was Gandhari.....:)&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: Vikas Sharma&lt;br /&gt; Posted At: Thursday, September 02, 1999 10:14 AM Posted To: General Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: Mithla &amp; Maithili&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently one Congress leader, in defense of Sonia, quoted that&lt;br /&gt;Sita was&lt;br /&gt;also a foreigner because Janakpuri is in Nepal.&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: Pranav Chandra&lt;br /&gt; Posted At: Wednesday, September 01,1999 1:10 PM Posted To: General Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: Mithla &amp; Maithili&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maithili is a language which derives it’s name from the region in&lt;br /&gt;Bihar&lt;br /&gt;where it is spoken, the old kingdom of Mithla.&lt;br /&gt;There is a reference to the area even in Ramayana- Janak( Father&lt;br /&gt;of Sita)&lt;br /&gt;was king of Mithla and has been referred to as MithlaNaresh at&lt;br /&gt;many places&lt;br /&gt;in RamCharitraManas - therefore Sita was also called Maithili.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        ----------&lt;br /&gt;       From: Subhashis Roy&lt;br /&gt; Posted At: 1999”N9OE?1”ú 13:03&lt;br /&gt; Posted To: General&lt;br /&gt; Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: what is Maithili ?&lt;br /&gt; Importance: High&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maithili brahmins are known for their gastronome qualities !!!&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: yogesh_pm&lt;br /&gt; Posted At: Wednesday, September 01,1999 12:12 PM Posted To: General Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: re: what is maithili&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maithili is a language spoken in central bihar. It has its own&lt;br /&gt;literature.It has its root in the old kingdom of that area.It is&lt;br /&gt;similar to&lt;br /&gt;Hindi.&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;       From: himanshudas&lt;br /&gt; Posted At: Wednesday, September 01, 1999 9:06 AM Posted To: General Conversation: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;       Subject: What is Maithili?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi!&lt;br /&gt;Who or what is Maithili, in context of Indian literature?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113143424635646749?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113143424635646749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113143424635646749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113143424635646749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113143424635646749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/hilarious-forward-from-infy-bulletin.html' title='A hilarious forward from Infy Bulletin Board'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113143257197555306</id><published>2005-11-07T22:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-07T22:49:31.976-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Communication at its best</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Programmer to Team Leader :&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We can’t do this proposed project.**CAN NOT**. It will involve a major design change and no one in our team knows the design of this legacy system.  And above that, nobody in our company knows the language in which this application has been written. So even if somebody wants to work on it, they can’t. If you ask my personal opinion, the company should never take these type of projects.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Team Leader to Project Manager :&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“This project will involve a design change. Currently, we don’t have any staff who has experience in this type of work. Also, the language is unfamiliar to us, so we will have to arrange for some training if we take this project. In my personal opinion, we are not ready to take on a project of this nature.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Project Manager to 1st Level Manager :&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“This project involves a design change in the system and we don’t have much experience in that area. Also, not many people in our company are appropriately trained for it. In my personal opinion, we might be able to do the project but we would need more time than usual to complete it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1st Level Manager to Senior Level Manager :&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“This project involves design re-engineering. We have some people who have worked in this area and others who know the implementation language. So they can train other people. In my personal opinion we should take this project, but with caution.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Senior Level Manager to CEO :&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“This project will demonstrate to the industry our capabilities in remodelling the design of a complete legacy system. We have all the necessary skills and people to execute this project successfully. Some people have already given in house training in this area to other staff members. In my personal opinion, we should not let this project slip by us under any circumstances.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CEO to Client :&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“This is the type of project in which our company specializes. We have executed many projects of the same nature for many large clients. Trust me when I say that we are the most competent firm in the industry for doing this kind of work. It is my personal opinion that we can execute this project successfully and well within the given time frame.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113143257197555306?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113143257197555306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113143257197555306' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113143257197555306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113143257197555306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/communication-at-its-best.html' title='Communication at its best'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113136964940983983</id><published>2005-11-07T05:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-07T22:46:27.433-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What I get paid for...</title><content type='html'>A rather hilarious forward which I received...a must see for every SAP consultant.  But Iam still trying to learn these tips(Iam a slow learner you see!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Top 23 answers you need to know to be an expert SAP Consultant&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The absolute No. 1 answer: it depends how you configure it.&lt;br /&gt;2. That's not a good translation from German.&lt;br /&gt;3. That's in another module.&lt;br /&gt;4. How did you get there?&lt;br /&gt;5. That's a good question. I’d like to see how that works myself.&lt;br /&gt;6. That will be in next release. I haven’t actually seen it.&lt;br /&gt;7. You wouldn’t want to do that.&lt;br /&gt;8. Let's try that and see what happens.&lt;br /&gt;9. That's a BASIS question.&lt;br /&gt;10. I don't know, the "expert" will be here on Monday. Be sure to ask him/her.&lt;br /&gt;11. That's not the way it's supposed to work?&lt;br /&gt;12. You'll never need to do that, but if you do, call the hotline.&lt;br /&gt;13. Trust me, i know what I’m talking about.&lt;br /&gt;14. An ABAP/4 report can be written to get that information.&lt;br /&gt;15. I'm sorry I have a plane to catch.&lt;br /&gt;16. It's a BUG.&lt;br /&gt;17. Let me call the programmers in Walldorf.&lt;br /&gt;18. OSS is down.&lt;br /&gt;19. It's been fixed in the next release, but you don’t want to upgrade at this stage.&lt;br /&gt;20. Please wait a moment, the system is down.&lt;br /&gt;21. Did you check your user parameters?&lt;br /&gt;22. Must be a GUI problem.&lt;br /&gt;23. And the most important answer if you have no idea at all:&lt;em&gt; That’s outside the scope of what we are doing.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113136964940983983?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113136964940983983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113136964940983983' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113136964940983983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113136964940983983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/what-i-get-paid-for.html' title='What I get paid for...'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113136073545264639</id><published>2005-11-07T02:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-07T04:57:08.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Praise and Inspiration</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/inspire3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/inspire3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my very first comment on my blog from buddy Thirumurugan today.  Needless to say, I was happy and was inspired to write more.  I was just thinking, how good must one be feeling when he/she receives a hearty praise.  I used to pretend that I am above praise and recognition at my workplace and I would keep doing my duty.  It was only a matter of time before I realised that I was fooling myself, since internally I was craving for praise and recognition.  It has been proved through scientific studies that praise inspires human beings and animals alike to perform well and do better.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As always, I googled and stumbled upon this quote from Mary Kay Ash, a successful entrepreneur and founder of the Mary Kay range of Cosmetics and Mary Kay Ash Charitable Foundation - "No matter how busy you are, you must take time to make the other person feel important."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iam reminded of a famous inspirational speech by Winston Churchill at the House of Commons, immediately after taking over as the Prime Minister of England on 13th May,1940 at the height of World War II.  - "I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat.  Victory victory victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read it here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.winstonchurchill.org/i4a/pages/index.cfm?pageid=391"&gt;http://www.winstonchurchill.org/i4a/pages/index.cfm?pageid=391&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, again Courtesy Google, an inspirational quote by Zig Ziglar, which I think one should remember while praising and inspiring others..."If you're sincere, praise is effective. If you're insincere, it's manipulative."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113136073545264639?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113136073545264639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113136073545264639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113136073545264639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113136073545264639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/praise-and-inspiration.html' title='Praise and Inspiration'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113126302991670818</id><published>2005-11-05T23:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-06T20:30:01.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Again...</title><content type='html'>I know its been sometime, since I last posted.  But I think I have valid reasons not to do so.  One, I was engrossed in the festivities at home during the Deepavali season.  Two I have come back to my workplace at Delhi after a three-month stay at home in Chennai(of course...not on a holiday).  Three, Iam busy packing for my journey to Indore where my professional and personal life is getting transferred, w.e.f. 20th Nov 2005.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The three month stay at home was really enjoyable although a bit hectic, considering the time spent in travel from Home to Office.  It was the longest period I stayed at home, ever since I first went to Delhi in 1999 for my MBA.  I got to meet some old friends on 3rd Nov on the occasion of Wedding Reception of buddy and fellow Gemini Berlin.  It was indeed amazing to see my old friends as middle-aged men with some of them showing signs of graying and some sporting a paunch(not to mention my own looks...but its me who is posting...so others will tell about me).  Incidentally, I sported a Greek-God look for the wedding reception(???!!!), which met both admiring and jealous eyes(ha ha ha).  Those who were present on the occasion would know.  I googled for Greek Gods and found this site.  It might be interesting to some.  This dotcom lists all Gods including Aztec, African and Mayan Gods among others. On the lighter side, its now upto you to associate me with your favourite Greek God(both bouquets and brickbats welcome). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.godchecker.com/pantheon/index.php"&gt;http://www.godchecker.com/pantheon/index.php&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I browsed yet another site, which I stumbled upon through Thiru's blog...check it out.  It might soon change the future of navigation on the web.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dontclick.it"&gt;http://www.dontclick.it&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will try and keep updating my blog as often as I can...till then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/bye.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/bye.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113126302991670818?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113126302991670818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113126302991670818' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113126302991670818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113126302991670818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/11/again.html' title='Again...'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113068943687861258</id><published>2005-10-30T08:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-10-30T09:06:27.336-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Same festival...different reasons!</title><content type='html'>Its festive season in India.  'Diwali' or 'Deepavali' - The festival of lights is being celebrated all over the Country on Nov.1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/diwali-festival.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/320/diwali-festival.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While in Southern India, this festival symbolises the triumph of good over evil when, Lord Krishna defeated the evil King Narakasura, the same festival in Northern India is celebrated to mark the victorious homecoming of Lord Rama to Ayodhya from Sri Lanka after defeating Ravana.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incidentally both Rama and Krishna are considered to be incarnations of Lord Vishnu.  According to Hindu mythology, the incarnation of Lord Rama had happened before that of Lord Krishna.  So in South India, while Deepavali would never have been celebrated in Lord Rama's period, in North India its because of him that the festival is being celebrated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came to know about the other reason only when my studies took me to Northern India.  Wishing you all a happy, safe and fun-filled Deepavali.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113068943687861258?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113068943687861258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113068943687861258' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113068943687861258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113068943687861258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/10/same-festivaldifferent-reasons.html' title='Same festival...different reasons!'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113060206519030894</id><published>2005-10-29T08:57:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-30T05:05:04.423-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Terror in Delhi</title><content type='html'>Iam at a loss for words.  Although Iam in Chennai now, I can imagine the magnitude of damage and the casualties that would have occurred at the site of bomb blasts in Paharganj, Sarojini Nagar and Govindpuri,Delhi.  While Paharganj which has tourist accommodation for foreign tourists is in Central Delhi, close to the New Delhi Railway Station, Sarojini Nagar and Govindpuri are places in South Delhi.  Particularly, I know Sarojini Nagar Market quite well.  Its a good bargain shopping place frequented by Middle Class people.  It would have been swarming with hordes of people before Diwali.  Its the regular market which I visit for my shopping needs. I may well have been at that place, if I would have been in Delhi.  Such a heinous crime, even if it stands for the highest principle on Earth, needs to be condemned.  Killing of innocent people for one's motive can be termed nothing but cowardice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113060206519030894?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113060206519030894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113060206519030894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113060206519030894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113060206519030894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/10/terror-in-delhi_113060206519030894.html' title='Terror in Delhi'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113058995578727881</id><published>2005-10-29T05:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-29T05:45:55.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Word Wise - 2</title><content type='html'>Origin of some phrases in English&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Thumb Rule/Rule of Thumb - From an Old English Rule that stated a 'Man cannot beat his wife with anything thicker than his thumb'.  How Chauvinistic?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Chauvinism - From &lt;em&gt;Nicolas Chauvin&lt;/em&gt;, an ardent follower and soldier in Napoleon Bonaparte's army known for his fanatical patriotism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Not upto the mark - Has its origin in the boxing ring.  The phrase comes from a practice followed in boxing, that a boxer cannot land a punch on the other person until he comes up to a mark which would be marked on the ring.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113058995578727881?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113058995578727881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113058995578727881' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113058995578727881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113058995578727881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/10/word-wise-2.html' title='Word Wise - 2'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113058837039614623</id><published>2005-10-29T04:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-29T05:19:30.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;A Friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/all%20friends.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/320/all%20friends.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it true?  I am reminded of a poster we used to have at our home, with the above caption showing two kittens cuddling to each other.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113058837039614623?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113058837039614623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113058837039614623' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113058837039614623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113058837039614623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/10/friend.html' title='A Friend'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113058387744696605</id><published>2005-10-29T04:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-30T09:24:48.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's your Back</title><content type='html'>Do you like a cushy lifestyle -- a job where you sit in a nice air-conditioned office and go home to slumber sweetly on a soft foam mattress?&lt;br /&gt;And exercise... er, what's that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/backache.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/320/backache.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This pretty much mirrors the sedentary life many corporate employees lead today. And it's causing them a pain in the rear, literally. &lt;br /&gt;Backaches have become as common as a cold or a headache, and are responsible for 24 percent the absenteeism cases at work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Why do I have a backache?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i. The common causes for backaches include disorders like spondylosis (a chronic degenerative disease of the intervertebral discs), disc prolapse and congenital abnormalities. &lt;br /&gt;ii. There are, however, at least 20 varieties of diseases which can manifest as backaches. &lt;br /&gt;iii. Apart from these, other factors like injury, trauma, overwork, emotional and mental stress, menstrual tension and prostate conditions can lead to backaches. &lt;br /&gt;iv. Problems with posture or weight can also cause backaches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chin up, back straight &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever the cause, there are measures you can take to ease the pain. There are some general precautions, which those suffering from backache must follow. &lt;br /&gt;i. The best way to prevent common back problems is to stay fit and active. &lt;br /&gt;Staying active will also help control your weight, which is one of the primary causes of back pain. &lt;br /&gt;ii. The easiest way to ease your back pain is by applying heat locally by means of a hot water bottle. Warmth always helps.&lt;br /&gt;iii. While lifting heavy objects, keep your back straight. Poor lifting techniques are a major cause of back strain and injury. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Injuries are less likely if you are fit and have strong back, stomach and leg muscles. Here is the correct lifting technique:&lt;br /&gt;· Make a firm base with your feet, keeping them about shoulder width apart.  &lt;br /&gt;· Lift with your legs, bending your knees instead of your back.  &lt;br /&gt;· Do not kneel or bend your knees too much. &lt;br /&gt;· Keep your chin held in and raised, as this helps keep your back straight. &lt;br /&gt;· Ensure the load is as close to your body as possible.  &lt;br /&gt;· Keep your arms and elbows tucked close to your body.   &lt;br /&gt;· Do not twist your back; change direction by moving your feet.&lt;br /&gt;iv. Avoid wearing high heels. &lt;br /&gt;v. Refrain from sleeping in your chair. &lt;br /&gt;vi. Use a cushion to support the small of your back when seated. &lt;br /&gt;vii. To rest and sleep, lie on a firm, flat surface, if possible.&lt;br /&gt;viii. Swimming in a pool also helps. &lt;br /&gt;ix. Relaxing at regular intervals helps. &lt;br /&gt;x. It is important to manage your weight; check your weight regularly and lose the excess kilos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing is as incapacitating as a severe backache, yet most people take their backs for granted -- until it starts playing up, that is. So begin taking care of your back today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113058387744696605?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113058387744696605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113058387744696605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113058387744696605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113058387744696605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/10/its-your-back.html' title='It&apos;s your Back'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113050280493517363</id><published>2005-10-28T05:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-29T06:41:01.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yesterday...</title><content type='html'>It rained and rained and rained...and it rained.  Morning till night, in Chennai.  I got a day off and thought I would update my blog...Alas! The Electricity Board had different things in mind.  Power supply was cut off by around 11 am yesterday to prevent any casualties due to electrocution.  It was finally restored today after a full 24 hours.  I will try to post some real interesting ones(!) this weekend, which incidentally starts on a Saturday evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meanwhile, its "Week Google" at Thiru's blog.  All you wanted to know about Google is there.  Check it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://thirumurugan.blogspot.com/2005/10/google-trivia.html"&gt;http://thirumurugan.blogspot.com/2005/10/google-trivia.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113050280493517363?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113050280493517363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113050280493517363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/10/yesterday.html' title='Yesterday...'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113031084024099341</id><published>2005-10-26T00:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-30T09:44:12.220-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Seven Rupee Bill</title><content type='html'>This is an article I wrote, which was published in &lt;a href="http://www.sulekha.com "&gt;www.sulekha.com &lt;/a&gt;in December 2004.  Although written four years back, it brings fond memories to my mind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read it here....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was New Year's Day. The rain god had come to Delhi to offer his blessings quite early in the year. It had been raining incessantly from the previous night -- quite an unusual happening for the Capital's winters. This sudden and unwelcome rain had spoilt the mood of many a New Year reveler, who had grand plans to usher in the New Year, as I later learnt. &lt;br /&gt;It was my second winter in Delhi and I was surprised to see the dawn of the New Year without the dense fog that had accompanied it the previous year. I also realized that the New Year air was not so cold and inimical as last year. I faced a lot of hardships during my first winter in Delhi, since I hailed from a coastal city in Southern India where the warm ocean currents of the Bay of Bengal would shield the city against the vagaries of the cold weather. But my stay in Delhi had given me an opportunity to experience four distinct seasons; something which I had read only in my Geography textbooks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most people begin their New Year with a worship of the Almighty. Though not a very religious person, I believed that there existed a supreme power, over the control and imagination of all human beings, which held the world, its humanity and all its diversities together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Let us go and worship Lord Subrahmanya tomorrow,” suggested two of my South Indian friends on New Year's Eve. I readily agreed, since I had to get a number of wishes granted by Him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time we reached the temple, the rain had stopped. We bought a basket of offerings and entered the temple. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then made our offerings to Lord Ganesh, the elephant-faced God and the elder brother of Lord Subrahmanya. Legend has it that, on a tiff with his elder brother over a fruit, Lord Subrahmanya unmindful of his parents' requests went and stood on a hill with only his loincloth. Since then it was a custom to build His temples in hilly areas. Even this temple was built over a small hillock overlooking an arterial road in South Delhi. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made our way up the hillock to the main temple, which housed the sanctum sanctorum. When we reached this place, the abhishekham or holy bath was being performed to the deity and it was covered from public view with curtains. It was at such places of worship that people stood united, shedding all their differences of caste, creed and status. There were cell phone-toting business executives, daily wage labourers, college students, senior citizens and children -- all waiting to get a glimpse of the Almighty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It takes anywhere between thirty to forty minutes for the curtains to be opened for public view after the holy bath and decoration of the deity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Amma,” screamed a child repeatedly, who was with his father and wanted to go to his mother who was standing on the other side of the queue. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Why doesn't the child's father give him a tight slap and make his mouth shut?” I thought, the intolerant devil in me having been awakened. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next moment I realized how hypocritical I was. As a child I had never enjoyed worshipping God and would look for the first opportunity to make my parents leave the temple. I understood that my metamorphosis was complete, from an innocent child unaware of the world's vices to an adult whose mind was full of hatred, deceit and disbelief. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By then the abhishekham was over and the curtain was lifted. “Haro Hara!” roared the crowd in unison in His praise. The devotees jostled against each other to get a glimpse of the God. The priest came and distributed the sacred ash after which the crowd started dispersing slowly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we came out of the temple, we realized that we had missed our breakfast. But then, there was still time left for lunch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Let us go to the nearby South Indian restaurant for lunch,” I suggested. My friend nodded in agreement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was one of those restaurants in South Delhi run by a South Indian association. It served rice and delicacies made of rice. The restaurant was frequented by South Indians all over Delhi and also by North Indians who liked to have their favourite 'masala dosa'. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It will take another half-an-hour to serve the South Indian thali,” said the bearer after checking our order with the kitchen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We are prepared to wait,” we said almost in chorus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This restaurant and many other South Indian restaurants charged a premium for their dishes, but still managed to have a thriving business. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we were waiting for our meal, we were loudly discussing our courses, professors and classmates – a habit we had developed over our one-and-a-half-year stay in Delhi, which was also encouraged by the fact that very few people around us would understand what we were saying. We then started looking at the menu card to order soup, when a voice asked us from near our table, “Where do you all come from?” in our mother tongue. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked up and found an old man standing near our table and looking us in a quizzical manner. The old man was decently dressed although he had two days' stubble left on his unshaven face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We are all from Chennai,” I said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Even I am from South India,” said the old man. “But I have been living in Delhi for the past thirty-five years,” he added. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the old man's diction it was evident that he had learnt Tamil by experience and that it was not his mother tongue. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Can you guess my age?” asked the old man wanting to continue the conversation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From his question and from his looks I realized that he was quite an old man. “Eighty,” I said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man nodded his head in a disapproving manner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Seventy-five,” said my friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No,” said the old man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Seventy,” was the next guess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No! None of you guessed my age right,” said the man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I am over eighty. Eighty-six to be precise,” he said breaking the suspense. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was surprised to see that the man was quite healthy for his age. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“How far is Chennai from here?” asked the old man changing the topic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though I was not really keen to answer him, I did not want to spoil the New Year mood by annoying an elderly person. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Two thousand one hundred kilometres away,” I said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“How much is that in miles?” he asked us again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started doing a quick calculation. Even though we were all engineering graduates, we were never comfortable with this system of measurement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Approximately one thousand five hundred miles,” replied my friend breaking the silence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh! That's quite far,” he said. We were happy that we had given him a satisfactory answer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“How much does a train ticket to Chennai cost?” he asked. I couldn't figure out why he wanted to know all this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Four hundred and fifty rupees,” was the prompt reply from the friend who had till now preferred to stay away from the conversation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Is it the cost of a first class ticket?” he asked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No! It is the second class fare,” replied my friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh my! Expenses have skyrocketed,” remarked the old man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started talking among ourselves ignoring the old man in our vicinity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Do you know, I can speak six languages?” interrupted the old man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Six languages!” I exclaimed. “How did you manage to learn six languages?” I asked, taken by surprise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh! That was when I was a mariner in the Royal Navy in the 40s,” said the old man casually. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly the old man had caught my attention. I was thrilled to be speaking to an octogenarian soldier. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I have taken part in the 1941 war,” said the man referring to World War II. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then our meal arrived and we felt distinctly uncomfortable having a stranger watching us as we ate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Why don't you join us for lunch?” my friends invited the old man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes! Please join us.” I repeated &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No! Thanks,” said the old man. “I have just had coffee and am expecting my son any moment to come and pick me up.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So saying the man turned to the restaurant cashier whose counter was just next to our table. We started attacking our meal, as all of us were quite hungry. Just then the old man returned. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I have served in the Andaman Islands for three and a half years,” he said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I have also travelled to Singapore, Java, Malaya and Penang,” he completed in a single breath without waiting for a reply. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were quite embarrassed to have a stranger, that too an old man standing and watching while we were eating, but none of us had the impudence to ask the old man to go away, lest a soldier's self-respect be hurt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided that if talking to us made the old man happy, then I should not deny his happiness, at least on New Year's Day. I made up my mind to carry the conversation forward even though it was at the cost of my meal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You must have seen quite a few historical figures during your service as a soldier,” I observed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes! Of course,” said the old man, happy that someone was talking to him properly. “Do you know Subhash Chandra Bose?” he asked me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Who doesn't know Netaji?” I asked him back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I have spoken to him on many occasions and he was a good friend of mine,” the man said , his face beaming with pride. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“How much does the meal cost?” asked the old man pointing to the meal that we were having. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Rupees thirty five,” I said, wondering whether the old man wanted us to buy him a meal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Expenses have gone up like anything,” he observed again. “How are the expenses like in your place?” he asked us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh! Chennai is quite cheap when compared to Delhi,” said my friend between mouthfuls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Can I take this cup of curd?” asked the old man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This sudden question shook all of us. We would have been happy to buy him a full meal. But hiding his shock, one of my friends said, “Yes! Please take it,” with a made-up smiling face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man had the cup of curd and asked us to pass on the appalam. My friend obeyed him silently. While munching the fried snack, the old man commented, “In my time, appalams used to be quite big, nowadays they appear quite small.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I have also met Indira in South Block,” said the man, exhibiting his knack for changing the topic of conversation to a totally unrelated subject. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that he was referring to Mrs. Indira Gandhi. But none of us asked him why he went to the South Block to meet Mrs. Gandhi. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“She was a proud and arrogant lady. I didn't like her attitude towards people,” he recollected. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What happened?” I asked him unable to hide my curiosity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I once went to the South Block to meet Indira. She refused to meet me and asked her guards to take me away,” said the old man, happy that he was having an &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;audience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I felt piqued,” he continued. “How dare she play with the respect of a soldier?” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I growled at Indira,” said the old man. “'Madam! Who do you think you are?'” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Indira told me that she was the daughter of the Chief of India,” said the old man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“'Damn it! You might be the daughter of Pandit Nehru, but you have no right to play with my self-respect. I am a World War soldier and I have fought for the country putting my life at stake,'” narrated the old man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admired the old man for his bravery but at the next instant fell into a dilemma whether to believe him or not. I thought that I should try and conclude the conversation with him. Before I could say anything or react, the old man changed the topic again abruptly. “My service in the Royal Navy has taken me to West Asian countries. I have been to Jordan, Iraq and Turkey,” he said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“During World War II, I went to Turkey which was then ruled by King Hassan Hussein,” he started off with his new experience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Were there kings by the names Hassan and Hussein during the Second World War period?' I thought, my suspicion about his stories beginning to deepen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hmm…” I listened patiently, waiting for him to run out of steam. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Our ship, which could go inside water was anchored in Istanbul,” continued the old man with renewed vigour. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“A submarine?” I asked, not able to understand why the man was not referring to the ship as a submarine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes! A submarine,” he agreed with me. “Our ship HMS Caputcha was commanded by an Englishman. We arrived at the port at 6.00 p.m. and our Captain gave us two hours to visit the city, with a warning that we mustn't drink water anywhere in the city as it would smell of kerosene.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was listening to him with the expectation that he would stop soon and that I could continue with my meal, which had already become cold. I just looked towards my friends who had been silent spectators for quite some now. They had almost finished their meal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I set out on foot along with a fellow sailor who was also from South India. Both of us then had an intoxicating drink made of kajoor,” continued the old man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You know what kajoor is?” the old man asked me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes!” I said. “Cashewnuts.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You are right! Cashewnuts” said the old man. I later learnt that kajoor meant dates. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We were then stopped by a Kabuli who seemed to be one of the guards of the City,” the old man apparently still had a lot to tell. “I was wearing a long cloak as the Arabs wear while my friend was in shorts,” he said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had already lost interest in the old man's story, but did not know how to avoid him. “On seeing the Kabuli, who was a well-built man, I bowed my head and wished him 'salam-a-laikum'. My friend who was in shorts did not consider it necessary to wish the Kabuli,” narrated the old man with an air of suspense. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The Kabuli let me go and detained my friend for further questioning,” said the old man slowing down his pace. He leaned forward, picked a glass of water from our table and drank it. He must have felt thirsty as he had been talking for quite a long time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The water here is not good either,” he commented. “In Turkey, people don't drink groundwater. There would be a pile of rocks in each household. They would drink the blood oozing out of these rocks,” he said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that the old man's tale was getting incoherent and that I should not believe him anymore. I was in no mood to ask him what befell his friend in shorts. Luckily for me, the old man seemed to have forgotten about his friend and turned to the cashier again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned towards my friends. Both of them were sporting sheepish smiles on their faces. I wanted to ask them how to get rid of the old man, when suddenly he returned to our table. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What do you people do?” asked the old man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We are all students,” said a friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Students of…B.A. or M.A.?” asked the old man without a pause. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“MBA,” I said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What is MBA?” asked the old man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We are students of Business Administration,” replied my friends, not knowing how to explain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As expected, the old man did not understand what business administration was. “Normally, in offices there would be an LDC, above him there would be a UDC, and above the UDC there would be a Superintendent. Where does MBA come here?” asked the old man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We would be managers after our MBA and we would be above the Superintendent in an office,” I said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh!” exclaimed the old man seemingly having understood what an MBA was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Would you join me for a cigarette after your meal?” asked the old man, taking out a half-empty pack of cigarettes from his pocket. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No! We don't smoke,” said my friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It is good that you don't smoke. And while in Delhi don't go to movies, the tickets are quite expensive…” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“…and don't eat rice in winter as you are doing now. Take rotis…it will keep you warm,” said the old man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Never take to gambling,” said he, gesturing as if shuffling a deck of cards. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It would ruin your life,” he continued with his advice after a short pause. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that the man might be quoting all this from his own experience. He might have been a big gambler himself in his youth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man turned to the cashier again. This time, I watched what he was doing. He took his bill from the cashier and rummaged his trouser pockets for money. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He held up whatever money he had on his palm and turned to us. “Just check whether you have a fifty-paise coin,” he asked us. “My bill is seven rupees and I have six rupees and fifty paise.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all searched our pockets to find the coin for the man. We had lots of money, but none of us had a fifty-paise coin. He looked at our faces in anticipation. We gestured that we didn't have change. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Or you could pay this bill before you leave,” the old man having been emboldened to ask for the favour through the short acquaintance he had with us. It finally dawned upon me, why the old man was narrating all those stories. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes! We would pay the bill,” said my friend taking the bill from the man's hand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ok!” said the old man. He turned to the cashier and said, “My friends would pay the bill.” The cashier looked at us. We nodded in agreement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It's time for me to take leave,” declared the old man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“See you!” I said, still unable to come to terms with what had just happened. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the old man was leaving the restaurant, it started raining. His eyes fell on our wet umbrellas that were kept near the door. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bearer came to me and said, “Sir! The man is asking whether he can take one of your umbrellas.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Tell him that the umbrellas are not ours,” I said hurriedly. I obviously wasn't that altruistic to donate my umbrella on a rainy day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bearer did as he was told and the old man left the place without further ado. As soon as the old man left the restaurant, all of us burst into laughter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called the bearer and asked him, “Is this old man a regular customer to your restaurant?” wanting to know more about the man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No Sir! This is the first time I am seeing him here,” he said. “He looks like a mad man,” he added after a brief pause. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind was sequentially analyzing all the stories told by the old man. I could not come to a conclusion about the old man. In fact I could not digest the fact that I had been talking to a mentally unsound person. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked the cashier why he didn't tell us that the man did not have money to pay. To this the cashier replied, “How can I, Sir? From the way you were talking to him I thought you knew him.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that the cashier was right. We paid our bill and the old man's seven-rupee bill and came out of the restaurant. The man became our subject of discussion for the rest of the day. And whenever one of us would change the topic, someone would start talking about the old man again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been three days since this incident and I cannot help thinking about the old man. More than that, I have not been able to figure out what makes me think about the old man time and again. Was it just the seven-rupee bill that we paid? Was it the price we paid for listening to the made-up stories of a mad man? Was it the cost of upholding the dignity of an octogenarian soldier who had fallen into bad times? Or was it the small price we paid for a big experience that would remain etched in our memories for the rest of our lives? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it is all of these and something more, which I know not and probably, would never know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113031084024099341?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113031084024099341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113031084024099341' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113031084024099341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113031084024099341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/10/seven-rupee-bill.html' title='The Seven Rupee Bill'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113030852942395040</id><published>2005-10-25T22:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-29T04:29:24.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Word Wise - 1</title><content type='html'>I have always been fascinated with knowing the origin of words in the few languages that I know(or understand).  Of particular interest is the origin of words in English.  The study of origin of words is known as Etymology.  I will keep recording the origin of words that I have come across in my subsequent blogs.  To start of let me record a few English words which have its origin in Indian languages.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Mulligatawny = &lt;em&gt;'Milagu'&lt;/em&gt; + &lt;em&gt;'Thanneer'&lt;/em&gt; meaning 'Pepper Water'in Tamil.  So the next time you go to a Star Hotel in India or abroad and sip your favourite Mulligatawny soup out of a Silver spoon, remember that the origin of the word is rather humble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Shampoo has its origin in the Hindi word &lt;em&gt;'Chumpy'&lt;/em&gt; meaning Head Massage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Bandicoot = &lt;em&gt;'Pandi'&lt;/em&gt; + &lt;em&gt;'Kokku'&lt;/em&gt; literally meaning 'Pig Rat'in Telugu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Juggernaut - The literal English meaning of the word is something which destroys ruthlessly anything on its path. The origin of this word is rather interesting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Juggernaut = &lt;em&gt;'Jagan'&lt;/em&gt; + &lt;em&gt;'Natha'&lt;/em&gt; meaning 'Lord of the World' in Sanskrit.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Puri, Orissa, a state of India an idol of the Hindu god Vishnu is dragged in a procession on a huge car. Fanatic devotees are said to have thrown themselves under the wheels of the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus, in English, the meaning takes on a figurative association, referring to a belief or institution to which one is ruthlessly sacrificed or by which one is ruthlessly destroyed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113030852942395040?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113030852942395040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113030852942395040' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113030852942395040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113030852942395040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/10/word-wise-1.html' title='Word Wise - 1'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113017843064075283</id><published>2005-10-24T11:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-26T10:11:05.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On a Honda</title><content type='html'>When Honda entered the US, it primarily aimed at capturing the motorcycle market.  At that time people who rode motorcycles were associated with a rugged outcast image.  To break the myth that all motorcycle riding people are rogues, Honda launched an advertisement campaign with the famous tagline - "You meet the nicest people on a Honda".  This campaign is considered to be one of the most successful ones in the history of motorcycle advertising and endeared Honda to the hearts of millions of people.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check this link out for further details&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.off-road.com/dirtbike/machines/HondaHistory/"&gt;http://www.off-road.com/dirtbike/machines/HondaHistory/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113017843064075283?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113017843064075283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113017843064075283' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113017843064075283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113017843064075283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/10/on-honda.html' title='On a Honda'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-113008966183890945</id><published>2005-10-23T10:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-29T06:42:32.160-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Turkey Biriyani and Sunday Working</title><content type='html'>Yummy...slurp...slurp...slurp! No prizes for guessing what I had for lunch.  I have so fallen for the taste of the 'sexiest' bird in this entire Universe, that if I have a country in my name, then Turkey would undoubtedly be its national bird.  It is however said that Turkeys, which are also Game birds is one of the most stupid aves...so I have a great inference to make...’A turkey is a blonde’...so don't be surprised if you see Turkey jokes floating on the Internet in the near future! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now to you Citizens of my would-be nation...be informed that I had to work on a Sunday to get a meal of Turkey Biriyani.  Even though personally I don't like working on a Sunday...it becomes an unwritten rule, when work spills over from a Saturday.  This may well be considered an occupational hazard of working with a manufacturing company, where all Saturdays are working days. I sometimes envy my friends who work in IT/Software Companies, since their weekend starts on a Friday evening.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All said and done, one has to accept that working on Sundays has its own charms (!!!???).  One, you can leisurely walk into the Office at 11 am in your floaters after a late brunch.  Two, since the Canteen is off, you are authorised to lunch outside the Office and it is expected that you don't pay out of your own pocket (!).  It is this second charm of working on a Sunday, that led me and my colleague from our manufacturing facility at Ajax, Thiruvotriyur to Hotel Pandian in Royapuram aboard a 'Share Auto' in search of that elusive 'Turkey Biriyani' which is available at Pandians' only on Sundays.  Although the distance to be travelled intimidated us, our hearts melted for the birds which had been &lt;em&gt;'Halal'-ed&lt;/em&gt; for us, and we decided to go ahead.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An elderly lady and a middle-aged lady with a baby girl joined us mid way.   The elderly lady was in a chatty mood and even made me forget about the Turkey Biriyani which was waiting for us.  She gave her daughter-in-law (or may be her daughter – mother-in-laws don’t teach their secrets to daughter in laws), the recipe for &lt;em&gt;‘Paruppu Kadaisal’&lt;/em&gt; which is be prepared using Gram, Tomatoes, Asafoetida, Onions and Green Chillies.  I have got the recipe, if anybody needs it, Iam willing to share this &lt;em&gt;Haute Cuisine&lt;/em&gt; for a few thousand USDs.  After taking an impromptu decision to make &lt;em&gt;Murukku, Adhirasam &lt;/em&gt;and &lt;em&gt;Rava Laddu &lt;/em&gt;for Deepavali, the elderly lady reminded the other lady to get the &lt;em&gt;Murukku Achu &lt;/em&gt; for making Murukku from her Sister-in-Law without fail.  In between all these, the elderly lady woke up the little girl and said-  ‘Paapa! See the Beach, See the Ships’.  Paapa was in no mood for beach and ship and she dozed off again.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was my ill-luck which made me miss a winning formula for a natural moisturizer concoction from the lady, consisting of Sothu Kathazhai (&lt;em&gt;Aloe vera&lt;/em&gt;) and Seemai Ponnanganni (&lt;em&gt;Alternanthera sessilis&lt;/em&gt;), which could have given the likes of HLL, P&amp;G and Cavinkare a run for their money.  Perhaps if the Auto ride had continued for some more time, history would have been different.  Now I have to be content with having Turkey Biriyani on an odd working Sunday, and blogging about the same.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-113008966183890945?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/113008966183890945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=113008966183890945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113008966183890945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/113008966183890945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/10/of-turkey-biriyani-and-sunday-working.html' title='Of Turkey Biriyani and Sunday Working'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14131358.post-112999214516205323</id><published>2005-10-22T07:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-26T10:19:46.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I N R I</title><content type='html'>I have wondered many times during my childhood, what I N R I which is found written on the Cross on which Jesus Christ is crucified, means.  I read somewhere that INRI is Latin for &lt;em&gt;Iesus Nazarenus Rexum Iudaeorum&lt;/em&gt; which when translated means 'Jesus of Nazareth, King of Jews'.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Advanced Dictionary by Thorndike and Barnhart has been my long standing companion.  Its an American dictionary and has good illustrations along with the word usage and Etymology (where available).  I came to know that there are various kinds of Crosses too.  The Cross that one normally come across in Churches is the 'Latin'Cross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/1600/Cross1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5348/1269/400/Cross1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;History of the Cross is available at &lt;a href="http://www.crosses.org/history.htm"&gt;http://www.crosses.org/history.htm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 2 Cents after reading that story at Maraththadi.com&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14131358-112999214516205323?l=smohanraj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/feeds/112999214516205323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14131358&amp;postID=112999214516205323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/112999214516205323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14131358/posts/default/112999214516205323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smohanraj.blogspot.com/2005/10/i-n-r-i.html' title='I N R I'/><author><name>கைப்புள்ள</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00867930237145793460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4425/1766/1600/vadivelu.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
