The Boiling Frog Syndrome

5 06 2013

Out of those many and many thoughts in forwarded wisdom, this story stuck. And may be it did echo to some thought that I read last month. How do you tell a difference between a sacrifice and a compromise? At the cost of sounding trite, let me quote their definitions: Sacrifice is an act of offering something up for a higher purpose, whilst compromise is something that we give up as an act of appeasement for a lower purpose. I just wonder about the many times when we confuse both of them and let a compromise masquerade in the cloak of sacrifice.

Life is all about going with the flow. There are times that demand us to be flexible, responsive and adaptable to change. Be it a new relationship in life where you make those little concessions or be it at work where you get attuned to the change of winds or mandates. How to tell whether to give in or to give up? Read on..

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Human Beings and frogs are the two creatures in nature who have tremendous power to adjust. Put a frog in a vessel of water and start heating the water. As the temperature of the water rises, the frog is able to adjust its body temperature accordingly. The frog keeps on adjusting with increase in temperature. Just when the water is about to reach boiling point, the frog is not able to adjust anymore. At that point the frog decides to jump out. The frog tries to jump but is unable to do so, because it lost all its strength in adjusting with the water temperature. Very soon the frog dies.

What killed the frog? Many of us would say the boiling water.

But the truth is what killed the frog was its own inability to decide when it had to jump out.

We all need to adjust with people and situations, but we need to be sure when we need to adjust and when we need to face. There are times when we need to face the situation and take the appropriate action. If we allow people to exploit us physically, emotionally or financially, they will continue to do so. We have to decide when to jump. Let us jump while we still have the strength.

In order to carry a positive action we must develop here a positive vision.





The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe..

23 05 2008

The TIME’s list has offered me a perfect excuse to read this fantasy novel, which I have been stalling since an year. I think this is the first time when I have read a book after watching its digital recreation.

And that indeed makes a huge difference. Every book unfolds a mystical world for me, and as I live through the magical fantasy it creates, my mind acts on flashes of inspiration to shape the actors based on the characterization and the flow. The movie already supplied the mental images of persona in vivid detail and my experience is that of an explorer venturing on a well-heeled ground. It did put me on an evaluative mode than on an experiential mode. I couldn’t help wishing for a first person narrative ( I have a huge complaint with the narration style), and a detailed characterization of Aslan though I think it would be answered by the rest of the books in the series. Overall, an entertaining book, and in retrospection, I admit that I enjoyed the movie better.

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My favorite piece of conversation from the book:

“That is more than I know,” said the Professor, “and a charge of lying against someone whom you have always found truthful is a very serious thing; a very serious thing indeed.”
“We were afraid it mightn’t even be lying,” said Susan; “we thought there might be something wrong with Lucy.”
“Madness, you mean?” said the Professor quite coolly. “Oh, you can make your minds easy about that. One has only to look at her and talk to her to see that she is not mad.”
“Logic!” said the Professor half to himself. “Why don’t they teach logic at these schools? There are only three possibilities. Either your sister is telling lies, or she is mad, or she is telling the truth. You know she doesn’t tell lies and it is obvious that she is not mad For the moment then and unless any further evidence turns up, we must assume that she is telling the truth.”

“Well, sir, if things are real, they’re there all the time.”
“Are they?” said the Professor; and Peter did’nt know quite what to say.

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Some Story Telling Session…

25 03 2008

This moment is filled with sheer nostalgia. A chip off the memories at the IMDR personality development classes.. I do wonder at times about the things that haven’t changed, looking back at those days when we did that four princes story telling session and impersonated one of the prince’s exile story with utter glee. What I loved was the beginning of the story, the entire group gathering and the joy of offering the non-material gifts.

That was some day when that sane wise man started his session like this: “Once upon a time, long long ago, just about yesterday, far far away from here, just around the corner was a kingdom a kingdom not too large, not too small and like all kingdoms its boundaries extended to East, West, North and South to the extent of the known world…” And then we went through a racy ride over a kingdom blessed with four princes, each with his own unique skills and two unique gifts from his fairy grand mother, all set to reign the world.

The two gifts for each prince were intriguing too. While one gift fetched success in public, the other gift acted as a mirror in the closed quarters. First Prince got the Book of Knowledge and an Ever Smiling Doll, the Second Prince was gifted the Magic Sword and the Roaring Mouse, while the third prince is left with the Magic Box of Potions and the tear bag and the Fourth Prince had the Magic Cap and the Magic Wand. Faced with a challenge to live a two year exile period out of the comfort zone of his kingdom, each prince marches in the designated direction at a certain age to make his life. There the story was left open and the participants made their own journey impersonating the prince of their choice.

Little did I know at that time that my instinctive choices haven’t changed even after three long years. I am still that rolling stone, the prince of laughter, gifted with magic cap and magic wand.. What felt like fun sounded frivolous at times, yet I guess the beauty of that experience lies in its inherent contradictions. It engaged our creativity while making us introspect and reflect on our choices. It held our interest and spread a lot of cheer while making us ponder over the deeper implications. We all need mirrors at times, to see how we have evolved and how we have changed over the sands of time.





Ragi Gudda Temple..

3 03 2008

This temple is one of my favorites in Bangalore. Its truly a no brainer to guess why though. A little temple on hill surrounded by loads of Gods, Ample space, limited crowd, well planned design and peaceful environment. What more can I ask for? I loved the beauty of those bougainvillea arcades that envelop the devotees on their way to God. For those fashioning a little trek, a small route is paved on the rocky terrain to climb atop. But that wouldn’t allow you a direct entry to the temple, unless the door is open or the Pujari takes mercy on your knocking, of course. 🙂

Ragi Gudda Temple

There is this little anecdote thats oft told in my household. For an innocuous inquiry about – “Grandma why are all these temples located on hills? Why do Gods make us climb so much? – earned me an answer – “Earlier all the temples were located on same plane little one. But as mankind grew, they sinned a lot and the land in which they lived has fallen down due to the burden of their sins. Hence we feel Gods are located on hills.” That sounded a reason good enough at those carefree times.

Sometimes, the little effort that we put into and the huge bang that we make about visiting temples can make me dazed. For those who care to follow, I can recount at least 20 instructions on the top of my head. Take Tirupati for instance. Many families that I know have this temple in their travel agenda, even when its not easy to climb up the seven hills on foot route. Guess pain is gain at those times. Guess the effort that we expend nurtures peace in a way. Guess these are those little practices in our religion that teaches restraint in a way.





Blind Men And The Elephant..

9 02 2008

This is a story from my Granny’s collections. One of those fond memories of childhood and yet such a lifetime lesson to practice. A little googling helped me locate this story and saved me from recreating its fondness from memory. For the trading with memories involves dealing with interpretations and perceptions which may not let you remain true to the original. 🙂

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Once upon a time there were six blind men. They lived in a town in India. They thought they were very clever. One day an elephant came into the town. The blind men did not know what an elephant looked like but they could smell it and they could hear it. ‘What is this animal like?’ they said. Each man touched a different part of the elephant.

The first man touched the elephant’s body. It felt hard, big and wide. ‘An elephant is like a wall’ he said. The second man touched one of the elephant’s tusks. It felt smooth and hard and sharp. ‘An elephant is like a spear’ he said.

The third man touched the elephant’s trunk. It felt long and thin and wiggly. ‘An elephant is like a snake’ he said. The fourth man touched on of the legs. It felt thick and rough and hard and round. ‘An elephant is like a tree’ he said.

The fifth man touched one of the elephant’s ears. It felt thin and it moved. ‘An elephant is like a fan’ he said.

The sixth man touched the elephant’s tail. It felt long and thin and strong. ‘An elephant is like a rope’ he said.

The men argued. It’s like a wall! No, it isn’t! It’s like a spear! No it isn’t! It’s like a snake! They did not agree. The king had been watching and listening to the men. ‘You are not very clever. You only touched part of the elephant. You did not feel the whole animal. An elephant is not like a wall or a spear or a snake, or a tree or a fan of a rope’.

The men left the town still arguing. A little girl heard them and said ‘Each of you is right but you are all wrong … but I know what you are talking about.’

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A nice illustration of this story in poem is available here. This story leaves me with a lingering echo that sounds like this.
“O how they cling and wrangle, some who claim
For preacher and monk the honored name!
For, quarreling, each to his view they cling.
Such folk see only one side of a thing”

Well, thats the thought that stayed with me since carefree days.





Devil’s Most Used Instrument…

29 01 2008

This little story is most profound as it sinks in the thought. I couldn’t help sharing it!

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It was advertised that the devil was going to put his tools up for sale. On the date of the sale, the tools were placed for public inspection; each tool being marked with its sale price. They were a treacherous lot of implements… Hatred, Envy, Jealousy, Deceit, Lying, Pride, and so on.

Laid apart from the rest was a harmless looking tool, that appeared to have been heavily used, and was priced very high.

“What is the name of this tool?” asked one of the purchasers, pointing to it.

“That is Discouragement,” replied the devil.

“Why have you priced it so high?”

“Because it is more useful to me than all the others. I can pry open and get inside people’s hearts with that when I cannot get near them with my other tools. Once I get inside, I can make them do what I choose. It is badly worn because I use it on almost everyone, since very few people know that it belongs to me.”

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There are some stories which require a moment to read but a life time to comprehend. And discouragement is like a slow poison. Who says language doesn’t matter? One word can lit someone’s face and one moment can change somebody’s life. We love, live, cry, smile, share and care through it. So be careful while using it. Hope you would remember this little story next time when you are tempted to indulge in destructive feedback.





A Touch Of Madness…

19 12 2007

Whenever I think of Madness, a wickedly grinning cheshire cat flashes in my mind and somehow my mind fondly muses on this conversation from my favorite book..

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Alice went on. ‘Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?’
‘That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,’ said the Cat.
‘I don’t much care where–‘ said Alice.
‘Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,’ said the Cat.
‘–so long as I get somewhere,’ Alice added as an explanation.
‘Oh, you’re sure to do that,’ said the Cat, ‘if you only walk long enough.’

Alice felt that this could not be denied, so she tried another question. ‘What sort of people live about here?’
‘In that direction,’ the Cat said, waving its right paw round, ‘lives a Hatter: and in that direction,’ waving the other paw, ‘lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they’re both mad.’

‘But I don’t want to go among mad people,’ Alice remarked.
‘Oh, you can’t help that,’ said the Cat: ‘we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.’
‘How do you know I’m mad?’ said Alice.
‘You must be,’ said the Cat, ‘or you wouldn’t have come here.’
Alice didn’t think that proved it at all; however, she went on ‘And how do you know that you’re mad?’
‘To begin with,’ said the Cat, ‘a dog’s not mad. You grant that?’
‘I suppose so,’ said Alice.
‘Well, then,’ the Cat went on, ‘you see, a dog growls when it’s angry, and wags its tail when it’s pleased. Now I growl when I’m pleased, and wag my tail when I’m angry. Therefore I’m mad.’

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Every time I go through Alice in Wonderland and the Cheshire Cat’s conversations and its famous grin, I discover a new meaning. Yet, thats not the point here. Let’s stick to madness! 🙂

My little role model in celebrating madness is the Cheshire cat of ‘The Alice In Wonderland’ fame. Living through the chaos in this mad world which seems to operate in no defined sense of logic, I honestly believe that a glint of madness is essential to survive through the day. Everyone has their own little crazy world where we celebrate insanity in a splendid fashion. Our own artificial paradises where we play the little escapist helps us address the everyday madness that we encounter in every form. Guess we all fancy our own private interpretations of madness, don’t we? Yet, we thrive on it, come terms with it and indulge in our share of it! 😉

Next time, when the everyday frenzy gripes your sanity, try this. Do a little jig, be stupid at least once a day, perk up the spirits in your own little odd way, shoo the tension in a little corner and celebrate life in your own private madness just like that wicked cat with a huge grin. As they say, when you have to walk in rain, you might as well dance.





On Possessiveness and Love…

7 12 2007

There is once a popular song in Hindi that sings that ‘Life Is A Song Of Love’.. Always made me pause and reflect. In our attempts to discover and reinvent life through the journey of love, guess many have been tugged by this emotion of possessiveness sometime. I hear many times about this rolling out as a candid confession in conversations. Guess everyone might have heard of this perspective, but when I came across it in my mail box, I couldn’t resist posting it. Coz, there are certain lessons and learnings in life, that demand conscious effort from our side to put them to practice.

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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.”

This was how I saw it: As long as you keep your hand gently 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 posses it, it will spill through the first cracks it finds. This is the greatest mistake that people do when they meet love. They try to posses, own, demand, and expect… and just like the water spilling out of your hand, love will retrieve from you. For love is meant to be free, you cannot change its nature. If there are people you love, allow them to be free beings.

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Sounds such a simple perspective, but how difficult to internalize! I have seen relationships collapse due to a possessiveness overdrive and power struggle. Well, we can never reason out our actions in relationships, but awareness always helps in defining our perspective. Love like joy and cheer is meant to be shared and isn’t limited like a piece of cake. Still, we feel as if we own the person and haggle for our share, how strange!





I Wish You Enough..

5 11 2007

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Recently I overheard a mother and daughter in their last moments together at the airport. They had announced the departure. Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the mother said, “I love you, and I wish you enough.”

The daughter replied, “Mom, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Mom.” They kissed and the daughter left. The mother walked over to the window where I was seated. Standing there, I could see she wanted & needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on her privacy, but she welcomed me in by asking, “Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?”

“Yes, I have,” I replied. “Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever good-bye?”.
“I am old, and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is – the next trip back will be for my funeral,” she said.
“When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say, ‘I wish you enough.’ May I ask what that means?”

She began to smile. “That’s a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone.” She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail, and she smiled even more.”When we said, ‘I wish you enough,’ we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough goo d things to sustain them.” Then turning toward me, she shared the following as if she were reciting it from memory.

I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how gray the day may appear.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.
I wish you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.

She then began to cry and walked away.

They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them; but then an entire life to forget them. TAKE TIME TO LIVE…..

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A Story that I love to Share.. To everyone who paused by, I Wish You Enough.





Dream Merchant Strikes..

15 10 2007

Though a piece of fiction, this is a beautiful composition so I thought I would share it. I fell in love with it when I read it over a mail. I am not sure of the author to acknowledge (as I guess both these poems are written by different people and are connected by someone), yet kudos to him as he laces words beautifully to create a fairytale. Now don’t you dare wonder whats with me and horse riding metal guys! I just happen to like that idea! 🙂

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She dreams of her knight and longs for companionship. As her thought shapes into an expression, the words sway like this.

“In this world full of hurt and pain,
I need someone who would help me through the rain.
To comfort me when Im sad,
Doing everything just to make me glad.

In this world I need a Brave Knight,
Who would never give up any fight.
A knight who would dry away my tears,
Telling me to overcome my fears.

A knight who loves me for who I am inside,
With him there’s nothing more I need to hide.
A person who will still be standing strong,
Even though everything has gone wrong.

I need someone who is willing to give me more,
Someone I can call my Knight In Shining Armor”

And the Knight muses on and fills all his love to pen his promises which flow this way..

“Love is a many splendored thing, they say,
And I believed it when you looked my way,
Out of the blue, things seemed to happen
By chance or destiny, is the question.

Living my life so long, without knowing your existence,
Then came a day we felt each others presence,
Guess what’s meant to be will always find a way,
Love creeps into hearts and decides to stay.

A love so exquisite, yet so intricate,
In a world of only “you and I”
A love we can’t even demonstrate,
A secret we have to keep for life.

I love you, honey, and it’s from the bottom of my heart,
I would wait for the day when you say “I Love you” back,
You make me fly without wings,
You make my heart wants to sing.

Every moment I spent with you,
Is every one of my dreams coming true,
More than words, I want to show you how I feel,
Someday, some place, sometime, I will.

Love is a journey for two,
Step by step, me and you,
The future we can’t see,
Let love lead the way for you and me.”

Their dreams connected and as the fate choose to unite them under the blessings of heaven. And then they lived happily ever after.

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Note: Now you may wonder why its titled Dream Merchant? The story rings so good and runs like a dream, yet I want to be connected with the reality that not all verses are true and not all stories end up with happy endings. There are times when life plays the dream merchant, be braced for that. There is a thin line between truth and fantasy. How much ever we wish we want our wildest dream to be true, life will have different plans.. The best way to brave it is to greet the situation with a big smile and savor moment by moment with no expectations. Tough call indeed! I wish u all the best!





Embracing Imperfection..

27 09 2007

These days I seem to be on a forwarding spree. Yet, I found it quite relevant to ponder upon. Some relationships are for keeps and they indeed effect us in many ways. I see many people going through some crisis or another on that front and unfortunately there is no degree to help you around that corner. Some balance, acceptance, semblance, accommodation and sensibility is demanded from us in such situations. Yet, often thats what we miss in an emotional situation. I like the idea of ‘accepting imperfections’ that resonates in this article by Deb Graham. Do enjoy.

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THE SECRET TO A LASTING MARRIAGE: EMBRACE IMPERFECTION

By Deb Graham

When I was a little girl, my mom liked to make breakfast food for dinner every now and then. And I remember one night in particular when she had made breakfast after a long, hard day at work.

On that evening so long ago, my mom placed a plate of eggs, sausage, and extremely burned toast in front of my dad. I remember waiting to see if anyone noticed! Yet all my dad did was reach for his toast, smile at my mom, and ask me how my day was at school.

I don’t remember what I told him that night, but I do remember watching him smear butter and jelly on that toast and eat every bite! When I got up from the table that evening, I remember hearing my mom apologize to my dad for burning the toast. And I’ll never forget what he said: “Baby, I love burned toast.”

Later that night, I went to kiss Daddy good night and I asked him if he really liked his toast burned. He wrapped me in his arms and said, “Debbie, your momma put in a hard day at work today and she’s real tired. And besides, ­a little burnt toast never hurt anyone!”

In bed that night, I thought about that scene at dinner and the kindness my daddy showed my mom. To this day, it’s a cherished memory from my childhood that I’ll never forget. And it’s one that came to mind just recently when Jack and I sat down to eat dinner.

I had arrived home late… as usual… and decided we would have breakfast food for dinner. Some things never change, I suppose!

To my amazement, I found the ingredients I needed, and quickly began to cook eggs, turkey sausage, and buttered toast. Thinking I had things under control, I glanced through the mail for the day. It was only a few minutes later that I remembered that I had forgotten to take the toast out of the oven!

Now, had it been any other day — and had we had more than two pieces of bread in the entire house — I would have started all over. But it had been one of those days; and I had just used up the last two pieces of bread. So burnt toast it was!

As I set the plate down in front of Jack, I waited for a comment about the toast. But all I got was a “Thank you!” I watched as he ate bite by bite, all the time waiting for some comment about the toast. But instead, all Jack said was, “Babe, this is great. Thanks for cooking tonight. I know you had a hard day.”

As I took a bite of my charred toast that night, I thought about my mom and dad… how burnt toast hadn’t been a deal-breaker for them. And I quietly thanked God for giving me a marriage where burnt toast wasn’t a deal-breaker either!

You know, life is full of imperfect things and imperfect people. I’m not the best housekeeper or cook. And you might be surprised to find out that Jack isn’t the perfect husband! He likes to play his music too loud, he will always find a way to avoid yard work, and he watches far too many sports. Believe it or not, watching “Golf Academy” is not my idea of a great night at home!

But somehow in the past 37 years Jack and I have learned to accept the imperfections in each other. Over time, we have stopped trying to make each other in our own mold and have learned to celebrate our differences. You might say that we’ve learned to love each other for who we really are!

For example, I like to take my time, I’m a perfectionist, and I’m even-tempered. I tend to work too much and sleep too little. Jack, on the other hand, is disciplined, studious, an early riser, and is a marketer’s dream consumer. I count pennies and Jack could care less! Where he is strong, I am weak, and vice versa.

And while you might say that Jack and I are opposites, we’re also very much alike. I can look at him and tell you what he’s thinking. I can predict his actions before he finalizes his plans. On the other hand, he knows whether I’m troubled or not the moment I enter a room.

We share the same goals. We love the same things. And we are still best friends. We’ve traveled through many valleys and enjoyed many mountaintops. And yet, at the same time, Jack and I must work every minute of every day to make this thing called “marriage” work!

What I’ve learned over the years is that learning to accept each other’s faults – and choosing to celebrate each other’s differences – is the one of the most important keys to creating a healthy, growing, and lasting marriage relationship.

And that’s my prayer for you today. That you will learn to take the good, the bad, and the ugly parts of your married life and lay them at the feet of GOD. Because in the end, He’s the only One who will be able to give you a marriage where burnt toast isn’t a deal-breaker!

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Put The Glass Down..

26 09 2007

Here is a beautiful story that offers a sensible perspective and profound advice on how to deal with stress, problems and challenges of everyday life. Do Enjoy..

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Professor began his class by holding up a glass with some water in it.
He held it up for all to see & asked the students,’ How much do you think this glass weighs?’
’50gms!’ …. ‘100gms!’ …..’125gms’ …..the students answered.
‘I really don’t know unless I weigh it,’ said the professor, ‘but, my question is: What would happen if I held it up like this for a few minutes?’

‘Nothing’ the students said.
‘Ok what would happen if I held it up like this for an hour?’ the professor asked.
‘Your arm would begin to ache’ said one of the students.
‘You’re right, now what would happen if I held it for a day?’
‘Your arm could go numb, you might have severe muscle stress & paralysis & have to go to hospital for sure!’ ventured another student & all the students laughed.

‘Very good. But during all this, did the weight of the glass change?’ asked the professor.
‘No’
‘Then what caused the arm ache & the muscle stress?’ The students were puzzled.
‘Put the glass down!’ said one of the students.

‘Exactly!’ said the professor.’ Life’s problems are something like this.

Hold it for a few minutes in your head & they seem OK. Think of them for a long time & they begin to ache. Hold it even longer & they begin to paralyze you. You will not be able to do anything. It’s important to think of the challenges (problems) in your life, but EVEN MORE IMPORTANT to ‘put them down’ at the end of every day before you go to sleep. That way, you are not stressed, you wake up every day fresh & strong & can handle any issue, any challenge that comes your way!’





Two Choices..

25 09 2007

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What would you do? You make the choice! Don’t look for a punch line; There isn’t one! Read it anyway. My question to you is: Would you have made the same choice?

At a fund raising dinner for a school that serves learning disabled children,the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question:

“When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?”

The audience was stilled by the query.

The father continued. “I believe,that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes, in the way other people treat that child.”Then he told the following story:

Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked,”Do you think they’ll let me play?” Shay’s father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.

Shay’s father approached one of the boys on the field and asked if Shay could play, not expecting much. The boy looked around for guidance and said, “We’re losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we’ll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.”

Shay struggled over to the team’s bench put on a team shirt with a broad smile and his Father had a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father’s joy at his son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay’s team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay’s team scored agai n. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.

At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible ’cause Shay didn’t even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.

However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing the other team putting winning aside for this moment in Shay’s life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least be able to make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.

The game would now be over, but the pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.

Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the head of the first baseman, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, “Shay, run to first! Run to first!” Never in his life had Shay ever ran that far but made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.

Everyone yelled, “Run to second, run to second!”
Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to second base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball, the smallest guy on their team, who had a chance to be the hero for his team for the first time. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher’s intentions and he too intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-base man’s head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.

All were screaming, “Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay”

Shay reached third base, the opposing shortstop ran to help him and turned him in the direction of third base, and shouted, “Run to third! Shay, run to third” As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams and those watching were on their feet were screaming, “Shay, run home! Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the “grand slam” and won the game for his team.

That day, said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world.

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Am quite touched by this story.





Sharing A Little Fantasy..

21 09 2007

Someone wrote this lovely story on creation of Rainbow.. 🙂 Couldn’t resist sharing this, as its been a piece of my fantasy since childhood.

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Once upon a time the colors of the world started to quarrel. All claimed that they were the best. The most important. The most useful. The favorite.

Green said:

“Clearly I am the most important. I am the sign of life and of hope. I was chosen for grass, trees and leaves. Without me, all animals would die. Look over the countryside and you will see that I am in the majority.”

Blue interrupted:

“You only think about the earth, but consider the sky and the sea. It is the water that is the basis of life and drawn up by the clouds from the deep sea. The sky gives space and peace and serenity. Without my peace, you would all be nothing.”

Yellow chuckled:

“You are all so serious. I bring laughter, gaiety, and warmth into the world. The sun is yellow, the moon is yellow, the stars are yellow. Every time you look at a sunflower, the whole world starts to smile. Without me there would be no fun.”

Orange started next to blow her trumpet:

“I am the color of health and strength. I may be scarce, but I am precious for I serve the needs of human life. I carry the most important vitamins. Think of carrots, pumpkins, oranges, mangoes, and papayas. I don’t hang around all the time, but when I fill the sky at sunrise or sunset, my beauty is so striking that no one gives another thought to any of you.”

Red could stand it no longer he shouted out:

“I am the ruler of all of you. I am blood – life’s blood! I am the color of danger and of bravery. I am willing to fight for a cause. I bring fire into the blood. Without me, the earth would be as empty as the moon. I am the color of passion and of love, the red rose, the poinsettia and the poppy.”

Purple rose up to her full height:

She was very tall and spoke with great pomp: “I am the color of royalty and power. Kings, chiefs, and bishops have always chosen me for I am the sign of authority and wisdom. People do not question me! They listen and obey.”

Finally Indigo spoke, much more quietly than all the others, but with just as much determination:

” Think of me. I am the color of silence. You hardly notice me, but without me you all become superficial. I represent thought and reflection, twilight and deep water. You need me for balance and contrast, for prayer and inner peace.”

And so the colors went on boasting, each convinced of his or her own superiority. Their quarreling became louder and louder. Suddenly there was a startling flash of bright lightening thunder rolled and boomed. Rain started to pour down relentlessly. The colors crouched down in fear, drawing close to one another for comfort.

In the midst of the clamor, Rain began to speak:
“You foolish colors, fighting amongst yourselves, each trying to dominate the rest. Don’t you know that you were each made for a special purpose, unique and different? Join hands with one another and come to me.”

Doing as they were told, the colors united and joined hands.

The Rain continued:

“From now on, when it rains, each of you will stretch across the sky in a great bow of color as a reminder that you can all live in peace. The Rainbow is a sign of hope for tomorrow.” And so, whenever a good rain washes the world, and a Rainbow appears in the sky, let us remember to appreciate one another.”

Life is full of splendor like a rainbow:
Red like an apple, sweet to the core.
Orange, like a burning flame, never dying out.
Yellow like the sun that brightens your day.
Green like a plant that keeps on growing.
Blue like the water that is so pure.
Purple like a flower that is ready to bloom.
Indigo like the dreams that fill your heart.

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Love And Time..

9 09 2007

Here is another forward that I have received a long time back. There is no specific reason to post this apart from the fact that I liked this.  This story brings out quite creatively that time is much needed to appreciate the richness of love.. Muse on..

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Once upon a time, there was an island where all the feelings lived: Happiness, Sadness, Knowledge, and all of the others, including Love. One day it was announced to the feelings that the island would sink, so all repaired their boats and left.

Love wanted to persevere until the last possible moment. When the island was almost sinking, Love decided to ask for help.

Richness was passing by Love in a grand boat. Love said, “Richness, can you take me with you?” Richness answered, “No, I can’t. There is a lot of gold and silver in my boat. There is no place here for you.”

Love decided to ask Vanity who was also passing by in a beautiful vessel, “Vanity, please help me!” “I can’t help you Love. You are all wet and might damage my boat.” Vanity answered.

Sadness was close by so Love asked for help, “Sadness, let me go with you.” “Oh….Love, I am so sad that I need to be by myself!”

Happiness passed by Love too, but she was so happy that she did not even hear when Love called her! Suddenly, there was a voice, “Come Love, I will take you.” It was an elder.

Love felt so blessed and overjoyed that he even forgot to ask the elder his name. When they arrived at dry land, the elder went his own way.

Love realizing how much he owed the elder and asked Knowledge, another elder, “Who helped me?” “It was Time,” Knowledge answered.

“Time?” asked Love. “But why did Time help me?”

Knowledge smiled with deep wisdom and answered, “Because, only Time is capable of understanding how great Love is.”





A Story On Excellence..

23 07 2007

Here is a story that I wanted to share as it had a grain of truth.. ( Courtesy: Forwards)

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A gentleman was once visiting a temple under construction. In the temple premises, he saw a sculptor making an idol of God. Suddenly he saw, just a few meters away, another identical idol was lying.

Surprised he asked the sculptor, “Do you need two statutes of the same idol”. “No” said the sculptor. “We need only one, but the first one got damaged at the last stage”.

The gentleman examined the sculptor. No apparent damage was visible. “Where is the damage” asked the gentleman.

“There is a scratch on the nose of the idol.”

“Where are you going to keep the idol”.

The sculptor replied that it will be installed on a pillar 20 feet high. “When the idol will be 20 feet away from the eyes of the beholder, who is going to know that there is scratch on the nose?” The gentleman asked.

“The sculptor looked at the gentleman, smiled and said “God knows it and I know it”.

The desire to excel should be exclusive of the fact whether someone appreciates it or not. Excellence is a drive from ”Inside” not ”Outside”.





A Real Life Experience..

27 05 2007

This article is written by Sudha Murthy. Sudha Murthy is a widely published writer and chairperson of the Infosys Foundation involved in a number of social development initiatives. Infosys chairman Narayan Murthy is her husband. I must have gone through it many times, yet everytime I go through it, it never ceases to inspire me. The humility of the Tatas and how it impacted Sudha’s life is so evident…

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It was probably the April of 1974. Bangalore was getting warm and gulmohars were blooming at the IISc campus. I was the only girl in my postgraduate department and was staying at the ladies’ hostel. Other girls were pursuing research in different departments of Science.

I was looking forward to going abroad to complete a Doctorate in computer science. I had been offered scholarships from Universities in the US . I had not thought of taking up a job in India .

One day, while on the way to my hostel from our Lecture-hall complex, I saw an advertisement on the notice board. It was a Standard job-requirement notice from the famous automobile company Telco (Now Tata Motors). It stated that the company required young, bright engineers, Hardworking and with an excellent academic background, etc.

At the bottom was a small line: “Lady Candidates need not apply.”

I read it and was very upset. For the first time in my life I was up against gender discrimination.

Though I was not keen on taking up the job, I saw it as a challenge. I had done extremely well in academics, better than most of my male peers. Little did I know then that in real life academic Excellence is not enough to be successful.

After reading the notice I went fuming to my room. I decided to inform the topmost person in Telco’s management about the injustice the company was perpetrating. I got a postcard and started to write, but there was a problem: I did not know who headed Telco.

I thought it must be one of the Tatas. I knew JRD Tata was the head of the Tata Group; I had seen his pictures in newspapers (actually, Sumant Moolgaokar was the company’s chairman then). I took the card, addressed it to JRD and started writing. To this day I remember clearly what I wrote.

“The great Tatas have always been pioneers. They are the people who started the basic infrastructure industries in India , such as iron and steel, chemicals, textiles and locomotives. They have cared for higher education in Indiasince 1900 and they were responsible for the establishment of the Indian Institute of Science. Fortunately, I study there. But I am surprised how a company such as Telco is discriminating on the basis of gender.”

I posted the letter and forgot about it. Less than 10 days later, I received a telegram stating that I had to appear for an interview at Telco’s Pune facility at the company’s expense. I was taken aback by the telegram. My hostel mate told me I should use the opportunity to go to Pune free of cost and buy them the famous Pune saris for cheap! I collected Rs 30 each from everyone who wanted a sari. When I look back, I feel like laughing at the reasons for my going, but back then they seemed good enough to make the trip.

It was my first visit to Pune and I immediately fell in love with the city. To this day it remains dear to me. I feel as much at home in Pune as I do in Hubli, my hometown. The place changed my life in so many ways. As directed, I went to Telco’s Pimpri office for the interview.

There were six people on the panel and I realised then that this was serious business. This is the girl who wrote to JRD,” I heard somebody whisper as soon as I entered the room. By then I knew for sure that I would not get the job. The realisation abolished all fear from my mind, so I was rather cool while the interview was being conducted.

Even before the interview started, I reckoned the panel was biased, so I told them, rather impolitely, “I hope this is only a technical interview.”

They were taken aback by my rudeness, and even today I am ashamed about my attitude. The panel asked me technical questions and I answered all of them.

Then an elderly gentleman with an affectionate voice told me, “Do you know why we said lady candidates need not apply? The reason is that we have never employed any ladies on the shop floor. This is not a co-ed college; this is a factory. When it comes to academics, you are a first ranker throughout. We appreciate that, but people like you should work in research laboratories.”

I was a young girl from small-town Hubli. My world had been a limited place. I did not know the ways of large corporate houses and their difficulties, so I answered, “But you must start somewhere, otherwise no woman will ever be able to work in your factories.”

Finally, after a long interview, I was told I had been successful. So this was what the future had in store for me. Never had I thought I would take up a job in Pune. I met a shy young man from Karnataka there, we became good friends and we got married.

It was only after joining Telco that I realized who JRD was: the uncrowned king of Indian industry. Now I was scared, but I did not get to meet him till I was transferred to Bombay . One day I had to show some reports to Mr Moolgaokar, our chairman, who we all knew as SM. I was in his office on the first floor of BombayHouse (the Tata headquarters) when, suddenly JRD walked in. That was the first time I saw “appro JRD”. Appro means “our” in Gujarati. This was the affectionate term by which people at Bombay House called him.

I was feeling very nervous, remembering my postcard episode. SM introduced me nicely, “Jeh (that’s what his close associates called him), this young woman is an engineer and that too a postgraduate.

She is the first woman to work on the Telco shop floor.” JRD looked at me. I was praying he would not ask me any questions about my interview (or the postcard that preceded it).

Thankfully, he didn’t. Instead, he remarked. “It is nice that girls are getting into engineering in our country. By the way, what is your name?”

“When I joined Telco I was Sudha Kulkarni, Sir,” I replied. “Now I am Sudha Murthy.” He smiled and kindly smile and started a discussion with SM. As for me, I almost ran out of the room. After that I used to see JRD on and off. He was the Tata Group chairman and I was merely an engineer. There was nothing that we had in common. I was in awe of him.

One day I was waiting for Murthy, my husband, to pick me up after office hours. To my surprise I saw JRD standing next to me. I did not know how to react. Yet again I started worrying about that postcard. Looking back, I realise JRD had forgotten about it. It must
have been a small incident for him, but not so for me.

“Young lady, why are you here?” he asked. “Office time is over.” I said, “Sir, I’m waiting for my husband to come and pick me up.” JRD said, “It is getting dark and there’s no one in the corridor.

I’ll wait with you till your husband comes.”

I was quite used to waiting for Murthy, but having JRD waiting alongside made me extremely uncomfortable.

I was nervous. Out of the corner of my eye I looked at him. He wore a simple white pant and shirt. He was old, yet his face was glowing. There wasn’t any air of superiority about him. I was thinking, “Look at this person. He is a chairman, a well-respected man in our country and he is waiting for
the sake of an ordinary employee.”

Then I saw Murthy and I rushed out. JRD called and said, “Young lady, tell your husband never to make his wife wait again.”

In 1982 I had to resign from my job at Telco. I was reluctant to go, but I really did not have a choice. I was coming down the steps of Bombay House after wrapping up my final settlement when I saw JRD coming up. He was absorbed in thought. I wanted to say goodbye to him, so I stopped. He saw me and paused.

Gently, he said, “So what are you doing, Mrs Kulkarni?”
(That was the way he always addressed me.) “Sir, I am leaving Telco.”

“Where are you going?” he asked. “Pune, Sir. My husband is starting a company called Infosys and I’m shifting to Pune.”

“Oh! And what will you do when you are successful.”

“Sir, I don’t know whether we will be successful.”
“Never start with diffidence,” he advised me. “Always start with confidence. When you are successful you must give back to society. Society gives us so much; we must reciprocate. I wish you all the best.”

Then JRD continued walking up the stairs. I stood there for what seemed like a millennium. That was the last time I saw him alive. Many years later I met Ratan Tata in the same Bombay House, occupying the chair JRD once did. I told him of my many sweet memories of working with Telco. Later, he wrote to me, “It was nice hearing about Jeh from you. The sad part is that he’s not alive to see you today.”

I consider JRD a great man because, despite being an extremely busy person, he valued one postcard written by a young girl seeking justice. He must have received thousands of letters everyday. He could have thrown mine away, but he didn’t do that. He respected the intentions of that unknown girl, who had neither influence nor money, and gave her an opportunity in his company. He did not merely give her a job; he changed her life and mindset forever.

Close to 50 per cent of the students in today’s engineering colleges are girls. And there are women on the shop floor in many industry segments. I see these changes and I think of JRD. If at all time stops and asks me what I want from life, I would say I wish JRD were alive today to see how the company we started has grown. He would have enjoyed it wholeheartedly.

My love and respect for the House of Tata remains undiminished by the passage of time. I always looked up to JRD. I saw him as a role model for his simplicity, his generosity, his kindness and the care he took of his employees. Those blue eyes always reminded me of the sky; they had the same vastness and magnificence.





The classic Indirect Proposal..

8 11 2005

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BOY: I need someone to talk to ..
GiRL: I`m alwayz here for you.
BOY: I know.
GiRL: Whatz wrong?
BOY: I like her *s0o* much..
GiRL: Talk to her.
BOY: I don`t know.. she`ll never like me.
GiRL: Don`t say that. You`re amazing.
BOY: I just wanna tell her how I feel ..
GiRL: Then tell her.
BOY: She won`t like me.
GiRL: How do you know that?
BOY: I can just tell.
GiRL: Well, just tell her.
BOY: What should I say?
GiRL: Tell her how much you like her.
BOY: I tell her that daily.
GiRL: What youu mean?
BOY: I’m alwayz with her. I love her.
GiRL: I know how you feel. I have the same problem. But he`ll never like me.
BOY: Wait. Who do you like?
GiRL: Ooh, some boy..
BOY: Ooh, she won`t like me either.
GiRL: She does.
BOY: How do you know.. ?
GiRL: Because who wouldn`t like you?
BOY: You..
GiRL: You`re wrong. I love you.
BOY: I love you too.
GiRL: .. so are you going to talk to her?
BOY: I just did.

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Got this as a forward. Somehow I feel that this conversation depicts the hesitation, self-doubt and love quite convincingly.





Love Stories..

21 10 2005

Its nice to read some love stories at times.. They give such nice hope and they talk of so much optimism. I like the idea that there is someone who cares for you, even if it can be a myth. Its just that feeling,”Pal bhar keliye koi hame Pyaar karle, Jhoota hi sahi!”

This is a good story which I have received today as a forward. Hope you like it too.

A SWEET LOVE STORY

He met her on a party. She was so outstanding, many guys chasing after her, while he was so normal, nobody paid attention to him. At the end of the party, he invited her to have coffee with him, she was surprised, but due to being polite, she promised.

They sat in a nice coffee shop, he was too nervous to say anything, she felt uncomfortable, she thought, please, let me go home.. Suddenly he asked the waiter: “would you please give me some salt? I’d like to put it in my coffee.”

Everybody stared at him, so strange! His face turned red, but, still, he put the salt in his coffee and drank it. She asked him curiously: why you have this hobby?

He replied: “when I was a little boy, I was living near the sea, I liked playing in the sea, I could feel the taste of the sea , just like the taste of the salty coffee. Now every time I have the salty coffee, I always think of my childhood, think of my hometown, I miss my hometown so much, I miss my parents who are still living there”. While saying that tears filled his eyes. She was deeply touched.

That’s his true feeling, from the bottom of his heart. A man who can tell out his homesickness, he must be a man who loves home, cares about home, has responsibility of home.. Then she also started to speak, spoke about her faraway hometown, her childhood, her family. That was a really nice talk, also a beautiful beginning of their story.

They continued to date. She found that actually he was a man who meets all her demands; he had tolerance, was kind hearted, warm, careful. He was such a good person but she almost missed him! Thanks to his salty coffee!

Then the story was just like every beautiful love story, the princess married to the prince, then they were living the happy life… And, every time she made coffee for him, she put some salt in the coffee, as she knew that’s the way he liked it.

After 40 years, he passed away, left her a letter which said: “My dearest, please forgive me, forgive my whole life lie. This was the only lie I said to you—the salty coffee. Remember the first time we dated? I was so nervous at that time, actually I wanted some sugar, but I said salt. It was hard for me to change so I just went ahead. I never thought that could be the start of our communication!

I tried to tell you the truth many times in my life, but I was too afraid to do that, as I have promised not to lie to you for anything.. Now I’m dying, I afraid of nothing so I tell you the truth: I don’t like the salty coffee, what a strange bad taste.. But I have had the salty coffee for my whole life!

Since I knew you, I never feel sorry for anything I do for you. Having you with me is my biggest happiness for my whole life. If I can live for the second time, still want t o know you and have you for my whole life, even though I have to drink the salty coffee again”. Her tears made the letter totally wet.

Someday, someone asked her: what’s the taste of salty coffee?
It’s sweet. She replied.

love is not 2 forget
but 2 forgive
not 2 c but understand
not 2 hear but 2 listen
not 2 let go but HOLD ON !!!!

Love begins with a smile, grows with a kiss and ends with a tear. Being loved by someone gives u strength, being in love with someone deeply gives u courage!!!





The Story of a Woodcutter…

20 01 2005

Hey today I read a good story in the Tata Motors employee magazine…

Its about a wood cutter who works under a timber merchant. On the first day he fells 18 trees and the boss is quite pleased. Next day he tries very hard but could fell only 15 trees, the next day 10…and the number keeps on decreasing. He feels bad and incompetent but he can’t understand the reason . So he goes to his boss and complains of his failure. Then his boss questions him, when did u last sharpened your axe? His reply was well, I was so immersed in cutting trees that I got no time to sharpen my axe…

This story hit a nerve. Many times I resolve myself to the pattern of work out here that I really forget to sharpen my axe, to use my brain and to think differently. May be everyone needs a shelter to save oneself from the tensions of the day and to unwind too. Did u sharpen your axe today?





A letter from Abraham Lincoln to his son’s head master…

17 09 2004

I published this because I liked the beauty of expression and the gravity of the essence….

Abraham Lincoln, the 16th president of the united states of America (1861 – 1865) is one of the world’s great statesmen for all time. Here is a letter written by Abraham Lincoln to the head master of his school in which his son was studying, a letter so typical of the man who bore malice towards none and had charity for all.

“ He will have to learn, I know, that all men are not just, all men are not true. But teach him also that for every scoundrel there is a hero: that far every selfish politician, there is a dedicated leader…

Teach him that for every enemy there is a friend. It will take time, I know a long time, but teach, if you can, that a dollar earned is of more value then five of found.

Teach him, to learn to lose…And also to enjoy winning. Steer him away from envy, if you can, teach in the secret of quiet laughter.

Teach him, if you can the wonder of books…But also given quiet time wonder the eternal mystery of birds in the sky, bees in the sun, and flowers on the green hillside.

In a school teach him, it is far more honorable to fail than to cheat…

Teach him to have faith in his own idea, even if anyone else tell him they are wrong…

Teach him to be gentle with gentle people and tough with tough.

Teach him to listen to all men…But teach him also to filter all he hears on a screen of truth, and take only the good one that comes through.

Teach him, if you can, how to laugh when he is sad. Teach him there is no shame in tear.

Teach them to sell his brawn and brain to the highest bidder but never to put a prize tag on his heart and soul.

Teach him gently, but do not cuddle him, because only the test of fire makes the fine steel.
Teach him always to have sublime faith in himself because then he will always have some sublime faith in mankind.

This is a big order, but see what can you do… He is such a fine little fellow, my son! Dad”