Teri doli uthi, Meri mayyat uthi, Phool tujh par bhi barse, Phool mujh par bhi barse, FARQ SIRF ITNA SA THA Tu saj gayi, Mujhe sajaya gaya .
Tu bhi ghar ko chali, Main bi ghar ko chala, FARQ SIRF ITNA SA THA Tu uth ke gayi, Mujhe uthaya gaya.
Mehfil wahan bhi thi, Log yahan bhi the, FARQ SIRF ITNA SA THA Unka hasna wahan, Inka rona yahan.
Qazi udhar bhi tha, Molvi idhar bhi tha, Do bol tere pade, Do bol mere pade, Tera nikah pada, Mera janaaza pada, FARQ SIRF ITNA SA THA Tujhe apnaya gaya , Mujhe dafnaya gaya.
As you might know, the head of the company survived that day because his son started kindergarten.
Another fellow was alive because it was his turn to bring donuts.
One woman was late because her alarm clock didn’t go off in time.
One was late because of being stuck on the NJ Turnpike because of an auto accident.
One of them missed his bus.
One spilled food on her clothes and had to take time to change.
One’s car wouldn’t start.
One went back to answer the telephone.
One had a child that dawdled and didn’t get ready as soon as he should have.
One couldn’t get a taxi.
The one that struck me was the man who put on a new pair of shoes that morning, took the various means to get to work but before he ! got there, he developed a blister on his foot. He stopped at a drugstore to buy a Band-Aid. That is why he is alive today.
Now when I am stuck in traffic, miss an elevator, turn back to answer a ringing telephone… all the little things that annoy me. I think to myself, this is exactly where God wants me to be at this very moment..
Next time your morning seems to be going wrong, the children are slow getting dressed, you can’t seem to find the car keys, you hit every traffic light, don’t get mad or frustrated;
God is at work watching over you!
May God continue to bless you with all those annoying little things and may you remember their possible purpose.
A group of alumni, highly established in their careers, got together to visit their old university professor.
Conversation soon turned into complaints about stress in work and life.
Offering his guests coffee, the professor went to the kitchen and returned with a large pot of coffee and an assortment of cups porcelain, plastic, glass, crystal, some plain looking, some expensive, some exquisite - telling them to help themselves to hot coffee.
When all the students had a cup of coffee in hand, the professor said: ‘If you noticed, all the nice looking expensive cups were taken up, leaving behind the plain and cheap ones. While it is but normal for you to want only the best for yourselves, that is the source of your problems and stress. What all of you really wanted was coffee, not the cup, but you consciously went for the best cups and were eyeing each other’s cups.
Now if life is coffee, then the jobs, money and position in society are the cups. They are just tools to hold and contain Life, but the quality of Life doesn’t change. Sometimes, by concentrating only on the cup, we fail to enjoy the coffee in it.’
Before his 2001 inauguration, George Bush was invited to a ‘get acquainted’ tour of the White House. After drinking several glasses of iced tea, he asked President Bill Clinton if he could use the personal Presidential bathroom.
When he entered the toilet, he was astonished to see that President Clinton had a solid gold urinal. That afternoon, George told his wife, Laura, about the urinal.
“Just think,” he said, “when I am President, I could have a gold urinal too, but I wouldn’t do something so self-indulgent! “
Later, when Laura had lunch with Hillary at her tour of the White House, she told Hillary how impressed George had been at his discovery of the fact that, in his private bathroom, the President had a gold urinal.
That evening, when Bill and Hillary were getting ready to retire, Hillary smiled and said to Bill: “I found out who pissed in your saxophone”
I remember my dad teaching me the power of language at a very young age. Not only did my dad understand that specific words affect our mental pictures, but he understood words are a powerful programming factor in lifelong success. One particularly interesting event occurred when I was eight. As a kid, I was always climbing trees, poles, and literally hanging around upside down from the rafters of our lake house. So, it came to no surprise for my dad to find me at the top of a 30-foot tree swinging back and forth. My little eight-year-old brain didn’t realize the tree could break or I could get hurt. I just thought it was fun to be up so high. My older cousin, Tammy, was also in the same tree. She was hanging on the first big limb, about ten feet below me. Tammy’s mother also noticed us at the exact time my dad did. About that time a huge gust of wind came over the tree. I could hear the leaves start to rattle and the tree begin to sway. I remember my dad’s voice over the wind yell, ‘Bart, Hold on tightly.’ So I did. The next thing I know, I heard Tammy screaming at the top of her lungs, laying flat on the ground. She had fallen out of the tree. I scampered down the tree to safety. My dad later told me why she fell and I did not. Apparently, when Tammy’s mother felt the gust of wind, she yelled out, ‘Tammy, don’t fall!’ And Tammy did… fall. My dad then explained to me that the mind has a very difficult time processing a negative image.In fact, people who rely on internal pictures cannot see a negative at all. In order for Tammy to process the command of not falling, her nine-year-old brain had to first imagine falling, then try to tell the brain not to do what it just imagined. Whereas, my eight-year-old brain instantly had an internal image of me hanging on tightly. This concept is especially useful when you are attempting to break a habit or set a goal. You can’t visualize not doing something. The only way to properly visualize not doing something is to actually find a word for what you want to do and visualize that. For example, when I was thirteen years old, I played for my junior high school football team. I tried so hard to be good, but I just couldn’t get it together at that age. I remember hearing the words run through my head as I was running out for a pass, ‘Don’t drop it!’ Naturally, I dropped the ball. My coaches were not skilled enough to teach us proper ’self-talk.’ They just thought some kids could catch and others couldn’t. I’ll never make it pro, but I’m now a pretty good Sunday afternoon football player, because all my internal dialogue is positive and encourages me to win. I wish my dad had coached me playing football instead of just climbing trees. I might have had a longer football career.
Here is a very easy demonstration to teach your kids and your friends the power of a toxic vocabulary. Ask them to hold a pen or pencil. Hand it to them. Now, follow my instructions carefully. Say to them, ‘Okay, try to drop the pencil.’ Observe what they do. Most people release their hands and watch the pencil hit the floor. You respond, ‘You weren’t paying attention. I said TRY to drop the pencil. Now please do it again.’ Most people then pick up the pencil and pretend to be in excruciating pain while their hand tries but fails to drop the pencil. The point is made. If you tell your brain you will ‘give it a try,’ you are actually telling your brain to fail. I have a ‘no try’ rule in my house and with everyone I interact with. Either people will do it or they won’t. Either they will be at the party or they won’t. I’m brutal when people attempt to lie to me by using the word try. Do they think I don’t know they are really telegraphing to the world they have no intention of doing it but they want me to give them brownie points for pretended effort? You will never hear the words ‘I’ll try’ come out of my mouth unless I’m teaching this concept in a seminar. If you ‘try’ and do something, your unconscious mind has permission not to succeed. If I truly can’t make a decision I will tell the truth. ‘Sorry John. I’m not sure if I will be at your party or not. I’ve got an outstanding commitment. If that falls through, I will be here. Otherwise, I will not. Thanks for the invite.’ People respect honesty. So remove the word ‘try’ from your vocabulary. My dad also told me that psychologists claim it takes seventeen positive statements to offset one negative statement. I have no idea if it is true, but the logic holds true. It might take up to seventeen compliments to offset the emotional damage of one harsh criticism. These are concepts that are especially useful when raising children.
Here is a very easy demonstration to teach your kids and your friends the power of a toxic vocabulary. Ask them to hold a pen or pencil. Hand it to them. Now, follow my instructions carefully. Say to them, ‘Okay, try to drop the pencil.’ Observe what they do. Most people release their hands and watch the pencil hit the floor. You respond, ‘You weren’t paying attention. I said TRY to drop the pencil. Now please do it again.’ Most people then pick up the pencil and pretend to be in excruciating pain while their hand tries but fails to drop the pencil. The point is made. If you tell your brain you will ‘give it a try,’ you are actually telling your brain to fail. I have a ‘no try’ rule in my house and with everyone I interact with. Either people will do it or they won’t. Either they will be at the party or they won’t. I’m brutal when people attempt to lie to me by using the word try. Do they think I don’t know they are really telegraphing to the world they have no intention of doing it but they want me to give them brownie points for pretended effort? You will never hear the words ‘I’ll try’ come out of my mouth unless I’m teaching this concept in a seminar. If you ‘try’ and do something, your unconscious mind has permission not to succeed. If I truly can’t make a decision I will tell the truth. ‘Sorry John. I’m not sure if I will be at your party or not. I’ve got an outstanding commitment. If that falls through, I will be here. Otherwise, I will not. Thanks for the invite.’ People respect honesty. So remove the word ‘try’ from your vocabulary. My dad also told me that psychologists claim it takes seventeen positive statements to offset one negative statement. I have no idea if it is true, but the logic holds true. It might take up to seventeen compliments to offset the emotional damage of one harsh criticism. These are concepts that are especially useful when raising children.
Ask yourself how many compliments you give yourself daily versus how many criticisms. Heck, I know you are talking to yourself all day long. We all have internal voices that give us direction. So, are you giving yourself the 17:1 ratio or are you shortchanging yourself with toxic self-talk like, ‘ I’m fat. Nobody will like me. I’ll try this diet. I’m not good enough. I’m so stupid. I’m broke, etc. etc.’ If our parents can set a lifetime of programming with one wrong statement, imagine the kind of programming you are doing on a daily basis with your own internal dialogue. Here is a list of Toxic Vocabulary words. Notice when you or other people use them. Ø But: Negates any words that are stated before it. Ø Try: Presupposes failure. Ø If: Presupposes that you may not. Ø Might: It does nothing definite. It leaves options for your listener. Ø Would Have: Past tense that draws attention to things that didn’t actually happen. Ø Should Have: Past tense that draws attention to things that didn’t actually happen (and implies guilt.) Ø Could Have: Past tense that draws attention to things that didn’t actually happen but the person tries to take credit as if it did happen. Ø Can’t/Don’t: These words force the listener to focus on exactly the opposite of what you want. This is a classic mistake that parents and coaches make without knowing the damage of this linguistic error. Examples: Toxic phrase: ‘Don’t drop the ball!’ Likely result: Drops the ball Better language: ‘Catch the ball!’ Toxic phrase: ‘You shouldn’t watch so much television.’ Likely result: Watches more television. Better language: ‘I read too much television makes people stupid. You might find yourself turning that TV off and picking up one of those books more often!’ Exercise:Take a moment to write down all the phrases you use on a daily basis or any Toxic self-talk that you have noticed yourself using. Write these phrases down so you will begin to catch yourself as they occur and change them.
The hoot of the electric train was audible in the distance. The local MMTS train was announcing its arrival at the Vidynagar station. There was nothing unusual about it and as usual I raised the pace of my walk to see the arrival and departure of the train, which I enjoyed for no reason. Ithought I heard a second hoot in the distance and along with it. A sudden cacophony of sounds and hastened foot steps greeted my attention. A few running feet added to the scenario. Looking back, I found two teenaged girls aged may be 18, running along with two elderly ladies. The folks looked to be from a lower middle class, with a rural back ground. "The train has arrived!Quick! Run!" were being shouted as the ladies shuffled and struggled, one particularly, with a kid in her arms. The elderly were aged about 45 to 50 years, and soon they were on the platform panting and heaving heavily. The train's headlight was shining brilliantly, and the roll of the engine entering the station was visible from the platform.
"Oh! We have not purchased the tickets! How can we enter the train?" inquired one voice among the elderly erupted resulting in a row confused instructions, and a number of shouts. The reason for the confusion was understandable. The train was heaving in, and the halt will not be for more than a minute. The tickets were to be purchased from a counter located on the other platform. One of the teenaged girl suddenly got into the act and started running towards the over bridge, but the chances of her returning in time with the tickets were quite remote. Realising this, the shouts were more vehement, and reprimanding.The train was hardly fifty to seventy five feet away, when I saw one of the teenaged girl, jump from the platform on to the rails to cross over to the other platform amidst warnings and protests. The elderly ladies were aghast at the sight and were panicking and shrieks of admonishes went on the air. Amidst these reverberations, the locomotive entered the platform and came to a halt, blinding the sight of the elderly ladies to the other side with concern. No sooner the train had entered, a long hoot and a short hoot announced its departure and it slowly commenced moving. In the melee, I saw the girl who had been to fetch the tickets, jump out of a coach of the train that had began to move, on to the platform, andfailing to find her kin, she raised her voice to shout "Aunty, .. Aunty! Where are you? Here are the tickets!" I had failed to see the elderly ladies entering the train but as the girl shouted, a head popped out of the door of the coach with her hands extended to collect the tickets. One of the elderly ladies looked affectionately at the girl, her hands patting her cheeks. "My child! May God bless you, I was looking for you at the other side. Go home safely bete!" She was screaming as the train began gathering speed.
And an hour later, as I was about to cross over the same station to reach the other side, I saw another local train ready to enter the platform and witnessed a similar scenario! I saw a few boys in their early twenties racing to catch the train. Dressed impeccably, briefcase in their hands, they entered the platform as the train chugged in! Suddenly, one of the four shouted, "listen! We forgot to purchase the tickets!", to which another shot back and said
"Who the hell will climb the overhead bridge! Forget about! No one will check! Don't be chicken hearted! And we will miss the train in the process" yelled the other one while the others concurred with him and boarded the train as it came to a halt.
I had not lost the importance of the day. The Ram sena (whats his name) leader made it more easier for me to remember, and my sense of rebellion against an established ( so called) norm was there to be proved. In all vigor, I stood before the shop showcasing gifts and cards, jostling with the existing crowd, on the hunt for a suitable bouquet and a telling card that would profess my promise of
undying love for the person who is going to receive it! Hesitantly, I stepped in, escaping a few brushes and bump-ins, sauntering to the area where most of the group stood marauding the rack , for the card of their choice. There were jeans, salwars, shorts, and skirts. All looked like, I was the odd man out, in my neat attire, striped shirt tucked in a blue pant, more formal, and more official. My sense of anger against those who ran rampant at Mangalore, had to be evened out and what more a better way than to give it to my valentine and invite her for a date at a pub. My overwhelming antagonism towards Ram sena made me forget that I did not have a valentine and that I have to find one, at least for the sake avenging Mangalore. (Within me, I realized that it was not Mangalore, but it was me who looked for a valentine and that Mangalore was a ruse).
I joined the rummaging crowd, laid my hands all over the rack, and began searching a suitable card for an unknown valentine. Was she fair or dark, I don’t know! Was she a student or not, I never knew! Did she wear jeans, or salwar, or saree, I debated! Would she like roses or lilys, I assumed roses, since every one likes it! And at last, I selected a card, the one which I thought will suit every assumption of mine, because it was a cartoonised version of the valentines card, with a cupid shooting an arrow nowhere!
Now that the card has been selected, I went in search of a bunch of roses, yellow ones, which was beautiful but with no fragrance. I selected the bunch hoping that my valentine would be in yellow dress, and I enjoyed the momentary dream of all my friends turning gteen at my companion of the day. Now, that the card has been selected, and the bunch of flowers in place, All I needed was a Valentine! My casual enquiry from my friends and my effort to make them introduce me to a feminine friend had proved futile, with naughty repartees and responses in plenty. One such response from a friend of mine, to stand at the gates ofa women’s hostel gave me the hope, and the ideal time, I was told would be between 5:30 and 6:00 P.M.
That’s why, here am I, in front of the Osmania university women’s hostel, neatly dressed, shirt tucked in, shoe neatly polished, the belt buckle shining to the core. I refused to sit in the lawn, fearing damage to the pant that was picked p from the dry cleaners. Waiting for the girl, whom I never knew, I was silently praying that some one would find me, and would gleefully accept the card and the bunch oh of roses in my hand. Boys and girls were moving around, a few in mobikes, girls leaning close over the boys, a few chose the front seat in the maruthi’s and Hyundai’s and a few were walking hand in hand in the lawns. A few mobikes screamed past me, with the girls on the pillion, face fully covered with dupatta, lips caressing the ears, and both the hands entwining the guys tummy, perhaps getting a measure of the quantum of the food the guys were to eat and feed. Time was passing on and no one was ever to be seen to be approaching me. Hopes of finding one were receding, and the roses, as if to confirm my fear, I thought were withering. The package along with the card, I had placed on a stony projection on the road, and I helped myself to stretch my hands and legs. With hopes waning, and unable to decide as to what’s to be done with the package, I was hoping against hope that she will come, that she will find me and that she would stretch her hand gleefully, her eyes oozing out a big thank you. It was dark already, and there was no one in the vicinity. There would be an occasional screech of the college gate letting out a girl, who would either be accosted by a guy on a mobike or a car, and not the so lucky ones would hop in to the auto rikshaw to be driven away to destinations unknown to me. I had positioned myself underneath a lamp post to make myself more visible, expecting at least one girl who would be lonely like me, to seek a friend in me, but alas, hopes crashed, I decided to call it a day, sad, and miserable, while the moon in its romantic splendor sailed over the sky, playing hide and seek, the way my valentine was doing! The song” Aayina koi khabar, mere yaar ki” kept on resounding in my ears as I was about to pick up the package I had brought from its place. W h r o o m —–and s c r e ec h, A scooty peps of the kind “why should boys have all the fun!” screeched to a halt my front.” Hurrah!” I, almost jumped in joy, with the names of all the Gods and Goddesses whispered in a fraction of a second, “Hello!” I beamed, hoping to see her face emanating out of hood she was wearing. “Why is she not removing her helmet?” I asked myself, frustrated, as she stretched her hand to pick up the card and the roses in a hurry with one hand and thrusting a five hundred rupee note with the other hand into my palm and squeezing the fist to fold . I could hear her talking breathlessly “you have appeared like an angel, selling valentine day gift packages in front of ladies hostel. I had no time to pick one and thank god! He sent you here as if to answer my prayer! I don’t know how much it costs, this gift package, what ever it is, you may keep the change!” She raised the throttle and zoomed away from my sight, even before I could utter a word or two. And as I saw her fading figure under the street light, I realized that she was wearing a yellow salwar and kameez.And it was my turn to turn green!
chose to invade me. There’s no storm, the hurricane refuses to lash, Like a Budda in meditation, I struggle, For a few words, Purposeful and meaningful, meandering deep into values, cherished and sought , longed and prescribed, that remains so near, and, yet so far, I contrive to think and imagine, dream of love, and it’s twin jealousy, walk along the sea shore, Look at the peaking moon, and its shadow, for the verse and prose, that refuse to flow, flow, words and thoughts, will you please stream out, what ever happened to you? Urge I to the thoughts that used to rush, at the rustle of a paper. Inspired once I was, In every small act, found meanings in every incident, wrote and struck and corrected the words, that would flow , out of my heart as if from a dam burst, and, that was once upon a time why then not today, why this silence?, why this lackluster effort?. Agitation in the mind, the fountain of thoughts, where are you? The incessant struggle, where do I search for you, Action And the consequential reaction towards the drama of life, as it unfolds, as evasive as a mirage my fountain pen, and its refusal to move, ex-pression to the thoughts, that so profoundly once flowed, where, where did I err, and where did I earn my peace? that has taught me not to react, but only to accept . pray! serenity, why did you ever invade me? My words have failed me, And my pen deeply stuck in the paper, pray, serenity, why did you invade me? -—gbs.
