The Most... 10 Words...

Diwali Greetings...

An elderly man in Mumbai calls his son in New York and says, 'I hate to ruin your day son, but I have to tell you that your mother and I are getting a divorce; 35 years of marriage... and that much misery is enough!'

'Dad, what are you talking about?' the son screams.

'We can't stand the sight of each other any longer,' the old man says.

'We're sick of each other, and I'm sick of talking about this, so you call your sister in Hong Kong and tell her!'

Frantic, the son calls his sister, who explodes on the phone.

'Like heck they're getting divorced,' she shouts, 'I'll take care of this.'

She calls Mumbai immediately, and screams at the old man, 'You are not getting divorced. Don't do a single thing until I get there. I'm calling my brother back, and we'll both be there tomorrow. Until then, don't do a thing, DO YOU HEAR??' and she hangs up.

The old man hangs up his phone and turns to his wife. 'Okay', he says, 'It's all set. They're both coming for Deepavali and paying their own airfare!!'

MORAL:

No man / woman is busy in this world all 365 days.
The sky is not going to fall down if you take few days' LEAVE and meet your dear ones.
OFFICE WORK IS NOT EVERYTHING IN LIFE and
MONEY MAKING IS NOT EVERYTHING IN LIFE.

Wishing You All
A Very Happy Diwali!

Happy moments, Praise God.
Difficult moments, Seek God.
Quiet moments, Worship God.
Painful moments, Trust God.
Every moment, Thank God.

THE CAB RIDE... A Gift...

So I walked to the door and knocked. 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase.. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters.. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her. 'I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated'.

'Oh, you're such a good boy', she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, and then asked, 'Could you drive through downtown?'

'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly.

'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. 'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice'.

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have any family left,' she continued. 'The doctor says I don't have very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

'What route would you like me to take?' I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm tired. Let's go now'

We drove in silence to the address she had given me.It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

'How much do I owe you?' she asked, reaching into her purse.

'Nothing,' I said

'You have to make a living,' she answered.

'There are other passengers,' I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said.

'Thank you.'

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift?

What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID, BUT, THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL...

The Value Of Woman

The Value Of Woman

In the beginning of the world when God decided to create woman, He found that He had exhausted all the solid materials in man and did not have more with which to dispose. Before this dilemma and after a deep meditation, He did this:

- He took the roundedness of the Moon,
- The soft curves of the waves,
- The tender adhesion of the climbing plant,
- The trembling movement of the leaves,
- The svelteness of the palm tree,
- The delicate shade of the flowers,
- The loving look of the deer,
- The happiness of the sun and the tear drops of clouds,
- The inconsistency of the wind and the fidelity of the dog,
- The shyness of the turtledove and the vanity of the peacock,
- The softness of the swan feather and the hardness of diamond,
- The sweetness of the dove and the cruelness of the tiger,
- The heat of fire and the coldness of snow.
- He mixed so unequal ingredients, formed the woman and gave her to man.

After a week, man came and said,"Lord, the creature You gave me makes me unhappy, she wants all my attention, never leaves me alone, she chats incessantly, she cries without a reason, it looks like she enjoys making me suffer and I come here to return her because I can no longer live with her!!!"

"Well," answered God and took the woman back.

A week passed, man came back and said, "Lord, I find myself so lonely since I returned the creature You did for me, she sang and played at my side, she looked with tenderness and her sight was as a caress, she laughed and her laughter was music, she was beautiful to see and soft to touch. She took care of me and protected me when I needed it, she gave me sweetness, tenderness, comprehension and love without conditions, please, God, give her back to me, because I cannot live without her!!!"

"I see," said God, "now you value her qualities, that makes me happy very much. Of course, you can have her back, she was created for you, but do not forget to take care of her, love her, respect her and protect her, because if you do not do so, you run the risk of staying without her again... "

ref:http://12inspire.blogspot.com


Dear Friends, let us live in PEACE & Love each other always...

Happy International Day of PEACE, everyone... :)

Thanks for Your Time!

A young man learnt what's most important in life from the guy next door.

It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. College, girls, career, and life itself got in the way. In fact, Jack moved clear across the country in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the rush of his busy life, Jack had little time to think about the past and often no time to spend with his wife and son. He was working on his future, and nothing could stop him.

Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died last night. The funeral is Wednesday." Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days.

"Jack, did you hear me?"

"Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him. I'm sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said.

"Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him he'd ask how you were doing. He'd reminisce about the many days you spent over 'his side of the fence' as he put it," Mom told him.

"I loved that old house he lived in," Jack said.

"You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man's influence in your life," she said.

"He's the one who taught me carpentry," he said. "I wouldn't be in this business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were important... Mom, I'll be there for the funeral," Jack said.

As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown. Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away.

The night before he had to return home, Jack and his Mom stopped by to see the old house next door one more time.

Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension, a leap through space and time the house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture....Jack stopped suddenly.

"What's wrong, Jack?" his Mom asked.

"The box is gone," he said.

"What box?" Mom asked.

"There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was 'the thing I value most,'" Jack said.

It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it, except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it.

"Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said. "I better get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom."

It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox. "Signature required on a package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office within the next three days," the note read.

Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention. "Mr. Harold Belser" it read. Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope. Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside.

"Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett. It's the thing I valued most in my life." A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, as tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box... There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch.

Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover... Inside he found these words engraved:

"Jack Thanks for your time! -Harold Belser."

"The thing he valued most was...my time".

Jack held the watch for a few minutes then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next two days. "Why?" Janet, his assistant asked.

"I need some time to spend with my son," he said.

"Oh, by the way, Janet thanks for your time!"

...

"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away,"

Think about this. You may not realize it, but it's 100% true.

If & when you have the time, Thank people around you for their time! If you do so, you will certainly brighten someone's day and might change their perspective on life... for the better.

To everyone reading this… "Thanks for your time"!

Lucky…

Independence Fever!

PAKISTAN Celebrated Yesterday

(14th Aug)

INDIyeah! Celebrates Today!

(15th Aug)

MALAYSIA will Celebrate its Golden Jubilee

(31st Aug)

Looking forward to the Celebrations!

Eight Lies of a Mother...

I was born in a poor family. Often we had no food to eat. Whenever it was time to eat, mother often gave me her portion of rice. While pouring her rice into my bowl, she would say 'Eat this rice, son. I'm not hungry'.

That was Mother's First Lie.

When I was growing up, the persevering mother gave her spare time for fishing in a river near our house. She hoped that from the fish she got, she could give me nutritious food. She would make fish soup, which raised my appetite. While I was eating the soup, mother would sit beside me and eat bits of fish still on the bones of the fish I ate. I was touched. I would use my chopsticks and give the fish to her. But she would immediately refuse and say 'Eat this fish, son. I don't really like fish.'

That was Mother's Second Lie.

When I was in Junior High School, to fund my studies, mother went to an economic enterprise to bring some used match boxes that would be stuck in. That gave her some money for our needs. During winter, I would wake up from my sleep and watch mother, still awake, supported by a little candlelight, continue sticking used match boxes. I would say, 'Mother, go to sleep, it's late, tomorrow morning you still have to go to work.' Mother would smile and say 'Go to sleep, dear. I'm not tired.'

That was Mother's Third Lie.

During the final term exams, mother asked for leave from her work to accompany me. Under the burning sun, the strong and persevering mother waited for me for several hours. As the bell rang, indicating the final exam had finished, mother immediately welcomed me and poured me a glass of tea that she had prepared before in a cold bottle. The very thick tea was not as thick as my mother's love, which was much thicker. Seeing my mother covered with perspiration, I gave her my glass and told her to drink too. Mother said 'Drink, son. I'm not thirsty!'.

That was Mother's Fourth Lie.

After the death of my father because of illness, my poor mother had to play her role as a single parent. By holding on to her former job, she had to fund our needs alone. Our family's life was more complicated. No day went without suffering. Seeing our family's condition getting worse, a nice uncle who lived near our house came to help us, be it a big problem or a small problem. Seeing our family’s unfortunate life, our other neighbors often advised my mother to marry again. But mother was stubborn, and didn't pay heed to their advice. She said 'I don't need love.'

That was Mother's Fifth Lie.

After I finished my studies and got a job, it was time for my old mother to retire. But she didn't want to; she would go to the marketplace every morning, just to sell some vegetables for fulfilling her needs. I worked in another city, often sent her some money for her needs, but she was stubborn and would not accept the money. She even sent the money back. She would say, 'I have enough money.'

That was Mother's Sixth Lie.

After graduating with a Bachelor’s Degree, I did my Master’s Degree, funded by a company through a scholarship program, from a famous University in America. I finally worked in the company. Within a short time was given quite a high salary. I intended for my mother to enjoy her life in America. But my lovely mother didn't want to bother her son, she said, 'I'm not used to.'

That was Mother's Seventh Lie.

By then mother was quite old, and got flank cancer and had to be hospitalized. I went home to visit my dearest mother. She was weak and in bed after having an operation. She looked so old, staring at me with a deep yearning. She tried to spread her smile on her face; it looked so stiff because of the disease but she held it. It was clear enough to see how the disease had broken my mother's body; she looked so weak and thin. I stared at my mother with flowing tears. It pained me to see my mother in that condition. But mother, with her strength said, 'Don't cry, my dear. I'm not in pain.'

That was Mother's Eighth Lie.

After saying her eighth lie, my dearest mother closed her eyes forever...

Life is not about expecting, hoping and wishing.

It is about doing, being and becoming...

edited... Lucky