Category Archives: Events

Party for the prostitute.

Once It was one of the most extraordinary birthday parties ever held. No it wasn’t in a plush ballroom of a grand hotel. No there weren’t famous celebrities, nor anyone rich or powerful. It was held at 3am in a small seedy cafe in Honolulu, the guest of honour was a prostitute, the fellow guests were prostitutes, and the man who threw it was a minister!

The idea came to minister Tony Campolo very early one morning as he sat in the cafe. He was drinking coffee at the counter, when a group of prostitutes walked in and took up the stools around him. One of the girls, Agnes, lamented the fact that not only was it her birthday tomorrow but that she’d never had a birthday party.

Tony thought it would be a great idea to surprise Agnes with a birthday party. Learning from the cafe owner, a guy named Harry, that the girls came in every morning around 3.30am Tony agreed with him to set the place up for a party. Word somehow got out on the street, so that by 3.15 the next morning the place was packed with prostitutes, the cafe owner and his wife, and Tony.

When Agnes walked in she saw streamers, balloons, Harry holding a birthday cake, and everyone screaming out “Happy Birthday!” Agnes was overwhelmed. The tears poured down her face as the crowd sang Happy Birthday. When Harry called on her to cut the cake she paused. She’d never had a birthday cake and wondered if she could take it home to show her mother. When Agnes left there was a stunned silence. Tony did what a human being should. He shared the joyful celebration with the cafe owner Harry, Harry’s wife , inviting all the employees of the cafe and a roomful of prostitutes in wishing Agnes on her birthday.

It was a birthday party rarely seen in Honolulu – thrown by a minister for a 39 year old prostitute who had never had anyone go out of their way to do something like this and who expected nothing in return. Indeed, so surprising was this turn of events that the cafe owner found it hard to believe there were people who would do this sort of thing, but if there were then that’s the sort of communities he’d be prepared to be a part of .

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Chinese in America

Love This One!

A Chinese moves to USA after 50 years of living in Shanghai.

He bought a home on a small piece of land.

The friendly American neighbor decides to go across and welcome the new guy.

He goes next door
but on his way up the drive-way he sees the Chinese man running around his front yard chasing about 10 hens.

Not wanting to interrupt these ‘Chinese customs’,
he decides to put the welcome on hold for the day.

Next day he decides to try again, but just as he is about to knock on the front door, he looks through the window and sees the Chinese urinate into a glass and then drink it.

Not wanting to interrupt another ‘Chinese custom’,
he decides to put the welcome on hold for yet another day.

A day later he decides to give it one last go, but on his way next door, he sees the China-man leading a bull down the drive way …..pause…… and then put his left ear next to the bull’s butt.

The American bloke can’t handle this, so he goes up to the China-man and says, ‘Jeez Mate, what the hell is it with your Chinese customs? I come over to welcome you to the neighborhood and see you running around the yard after hens.

The next day you are pissing in a glass and drinking it and then today you have your head so close to that bull’s butt, it could just about shit on you.’

The China man is very taken back and says, ‘Sorry sir, you no understand, these no Chinese customs, I doing,
these American Customs.’

‘What do you mean’ says the neighbor, ‘Those aren’t American customs.’

_You will love this_

‘Yes they are, man at travel agent tell me’ replied the China-man.

‘He say to become true American, I must learn to

….. chase chicks,

….. get piss drunk,

and

….. listen to bull-shit!’

😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

Life is wonderful

Life has given me abundant political respect and it has become synonymous with my name .
However as I have noticed , except my work I rarely had any other moments of enjoyment . Only my political status has remained a reality .

Today in this bedridden state I introspect my life …the popularity and wealth and that I thought to be milestones of life ..and the inflated ego…all of it appears to be jaded and meaningless as I stand facing the death .

With each passing second as the death creeps to me stealthily , I see the green lights of lifesaving machines around me , their humming noise makes me realize my proximity to death .
At this critical moment I have understood that there is so much more to life than accumulating wealth and fame …..social service and managing our relationships with others whom we like are few things not to be missed .

I realize that of all the political success that I have earned , i can carry nothing with me .

This bed of sickness is the most exclusive bed as nobody can use it except yourself . You can have servants , drivers , employees to serve and earn for you but none to share your sickness.

All the things that are lost can be found or earned back but what cannot be retrieved is …..
time….
As you run through the rat race of life persuing success one must realise that at some point of time you have to reach the last part of drama in the theatre where end of thev show is visible .

So .. learn to first look after yourself , take care of others,
Learn to spend your money and shower your feelings on people around you .

When a child is born he is weeping and when he dies others are weeping
So friends Lets have all the laughter and fun time in between before we call it a day .

Lonely doctor

WHAT IS THE DARK SIDE OF BEING A DOCTOR IN INDIA

“Loneliness”

Profound loneliness. You can be surrounded by friends, family and colleagues, but in reality, you are quite alone.

If your family does not consist of doctors, they hardly understand the difficulties that you go through. They sympathize with you, yet are unable to grasp the reality of your training and career. Why you must spend days and weeks and even years apart from them. Why a lot of their calls are unanswered by you, while you are busy during rounds or managing patients.

Your old school friends do not really understand how hard the years have been. Why you couldn’t attend all the weddings you were called to. Some just attribute it to arrogance. Some understand. Only a few are driven enough to maintain a relationship where you hardly meet, talk or hang out. Nobody realizes that you hardly have time for yourself, leave alone the closest of friends.

When you do meet your old buddies, from various different fields, you can feel a fence that has formed around you. You smile, and nod your head. Yet, you are some distance away. The conversations seem a bit trivial compared to what goes on everyday in your other life. It is like viewing the rerurn of a tv show you had loved at some point of time.

Your college friends don’t stay with you for too long. Forever branching and specializing fields of medicine mean everyone either ends up in a different college, City or country eventually. You do drop each other a message once in a while, especially if you can remember who it is that you are missing. Conversations do not progress beyond a few words, as both of you are busy beyond compare. Time and distances lighten the strongest of bonds.

Your partner/spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend understands your trials and tribulations with difficulty. A similar profession leads to conflict, ego struggles and comparisons. A different profession causes irritation and indignation at your personal priorities. You keep training and hardly find time for them.

Your patients may love you for your bedside manner and clinical acumen but neither do you form friendships nor expect any support in times of trouble. You keep a distance. Always. Proximity causes lack of objectivity. *And, patients rarely come out in open support of their physician.*

Your colleagues in the same branch view you as competition. So much so that they would be secretly relieved to see you fail. You colleagues in other branches form cordial, friendly relations. You meet once a year for joint conferences and sometimes discuss patients which have been referred. *You can expect a bit of professional support but nothing emotional or personal.*

The hospital you work in couldn’t care less about you. You are indispensable to them, until you are replaced.

Not all this is true for everyone in all scenarios, but, yes, you learn to live with this reality.

Add to this the constant fear of litigation, abuse, violence and disciplinary action.

*It can get very lonely at the top for doctors sometimes. And the higher you go, the further away you are from everyone.*

If this is not part of your story, being a doctor, you really are blessed.

Love is endless

MARRIED COUPLE, this is worth to read.

My husband is an Engineer by profession, I love him for his steady nature, and I love the warm feeling when I lean against his broad shoulders.

Three years of courtship and now, two years into marriage, I would have to admit, that I am getting tired of it. The reasons of me loving him before, has now transformed into the cause of all my restlessness.

I am a sentimental woman and extremely sensitive when it comes to a relationship and my feelings, I yearn for the romantic moments, like a little girl yearning for candy. My husband, is my complete opposite, his lack of sensitivity, and the inability of bringing romantic moments into our marriage has disheartened me about love.

One day, I finally decided to tell him my decision, that I wanted a divorce.

“Why?” he asked, shocked. “I am tired, there are no reasons for everything in the world!” I answered. He kept silent the whole night, seems to be in deep thought with a lighted cigarette at all times. My feeling of disappointment only increased, here was a man who can’t even express his predicament, what else can I hope from him? And finally he asked me:” What can I do to change your mind?”

Somebody said it right, it’s hard to change a person’s personality, and I guess, I have started losing faith in him. Looking deep into his eyes I slowly answered : “Here is the question, if you can answer and convince my heart, I will change my mind, Let’s say, I want a flower located on the face of a mountain cliff, and we both are sure that picking the flower will cause your death, will you do it for me?” He said :” I will give you your answer tomorrow….” My hopes just sank by listening to his response.

I woke up the next morning to find him gone, and saw a piece of paper with his scratchy handwriting, underneath a milk glass, on the dining table near the front door, that goes…. My dear, “I would not pick that flower for you, but please allow me to explain the reasons further..” This first line was already breaking my heart. I continued reading.

“When you use the computer you always mess up the Software programs, and you cry in front of the screen, I have to save my fingers so that I can help to restore the programs. You always leave the house keys behind, thus I have to save my legs to rush home to open the door for you. You love traveling but always lose your way in a new city, I have to save my eyes to show you the way. You always have the cramps whenever your “good friend” approaches every month, I have to save my palms so that I can calm the cramps in your tummy.

You like to stay indoors, and I worry that you will be infected by infantile autism. I have to save my mouth to tell you jokes and stories to cure your boredom. You always stare at the computer, and that will do nothing good for your eyes, I have to save my eyes so that when we grow old, I can help to clip your nails, and help to remove those annoying white hairs. So I can also hold your hand while strolling down the beach, as you enjoy the sunshine and the beautiful sand… and tell you the color of flowers, just like the color of the glow on your young face… Thus, my dear, unless I am sure that there is someone who loves you more than I do… I could not pick that flower yet, and die.. ”

My tears fell on the letter, and blurred the ink of his handwriting… and as I continue on reading… “Now, that you have finished reading my answer, if you are satisfied, please open the front door for I am standing outside bringing your favorite bread and fresh milk… I rush to pull open the door, and saw his anxious face, clutching tightly with his hands, the milk bottle and loaf of bread….

Now I am very sure that no one will ever love me as much as he does, and I have decided to leave the flower alone…

That’s life, and love. When one is surrounded by love, the feeling of excitement fades away, and one tends to ignore the true love that lies in between the peace and dullness.

Love shows up in all forms, even very small and cheeky forms, it has never been a model, it could be the most dull and boring form.. . flowers, and romantic moments are only used and appear on the surface of the relationship. Under all this, the pillar of true love stands… and that’s our life… Love, not words win arguments…

Love now

A SHORT STORY MUST READ
It was their anniversary, and Rupa was waiting for her husband Rohit to show up.
Things had changed since their marriage, the once cute couple couldn’t-live-without-each-other had turned bitter.
Fighting over every little things, both didn’t like the way things had changed.
Rupa was waiting to see if Rohit remembered it was their anniversary!
Just as the door bell rang she ran to find her husband wet and smiling with a bunch of flowers in his hand.
The two started re-living the old days. Making up for fights, then was d plan for champagne, light music And it was raining outside! It was perfect.
But the moment paused when the phone in the bedroom rang.
Rupa went to pick it up and it was a man. “Hello ma’am I’m calling from the police station. Is this Mr Rohit Mehra’s number?”
“Yes it is!”
“I’m sorry ma’am; but there was an accident and a man died.
We got this number from his wallet; we need you to come and identify his body.”
Rupa’s heart sank.!!! She was shocked!
But my husband is here with me?”
“Sorry ma’am, but the incident took place at 2 pm, when he was boarding the train.”
Rupa was about to lose her conscience.
How could this happen?!
She had heard about the soul of the person coming to meet a loved one before it leaves!
She ran into the other room.
He was not there. It was true! He had left her for good!!
Oh God she would have died for another chance to mend every little fight! She rolled on the floor in pain. She lost her chance! Forever!
Suddenly there was a noise from the bathroom, the door opened and Rohit came out and said “Darling, I forgot to tell you my wallet got stolen today”.
LIFE MIGHT NOT GIVE YOU A SECOND CHANCE. SO NEVER WASTE A MOMENT WHEN YOU CAN STILL MAKE UP FOR YOUR WRONGS!!!
Let’s start making amends.
To parents
To siblings
To friends
And many more.
No one is promised tomorrow. Have a wonderful Life with no regrets!

Life is precious

A SHORT STORY MUST READ
It was their anniversary, and Rupa was waiting for her husband Rohit to show up.
Things had changed since their marriage, the once cute couple couldn’t-live-without-each-other had turned bitter.
Fighting over every little things, both didn’t like the way things had changed.
Rupa was waiting to see if Rohit remembered it was their anniversary!
Just as the door bell rang she ran to find her husband wet and smiling with a bunch of flowers in his hand.
The two started re-living the old days. Making up for fights, then was d plan for champagne, light music And it was raining outside! It was perfect.
But the moment paused when the phone in the bedroom rang.
Rupa went to pick it up and it was a man. “Hello ma’am I’m calling from the police station. Is this Mr Rohit Mehra’s number?”
“Yes it is!”
“I’m sorry ma’am; but there was an accident and a man died.
We got this number from his wallet; we need you to come and identify his body.”
Rupa’s heart sank.!!! She was shocked!
But my husband is here with me?”
“Sorry ma’am, but the incident took place at 2 pm, when he was boarding the train.”
Rupa was about to lose her conscience.
How could this happen?!
She had heard about the soul of the person coming to meet a loved one before it leaves!
She ran into the other room.
He was not there. It was true! He had left her for good!!
Oh God she would have died for another chance to mend every little fight! She rolled on the floor in pain. She lost her chance! Forever!
Suddenly there was a noise from the bathroom, the door opened and Rohit came out and said “Darling, I forgot to tell you my wallet got stolen today”.
LIFE MIGHT NOT GIVE YOU A SECOND CHANCE. SO NEVER WASTE A MOMENT WHEN YOU CAN STILL MAKE UP FOR YOUR WRONGS!!!
Let’s start making amends.
To parents
To siblings
To friends
And many more.
No one is promised tomorrow. Have a wonderful Life with no regrets!

Indian poverty

*Living the statements made from Ivory Towers* 😫😫😫

Late last year, two young men decided to live a month of their lives on the income of an average poor Indian. One of them, Tushar, the son of a police officer in Haryana, studied at the University of Pennsylvania and worked for three years as an investment banker in the US and Singapore. The other, Matt, migrated as a teenager to the States with his parents, and studied in MIT. Both decided at different points to return to India, joined the UID Project in Bengaluru, came to share a flat, and became close friends.

The idea suddenly struck them one day. Both had returned to India in the vague hope that they could be of use to their country. But they knew the people of this land so little. Tushar suggested one evening — “Let us try to understand an ‘average Indian’, by living on an ‘average income’.” His friend Matt was immediately captured by the idea. They began a journey which would change them forever.

To begin with, what was the average income of an Indian? They calculated that India’s Mean National Income was Rs. 4,500 a month, or Rs. 150 a day. Globally people spend about a third of their incomes on rent. Excluding rent, they decided to spend Rs. 100 each a day. They realised that this did not make them poor, only average. Seventy-five per cent Indians live on less than this average.

The young men moved into the tiny apartment of their domestic help, much to her bemusement. What changed for them was that they spent a large part of their day planning and organising their food. Eating out was out of the question; even dhabas were too expensive. Milk and yoghurt were expensive and therefore used sparingly, meat was out of bounds, as were processed food like bread. No ghee or butter, only a little refined oil. Both are passionate cooks with healthy appetites. They found soy nuggets a wonder food — affordable and high on proteins, and worked on many recipes. Parle G biscuits again were cheap: 25 paise for 27 calories! They innovated a dessert of fried banana on biscuits. It was their treat each day.

Restricted life

Living on Rs.100 made the circle of their life much smaller. They found that they could not afford to travel by bus more than five km in a day. If they needed to go further, they could only walk. They could afford electricity only five or six hours a day, therefore sparingly used lights and fans. They needed also to charge their mobiles and computers. One Lifebuoy soap cut into two. They passed by shops, gazing at things they could not buy. They could not afford the movies, and hoped they would not fall ill.

However, the bigger challenge remained. Could they live on Rs. 32, the official poverty line, which had become controversial after India’s Planning Commission informed the Supreme Court that this was the poverty line for cities (for villages it was even lower, at Rs. 26 per person per day)?

Harrowing experience

For this, they decided to go to Matt’s ancestral village Karucachal in Kerala, and live on Rs. 26. They ate parboiled rice, a tuber and banana and drank black tea: a balanced diet was impossible on the Rs. 18 a day which their briefly adopted ‘poverty’ permitted. They found themselves thinking of food the whole day. They walked long distances, and saved money even on soap to wash their clothes. They could not afford communication, by mobile and internet. It would have been a disaster if they fell ill. For the two 26-year-olds, the experience of ‘official poverty’ was harrowing.

Yet, when their experiment ended with Deepavali, they wrote to their friends: “Wish we could tell you that we are happy to have our ‘normal’ lives back. Wish we could say that our sumptuous celebratory feast two nights ago was as satisfying as we had been hoping for throughout our experiment. It probably was one of the best meals we’ve ever had, packed with massive amounts of love from our hosts. However, each bite was a sad reminder of the harsh reality that there are 400 million people in our country for whom such a meal will remain a dream for quite some time. That we can move on to our comfortable life, but they remain in the battlefield of survival — a life of tough choices and tall constraints. A life where freedom means little and hunger is plenty…

Plenty of questions

It disturbs us to spend money on most of the things that we now consider excesses. Do we really need that hair product or that branded cologne? Is dining out at expensive restaurants necessary for a happy weekend? At a larger level, do we deserve all the riches we have around us? Is it just plain luck that we were born into circumstances that allowed us to build a life of comfort? What makes the other half any less deserving of many of these material possessions, (which many of us consider essential) or, more importantly, tools for self-development (education) or self-preservation (healthcare)?

We don’t know the answers to these questions. But we do know the feeling of guilt that is with us now. Guilt that is compounded by the love and generosity we got from people who live on the other side, despite their tough lives. We may have treated them as strangers all our lives, but they surely didn’t treat us as that way…”

So what did these two friends learn from their brief encounter with poverty? That hunger can make you angry. That a food law which guarantees adequate nutrition to all is essential. That poverty does not allow you to realise even modest dreams. And above all — in Matt’s words — that empathy is essential for democracy.

Most unfortunately this is the way the culture of independent India has been built: make the majority so scarce for basics that there *no time* for thinking, worrying about the scandles and the loots by the biggies on political thrones.

The meaning of run

do you know the three letter English word that has over 650 meanings? Yes! One word has over 650 meanings. The word is *RUN*

Here is a prose sample of the meanings of run. Hold your breathe for you are about to be *stunned*. 😉

Context is everything. Think about it: When you run a fever, those three letters have a very different meaning than when you run a bath to treat it, or when your bathwater subsequently runs over and drenches your cotton bath runner, forcing you to run out to the store and buy a new one. There, you run up a bill of Rs 850/- because besides a rug and some cold medicine, you also need some thread to fix the run in your stockings and some tissue for your runny nose and a packet of milk because you’ve run through your supply at home, and all this makes dread run through your soul because your value-club membership runs out at the end of the month and you’ve already run over your budget on last week’s grocery run when you ran over a nail in the parking lot and now your car won’t even run properly because whatever idiot runs that parking apparently lets his custodial staff run amok and you know you’re letting your inner monologue run on and on but, God—you’d do things differently if you ran the world. Maybe you should run for office.

By the way, did it ever run through your mind that RUN could runaway in so many directions?

Reached home safely

#Customer #Service #Excellence
We love our customers.
The customer’s are the most important stakeholder in our business growth.

An e.g. quoted by one of my participant.

He was on a family outing to Shirdi and had checked in to a 3 star hotel late night. During check in, he requested to allot him a room where in he can stay with his wife, mother & 2 year old daughter. Entering his room, he found it had a king size bed & a cot. He inquired whether all the rooms are having the same arrangements and the answer was affirmative. Further he was informed that as Shirdi is a religious place, we have visitors with elderly guests and the children accompanying them need them to be around them.

During check out, the receptionist asked the customer that whether they are returning directly to their home or having a stopover. The question was not taken positively by the customer, however he replied that he would go directly.

After a day he gets a call ” Sir, this is the receptionist from xxx hotel and I just want to ask you “HAVE YOU & YOUR FAMILY REACHED HOME SAFELY”

This small yet gigantic gesture left the customer overwhelmed which imprinted a WOW moment in his life.