<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958</id><updated>2011-11-27T16:39:57.753-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Inspirational Stories</title><subtitle type='html'>I dedicate to you as a Reader...the following selective collection and compilation of Short Stories embroidered with the most powerful human traits, emotions and motivational techniques ...May the Golden Healing Light shine on you with every breath you take...With Love and Warm Regards//Dhyantirth</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>108</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-1948318686510784474</id><published>2009-02-21T02:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T02:32:25.797-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Think before you speak</title><content type='html'>The train has started moving. It is packed with people of all ages, mostly with the working men and women and young college guys and gals. Near the window, seated a old man with his 30 year old son. As the train moves by, the son is overwhelmed with joy as he was thrilled with the scenery outside.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/moving%20train" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i296.photobucket.com/albums/mm163/thatd-be-us/gth_moving-3-1.gif" border="0" alt="train Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"See dad, the scenery of green trees moving away is very beautiful" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This behavior from a thirty year old son made the other people feel strange about him. Every one started murmuring something or other about this son."This guy seems to be a krack.." newly married Anup whispered to his wife. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly it started raining... Rain drops fell on the travelers through the opened window. The Thirty year old son , filled with  joy " see dad, how beautiful the rain is .." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anup's wife got irritated with the rain drops spoiling her new suit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anup ," cant you see its raining, you old man, if your son is not feeling well get him soon to a mental asylum..and dont disturb public henceforth"          &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man hesitated first and then in a low tone replied " we are on the way back from hospital, my son was a blind by birth, he got his vision just before a week,  these rain and nature are new to his eyes.. So, please forgive us for the inconvenience caused..."   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The things we see may be right from our perspective until we know the truth. But when we know the truth our reaction to that will hurt even us. So try to understand the problem better before taking a harsh action.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-1948318686510784474?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/1948318686510784474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/think-before-you-speak.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/1948318686510784474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/1948318686510784474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/think-before-you-speak.html' title='Think before you speak'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-196941182638385248</id><published>2009-02-21T02:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T02:37:53.977-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Angel Says</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/speaking%20angel" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Aurora's Mommy Pictures, Images and Photos" src="http://i175.photobucket.com/albums/w148/BLU--WULF/Characters/Gifteds/Angels/sara-2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An Angel says, 'Never borrow from the future. If you worry about what may happen tomorrow and it doesn't happen, you have worried in vain. Even if it does happen, you have to worry twice.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Pray&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Go to bed on time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Get up on time so you can start the day unrushed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Say No to projects that won't fit into your time schedule, or that will compromise your mental health.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Delegate tasks to capable others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Simplify and unclutter your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Less is more. (Although one is often not enough, two are often too many.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Allow extra time to do things and to get to places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Pace yourself. Spread out big changes and difficult projects over time; don't lump the hard things all together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Take one day at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Separate worries from concerns . If a situation is a concern, find out what God would have you do and let go of the anxiety . If you can't do anything about a situation, forget it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Live within your budget; don't use credit cards for ordinary purchases.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Have backups; an extra car key in your wallet, an extra house key buried in the garden, extra stamps, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. K.M.S.. (Keep Mouth Shut). This single piece of advice can prevent an enormous amount of trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Do something for the Kid in You everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Carry a Bible with you to read while waiting in line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Get enough rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Eat right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19 Get organized so everything has its place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Listen to a tape while driving that can help improve your quality of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Write down thoughts and inspirations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Every day, find time to be alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Having problems? Talk to God on the spot. Try to nip small problems in the bud. Don't wait until it's time to go to bed to try and pray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Make friends with Godly people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Keep a folder of favorite scriptures on hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. Remember that the shortest bridge between despair and hope is often a good 'Thank you Jesus ...'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. Laugh..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. Laugh some more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. Take your work seriously, but not yourself at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. Develop a forgiving attitude (most people are doing the best they can).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. Be kind to unkind people (they probably need it the most).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. Sit on your ego.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33 Talk less; listen more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. Slow down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. Remind yourself that you are not the general manager of the universe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36 Every night before bed, think of one thing you're grateful for that you've never been grateful for before. GOD HAS A WAY OF TURNING THINGS AROUND FOR YOU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'If God is for us, who can be against us?'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-196941182638385248?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/196941182638385248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/angel-says.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/196941182638385248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/196941182638385248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/angel-says.html' title='An Angel Says'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-8727378923435808943</id><published>2009-02-21T02:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T02:30:52.157-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just for You</title><content type='html'>Health:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Drink plenty of water.&lt;br /&gt;2. Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dinner like a beggar.&lt;br /&gt;3. Eat more foods that grow on trees and plants and eat less food that is manufactured in plants.&lt;br /&gt;4. Live with the 3 E's -- Energy, Enthusiasm, and Empathy.&lt;br /&gt;5. Make time to practice meditation, yoga, and prayer.&lt;br /&gt;6. Play more games.&lt;br /&gt;7. Read more books than you did in 2008.&lt;br /&gt;8. Sit in silence for at least 10 minutes each day.&lt;br /&gt;9. Sleep for 7 hours.&lt;br /&gt;10. Take a 10-30 minutes walk every day. And while you walk, smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personality:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Don't compare your life to others'. You have no idea what their journey is all about. &lt;br /&gt;12. Don't have negative thoughts or things you cannot control. Instead invest your energy in the positive present moment.&lt;br /&gt;13. Don't over do. Keep your limits.&lt;br /&gt;14. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.&lt;br /&gt;15. Don't waste your precious energy on gossip.&lt;br /&gt;16. Dream more while you are awake.&lt;br /&gt;17. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.&lt;br /&gt;18. Forget issues of the past. Don't remind your partner with his/her mistakes of the past. That will ruin your resent happiness.&lt;br /&gt;19. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone. Don't hate others.&lt;br /&gt;20. Make peace with your past so it won't spoil the present.&lt;br /&gt;21. No one is in charge of your happiness except you.&lt;br /&gt;22. Realize that life is a school and you are here to learn. Problems are simply part of the curriculum that appear and fade away like algebra class but the lessons you learn will last a lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;23. Smile and laugh more.&lt;br /&gt;24. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Society:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Call your family often.&lt;br /&gt;26. Each day give something good to others.&lt;br /&gt;27. Forgive everyone for everything.&lt;br /&gt;28. Spend time with people over the age of 70 &amp; under the age of 6.&lt;br /&gt;29. Try to make at least three people smile each day.&lt;br /&gt;30. What other people think of you is none of your business.&lt;br /&gt;31. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends will. Stay in touch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. Do the right thing!&lt;br /&gt;33. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.&lt;br /&gt;34. GOD heals everything.&lt;br /&gt;35. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.&lt;br /&gt;36. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.&lt;br /&gt;37. The best is yet to come.&lt;br /&gt;38. When you awake alive in the morning, thank GOD for it.&lt;br /&gt;39. Your Inner most is always happy. So, be happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-8727378923435808943?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/8727378923435808943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/just-for-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8727378923435808943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8727378923435808943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/just-for-you.html' title='Just for You'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-5662541181860589451</id><published>2009-02-21T02:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T02:30:28.155-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Important Appointment</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/appointment" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i71.photobucket.com/albums/i140/annsimone/website/appointment.jpg" border="0" alt="appointment Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a busy morning, about 8:30, when an elderly gentleman in his 80's, arrived to have stitches removed from his thumb. He said he was in a hurry as he had an appointment at 9:00 am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took his vital signs and had him take a seat, knowing it would be over an hour before someone would to able to see him. I saw him looking at his watch and decided, since I was not busy with another patient, I would evaluate his wound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On exam, it was well healed, so I talked to one of the doctors, got the needed supplies to remove his sutures and redress his wound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While taking care of his wound, I asked him if he had another doctor's appointment this morning, as he was in such a hurry. The gentleman told me no, that he needed to go to the nursing home to eat breakfast with his wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I inquired as to her health. He told me that she had been there for a while and that she was a victim of Alzheimer's Disease. As we talked, I asked if she would be upset if he was a bit late. He replied that she no longer knew who he was, that she had not recognized him in five years now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was surprised, and asked him, 'And you still go every morning, even though she doesn't know who you are?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He smiled as he patted my hand and said, 'She doesn't know me, but I still know who she is.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to hold back tears as he left, I had goose bumps on my arm, and thought, 'That is the kind of love I want in my life.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True love is neither physical, nor romantic. True love is an acceptance of all that is, has been, will be, and will not be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all the jokes and fun that is in e-mails, sometimes there is one that comes along that has an important message. This one I thought I could share with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The happiest people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the best of everything they have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-5662541181860589451?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/5662541181860589451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/important-appointment.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5662541181860589451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5662541181860589451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/important-appointment.html' title='Important Appointment'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i71.photobucket.com/albums/i140/annsimone/website/th_appointment.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-6765212044934491387</id><published>2009-02-21T02:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T02:29:52.352-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Experiment</title><content type='html'>This is  a story about a famous research scientist who had made several very important medical breakthroughs. He was being interviewed by a newspaper reporter who asked him why he thought he was able to be so much more creative than the average person. What set him so far apart from others?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He responded that, in his opinion, it all came from an experience with his mother that occurred when he was about four years old. He had been trying to remove a bottle of milk from the refrigerator when he lost his grip on the slippery bottle and it fell, spilling its contents all over the kitchen floor - a veritable sea of milk!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When his mother came into the kitchen, instead of yelling at him, giving him a lecture, or punishing him, she said, "Robert, what a great and wonderful mess you have made! I have rarely seen such a huge puddle of milk. Well, the damage has already been done. Would you like to get down and play in the milk for a few minutes before we clean it up?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indeed, he did. After a few minutes, his mother said, "You know, Robert, whenever you make a mess like this, eventually you have to clean it up and restore everything to its proper order. So, how would you like to do that? We could use a sponge, a towel, or a mop. Which do you prefer?" He chose the sponge and together they cleaned up the spilled milk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His mother then said, "You know, what we have here is a failed experiment in how to effectively carry a big milk bottle with two tiny hands. Let's go out in the back yard and fill the bottle with water and see if you can discover a way to carry it without dropping it." The little boy learned that if he grasped the bottle at the top near the lip with both hands, he could carry it without dropping it. What a wonderful lesson!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This renowned scientist then remarked that it was at that moment that he knew he didn't need to be afraid to make mistakes. Instead, he learned that mistakes were just opportunities for learning something new, which is, after all, what scientific experiments are all about. Even if the experiment "doesn't work," we usually learn something valuable from it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-6765212044934491387?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/6765212044934491387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/experiment.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6765212044934491387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6765212044934491387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/experiment.html' title='Experiment'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-5521469697033264779</id><published>2009-02-21T02:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T02:29:26.898-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Value</title><content type='html'>A well-known speaker started off his seminar by holding up a $20.00 bill. In the room of 200, he asked, "Who would like this $20 bill?" Hands started going up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "I am going to give this $20 to one of you but first, let me do this. He proceeded to crumple up the $20 dollar bill. He then asked, "Who still wants it?"&lt;br /&gt;Still the hands were up in the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, he replied, "What if I do this?" And he dropped it on the ground and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe. He picked it up, now crumpled and dirty. "Now, who still wants it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still the hands went into the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have all learned a very valuable lesson. No matter what I did to the money, you still wanted it because it did not decrease in value. It was still worth $20. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many times in our lives, we are dropped, crumpled, and ground into the dirt by the decisions we make and the circumstances that come our way. We feel as though we are worthless. But no matter what has happened or what will happen, you will never lose your value. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dirty or clean, crumpled or finely creased, you are still priceless to those who DO LOVE you. The worth of our lives comes not in what we do or who we know, but by WHO WE ARE. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are special - "Don't EVER forget it."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-5521469697033264779?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/5521469697033264779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/value.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5521469697033264779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5521469697033264779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/value.html' title='Value'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-4797903225289917189</id><published>2009-02-21T02:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T02:29:00.173-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Be a Better Couple</title><content type='html'>How To Be A Better Couple...10 steps to enjoying each other better...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/good%20couple" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i347.photobucket.com/albums/p465/panetryababymilo/711130gk0bfqvqoq.gif" border="0" alt="a good couple Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Be realistic about each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't try to turn your partner into something he or she is not. Let's face it, guys-there's only one Pamela Anderson in the world, and even she has had her implants removed! Give your gal a break and understand that her physical appearance is NOT going to change overnight with the help of a few facials or treatments. And ladies, Brad Pitt has already been taken, so u're gonna have to do with what your guy is like! Chill out, love each other for what u are. There is more to your partner than what meets the eye.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;2. Always talk things out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now guys, I know this is not your fave pastime or mode of resolving issues, but u know what? This works with the gals. Don't make assumptions about each other's feelings. Learn to xpress urself better so that your partner understands what u're angry about, or hurt about, or even happy about! When u stop talking to each other from the heart, it's the beginning of the end.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;3. Do stuff together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make an effort to do things together. Do some sports or involve urselves in some shared activities; something both of u enjoy or are interested in. It could be as simple as watching movies together, or jus strolling hand-in-hand down Orchard Road. Watch soccer with him once in a while though the green patch on TV puts u to sleep in 3 seconds. And guys, do give in if your gal asks for another day at window-shopping, rather than suggest that she go out with her girlfriends for "that sort of activities" instead. If u're spending more time with your friends rather than with your partner, it's a warning sign that u're drifting apart!!!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;4. Meet each other halfway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If he agrees to throw out that rotten T-shirt with the "The_Rock" print, u shouldn't kick up much of a fuss if he asks u to keep your room tidy. There's gotta be a little giving and taking in a relationship, so learn to meet each other halfway.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;5.Show your love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buy her flowers or candy or perfume every now and then, even if u have been together for 5 years. It's wonderful to continue showing someone that u care for him or her. Cook him a special meal, paint him a Valentine's Day card. Knit him mini-socks he can't wear ( like for decoration purposes), buy him a packet of milk for breakfast, or pack his wardrobe for him...so he knows u can still be romantic and loving despite having been together for quite a while.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;6. Respect each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop making jokes about her hair or skin, or whatever it is u love to laugh at. Ask urself if she thinks if its funny. And if he has an inferiority complex about his height, stop ogling at tall guys and make him feel worse! Love is about respecting each other's feelings and being sensitive to each other at all times.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;7. Bury the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop bringing up the past. Gals..don't bring up the happy things about u and your ex to your guy, it would jus make him jealous or unhappy. And guys, don't talk about the happy times that u had with your ex or mention about her in your every other sentence as it would make your gal feel un-happy and she might think that u saying all this b'cos u are gonna get back with your ex or not interested in her anymore.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;8. Sit on your jealousy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of us go thru' spells of insecurity at the beginning of the relationship, but don't translate that insecurity into jealousy. If u're gonna go through your partner's mail and cupboard, and eavesdropping on conversations, u know something is wrong - with u!!! Jealousy is like a poison that slowly spreads thru' the relationship before finally killing it. Trust your partner; love has to have trust in it.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;9. Keep your commitments to each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If your partner is standing u up all the time and cancelling dates and breaking promises, u need to talk! If u're in a relationship, make your partner your priority and don't disappoint them if u can help it. It's really terrible when someone promises to take u to dinner, and then calls to cancel it. Don't make promises u can't keep. If your partner starts to feel that he/she is not important enough to u, u may jus lose him/her.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;10. Be honest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honesty is not scowling at how awful she looks first thing in the morning, or telling him that he has the biceps of a fly! When we say "be honest", we mean expressing your feelings clearly, not being bitingly cruel. When u're hurt, say so, and when u're angry, tell him/her, w/o getting hysterical. If u can't be honest with your partner, who can u be honest with? Love is also about honesty, and a relationship where no honesty exists probably isn't worth it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-4797903225289917189?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/4797903225289917189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/be-better-couple.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4797903225289917189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4797903225289917189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/be-better-couple.html' title='Be a Better Couple'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-5734769230188047000</id><published>2009-02-20T19:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T19:28:59.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Story of a Wallet</title><content type='html'>Once an old man was travelling by train on a pilgrimage to Brindavan. At night, whilst he was asleep, his wallet fell from his pocket. A co-passenger found it the next morning and enquired as to whom the wallet belonged. The old man said it was his. A picture of Sri Krishna inside the wallet was proof that the wallet really belonged to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/lord%20krishna" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i136.photobucket.com/albums/q171/sunflower_mee/Krishna/da60.jpg" border="0" alt="Lord Krishna Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man then began to relate the story of the wallet. He soon had a group of eager listeners around him. Lifting up the purse for all to see, the old man said: This purse has a long history behind it. My father gave it to me years ago when I was a mere schoolboy. I kept my little pocket money in it and also a photograph of my parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Years passed. I grew up and began studying at university. Like every youth, I became conscious of my appearance. I replaced my parents' photograph with that of my own and I would look at it often. I had become my own admirer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came marriage. Self-admiration gave way to the consciousness of a family. Out went my own picture and I replaced it with that of my wife's. During the day I would open the wallet many times and gaze at the picture. All tiredness vanished and I would resume my work with enthusiasm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came the birth of my first child. What a joy I experienced when I became a father! I would eagerly rush home after work to play with my little baby. Needless to say, my wife's picture had already made way for the child's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man paused. Wiping his tearful eyes, he looked around and said in a sad voice: Friends, my parents passed away long ago. My wife too died five years ago. My son- my only son- is now married. He is too busy with his career and his family. He has no time for me. I now stand on the brink of death. I do not know what awaits me in future. Everything I loved, everything I considered my own, has left me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A picture of Lord Krishna now occupies the place in my wallet. I know He will never leave me. I wish now that I had kept HIS picture with me right from the beginning! He alone is true; all others are just passing shadows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sri Sarada Devi, the holy mother, says: Don't be afraid my child, these earthly ties are transitory. Today they seem to be the be-all and end-all of life, and tomorrow they vanish. Your real tie is with God. God is one's very own. It is the eternal relationship. He is ever looking after you. Call on the Lord who pervades the entire universe. He will shower His blessings upon you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-5734769230188047000?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/5734769230188047000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/story-of-wallet.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5734769230188047000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5734769230188047000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/story-of-wallet.html' title='Story of a Wallet'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i136.photobucket.com/albums/q171/sunflower_mee/Krishna/th_da60.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-942151216785455672</id><published>2009-02-20T19:26:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T19:27:32.611-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Goats</title><content type='html'>A very very narrow bridge was improvised connecting two high mountain tops. The bridge was like a narrow wooden plank slung across the two mountain tops and had neither railings nor even ropes for protection. From the bridge, looking below, long way down, ran the treacherous rapids of a mighty river meandering through giant boulders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/goat" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i266.photobucket.com/albums/ii262/Bunners_2006/goat.gif" border="0" alt="Goat Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, a mountain goat came along and wanted to go across the bridge to the other side of the mountain. The goat started walking over the narrow bridge. Mountain goats are sure-footed animals and are fearless mountain climbers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At about the same time, another goat started crossing the bridge from the other end. The two goats came face to face in the middle of the bridge. The bridge being very narrow, the two goats could not go past one another. And there was no way the goats could make about turns. There was absolutely no possibility that the goats could turn back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second goat spoke arrogantly to the first goat: "You are obstructing my path. Get out of my way, you silly goat! I am in a hurry to go to the other side."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first goat replied: "I was first to step on to the bridge and therefore I have the right to cross the bridge first."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second goat retorted angrily: "I am the strongest goat around. I have never lost a fight with other goats. Look at my great big horns and think again. Either you quickly get out of my way or else…!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The two goats started fighting. Their horns locked and it was indeed, a strange sight to behold. High up above on a narrow bridge two goats could not come to terms with each other. They threw caution overboard and as a result there ensued a battle between two fools. Both goats lost their balance and fell to their certain deaths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After one week, by a strange co-incidence, two other goats started crossing the bridge from the opposite ends. One goat from this end of the bridge and the other goat from the other end. And the two goats met in the middle of the bridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first goat spoke most politely: "I beg your pardon sir! It was too late when I realised that you were also crossing the bridge from the other end. Anyway, I am much younger than you are. I have been taught by my parents and by my teachers that I must respect my elders and that we should be gentle and kind to all creatures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Furthermore, I remember the advice that when confronted with any problem, first offer a prayer to the Lord and seek His guidance. Problems and solutions always go together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think of a bath-towel. If one end of the towel is where problems like to reside then the other end of the towel is where solutions reside. Both ends go together wherever the towel goes. Problems and solutions are inseparable. One has to merely search for the solution. I must first think about a clever solution."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The second goat said: "And what might that (solution) be?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first goat said: "Let me sit on this bridge with my head turned to one side so that you can slowly and carefully step over my back and cross over. I will then get up and be on my way."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus the two goats crossed the bridge safely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-942151216785455672?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/942151216785455672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/two-goats.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/942151216785455672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/942151216785455672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/two-goats.html' title='Two Goats'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-5080535969578677469</id><published>2009-02-20T19:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T19:26:41.338-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Awareness</title><content type='html'>There was one great master, a Buddhist master, Nagarjuna.  A thief came to him.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/thief" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i559.photobucket.com/albums/ss38/TillDeathDoUsPartt/Thief_Bakura.jpg" border="0" alt="-///-... Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thief had fallen in love with the master because he had never seen such a beautiful person, such infinite grace.  He asked Nagarjuna, "Is there some possibility of my growth also?  But one thing I must make clear to you: I am a thief.  And another thing: I cannot leave it, so please don't make it a condition.  I will do whatsoever you say, but I cannot stop being a thief.  That I have tried many times--it never works, so I have left the whole sport.  I have accepted my destiny, that I am going to be a thief and remain a thief, so don't talk about it.  From the very beginning let it be clear."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Nagarjuna said, "Why are you afraid?  Who is going to talk about your being a thief?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The thief said,  "But whenever I go to a monk, to a religious priest, or to a religious saint, they always say, 'First stop stealing.'"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Nagarjuna laughed and said, "Then you must have gone to thieves; otherwise, why? Why should they be concerned? I am not concerned!"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The thief was very happy.  He said, "Then it is okay.  It seems that now I can become a disciple.  You are the right master."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Nagarjuna accepted him and said, "Now you can go and do whatsoever you like.  Only one condition has to be followed: be aware!  Go, break into houses, enter, take things, steal; do whatsoever you like, that is of no concern to me, I am not a thief--but do it with full awareness."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The thief couldn't understand that he was falling into the trap.  He said, "Then everything is okay. I will try."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;After three weeks he came back and said, "You are tricky--because if I become aware, I cannot steal.  If I steal, awareness disappears. I am in a fix."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Nagarjuna said, "No more talk about your being a thief and stealing. I am not concerned;  I am not a thief. Now, you decide! If you want awareness, then you decide. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;If you don't want it, then too you decide."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The man said, "But now it is difficult.  I have tasted it a little, and it is so beautiful--I will leave anything, whatsoever you say.  Just the other night for the first time I was able to enter the palace of the king.  I opened the treasure.  I could have become the richest man in the world--but you were following me and I had to be aware.  When I became aware, diamonds looked just like stones, ordinary stones.  When I lost awareness, the treasure was there.  And I waited and did this many times.  I would become aware and I became like a buddha, and I could not even touch it because the whole thing looked foolish, stupid--just stones, what am I doing?  Losing myself over stones?  But then I would lose awareness; they would become again beautiful, the whole illusion.  But finally I decided that they we re not worth it."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-5080535969578677469?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/5080535969578677469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/awareness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5080535969578677469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5080535969578677469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/awareness.html' title='Awareness'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-469930014430882034</id><published>2009-02-20T19:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T19:43:34.199-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let us change our vision</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/wheel%20animation" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d145/MissFarrahScape/gifs/buttons/animation-wheel.gif" border="0" alt="Wait for the Wheel Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a millionaire who was bothered by severe eye pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He consulted so many physicians and was getting his treatment done. He did not stop consulting galaxy of medical experts; he consumed heavy loads of drugs and underwent hundreds of injections.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the ache persisted with great vigour than before. At last a monk who has supposed to be an expert in treating such patients was called for by the millionaire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The monk understood his problem and said that for sometime he should concentrate only on green colours and not to fall his eyes on any other colours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The millionaire got together a group of painters and purchased barrels of green color and directed that every object his eye was likely to fall to be painted in green colour just as the monk had directed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the monk came to visit him after few days, the millionaire's servants ran with buckets of green paints and poured on him since he was in red dress, lest their master not see any other colour and his eye ache would come back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing this monk laughed said "If only you had purchased a pair of green spectacles, worth just a few rupees, you could have saved these walls and trees and pots and all other articles and also could have saved a large share of his fortune.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You cannot paint the world green." Let us change our vision and the world will appear accordingly. It is foolish to shape the world, let us shape ourselves first.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-469930014430882034?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/469930014430882034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/let-us-change-our-vision.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/469930014430882034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/469930014430882034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/let-us-change-our-vision.html' title='Let us change our vision'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-273619814053656719</id><published>2009-02-20T19:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T19:39:12.175-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stay Happy</title><content type='html'>Happiness and peace beckons everywhere. Sounds too good to be true doesn't it? Life without any stress and worries would be overwhelming, fortunately there is so much you can do to get centered and stay clear headed again. Read the following and your life will change forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/icons/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i726.photobucket.com/albums/ww269/nash_m8/Rafa-Happy.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first step to finding greater happiness and peace is in realizing that you have a choice. Without directing your mind and attention to that which creates happiness and peace, you will unintentionally follow a course of action that most people take which results in stress, pain, worry, anger, and an overabundance of negative emotions and mental stress which rule their lives. No matter how the outside world is affecting you, take a conscious control over your mind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Meet the conscious you &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does being conscious of your own mind mean? No matter what you are thinking there is a part of you that is observing your thoughts. Even now you are watching your thoughts as you read these words. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While there is the mechanical process of discerning what these words mean, there is another part of you that is watching or witnessing the thought process going on in your head. Your consciousness is what is witnessing these thought processes and indeed all of your life experiences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your life as a movie &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Witnessing enables you to be less attached and more objective in your perception and responses to daily life. For example, if you are watching a movie that scares or is upsets you, sit back and tell yourself that you are simply watching a movie and this brings you back to a more peaceful frame of mind. Similarly, when you observe the thoughts and emotions going on in your mind as a conscious `witness' or watcher, you are able to look at these emotional and mental states from a place of inner peace - your natural state. From this place you can gain greater perspective, clarity and insight, and less emotional attachment, which naturally reduces the tension that often accompanies these life experiences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, step back from your mind and observe what you are thinking and feeling as the witness, and live in that virtual state of peace which is your own perception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Understanding yourself &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweet is the song that is deep-rooted in silence. True is the prayer that is founded in compassion, strong is the heart that beats for the weak and determined is the mind that bends to win the smile of a child. As you walk along the sea of change, hold the conch of wisdom to your ear, you will hear the resonance of Truth. Truth that is unaltered by emotions, unscathed by pain, untouched by greed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth, that is supreme, Truth that unites us with Nature!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-273619814053656719?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/273619814053656719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/stay-happy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/273619814053656719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/273619814053656719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/stay-happy.html' title='Stay Happy'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-2295828096506829799</id><published>2009-02-20T19:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T20:15:04.962-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Boxes</title><content type='html'>I have in my hands two boxes, &lt;br /&gt;Which God gave me to hold. &lt;br /&gt;He said, "Put all your sorrows in the black box, &lt;br /&gt;And all your joys in the gold." &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/joy%20and%20sorrow" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i18.photobucket.com/albums/b134/jmatteo/smilenow.gif" border="0" alt="Joy n Sorrow Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heeded His words, and in the two boxes, &lt;br /&gt;Both my joys and sorrows I stored, &lt;br /&gt;But though the gold became heavier each day, &lt;br /&gt;The black was as light as before. &lt;br /&gt;With curiosity, I opened the black, &lt;br /&gt;I wanted to find out why, &lt;br /&gt;And I saw, in the base of the box, a hole, &lt;br /&gt;Which my sorrows had fallen out by. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I showed the hole to God, and mused, &lt;br /&gt;"I wonder where my sorrows could be!" &lt;br /&gt;He smiled a gentle smile and said, &lt;br /&gt;"My child, they're all here with me.." &lt;br /&gt;I asked God, why He gave me the boxes, &lt;br /&gt;Why the gold and the black with the hole? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My child, the gold is for you to count your blessings, &lt;br /&gt;the black is for you to let go."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-2295828096506829799?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/2295828096506829799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/two-boxes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2295828096506829799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2295828096506829799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/two-boxes.html' title='Two Boxes'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-8536894261927840734</id><published>2009-02-20T03:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T20:03:46.719-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Anti-Depression Kit</title><content type='html'>Every household should have an emergency Anti-depression kit in their medicine cabinet That should always contain:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An Eraser, to make your troubles disappear,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Penny, so you're never broke,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Marble, to prove that you didn't loose Them all,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Rubber band, to help you stretch beyond Your limits,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A String, to tie things together when everything Falls apart,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A N D&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/huggs%20and%20kisses" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i449.photobucket.com/albums/qq212/mazen09/huggs%20and%20kisses/hugsenkisseshart.gif" border="0" alt="huggs and kisses Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.....to remind you that Someone cares.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-8536894261927840734?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/8536894261927840734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/anti-depression-kit.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8536894261927840734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8536894261927840734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/anti-depression-kit.html' title='Anti-Depression Kit'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i449.photobucket.com/albums/qq212/mazen09/huggs%20and%20kisses/th_hugsenkisseshart.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-5065703445065620403</id><published>2009-02-19T21:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T21:38:50.544-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Brahmacharis</title><content type='html'>In the olden days, a young woman was living with her 3-year-old son in a house near the banks of a river. In the hot summer season the waters of the river had receded and people would walk across knee-deep waters to cross the river. The woman left her house and went across the river to gather some wood from the countryside. When she came back to the river, to her horror, she saw the river in floods. Lots of heavy rains in the mountain regions caused the waters to make the river swell with water. The woman was worried about her 3-year-old son. He could wander around to the rapidly flowing waters of the river and can drown. The mother was getting hysterical with fear and worry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then two young and well built Brahmacharis (celibate students) were passing by and the mother, crying and begging, asked the Brahmacharis to help her go across the river. She told them about her 3-year-old son left alone to play by the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Brahmacharis remembered the strict rules that they should not touch any female, lest that could arouse desires. That they should not be in the company of any females.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One Brahmachari whose name was Harshananda, reminded himself of the strict rules and said he cannot help the young woman. The other Brahmachari whose name was Devananda, immediately carried the mother on his shoulders and started swimming across the strong currents of the river. He safely delivered the mother to the other side of the river and swam back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/mother%20and%20child" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i153.photobucket.com/albums/s239/sondrasimone/mother_child_.jpg" border="0" alt="mother and child Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Brahmacharis resumed their journey towards the Ashram where they were staying with their Guru. Harshananda, who refused to help could not believe the breach of the strict regulations and was constantly harping on it, muttering and thinking about it all the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they reached the Ashram, the Guru asked them how their day went. The irritated Brahmachari Harshananda immediately spoke out in strong condemnation about the behaviour of his companion. Then the Guru asked the other Brahmachari.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Devananda said: I carried the mother across the river and forgot all about it but it seems my friend is still carrying the woman in his mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Guru was pleased with Devananda who used his discrimination and helped the mother and spoke about the true meaning of hypocrisy as taught in the Bhagavad Gita.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-5065703445065620403?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/5065703445065620403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/two-brahmacharis.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5065703445065620403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5065703445065620403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/two-brahmacharis.html' title='Two Brahmacharis'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-4002825952273896456</id><published>2009-02-19T21:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T22:21:49.582-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Anger and Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SZ5L6unRMXI/AAAAAAAAAEc/p3AYhNNYrTI/s1600-h/Car-Cleaning-Towel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304760883406254450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SZ5L6unRMXI/AAAAAAAAAEc/p3AYhNNYrTI/s320/Car-Cleaning-Towel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;While a man was polishing his new car, his 4 yr old son picked stone &amp;amp; scratched lines on the side of the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In anger, the man took the child's hand &amp;amp; hit it many times, not realizing he was using a wrench.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the hospital, the child lost all his fingers due to multiple fractures. When the child saw his father.... with painful eyes he asked 'Dad when will my fingers grow back?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man was so hurt and speechless. He went back to car and kicked it a lot of times. Devastated by his own actions...... sitting in front of that car he looked at the scratches, child had written 'LOVE YOU DAD'. The next day that man committed suicide. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anger and Love have no limits, Choose the later to have a beautiful &amp;amp; lovely life ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are to be used and people are to be loved, But the problem in today's world is that, People are used and things are loved.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-4002825952273896456?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/4002825952273896456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/anger-and-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4002825952273896456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4002825952273896456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/anger-and-love.html' title='Anger and Love'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SZ5L6unRMXI/AAAAAAAAAEc/p3AYhNNYrTI/s72-c/Car-Cleaning-Towel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-5958183970341931550</id><published>2009-02-19T21:31:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T21:31:50.872-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Critical Thinking</title><content type='html'>A new vacuum cleaner salesman knocked on the door on the  first house of the street. A tall lady answered the door.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Before she could speak, the enthusiastic salesman barged into the living room and opened a big black plastic bag and  poured all the cow droppings onto the carpet.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;"Madam, if I could not clean this up with the use of  this new powerful Vacuum cleaner, I will EAT all this  dung!" exclaimed the eager salesman.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;"Do you need chilly sauce or ketchup with that"  asked the lady.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;The bewildered salesman asked, "Why, madam?"&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;"There's no electricity in the house..." said  the lady  &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;MORAL: Gather all resources before working on  any project and committing to the client...!!!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"IF YOU CAN'T HELP ANYONE, DON'T HURT ANYONE  TOO"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-5958183970341931550?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/5958183970341931550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/critical-thinking.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5958183970341931550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5958183970341931550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/critical-thinking.html' title='Critical Thinking'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-5190142029134904813</id><published>2009-02-19T21:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T21:31:13.487-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Telegraph</title><content type='html'>Back when the telegraph was the was the fastest method of long-distance communication, a young man applied for a job as a Morse Code operator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Answering an ad in the newspaper, he went to the office address that was listed. When he arrived, he entered a large, busy office filled with noise and clatter, including the sound of the telegraph in the background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sign on the receptionist's counter instructed job applicants to fill out a form and wait until they were summoned to enter the inner office.The young man filled out his form and sat down with the seven other applicants in the waiting area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/telegraph" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e244/ArianKarim/telegraph.jpg" border="0" alt="telegraph Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few minutes, the young man stood up, crossed the room to the door of the inner office, and walked right in. Naturally the other applicants perked up, wondering what was going on. They muttered among themselves that they hadn't heard any summons yet. They assumed that the young man who went into the office made a mistake and would be disqualified.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within a few minutes, however, the employer escorted the young man out of the office and said to the other applicants, "Gentlemen, thank you very much for coming, but the job has just been filled."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other applicants began grumbling to each other, and one spoke up saying, "Wait a minute, I don't understand. He was the last to come in, and we never even got a chance to be interviewed. Yet he got the job. That's not fair!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The employer said, "I'm sorry, but all the time you've been sitting here, the telegraph has been ticking out the following message in Morse Code: 'If you understand this message, then come right in. The job is yours.' None of you heard it or understood it. This young man did. The job is his."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We live in a world that is full of busyness and clatter, like that office. People are distracted and unable to hear the still, small voice of God . Friends, can you hear the messages from God?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-5190142029134904813?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/5190142029134904813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/telegraph.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5190142029134904813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5190142029134904813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/telegraph.html' title='The Telegraph'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-17622665221067601</id><published>2009-02-19T21:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T21:30:12.668-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unconditional Acceptance</title><content type='html'>Dear friends,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came accross this beautiful piece which I want to share with our family.  So please read on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a mother of three (ages 14, 12, 3), and have recently completed my college degree. The last class I had to take was Sociology. The teacher was absolutely inspiring with the qualities that I wish every human being had been graced with. Her last project of the term was called "Smile. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The class was asked to go out and smile at three people and document their reaction. I am a very friendly person and always smile at everyone and say, hello, anyway... so, I thought, this would be a piece of cake, literally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon after we were assigned the project, my husband, youngest son, and I went out to McDonald's, one crisp March morning. It was just our way of sharing special play time with our son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were standing in line, waiting to be served, when all of a sudden everyone around us began to back away, and then even my husband did. I did not move an inch... an overwhelming feeling of panic welled up inside of me as I turned to see why they had moved. As I turned around I smelled a horrible "dirty body" smell... and there standing behind me were two poor men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I looked down at the short gentleman, close to me, he was "smiling."  His beautiful sky blue eyes were full of God's light as he searched for acceptance. He said, "Good day" as he counted the few coins he had been clutching. The second man fumbled with his hands as he stood behind his friend. I realized the second man was mentally deficient and the blue eyed gentle man was his salvation. I held my tears... as I stood there with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The young lady at the counter asked them what they wanted. The man doing the ordering said, "Coffee is all Miss." -- because that was all they could afford. To sit in the restaurant and warm up, they had to buy something...hey, they just wanted to be warm. Then I really felt it... the compulsion was so great I almost reached out and embraced the little man with his blue eyes. That is when I noticed all eyes in the restaurant were set on me... judging my every action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smiled and asked the young lady behind the counter to give me two more breakfast meals on a separate tray. I then walked around the corner to the table that the men had chosen as a resting spot. I put the tray on the  table and laid my hand on the blue eyed gentleman's cold hand. He looked up  at me, with tears in his eyes, and said, "Thank you." I leaned over, began to pat his hand and said, "I did not do this alone for you... God is here working through me to give you hope."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started to cry as I walked away to join my husband and son. When I sat down my husband smiled at me and said, "That is why God gave you to me honey... to give me hope." We held hands for moment and at that time we knew that only because of the Grace of God that we had been given, that we were able to give. We are not church goers but we are believers. That day showed me the pure Light of God's sweet love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I returned to college, on the last evening of class, with this story in hand. I turned in "my project" and the instructor read it... then she looked up at me and said, "may I share this?" I slowly nodded as she got the attention of the class. She began to read, and that is when I knew that we, as human beings and being part of God, share the need to help people and be helped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my own way I had touched the people at Mcdonald's, my husband, son, instructor, and every soul that shared the classroom on the last night I spent as a college student. I graduated with one of the biggest lessons I would ever learn... *UNCONDITIONAL ACCEPTANCE*. Much love and compassion is sent to each and every person who may read this. Learn how to *LOVE PEOPLE AND USE THINGS -- NOT LOVE THINGS AND USE PEOPLE*. If this true story has touched you in any way, please share it with a friend, so we all can  better practice the love that all great Masters  taught us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-17622665221067601?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/17622665221067601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/unconditional-acceptance.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/17622665221067601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/17622665221067601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/unconditional-acceptance.html' title='Unconditional Acceptance'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-7079859984302016294</id><published>2009-02-19T21:27:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T23:45:28.687-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am Thinking of Something</title><content type='html'>One rainy afternoon I was driving along one of the main streets of town, taking those extra precautions necessary when the roads are wet and slick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, my daughter,Aspen, spoke up from her relaxed position in her seat. "Dad, I'm thinking of something."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This announcement usually meant she had been pondering some fact for a while, and was now ready to expound all that her six-year-old mind had discovered. I was eager to hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you thinking?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/driving%20in%20the%20rain" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="driving in the rain Pictures, Images and Photos" src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y197/closing_time_/tennesse/4bf2878f.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The rain!" she began, "is like sin, and the windshield wipers are like God wiping our sins away."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the chill bumps raced up my arms I was able to respond. "That's really good, Aspen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my curiosity broke in. How far would this little girl take this revelation? So I asked... "Do you notice how t h e rain keeps on coming? What does that tell you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aspen didn't hesitate one moment with her answer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We keep on sinning, and God just keeps on forgiving us." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will always remember this whenever I turn my wipers on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-7079859984302016294?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/7079859984302016294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-am-thinking-of-something_19.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/7079859984302016294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/7079859984302016294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-am-thinking-of-something_19.html' title='I am Thinking of Something'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y197/closing_time_/tennesse/th_4bf2878f.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-5596431661739523243</id><published>2009-02-19T21:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T21:26:55.727-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stock Market</title><content type='html'>The Stock Market simply illustrated. ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time in a village, a man appeared and announced to the villagers that he would buy monkeys for Rs 10. The villagers seeing that there were many monkeys around, went out to the forest and started catching them. The man bought thousands at Rs10 and as supply started to diminish, the villagers stopped their effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He further announced that he would now buy at Rs20. This renewed the efforts of the villagers and they started catching monkeys again. Soon the supply diminished even further and people started going back to their farms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The offer rate increased to Rs25 and the supply of monkeys became so little that it was an effort to even see a monkey let alone catch it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man now announced that he would buy monkeys at Rs50! However, since he had to go to the city on some business, his assistant would now buy on behalf of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the absence of the man, the assistant told the villagers. Look at all these monkeys in the big cage that the man has collected. I will sell them to you at Rs 35 and when the man returns from the city, you can sell it to him for Rs50." The villagers squeezed up with all their savings to buy the monkeys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/monkeys%20group" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i172.photobucket.com/albums/w25/jjh4/Monkey/monkeylove.jpg" border="0" alt="Group of Monkeys Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they never saw the man nor his assistant, only monkeys everywhere !!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-5596431661739523243?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/5596431661739523243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/stock-market_19.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5596431661739523243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5596431661739523243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/stock-market_19.html' title='Stock Market'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i172.photobucket.com/albums/w25/jjh4/Monkey/th_monkeylove.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-3975130135649140866</id><published>2009-02-13T23:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T23:04:00.147-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Scars of Life</title><content type='html'>Some years ago, on a hot summer day, a little boy decided to go for a swim in the old swimming hole that was behind his house. In a hurry to dive into the cool water, he ran out the back door, leaving behind shoes, socks, and shirt as he went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/boy%20swimming" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i231.photobucket.com/albums/ee135/cbeckner_7707/kidsswimming9207002.jpg" border="0" alt="my swimming boy Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He flew into the water, not realizing that as he swam toward the middle of the lake, an alligator was swimming toward the shore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the house, his mother was looking out the window. She saw the two as they got closer and closer together. In utter fear, she ran toward the water, yelling to her son as loudly as she could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing her voice, the little boy became alarmed, and made a U-turn to swim to his mother. It was too late. Just as he reached her, the alligator reached him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the dock, the mother grabbed her little boy by the arms, just as the alligator snatched his legs. That began a very incredible tug-of-war between the two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The alligator was much stronger than the mother, but the mother was much too passionate to let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A farmer happened to drive by, heard her screams, raced from his truck, took aim, and shot the alligator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remarkably, after weeks and weeks in the hospital, the little boy survived. His legs were extremely scarred by the vicious attack of the animal. On his arms, there were deep scratches where his mother's fingernails dug into his flesh, in her effort to hang on to the son she loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The newspaper reporter, who interviewed the boy after the trauma, asked the boy if he would show him his scars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy lifted his pant legs. Then, with obvious pride, he said to the reporter, "But look at my arms. I have great scars on my arms, too. I have them because my Mom wouldn't let go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You and I can identify with that little boy. We have scars, too. No, not from an alligator, but the scars of a painful past. Some of those scars are unsightly, and have caused us deep regret. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, some wounds, my friend, are because God has refused to let go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the midst of your struggle, He's been right there, holding on to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Bible teaches that God loves you. You are a child of God. He wants to protect you, and provide for you in every way. But, sometimes, we foolishly wade into dangerous situations, not knowing what lies ahead. The swimming hole of life is filled with peril ~ and we forget that the enemy is waiting to attack. That is when the tug-of-war begins. If you have the scars of His love on your arms, be very, very grateful. He will not ever let you go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-3975130135649140866?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/3975130135649140866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/scars-of-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/3975130135649140866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/3975130135649140866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/scars-of-life.html' title='Scars of Life'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-9062006208981772367</id><published>2009-02-13T22:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T00:37:04.313-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Refining Silver</title><content type='html'>There was a group of women in a Bible study on the book of Malachi.  As they were studying Chapter Three, they came across Verse Three which says: "He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/fire%20and%20god" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i253.photobucket.com/albums/hh49/LOVEYOUJESUS/fire.jpg" border="0" alt="GOD LOVE Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This verse puzzled the women and they wondered what this statement meant about the character and nature of God. One of the women offered to find out about the process of refining silver and get back to the group at their next Bible study.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;That week this woman called up a silversmith and made an appointment to watch him at work. She didn't mention anything about the reason for her interest in silver beyond her curiosity about the process of refining silver. As she watched the silver smith, he held a piece of silver over the fire and let it heat up. He explained that in refining silver, one needed to hold the silver in the middle of the fire where the flames were hottest so as to burn away all the impurities.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The woman thought about God holding us in such a hot spot then she thought again about the verse, that says, "He sits as a refiner and purifier of silver". She asked the silversmith if it was true that he had to sit there in front of the fire the whole time the silver was being refined. The man answered that yes, he not only had to sit there holding the silver, but he had to keep his eyes on the silver the entire time it was in the fire. For if the silver was left even a moment too long in the flames, it would be destroyed.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The woman was silent for a moment. Then she asked the silver smith, how do you know when the silver is fully refined? He smiled at her and answered, "Oh, that's the easy part--when I see my image reflected in it."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;If today you are feeling the heat of the fire, remember that God has His eye on you and will keep His hand on you and watch over you until He sees His image in you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-9062006208981772367?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/9062006208981772367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/refining-silver.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/9062006208981772367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/9062006208981772367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/refining-silver.html' title='Refining Silver'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-8066967680598291899</id><published>2009-02-13T22:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T22:46:23.758-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Power of Thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/burning%20candle" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i119/adcorwin/candle.gif" border="0" alt="candle burning Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your words, your dreams, and your thoughts have power to create conditions in your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What you speak about, you can bring about!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you keep saying you can't stand your job, you might lose your job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you keep saying you can't stand your body, your body can become sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you keep saying you can't stand your car, your car could be stolen or just stop operating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you keep saying you're broke, guess what? You'll always be broke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you keep saying you can't trust a man or trust a woman, you will always find someone in your life to hurt and betray you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you keep saying you can't find a job, you will remain unemployed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you keep saying you can't find someone to love you or believe in you, your very thought will attract more experiences to confirm your beliefs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you keep talking about a divorce or break up in a relationship, then you might end up with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turn your thoughts and conversations around to be more positive and power packed with faith , hope , love and action . Don't be afraid to believe that you can have what you want and deserve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch your THOUGHTS, they become WORDS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch your WORDS, they become ACTIONS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch your ACTIONS, they become HABITS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch your HABITS, they become CHARACTER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch your CHARACTER, for it becomes your DESTINY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The minute you settle for less than you deserve, you get even less than you settle for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thought I would share this with you -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the search for ME, I discovered TRUTH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the search for TRUTH, I discovered LOVE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the search for LOVE, I discovered GOD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in GOD, I have found EVERYTHING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch how your circumstances and situations begin to change when you change the way you speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Life is like melted butter. . .once things cool down, it can be reshaped!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-8066967680598291899?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/8066967680598291899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/power-of-thought.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8066967680598291899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8066967680598291899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/power-of-thought.html' title='The Power of Thought'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-5129864169019368384</id><published>2009-02-13T22:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T22:33:41.794-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The True Value</title><content type='html'>A king once got separated from his kinsmen while chasing a deer. He wandered alone in the forest. As dusk fell, he knocked at the door of a tiny cottage in the jungle. It was opened by a poor woodcutter who gave the 'stranger' a warm welcome. He offered him his own bed to sleep along with some simple but tasty food. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the morning, while taking leave of the wood cutter, the king disclosed his real identity and asked him, what he could give in return for his hospitality. The wood cutter being a simpleton asked, " Can you give me a place where I can cut trees and sell them?" The king took him far away to the edge of another jungle and said, "This is yours from today. Do what you like with it." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wood cutter would cut trees and burn them to make coal, because they wer e too heavy for him to carry to the market place. Several months passed. The woodcutter was very happy. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;When the monsoon season started, there was heavy rainfall and the wood became wet. The ground was full of slush, so it was impossible to burn the wood to make coal. &lt;br /&gt;He had no choice but to carry the wet logs of wood to the market to sell it. When he showed the wood to the buyer, the buyer offered a sum that was a hundred times more than he was paying earlier. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/sandalwood" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk10/adorable_bear/Essential%20Oils/sandalwood.jpg" border="0" alt="Sandalwood_c Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The wood cutter was confused! Earlier he was supplying coal whereas now it was wood and that too, wet wood! Where was the catch? The buyer told him that the wood that he had brought was no ordinary wood, it was real Sandalwood! The wood cutter realized what a fool he had been. He had cut and burnt hundreds of Sandalwood trees to make coal, little realizing the value of this precious wood. Had he known, by now he could have been a very, very rich man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also need to understand the value of this precious human body awarded to us by Supreme Lord. Without realizing its importance and proper utility we are burning it at both ends in the fire of our worldly desires. Most of our energies are burnt in doing futile things that eventually have neither value nor meaning. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;But, by the time we realize that we are wasting our lives, it is perhaps too late. The whole life burnt in hoarding wealth, making friends and getting material pleasures, brings us to a miserable state at the end of life. At that time when nobody cares, we turn our face towards God, but where is the energy to do any devotion &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sooner we realize the better chance we shall have. Let's not waste our precious human birth like that foolish woodcutter. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The one who attains a permanent place in spiritual world using this temporary and perishable body is really intelligent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-5129864169019368384?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/5129864169019368384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/true-value.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5129864169019368384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5129864169019368384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/true-value.html' title='The True Value'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk10/adorable_bear/Essential%20Oils/th_sandalwood.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-2936139358985324144</id><published>2009-02-13T22:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T22:15:00.012-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sweeper</title><content type='html'>A highly uncultured peasant, of advanced age, comes to the doors of a monastery. When they open them, he explains himself like this," Friendly monks, I am a man with a lot of faith. I want to receive teachings." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The monks talk among themselves, at the side of the newly arrived. When they verify his lack of culture, they think that he is not able to receive teachings and much less methods of self-development, but since he seems a man of faith, they tell him, "Look, good man, you are going to be in charge of sweeping the monastery every day. You may stay here and will have room and board." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/sweeper" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i153.photobucket.com/albums/s226/realself/Sweeper-WEB.jpg" border="0" alt="Sweeper Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Months after, the monks start to see that each day the peasant is found more tranquil, with a semi-smile always drawn on his lips and a special shining in his eyes. He exhale true tranquility and is seen happy and balanced. It is so that the monks, bewildered, ask him,"Good man, it looks that during these months you have undergone a great spiritual evolution. Are you practicing any special method?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the man answers,"Brothers, the only thing I do, with a lot of attention, clarity and love, is to sweep the monastery. I put all my vigilance and precision in that one too, when sweeping the garbage I think that I am sweeping from myself the rancor, deceptions, greed and hatred. And each day I am happier."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-2936139358985324144?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/2936139358985324144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/sweeper.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2936139358985324144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2936139358985324144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/sweeper.html' title='The Sweeper'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-4317905302527234615</id><published>2009-02-13T20:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T21:00:24.834-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love is a journey, not a destination...</title><content type='html'>Love is what we are born with. Fear is what we learn.The spiritual journey is the unlearning of fear and prejudices and the acceptance of love back in our hearts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is the essential reality and our purpose on earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be consciously aware of it, to experience love in ourselves and others, is the meaning of life. Meaning does not lie in things. Meaning lies in us...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/love%20is%20a%20journey" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m212/DarkAgesXX/Love.jpg" border="0" alt="love is a journey Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A soul hears the beat of it's mother's heart...New eyes drink in the worlds beauty...First touches, first smells, first sounds...The journey has begun this love is new...The fluff of a kitten, the tickle of little whiskers...The touch of frozen flakes, bright drifts of white...Winds caress as a young body rushes on...The journey continues this love learns...The thrill of wheels to a young daredevil...A masterpiece displayed on the frig, pride...A hearts first crush so painful so thrilling...The journey gathers memories to treasure...Through life we collect the pieces of love...Memories, experiences the threads of love...Failures and successes the stength of love...The journey a magical tapestry of love...Then two souls on separate journeys meet...They feel the pull of having always known...So strong the need to belong, trust, be one...The journey now a duet, two tapestries unite...One love created from two collections of memories...One love created from two collections of experiences...One love created from two collections of successes...One journey now traveled hand in hand toward tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-4317905302527234615?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/4317905302527234615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/love-is-journey-not-destination.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4317905302527234615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4317905302527234615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/love-is-journey-not-destination.html' title='Love is a journey, not a destination...'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-7117966941947492154</id><published>2009-02-13T19:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T19:42:19.541-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Tea Cup</title><content type='html'>Love this story or not, you will not be able to have tea in a tea cup again without thinking of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a couple who took a trip to England to shop in a beautiful antique store to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary. They both liked antiques and pottery, and especially teacups.  Spotting an exceptional cup, they asked "May we see that?  We've never seen a cup quite so beautiful."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/tea%20cup" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i114.photobucket.com/albums/n251/purple-bean/tea-cup-polkared_large1.jpg" border="0" alt="tea cup Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the lady handed it to them, suddenly the teacup spoke, "You don't understand. I have not always been a teacup. There was a time when I was just a lump of red clay. My master took me and rolled me pounded and patted me over and over and I yelled out, "Don't do that." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't like it!" "Let me alone," but he only smiled, and gently said; "Not yet!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I was placed on a spinning wheel and suddenly I was spun around and around and around. "Stop it! I'm getting so dizzy!  I'm going to be sick!", I screamed. But the master only nodded and said, quietly; 'Not yet.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He spun me and poked and prodded and bent me out of shape to suit himself and then he put me in the oven. I never felt such heat. I yelled and knocked and pounded at the door. "Help! Get me out of here!" I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips as he shook his head from side to side, 'Not yet'.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I thought I couldn't bear it another minute, the door opened. He carefully took me out and put me on he shelf, and I began to cool. Oh, that felt so good! "Ah, this is much better," I thought. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, after I cooled he picked me up and he brushed and painted me all over The fumes were horrible. I thought I would gag. 'Oh, please, Stop it, Stop, I cried. He only shook his head and said. 'Not yet!'. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then suddenly he put me back in to the oven. Only it was not like the first one. This was twice as hot and I just knew I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I cried I was convinced I would never make it. I was ready to give up. Just then the door opened and he took me out and again placed me on the shelf, where I cooled and waited and waited, wondering "What's he going to do to me next?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An hour later he handed me a mirror and said 'Look at yourself.' And I did. I said, That's not me; that couldn't be me. It's beautiful. I'm beautiful!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quietly he spoke: 'I want you to remember, then,' he said, 'I know it hurt to be rolled and pounded and patted, but had I just left you alone, you'd have dried up. I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel, but if I had stopped, you would have crumbled. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it hurt and it was hot and disagreeable in the oven, but if I hadn't put you there, you would have cracked. I know the fumes were bad when I brushed and painted you all over, but if I hadn't done that, you never would have hardened. You would not have had any color in your life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I hadn't put you back in that second oven, you wouldn't have survived for long because the hardness would not have held. Now you are a finished product. Now you are what I had in mind when I first began with you.'" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moral of this story is this: God knows what He's doing for each of us. He is the potter, and we are His clay. He will mold us and make us and expose us to just enough pressures of just the right kinds that we may be made into a flawless piece of work to fulfill His good, pleasing and perfect will. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when life seems hard, and you are being pounded and patted and pushed almost beyond endurance; when your world seems to be spinning out of control; when you feel like you are in a fiery furnace of trials; when life seems to "stink", try this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brew a cup of your favorite tea in your prettiest tea cup, sit down and think on this story and then, have a little talk with the 'Potter'. . .you'll be glad you did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wishing you a day that is bright with the Lord's joy ! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is a gift from God...That is why it is called the present.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-7117966941947492154?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/7117966941947492154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/tea-cup.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/7117966941947492154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/7117966941947492154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/tea-cup.html' title='The Tea Cup'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-792923830299206738</id><published>2009-02-13T19:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T19:10:15.893-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Most Beautiful Heart</title><content type='html'>One day a young man was standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful heart in the whole valley. A large crowd gathered and they all admired his heart for it was perfect. There was not a mark or a flaw in it. Yes, they all agreed it truly was the most beautiful heart they had ever seen. The young man was very proud and boasted more loudly about his beautiful heart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said, why, your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine. The crowd and the young man looked at the old man's heart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/heart%20broken" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i297.photobucket.com/albums/mm207/L4lclover77/broken_heart.jpg" border="0" alt="Shattered Heart Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was beating strongly, but full of scars, it had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put in, but they did not fit quite right and there were several jagged edges. In fact, in some places there were deep gouges where whole pieces were missing. The people stared -- How can he say his heart is more beautiful, they thought?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The young man looked at the old man's heart, saw its state, and laughed. "You must be joking" he said. "Compare your heart with mine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mine is perfect and yours is a mass of scars and tears." "Yes," said the old man, "yours is perfect looking but I could never trade with you. You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love. I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them, and often they give me a piece of their heart, which fits into the empty place in my heart. Nevertheless, because the pieces are not exact, I have some rough edges, which I cherish, because they remind me of the love we shared. Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away, and the other person has not returned a piece of their heart to me. These are the empty gouges -- giving love is taking a chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too, and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting. So now do you see what true beauty is?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect young and beautiful heart, and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man with trembling hands. The old man took his offering, placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man's heart. It fit, but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges. The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore, but more beautiful than ever, since love from the old man's heart flowed into his. They embraced and walked away side by side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let everyone know each day how much they mean to you, they may be gone tomorrow. I am thankful that I do not have a perfect heart. Just think of all the love I would have missed. Remember; do not be afraid to show your love to those people who matter to you. It is what life is all about! We all miss too many opportunities and have &lt;br /&gt;too many regrets.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-792923830299206738?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/792923830299206738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/most-beautiful-heart.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/792923830299206738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/792923830299206738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/most-beautiful-heart.html' title='Most Beautiful Heart'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-5745038176299529678</id><published>2009-02-09T01:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T01:51:48.773-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/flowers" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i189.photobucket.com/albums/z160/calibeachbabe703/flowers.jpg" border="0" alt="flowers Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In everything, goodness is there, &lt;br /&gt;our goal is to find it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In every person, the best is there, &lt;br /&gt;our job is to recognise it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In every situation, the positive is there, &lt;br /&gt;our opportunity is to see it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In every problem, the solution is there, &lt;br /&gt;our responsibility is to provide it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In every setback, the success is there, &lt;br /&gt;our adventure is to discover it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In every crisis, the reason is there, &lt;br /&gt;our challenge is to understand it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By seeing the goodness, we'll be very &lt;br /&gt;enthusiastic and our lives will be &lt;br /&gt;all the richer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-5745038176299529678?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/5745038176299529678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/goodness_09.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5745038176299529678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5745038176299529678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/goodness_09.html' title='Goodness'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-5082619759368999042</id><published>2009-02-09T01:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T01:58:11.463-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Journey of Love...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/journey%20of%20love" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb196/cdstockton_2007/Love/l_b406ee7bb71dac04e8b0ed9598fa2b50.jpg" border="0" alt="Journey of Love Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Journey to Kindness and Compassion...Is a road we all need to walk in order to better our mind, body and spirit. All throughout our lives we take several journeys, some are large and cover the entire world on a physical level, while some are small, internal journeys where we walk along in search of our identity, our life path and our spirit. The internal path seems to be, in my own opinion, possibly the most ignored of all our paths. The Love Journey is the most important journey we can make in our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, what is the Love Journey? It's an internal road that we can all walk in order to escape the daily bombardment of hate that we all face in the media, in the confusion of terrorist attacks, and in the despair of war. Sadly, most rampant is the hate that we show to those who live closest to us, our families, our neighbours, those we should care more about but neglect anyways; we even hate ourselves and our body image, constantly avoiding food while we slowly allow our bodies to die in starvation. These are only a few of the passive-aggressive ways in which we show hate. Whether you agree that these are examples of hate on a level with terrorists and war, these are simply a few examples that affect our daily lives and cause damage to our internal selves and, if not treated, to our spirits as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although it may seem like an easy journey to make, the Love Journey could prove to be one of the hardest, rockiest roads for you if you've had your heart hardened due to hate. Hate can be born of several of the following elements: abuse, disapproval, anger, frustration, depression, self-loathing, societal-loathing, fear, and many more. The encouraging thing to understand is that although you may have experienced hate before, there is a way to get past it and move into the loving part of your spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you find Love inside when you've been privy to Hate for so long? This isn't an easy question to answer because we are all so diverse in our beliefs, our culture and in our experiences. A good starting point is to look into yourself and see that there is something in there that holds beautiful qualities. How many times have you found yourself putting yourself down in just one day, let alone one year? Imagine how hard it would be to show love to others when you cannot show love to yourself. Now imagine how happy you would be if started complimenting yourself instead of hurting yourself. You can come up with some ideas on how you can allow your inner self to grow through self-love, here are a few examples; feel free to alter them to fit your own needs if you'd like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speak to yourself in front of a mirror, highlighting a few of the aspects of yourself that you love and affirm (out loud): "I love myself because ____________." Fill in the blank with your own response. There are other affirmations which you can discover on your own or in several meditation and self-love books. This is known as a Mirror Exercise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give yourself time for rest and relaxation, meditate and write a list of your love or life goals and how you wish to achieve them. Visualize yourself meeting those goals and write down how you will feel once those goals are achieved. After some progress go back and read your list and see how you've changed, write down your progress and comment on your journey and how you feel to date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep a private journal and explore your inner self through writing. Be open to writing about the good and bad things, things you love and the things that make you uncomfortable. If you find there is something in life that make you uneasy ask yourself "why" and make an effort to discover what it is and make amends with it. Love comes out of understanding; although it's not always easy, when discomfort is addressed you might feel a wave of liberation due to letting go of what you had trouble with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I mentioned before, if these examples seem so easy, you might find that you are mistaken. The Love Journey is not simple, it does not pass overnight, but do not find discouragement in this because you too can find love inside for yourself and others; allow patience and compassion to melt your heart. The Love Journey is a beautiful thing in its difficulty because it allows you stir up all notions of who you thought you were, who you find yourself to really be, and the dirt and grime you find yourself cleaning off in the course of the journey. I'm still walking my journey, but I've passed the point of seeing love and compassion inside of my spirit, but I still have miles to go before I rest because I am willing to walk this road until I die; I know there are things in me that I still need to get through. I've started my journey and I am in awe of the beauty of life everyday because I view the world through a window of love.  When you're ready to start your own Love journey, you'll find the best way to start is to take a step outside your comfort zone and start walking; your steps might be leaps or baby steps, but feel peace knowing that you are making an effort to better yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Version 2 of Love is dedicated to the journey to love, kindness and compassion, making the first step of many, acknowledging that there is a step to make, and learning that it is okay to stumble along the path, just get back up and keep walking; feel peace in knowing that we'll get there together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With Love and Smiles...Dhyantirth&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-5082619759368999042?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/5082619759368999042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/journey-of-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5082619759368999042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5082619759368999042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/journey-of-love.html' title='The Journey of Love...'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb196/cdstockton_2007/Love/th_l_b406ee7bb71dac04e8b0ed9598fa2b50.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-6756519845580994719</id><published>2009-02-09T01:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T01:41:31.788-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Feathers</title><content type='html'>There was a man who slandered a friend, all because of the envy he had on him for the success he had reached. Time after, he repented of the ruin he brought with his calumnies on that friend, and he visited a highly wise man to whom he said,"I want to fix all the evil I did to my friend, how can I do it?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; To what the man responded, "Take a sack full of small and light feathers and get one loose on any place you go."The man very happy for that so easy thing took the sack full of feathers and at the end of one day he had turned them all loose. He returned to the sage and said, "I have finished. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To this the sage answered," That is the easiest part. Now you have to go back to fill the sack with the same feathers you've got lost. Go the the road and search for them."The man felt very sad since he knew what that meant and could not find almost anything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When returning, the wise man said to him,"As you could not get again the feathers which flew with the wind, likewise the evil you did flew from mouth to mouth and the damage is already done."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So forgiveness is the only thing that will make your sack filled with feathers again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-6756519845580994719?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/6756519845580994719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/feathers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6756519845580994719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6756519845580994719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/feathers.html' title='The Feathers'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-8780824373151632821</id><published>2009-02-09T01:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T04:06:20.442-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dimond Ring</title><content type='html'>A married lady was expecting a birthday gift from her husband. For many months she had admired a beautiful diamond ring in a showroom,and knowing her husband could afford it, she told him that was all she wanted. As her birthday approached, this lady awaited signs that her husband had purchased the diamond ring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, on the morning of her birthday, her husband called her into his studyroom. Her husband told her how proud he was to have such a good wife, and told her how much he loved her. He handed her a beautiful wrapped gift box. Curious, the wife opened the box and found a lovely leather-bound Bible, with the wife's name embossed in gold. Angrily she raised her voice to her husband and said, "With all your money you give me a Bible?" and stormed out of the house, leaving her husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many years passed and the married lady was very successful in business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She managed to settle for a more beautiful house and a wonderful family, but realized her ex-husband was very old, and thought perhaps she should go to visit him. She had not seen him for many years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But before she could make arrangements, she received a telegram telling her that her ex-husband had passed away, and willed all of his possessions to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*She needed to come back immediately and take care of things.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she arrived at her ex-husband's house, sudden sadness and regret filled her heart. She began to search through her ex-husband's important papers and saw the still new Bible, just as she had left it years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/bible%20in%20the%20hand" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i304.photobucket.com/albums/nn200/spurwink/DSC02172.jpg" border="0" alt="bible in the hand Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With tears, she opened the Bible and began to turn the pages. Her ex-husband had carefully underlined a verse, Matt 7:11, "**And if you being evil know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more shall your Heavenly Father which is in heaven, give to those who ask Him?"** As she read those words, a tiny package dropped from the back of the Bible. It had a diamond ring with her name engraved on it. It was the s ame diamond ring she had seen at the showroom. On the tag was the date of her birth and the words...'LUV U ALWAYS'...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the story: God's ways are not our ways&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many times do we miss God's blessings because they are not packaged as we expected? I trust you enjoyed this. Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; but remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for...*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IF YOUR GIFT IS NOT PACKED THE WAY YOU WANT IT, IT'S BECAUSE IT IS BETTER PACKED THAT WAY!!! ALWAYS APPRECIATE LITTLE THINGS.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-8780824373151632821?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/8780824373151632821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/dimond-ring_09.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8780824373151632821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8780824373151632821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/dimond-ring_09.html' title='The Dimond Ring'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-2223974470143898106</id><published>2009-02-08T19:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T19:38:20.575-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Never Give up</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/dont%20give%20up" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/1003/gaiterbug/Dont_Give_Up.jpg" border="0" alt="Never Give Up Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Failure and Success is in everyone's cup &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rain becomes more enjoyable if it follows a sunny day &lt;br /&gt;Food become more relishing if for days Hungry you stay &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, don't ever give up &lt;br /&gt;Failure and Success is in everyone's cup &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gold becomes beautiful ornament by molding and heating &lt;br /&gt;Marble becomes beautiful status by carving and beating &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, don't ever give up &lt;br /&gt;Failure and Success is in everyone's cup &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pebble becomes smooth by constant rolling &lt;br /&gt;Pencil becomes usable by sharpening &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, don't ever give up &lt;br /&gt;Failure and Success is in everyone's cup&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-2223974470143898106?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/2223974470143898106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/never-give-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2223974470143898106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2223974470143898106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/never-give-up.html' title='Never Give up'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-1900098997675176658</id><published>2009-02-08T19:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T23:09:26.826-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Yellow Roses</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/yellow%20roses" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Yellow Roses Pictures, Images and Photos" src="http://i156.photobucket.com/albums/t9/KavinVijay/Roses/yellowrose.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I walked into the grocery store not particularly interested in buying groceries. I wasn't hungry. The pain of losing my husband of 57 years was still too raw. And this grocery store held so many sweet memories.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He often came with me and almost every time he'd pretend to go off and look for something special. I knew what he was up to. I'd always spot him walking down the aisle with the three yellow roses in his hands. He knew I loved yellow roses. With a heart filled with grief, I only wanted to buy my few items and leave, but even grocery shopping was different since he had passed on. Shopping for one took time, a little morethought than it had for two.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Standing by the meat, I searched for the perfect small steak and remembered how he had loved his steak. Suddenly a woman came beside me. She was blonde, slim and lovely in a soft green pantsuit. I watched as she picked up a large package of T-bones, dropped them in her basket.. hesitated, and then put them back. She turned to go and once again reached for the pack of steaks. She saw me watching her and she smiled. "My husband loves T-bones, but honestly, at these prices, I don't know." I swallowed the emotion down my throat and met her pale blue eyes. "My husband passed away eight days ago," I told her. Glancing at thepackage in her hands, I fought to control the tremble in my voice. "Buy him the steaks. And cherish every moment you have together." She shook her head and I saw the emotion in her eyes as she placed the package in her basket and wheeled away. I turned and pushed my cart across the length of the store to the dairy products. There I stood, trying to decide which size milk I should buy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A Quart, I finally decided and moved on to the ice cream. If nothing else, I could always fix myself an ice cream cone. I placed the ice cream in my cart and looked down the aisle toward the front. I saw first the green suit, then recognized the pretty lady coming towards me. In her arms she carried a package. On her face was the brightest smile I had ever seen. I would swear a soft halo encircled her blonde hair as she kept walking towards me, her eyes holding mine. As she came closer, I saw what she held and tears began misting in my eyes. "These are for you," she said and placed three beautiful long stemmed yellow roses in my arms. "When you go through the line, they will know these are paid for." She leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek, then smiled again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/yellow%20roses" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="yellow roses Pictures, Images and Photos" src="http://i120.photobucket.com/albums/o164/chrissyownss/Roses.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to tell her what she'd done, what the roses meant, but still unable to speak, I watched as she walked away as tears clouded my vision. I looked down at the beautiful roses nestled in the green tissue wrapping and found it almost unreal. How did she know? Suddenly the answer seemed so clear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" style="background-color:#FFFFFF;border:1px solid #ff0000;"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.scrapu.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i213.photobucket.com/albums/cc78/myscrado/mscl/s-632099.jpg" alt="Musical Miss You Song Scraps Comments Graphics" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;  &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://i241.photobucket.com/albums/ff17/tucmuc/music/tyadoat.swf" height="60" width="130" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.scrapu.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't alone. Oh, you haven't forgotten me, have you? I whispered, with tears in my eyes. He was still with me, and she was his angel. Every day be thankful for what you have and who you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a simple request…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you appreciate life, send this to your friends. Even though I clutch my blanket and growl when the alarm rings. Thank you, Lord, that I can hear. There are many who are deaf. Even though I keep my eyes closed against the morning light as long as possible. Thank you, Lord , that I can see. Many are blind..Even though I huddle in my bed and put off rising. Thank you, Lord, that I have the strength to rise. There are many who are bedridden. Even though the first hour of my day is hectic, when socks are lost, toast is burned, tempers are short, and my children are so loud. Thank you, Lord, for my family. There are many who are lonely. Even though our breakfast table never looks like the picture in magazines and the menu is at times unbalanced. Thank you, Lord, for the food we have. There are many who are hungry. Even though the routine of my job often is monotonous. Thank you, Lord, for the opportunity to work. There are many who have no job. Even though I grumble and bemoan my fate from day to day and wish my circumstances were not so modest, I thank you, Lord, for life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pass this on to the friends you know. It might help a bit to make this world a better place to live, right? A friend is someone we turn to when our spirits need a lift. A friend is someone to treasure. For friendship is a gift. A friend is someone who fills our lives with Beauty, Joy and Grace and makes the world we live in a better and happier place. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-1900098997675176658?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/1900098997675176658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/three-yellow-roses_08.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/1900098997675176658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/1900098997675176658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/three-yellow-roses_08.html' title='Three Yellow Roses'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i156.photobucket.com/albums/t9/KavinVijay/Roses/th_yellowrose.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-5735312633697530839</id><published>2009-02-06T02:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T03:36:39.939-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Deep Silent Love</title><content type='html'>From the very Beginning, the girl's family objected strongly on her dating this guy. Saying that it has got to do with family background &amp; that the girl will have to suffer for the rest of her life if she were to be with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to family's pressure, the couple quarrel very often. Though the girl love the guy deeply, but she always ask him: "How deep is your love for me?" As the guy is not good with his words, this often cause the girl to be very upset. With that &amp; the family's pressure, the girl often vent her anger on him. As for him, he only endure it in silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a couple of years, the guy finally graduated &amp; decided to further his studies in overseas. Before leaving, he proposed to the girl: "I'm not very good with words. But all I know is that I love you. If you allow me, I will take care of you for the rest of my life. As for your family, I'll try my best to talk them round. Will you marry me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl agreed, &amp; with the guy's determination, the family finally gave in &amp; agreed to let them get married. So before he leave, they got engaged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl went out to the working society, whereas the guy was overseas, continuing his studies. They sent their love through emails &amp; phone calls. Though it's hard, but both never thought of giving up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;table align="center" style="background-color:#000000;border:1px solid #ff0000;"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.scrapu.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i213.photobucket.com/albums/cc78/myscrado/mscl/steri4.jpg" alt="Musical Day MP3 Song Scraps Comments Graphics" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;  &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://i241.photobucket.com/albums/ff17/tucmuc/music/steriat.swf" height="36" width="170" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.scrapu.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, while the girl was on her way to work, she was knocked down by a car that lost control. When she woke up, she saw her parents beside her bed. She realized that she was badly injured. Seeing her mum crying, she wanted to comfort her. But she realized that all that could come out of her mouth was just a sigh. She has lost her voice......The doctors says that the impact on her brain has caused her to lose her voice. Listening to her parents' comfort, but with nothing coming out from her, she broke down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the stay in hospital, besides silence cry,...it's still just silence cry that companied her. Upon reaching home, everything seems to be the same. Except for the ringing tone of the phone. Which pierced into her heart every time it rang. She does not wish to let the guy know and not wanting to be a burden to him, she wrote a letter to him saying that she does not wish to wait any longer. With that, she sent the ring back to him. In return, the guy sent millions and millions of reply, and countless of phone calls,... all the girl could do, besides crying, is still crying....The parents decided to move away, hoping that she could eventually forget everything and be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a new environment, the girl learn sign language and started a new life. Telling herself everyday that she must forget the guy. One day, her friend came and told her that he's back. She asked her friend not to let him know what happened to her. Since then, there wasn't anymore news of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A year has passed &amp; her friend came with an envelope, containing an invitation card for the guy's wedding. The girl was shattered. When she open the letter, she saw her name in it instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she was about to ask her friend what's going on, she saw the guy standing in front of her. He used sign language telling her "I've spent a year's time to learn sign language. Just to let you know that I've not forgotten our promise. Let me have the chance to be your voice. I Love You. With that, he slipped the ring back into her finger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl finally smiled.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-5735312633697530839?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/5735312633697530839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/deep-silent-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5735312633697530839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5735312633697530839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/deep-silent-love.html' title='Deep Silent Love'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i213.photobucket.com/albums/cc78/myscrado/mscl/th_steri4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-6345015311053073891</id><published>2009-02-06T02:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T20:08:37.564-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fruit</title><content type='html'>There were once a group of three lost men in the mountain and they only had a fruit to feed all of three, who were almost fainting from starvation. Then God appeared to them and told them he would test their wisdom and depending on what they would show would save them. So God asked them what may they ask Him to fix that problem and get everybody fed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/apple%20in%20the%20hand" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v502/anything_goes88/Graphics/Artwork/MyApple.jpg" border="0" alt="This apple was painted completely by hand in Paint Shop Pro. As you can see, my hand started to hurt and I did not spend very much time on the stem. Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one said: "Then make appear more food", God answered that it was an answer with no wisdom, since you should not ask God that magically make appear the solution to problems without working with what we have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second one said then: "So make the fruit grow to make it enough", to which God answered no, since the solution is not to ask always the multiplication of what we have to fix the problem, since the human being can never be satisfied and therefore it would never be enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third one then said: "My good God, even though we are hungry and we are proud, make us small ourselves so the fruit would be enough". God said: "You have answered right, since when man makes himself humble and small before my eyes, he will see prosperity".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Know that it is always taught that somebody else fix the problems or to look for the easy way out, always asking God to fix everything without us changing or sacrificing anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is why so many times it seems God does not listen to us since we ask without letting anything be left aside and always wanting to win. Many times we are selfish and want always everything for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will be happy the day when we learn that the way to ask God is by seeing ourselves as weak, and by being humble leaving our pride aside. And we will see that by making us small in luxuries and by being time at heart we will see prosperity from God and see the way how He does listen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-6345015311053073891?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/6345015311053073891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/fruit.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6345015311053073891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6345015311053073891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/fruit.html' title='The Fruit'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-8574956089419401763</id><published>2009-02-06T02:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T19:59:07.220-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Angels</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/two%20angels" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i232.photobucket.com/albums/ee251/Rumiwater/TwoAngels.jpg" border="0" alt="Two Angels Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two travelling angels stopped to spend the night in the home of a wealthy family. The family was rude and refused to let the angels stay in the mansion's guest room. Instead the angels were given a small space in the cold basement. As they made their bed on the hard floor, the older angel saw a hole in the wall and repaired it. When the younger angel asked why, the older angel replied, "Things aren't always what they seem"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next night the pair came to rest at the house of a very poor, but very hospitable farmer and his wife. After sharing what little food they had the couple let the angels sleep in their bed where they could have a good night's rest. When the sun came up the next morning the angels found the farmer and his wife in tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their only cow, whose milk had been their sole income, lay dead in the field. The younger angel was infuriated and asked the older angel how could you have let this happen? The first man had everything, yet you helped him, she accused. The second family had little but was willing to share everything, and you let the cow die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Things aren't always what they seem the older angel replied. "When we stayed in the basement of the mansion, I noticed there was gold stored in that hole in the wall. Since the owner was so obsessed with greed and unwilling to share his good fortune, I sealed the wall so he wouldn't find it." "Then last night as we slept in the farmers bed, the angel of death came for his wife. I gave him the cow instead. Things aren't always what they seem."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes that is exactly what happens when things don't turn out the way they should. If you have faith, you just need to trust that every outcome is always to your advantage. You might not know it until some time later...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-8574956089419401763?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/8574956089419401763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/two-angels.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8574956089419401763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8574956089419401763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/two-angels.html' title='Two Angels'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-7562154594277317594</id><published>2009-02-06T01:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T20:04:54.109-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Singing Birds</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/girl%20and%20birds" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i479.photobucket.com/albums/rr156/Gothic_RainStorm/Groups/Pets/Pet0007.jpg" border="0" alt="Girl w/ 2 Birds Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was once a lonely girl who longed desperately for love. One day while she was walking in the woods she found two starving song birds. She took them home and put them in a small glided cage. She nurtured them with love and the birds grew strong. Every morning they greeted her with a marvellous song. The girl felt great love for the birds. She wanted their singing to last forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day the girl left the door to the cage open. The larger and stronger of the two birds flew from the cage. The girl watched anxiously as he circled high above her. She was so frightened that he would fly away and she would never see him again that as he flew close, she grasped at him wildly. She caught him in her fist. She clutched him tightly within her hand. Her heart gladened at her sucess in capturing him. Suddenly she felt the bird go limp. She opened her hand stared in horror at the dead bird. Her desperate clutching love had killed him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She noticed the other bird teteering on the edge of the cage. She could feel his great need for freedom. His need to soar into the clear, blue sky. She lifted him from the cage and tossed him softly into the air. The bird circled once, twice, three times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl watched delighted at the bird's enjoyment. Her heart was no longer concerned with her loss. She wanted the bird to be happy. Suddenly the bird flew closer and landed softly on her shoulder. It sang the sweetest melody, she had ever heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fastest way to lose love is to hold on too tight, the best way to keep love is to give it -- WINGS!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-7562154594277317594?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/7562154594277317594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/singing-birds.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/7562154594277317594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/7562154594277317594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/singing-birds.html' title='The Singing Birds'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-2981937918942988735</id><published>2009-02-06T01:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T01:49:14.160-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pond Full of Milk</title><content type='html'>Once there was a king who told some of his workers to dig a pond. Once the pond was dug, the king made an announcement to his people saying that one person from each household has to bring a glass of milk during the night and pour it into the pond. So, the pond should be full of milk by the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After receiving the order, everyone went home. One man prepared to take the milk during the night. He thought that since everyone will bring milk, he could just hide a glass of water and pour inside the pond. Because it will be dark at night, no one will notice. So he quickly went and poured the water in the pond and came back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the morning, the king came to visit the pond and to his surprise the pond was only filled with water!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What has happened is that everyone was thinking like the other man that "I don't have to put the milk, someone else will do it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear friends, when it comes to help poor people, do not think that others will take care of it.&lt;br /&gt;Rather, it starts from you. If you don't do it, no one else will. So, change yourself to the way of God to serve Him and that will make the difference.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-2981937918942988735?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/2981937918942988735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/pond-full-of-milk.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2981937918942988735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2981937918942988735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/pond-full-of-milk.html' title='The Pond Full of Milk'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-8837449455258776315</id><published>2009-02-06T01:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T03:13:42.243-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Power of Healing</title><content type='html'>Like any good mother, when Karen found out that another baby was on the way, she did what she could to help her 3-year-old son, Michael, prepare for a new sibling. They found out that the new baby was going be a girl, and day after day, night after night, Michael sang to his sister in Mommy's tummy. He was building a bond of love with his little sister before he even met her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pregnancy progressed normally for Karen. In time, the labor pains came. Soon it was every five minutes, every three, every minute. But serious complications arose during delivery and Karen found herself in hours of labor. Would a C-section be required?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, after a long struggle, Michael's little sister was born. But she was in very serious condition. With a siren howling in the night, the ambulance rushed the infant to the neonatal intensive care unit at Mary's Hospital, Knoxville, Tennessee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The days inched by. The little girl got worse. The pediatrician had to tell the parents there is very little hope. Be prepared for the worst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Karen and her husband contacted a local cemetery about a burial plot. They had fixed up a special room in their house for their new baby but now they found themselves having to plan for a funeral.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/little%20sister" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i96.photobucket.com/albums/l177/tigercleo/Elise%20Christine%20Flude%20OWEN/DSC06390.jpg" border="0" alt="Joshy and his little sister Elise Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael, however, kept begging his parents to let him see his sister. "I want to sing to her", he kept saying. Week two in intensive care looked as if a funeral would come before the week was over. Michael kept nagging about singing to his sister, but kids are never allowed in Intensive Care. Karen decided to take Michael whether they liked it or not. If he didn't see his sister right then, he may never see her alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She dressed him in an oversized scrub suit and marched him into ICU. He looked like a walking laundry basket. The head nurse recognized him as a child and bellowed, "Get that kid out of here now. No children are allowed." The mother rose up strong in Karen, and the usually mild-mannered lady glared steel-eyed right into the head nurse's face, her lips a firm line, "He is not leaving until he sings to his sister" she stated. Then Karen towed Michael to his sister's bedside.&lt;br /&gt;He gazed at the tiny infant losing the battle to live. After a moment, he began to sing. In the pure-hearted voice of a 3-year-old, Michael sang:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray." Instantly the baby girl seemed to respond. The pulses rate began to calm down and become steady. "Keep on singing, Michael," encouraged Karen with tears in her eyes. "You never know, dear, how much I love you, please don't take my sunshine away."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Michael sang to his sister, the baby's ragged, strained breathing became as smooth as a kitten's purr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Keep on singing, sweetheart."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms".  Michael's little sister began to relax as rest, healing rest, seemed to sweep over her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Keep on singing, Michael." Tears had now conquered the face of the bossy head nurse. Karen glowed. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. Please don't Take my sunshine away..."&lt;br /&gt;The next, day...the very next day...the little girl was well enough to go home. Woman's Day Magazine called it The Miracle of a Brother's Song. The medical staff just called it a miracle. Karen called it a miracle of God's love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NEVER GIVE UP ON THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE. LOVE IS SO INCREDIBLY POWERFUL.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-8837449455258776315?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/8837449455258776315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/power-of-healing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8837449455258776315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8837449455258776315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/power-of-healing.html' title='The Power of Healing'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i96.photobucket.com/albums/l177/tigercleo/Elise%20Christine%20Flude%20OWEN/th_DSC06390.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-355626466893926439</id><published>2009-02-06T01:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T23:09:07.022-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Do we really Love God ?</title><content type='html'>A young lady named Sally relates an experience she had in a seminary class given by her teacher, Dr. Smith. She says that Dr. Smith was known for his elaborate object lessons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One particular day, Sally walked into the seminary and knew they were in for a fun day. On the wall was a big target and on a nearby table were many darts. Dr. Smith told the students to draw a picture of someone that they disliked or someone who had made them angry, and he would allow them to throw darts at the person's picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sally's friend drew a picture of who had stolen her boyfriend. Another friend drew a picture of his little brother. Sally drew a picture of a former friend, putting a great deal of detail into her drawing, even drawing pimples on the face. Sally was pleased with the overall effect she had achieved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/throwing%20dart" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i48.photobucket.com/albums/f249/Kas2art/Cool%20People/DSCF0406.jpg" border="0" alt="Rachel throwing a dart haha Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The class lined up and began throwing darts. Some of the students threw their darts with such a great force that their targets were ripping apart. Sally looked forward to her turn, and was filled with disappointment when Dr. Smith, because of time limits, asked the students to return to their seats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Sally sat thinking about how angry she was because she didn't have a chance to throw any darts at her target. Dr. Smith began removing the target from the wall. Underneath the target was a picture of Jesus. A hush fell over the room as each student viewed the mangled picture of Jesus; holes and jagged marks covered His face and His eyes were pierced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Smith said only these words... "In as much as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto Me." Matthew 25:40. (Holy Bible)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other words, "Whatever good or bad you do to any one......you have done all those things to God."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No other words were necessary; tears filled the eyes of all the students and they focused only on the picture of Christ.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-355626466893926439?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/355626466893926439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/do-we-really-love-god.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/355626466893926439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/355626466893926439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/do-we-really-love-god.html' title='Do we really Love God ?'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i48.photobucket.com/albums/f249/Kas2art/Cool%20People/th_DSCF0406.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-4423658381220262232</id><published>2009-02-06T01:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T21:17:22.183-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Smell of Rain</title><content type='html'>At the end of this story, it gives you two options. I think you will figure out what option I chose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/rain" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh275/bh_tattoo/chonhau1nucuoi-51466--rain.gif" border="0" alt="raining Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cold March wind danced around the dead of night in Dallas as the  doctor walked into the small hospital room of Diana Blessing. She was still groggy from surgery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her husband, David, held her hand as they braced themselves for the latest news. That afternoon of March 10, 1991 , complications had forced Diana, only 24-weeks pregnant, to undergo an emergency Cesarean to deliver couple's new daughter, Dana Lu Blessing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 12 inches long and weighing only one pound nine ounces, they already knew she was perilously premature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, the doctor's soft words dropped like bombs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't think she's going to make it," he said, as kindly as he could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There's only a 10-percent chance she will live through the night, and even then, if by some slim chance she does make it, her future could be a very cruel one"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Numb with disbelief, David and Diana listened as the doctor described the devastating problems Dana would likely face if she survived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She would never walk, she would never talk, she would probably be blind, and she would certainly be prone to other catastrophic conditions from cerebral palsy to complete mental retardation, and on and on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No! No!" was all Diana could say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She and David, with their 5-year-old son Dustin, had long dreamed of the day they would have a daughter to become a family of four.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, within a matter of hours, that dream was slipping away. But as those first days passed, a new agony set in for David and Diana. Because Dana's underdeveloped nervous system was essentially 'raw', the lightest kiss or caress only intensified her discomfort, so they couldn't even cradle their tiny baby girl against their chests to offer the strength of their love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All they could do, as Dana struggled alone beneath the ultraviolet light in the tangle of tubes and wires, was to pray that God would stay close to their precious little girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was never a moment when Dana suddenly grew stronger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as the weeks went by, she did slowly gain an ounce of weight here and an ounce of strength there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At last, when Dana turned two months old. her parents were able to hold her in their arms for the very first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And two months later, though doctors continued to gently but grimly warn that her chances of surviving, much less living any kind of normal life, were next to zero, Dana went home from the hospital, just as her mother had predicted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five years later, when Dana was a petite but feisty young girl with glittering gray eyes and an unquenchable zest for life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She showed no signs whatsoever of any mental or physical impairment. Simply, she was everything a little girl can be and more. But that happy ending is far from the end of her story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One blistering afternoon in the summer of 1996 near her home in Irving , Texas , Dana was sitting in her mother's lap in the bleachers of a local ball park where her brother Dustin's baseball team was practicing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As always, Dana was chattering nonstop with her mother and several other adults sitting nearby when she suddenly fell silent . Hugging her arms across her chest, little Dana asked, "Do you smell that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smelling the air and detecting the approach of a thunderstorm, Diana replied, "Yes, it smells like rain."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dana closed her eyes and again asked, "Do you smell that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, her mother replied, "Yes, I think we're about to get wet. It smells like rain."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still caught in the moment, Dana shook her head, patted her thin shoulders with her small hands and loudly announced, "No, it smells like Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It smells like God when you lay your head on His chest."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tears blurred Diana's eyes as Dana happily hopped down to play with the other children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the rains came, her daughter's words confirmed what Diana and all the members of the extended Blessing family had known, at least in their hearts, all along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During those long days and nights of her first two months of her life, when her nerves were too sensitive for them to touch her, God was holding Dana on His chest and it is His loving scent that she remembers so well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God always hold us&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-4423658381220262232?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/4423658381220262232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/smell-of-rain.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4423658381220262232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4423658381220262232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/smell-of-rain.html' title='The Smell of Rain'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-1927606110137056380</id><published>2009-02-06T01:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T19:32:06.320-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus and Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;She jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She said: "How is my little boy? Is he going to be all right? When can I see him?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The surgeon said, "I'm sorry. We did all we could, but your boy didn't make it." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sally said, "Why do little children get cancer? Doesn't God care any more? Where were you, God, when my son needed you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The surgeon asked, "Would you like some time alone with your son?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One of the nurses will be out in a few minutes, before he's transported to the university."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while she said good bye to her son. She ran her fingers lovingly through his thick red curly hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Would you like a lock of his hair?" the nurse asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sally nodded yes. The nurse cut a lock of the boy's hair, put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Sally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The mother said, "It was Jimmy's idea to donate his body to the University for Study. He said it might help somebody else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"I said no at first, but Jimmy said, 'Mom, I won't be using it after I die. Maybe it will help some other little boy spend one more day with his Mom."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She went on, "My Jimmy had a heart of gold. Always thinking of someone else. Always wanting to help others if he could."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sally walked out of Children's Mercy Hospital for the last time, after spending most of the last six months there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She put the bag with Jimmy's belongings on the seat beside her in the car. The drive home was difficult. It was even harder to enter the empty house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She carried Jimmy's belongings, and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her son's room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She started placing the model cars and other personal things back in his room exactly where he had always kept them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She laid down across his bed and, hugging his pillow, cried herself to sleep. It was around midnight when Sally awoke. Laying beside her on the bed was a folded letter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/reading%20letter" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i13.photobucket.com/albums/a254/lilkitch6/vicki%20and%20I/readinglukesnotetovicki.jpg" border="0" alt="reading luke\'s letter Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The letter said: "Dear Mom, I know you're going to miss me; but don't think that I will ever forget you, or stop loving you, just 'cause I'm not around to say "I Love You" .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I will always love you, Mom, even more with each day. Someday we will see each other again. Until then, if you want to adopt a little boy so you won't be so lonely, that's okay with me. He can have my room and old stuff to play with. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But, if you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn't like the same things us boys do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, you know. Don't be sad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and Grandpa met me as soon as I go t here and showed me around some, but it will take a long time to see everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The angels are so cool. I love to watch them fly. And, you know what? Jesus doesn't look like any of his pictures. Yet, when I saw Him, I knew it was Him. Jesus himself took me to see GOD! And guess what, Mom? I got to sit on God's knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That's when I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you good bye and everything. But I already knew that wasn't allowed. Well, you know what Mom? God handed me some paper and His own personal pen to write you this letter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I think Gabriel is the name of the angel who is going to drop this letter off to you. God said for me to give you the answer to one of the questions you asked Him 'Where was He when I needed him?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"God said He was in the same place with me, as when His son Jesus was on the cross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was right there, as He always is with all His children. Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see what I've written except you. To everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn't that cool? I have to give God His pen back now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He needs it to write some more names in the Book of Life. Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I'm sure the food will be great. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I don't hurt anymore. The cancer is all gone. I'm glad because I couldn't stand that pain anymore and God couldn't stand to see me hurt so much, either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That's when He sent The Angel of Mercy to come get me. The Angel said I was a Special Delivery! How about that? Signed with Love from God, Jesus &amp;amp; Me. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-1927606110137056380?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/1927606110137056380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/jesus-and-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/1927606110137056380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/1927606110137056380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/jesus-and-me.html' title='Jesus and Me'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i13.photobucket.com/albums/a254/lilkitch6/vicki%20and%20I/th_readinglukesnotetovicki.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-3215006922463065853</id><published>2009-02-06T00:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T21:08:33.397-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Your Angel !</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time there was a child ready to be born. The child asked God, "They tell me you are sending me to earth tomorrow, how am I going to live there being so small and helpless?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God replied, "Among all the angels, I chose one for you, your angel will be waiting for you and will take care of you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/mother%20and%20child" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i235.photobucket.com/albums/ee172/Darlin01/Momandchild.jpg" border="0" alt="mother and child Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The child further inquired, "Tell me, here in heaven I don't have to do anything but sing and smile to be happy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God said, "Your angel will sing for you and will also smile for you every day. You will feel your angel's love and be very happy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again the child asked, "How am I going to be able to understand when people talk to me if I don't know the language?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God said, "Your angel will tell you the most beautiful and sweet words you will ever hear, and with much patience and care, your angel will teach you how to speak."&lt;br /&gt;"What am I going to do when I want to talk to you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God said, "Your angel will place your hands together and will teach you how to pray."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've heard that on Earth there are bad men. Who will protect me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God said, "Your angel will defend you even if it means risking its life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I will always be sad because I will not see you anymore."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God said, "Your angel will always talk to you about me and will teach you the way to come back to me, even though I will always be next to you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"God, if I am to leave now, please tell me my angel's name." "Her name is not important.... you will simply call her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;'Mommy'."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-3215006922463065853?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/3215006922463065853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/your-angel.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/3215006922463065853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/3215006922463065853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/your-angel.html' title='Your Angel !'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-503645418378251018</id><published>2009-02-06T00:04:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T00:06:04.123-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice Love Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href='http://www.scrapu.com' target='_blank'&gt; &lt;img src='http://i241.photobucket.com/albums/ff17/tucmuc/oth/story_07.jpg'&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-503645418378251018?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/503645418378251018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/blog-post_06.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/503645418378251018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/503645418378251018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/blog-post_06.html' title='Nice Love Story'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i241.photobucket.com/albums/ff17/tucmuc/oth/th_story_07.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-3010858311911869687</id><published>2009-02-05T02:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T21:07:45.014-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Little Angel</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SZ-L_-VcM8I/AAAAAAAAAEk/L9ZRpOgwF04/s1600-h/204517740wwFwoE_ph.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SZ-L_-VcM8I/AAAAAAAAAEk/L9ZRpOgwF04/s320/204517740wwFwoE_ph.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305112817246680002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;My wife called, 'How long will you be with that newspaper? Will you come here and make your darling daughter eat her food?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I tossed the paper away and rushed to the scene. My only daughter Sindu looked frightened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tears were welling up in her eyes. In front of her was a bowl filled to its brim with Curd Rice. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sindu is a nice child, quite intelligent for her age.She has just turned eight. She particularly detested Curd Rice. My mother and my wife are orthodox, and believe firmly in the 'cooling effects' of Curd Rice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I cleared my throat, and picked up the bowl. 'Sindu, darling,why don't you take a few mouthful of this Curd Rice?Just for Dad's sake, dear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sindu softened a bit, and wiped her tears with the back of her hands. 'OK, Dad. I will eat - not just a few mouthfuls, but the whole lot of this. But, you should...' Sindu hesitated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;'Dad, if I eat this entire curd Rice, will you give me whatever I ask for?'...........Oh sure, darling'....'Promise?'.................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;'Promise'. I covered the pink soft hand extended by my daughter with mine, and clinched the deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;'Ask Mom also to give a similar promise', my daughter insisted. My wife put her hand on Sindu's, muttering 'Promise'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now I became a bit anxious. 'Sindu dear, you shouldn't insist on getting a computer or any such expensive items.Dad does not have that kind of money right now. OK?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;'No, Dad. I do not want anything expensive'.Slowly and painfully, she finished eating the whole quantity. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I was silently angry with my wife and my mother for forcing my child eat something that she detested. After the ordeal was through, Sindu came to me with her eyes wide with expectation.All our attention was on her.............'Dad, I want to have my head shaved off, this Sunday!' was her demand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;'Atrocious!' shouted my wife, 'A girl child having her head shaved off?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Impossible!' 'Never in our family!' my mother rasped.'She has been watching too much of television. Our culture is getting totally spoiled with these TV programs!' Sindu darling, why don't you ask for something else? We will be sad seeing you with a clean-shaven head.'&lt;br /&gt;'No, Dad. I do not want anything else', Sindu said with finality.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Please, Sindu, why don't you try to understand our feelings?' I tried to plead with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;'Dad, you saw how difficult it was for me to eat that Curd Rice'. Sindu was in tears. 'And you promised to grant me whatever I ask for.Now, you are going back on your words. Was it not you who told me the story of King Harishchandra,and its moral that we should honor our promises no matter what?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It was time for me to call the shots. 'Our promise must be kept.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;'Are you out your mind?' chorused my mother and wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;'No. If we go back on our promises, she will never learn to honor her own. Sindu, your wish will be fulfilled.' &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;With her head clean-shaven, Sindu had a round-face, and her eyes looked big and beautiful. On Monday morning, I dropped her at her school. It was a sight to watch my hairless Sindu walking towards her classroom.She turned around and waved. I waved back with a smile. Just then, a boy alighted from a car, and shouted, 'Sinduja, please wait for me!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What struck me was the hairless head of that boy. 'May be, that is the in-stuff', I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;'Sir, your daughter Sinduja is great indeed!' Without introducing herself, a lady got out of the car, and continued,' That boy who is walking along with your daughter is my son Harish. He is suffering from... ... leukemia.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She paused to muffle her sobs. Harish could not attend the school for the whole of the last month. He lost all his hair due to the side effects of the chemotherapy. He refused to come back to school fearing the unintentional but cruel teasing of the schoolmates. 'Sinduja visited him last week, and promised him that she will take care of the teasing issue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But, I never imagined she would sacrifice her lovely hair for the sake of my son! Sir, you and your wife are blessed to have such a noble soul as your daughter.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I stood transfixed. And then, I wept. 'My little Angel, you are teaching me how self-less real love is!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The happiest people on this planet are not those who live on their own terms but are those who change their terms for the ones whom they love..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-3010858311911869687?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/3010858311911869687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-little-angel.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/3010858311911869687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/3010858311911869687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-little-angel.html' title='My Little Angel'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SZ-L_-VcM8I/AAAAAAAAAEk/L9ZRpOgwF04/s72-c/204517740wwFwoE_ph.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-2733206504335835022</id><published>2009-02-05T02:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T02:05:45.645-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sage and the Dolls</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A sage presented a prince with a set of three small dolls. The prince was not amused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Am I a girl that you give me dolls?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"This is a gift for a future king," said the man. "If you look carefully, you'll see a hole in the ear of each doll."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"So?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The sage handed him a piece of string. "Pass it through each doll," he said. Intrigued, the prince picked up the first doll and put the string into the ear. It came out from the other ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"This is one type of person," said the man. "Whatever you tell him, comes out from the other ear. He doesn't retain anything."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The prince put the string into the second doll. It came out from the mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"This is the second type of person," said the man. "Whatever you tell him, he tells everybody else."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The prince picked up the third doll and repeated the process. The string did not reappear from anywhere else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"This is the third type of person," said the man. "Whatever you tell him is locked up within him. It never comes out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"What is the best type of person?" asked the prince.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The man handed him a fourth doll, in answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When the prince put the string into the doll, it came out from the other ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Do it again," said the sage. The prince repeated the process. This time the string came out from the mouth. When he put the string in a third time, it did not come out at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"This is the best type of person," said the sage. "To be trustworthy, a man must know when not to listen, when to remain silent and when to speak out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A wise person knows when to listen and when not to, when to remain silent and when to speak. **What about me? Which kind of doll you would represent?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;If you happen to fall in the first three category, have you made any attempt to shift yourself to the fourth category? Well this story also makes us more conscious about being sensitive to different situations and people. Diplomacy in life is cooked through the oven of sensitivity and&lt;br /&gt;awareness. Being sensitive and aware to people and situation makes us trustworthy in life. I am sure that is what all of us expect from another human being.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-2733206504335835022?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/2733206504335835022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/sage-and-dolls.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2733206504335835022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2733206504335835022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/sage-and-dolls.html' title='The Sage and the Dolls'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-4681710922102030283</id><published>2009-02-05T01:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T22:16:05.144-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Frogs in the Pit</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A group of frogs were travelling through the woods, and two of them fell into a deep pit. All the other frogs gathered around the pit.  When they saw how deep the pit was, they told the two frogs that they were as good as dead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/jumping%20frogs" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i167.photobucket.com/albums/u149/Margie077/New%20file%20001/jumping_frog.gif" border="0" alt="Frog Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/jumping%20frogs" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i167.photobucket.com/albums/u149/Margie077/New%20file%20001/jumping_frog.gif" border="0" alt="Frog Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The two frogs ignored the comments and tried to jump up out of the pit with all of their might. The other frogs kept telling them to stop, that they were as good as dead.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, one of the frogs took heed to what the other frogs were saying and gave up. He fell down and died. The other frog continued to jump as hard as he could. Once again, the crowd of frogs yelled at him to stop the pain and just die. He jumped even harder and finally made it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When he got out, the other frogs said, "Did you not hear us?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The frog explained to them that he was deaf. He thought they were encouraging him the entire time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This story teaches three lessons :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There is power of live and death in the tongue. An encouraging word to someone who is down can lift them up and help them make it through the day. A destructive word to someone who is down can be what it takes to kill them. Be careful of what you say. Speak life to those who cross your path. You can do whatever you set your mind to. Just don't let others make you believe you can't.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-4681710922102030283?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/4681710922102030283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/frogs-in-pit.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4681710922102030283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4681710922102030283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/frogs-in-pit.html' title='Frogs in the Pit'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i167.photobucket.com/albums/u149/Margie077/New%20file%20001/th_jumping_frog.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-4138614132472786500</id><published>2009-02-05T01:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T03:00:34.298-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today is a Beautiful Day !</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A blind boy sat on the steps of a building with a hat by his feet. He held up a sign which said: "I am blind, please help." There were only a few coins in the hat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/beggar" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i196.photobucket.com/albums/aa264/rick_l23/Beggar.jpg" border="0" alt="Beggin\' Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A man was walking by. He took a few coins from his pocket and dropped them into the hat. He then took the sign, turned it around, and wrote some words. He put the sign back so that everyone who walked by would see the new words.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Soon the hat began to fill up. A lot more people were giving money to the blind boy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That afternoon the man who had changed the sign came to see how things were. The boy recognized his footsteps and asked, "Were u the one who changed my sign this morning? What did u write?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The man said, "I only wrote the truth. I said what u said but in a different way." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What he had written was: "Today is a beautiful day &amp;amp; I cannot see it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Do you think the first sign &amp;amp; the second sign were saying the same thing? Of course both signs told people the boy was blind. But the first sign simply said the boy was blind. The second sign told people they were so lucky that they were not blind. Should we be surprised that the second sign was more effective?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Moral of the Story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Be thankful for what you have. Be creative. Be innovative. Think differently and positively. Invite the people towards good with wisdom. Live life with no excuse and love with no regrets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Life gives you a 100 reasons to cry, show life that you have 1000 reasons to smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Face your past without regret. Handle your present with confidence. Prepare for the future without fear. Keep the faith and drop the fear. Don't believe your doubts and doubt your beliefs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is a mystery to solve not a problem to resolve. Life is wonderful if you know how to live.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-4138614132472786500?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/4138614132472786500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/today-is-beautiful-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4138614132472786500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4138614132472786500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/today-is-beautiful-day.html' title='Today is a Beautiful Day !'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-4014935572270215980</id><published>2009-02-05T01:54:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T01:54:52.990-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dumpest Kid in the World</title><content type='html'>A young boy enters a barber shop and the barber whispers to his Customer, "This is the dumbest kid in the world. Watch while I prove it to you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The barber puts a five rupee coin in one hand and two one rupee coins in the other, then calls the boy over and asks, "Which do you want, son?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy takes the two one rupee coins and leaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did I tell you?" said the barber. "That kid never learns!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, when the customer leaves, he sees the same young boy coming out of the ice cream store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, son! May I ask you a question?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did you take two one rupee coins instead of five rupee coin?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy licked his cone and replied, "Because THE DAY I TAKE THE FIVE RUPEE COIN, THE GAME IS OVER !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral: When you think the other person is dumb, you are making a fool of yourself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-4014935572270215980?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/4014935572270215980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/dumpest-kid-in-world.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4014935572270215980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4014935572270215980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/dumpest-kid-in-world.html' title='Dumpest Kid in the World'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-6299282393230532429</id><published>2009-02-05T01:53:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T01:53:52.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Apple in the Bag</title><content type='html'>A teacher teaching Maths to seven-year-old Arnav asked him, "If I give you one apple and one apple and one apple, how many apples will you have?"Within a few seconds Arnav replied confidently, "Four!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dismayed teacher was expecting an effortless correct answer (three).  She was disappointed.  "Maybe the child did not listen properly," she thought.  She repeated, "Arnav, listen carefully.  If I give you one apple and one apple and one apple, how many apples will you have?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arnav had seen the disappointment on his teacher's face.  He calculated again on his fingers.  But within him he was also searching for the answer that will make the teacher happy.  His search for the answer was not for the correct one, but the one that will make his teacher happy.  This time hesitatingly he replied, "Four…"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The disappointment stayed on the teacher's face.  She remembered that Arnav liked strawberries.  She thought maybe he doesn't like apples and that is making him loose focus.  This time with an exaggerated excitement and twinkling in her eyes she asked, "If I give you one strawberry and one strawberry and one strawberry, then how many you will have?"&lt;br /&gt;Seeing the teacher happy, young Arnav calculated on his fingers again.  There was no pressure on him, but a little on the teacher.  She wanted her new approach to succeed.  With a hesitating smile young Arnav enquired, "Three?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teacher now had a victorious smile.  Her approach had succeeded.  She wanted to congratulate herself.  But one last thing remained.  Once again she asked him, "Now if I give you one apple and one apple and one more apple how many will you have?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Promptly Arnav answered, "Four!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teacher was aghast.  "How Arnav, how?" she demanded in a little stern and irritated voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a voice that was low and hesitating young Arnav replied, "Because I already have one apple in my bag."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When someone gives you an answer that is different from what you expect. Don't think they are wrong. There maybe an angle that you have not understood at all. You will have to listen and understand, but never listen with a predetermined notion."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-6299282393230532429?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/6299282393230532429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/apple-in-bag.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6299282393230532429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6299282393230532429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/apple-in-bag.html' title='An Apple in the Bag'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-8181856607035445499</id><published>2009-02-05T01:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T23:18:53.714-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Forget the Bad</title><content type='html'>A man and his girlfriend were married. It was a large celebration.  All of their friends and family came to see the lovely ceremony and to be part of the festivital and celebration.  A wonderful time was had pass by all.  The bride was gorgeous in her white wedding gown and the groom was very dashing in his black tuxedo.  Everyone could tell that the love they had for each other was true. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/getting%20married" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i642.photobucket.com/albums/uu149/Jenaroo72387/DSC_5198.jpg" border="0" alt="Getting Married! Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months later, the wife comes to the husband with a proposal:  "I read in a magazine, a while ago, about how we can strengthen our marriage." she offered.  "Each of us will write a list of the things that we find a bit annoying with the other person. Then, we can talk about how we can fix them together and make our lives happier together."  The husband agreed.  So each of them went to a separate room in the house and thought of the things that annoyed them about the other.  They thought about this question for the rest of the day and wrote down what they came up with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning, at the breakfast table, they decided that they would go over their lists.  "I'll start," offered the wife.  She took out her list.  It had many items on it.  Enough to fill 3 pages, in fact.  As she started reading the list of the little annoyances, she noticed that tears were starting to appear in her husbands eyes.  "What's wrong?" she asked.  "Nothing" the husband replied, "keep reading your list."  The wife continued to read until she had read all three pages to her husband.  She neatly placed her list on the table and folded her hands over top of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now, you read your list and then we'll talk about the things on both of our lists." She said happily.  Quietly the husband stated,"I don't have anything on my list. I think that you are perfect the way that you are. I don't want you to change anything for me. You are lovely and wonderful and I wouldn't want to try and change anything about you."  The wife, touched by his honesty and the depth of his love for her and his acceptance of her, turned her head and wept. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moral:  In life, there are enough times when we are disappointed, depressed and annoyed.  We don't really have to go looking for them. We have a wonderful world that is full of beauty, light and promise. Why waste time in this world looking for the bad, disappointing or annoying when we can look around us, and see the wonderous things before us?  I believe that we are happiest when we see and praise the good and try our best to forget the bad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-8181856607035445499?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/8181856607035445499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/forget-bad.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8181856607035445499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8181856607035445499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/forget-bad.html' title='Forget the Bad'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-924854720092910114</id><published>2009-02-05T01:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T19:56:53.109-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Law of the Garbage Truck</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;One day I hopped in a taxi and we took off for the airport. We were driving in the right lane when suddenly a black car jumped out of a parking space right in front of us. My taxi driver slammed on his brakes,  skidded, and missed the other car by just inches! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The driver of the other  car whipped his head around and started yelling at us. My taxi driver just  smiled and waved at the guy. And I mean, he was really friendly.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So I asked, 'Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital!' &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is when my taxi driver taught me what I now call, 'The Law of the Garbage Truck.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/garbage%20truck" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b32/spiffywonderboy/garbage-truck.gif" border="0" alt="Garbage Truck Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He explained that many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment. As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it and sometimes they'll dump it on you. Don't take it personally.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. Don't take their garbage and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the streets.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The bottom line is that successful people do not let garbage trucks take over their day. Life's too short to wake up in the morning with regrets, so.....'Love the people who treat you right. Pray for the ones who don't  - that they see the wisdom of their foolish ways' Life is ten percent what you make it and ninety percent how you take it! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-924854720092910114?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/924854720092910114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/law-of-garbage-truck.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/924854720092910114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/924854720092910114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/law-of-garbage-truck.html' title='The Law of the Garbage Truck'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-8275532671969811061</id><published>2009-02-05T01:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:34:34.682-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Old Men</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A woman came out of her house and saw 3 old men with long white beards sitting in her front yard. She did not recognize them. She said "I don't think I know you, but you must be hungry. Please come in and have something to eat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Is the man of the house home?", they asked. "No", she replied. "He's out." "Then we cannot come in", they replied. In the evening when her husband came home, she told him what had happened."Go tell them I am home and invite them in!" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The woman went out and invited the men in"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"We do not go into a House together," they replied. "Why is that?" she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One of the old men explained: "His name is Wealth," he said pointing to one of his friends, and said pointing to another one, "He is Success, and I am Love." Then he added, "Now go in and discuss with your husband which one of us you want in your home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The woman went in and told her husband what was said. Her husband was overjoyed. "How nice!!", he said. "Since that is the case, let us invite Wealth. Let him come and fill our home with wealth!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;His wife disagreed. "My dear, why don't we invite Success?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Their daughter-in- law was listening from the other corner of the house. She jumped in with her own suggestion: "Would it not be better to invite Love? Our home will then be filled with love!"&lt;br /&gt;"Let us heed our daughter-in- law's advice," said the husband to his wife."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Go out and invite Love to be our guest."The woman went out and asked the 3 old men, "Which one of you is Love? Please come in and be our guest."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/speaking%20angel" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y275/1jammy/family-2008/yeshua-in-a-succah017.jpg" border="0" alt="Feat of Tabernacles 2008 Pictures, Images and Photos" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Love got up and started walking toward the house. The other 2 also got up and followed him. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Surprised, the lady asked Wealth and Success: "I only invited Love, Why are you coming in?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The old men replied together: "If you had invited Wealth or Success, the other two of us would've stayed out, but since you invited Love, wherever He goes, we go with him. Wherever there is Love, there is also Wealth and Success!!!!! !"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Where there is pain, I wish you peace and mercy. Where there is self-doubting, I wish you a renewed confidence in your ability to work through it. Where there is tiredness, or exhaustion, I wish you understanding, patience, and renewed strength. Where there is fear, I wish you love, and courage.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-8275532671969811061?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/8275532671969811061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/three-old-men.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8275532671969811061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8275532671969811061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/three-old-men.html' title='Three Old Men'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y275/1jammy/family-2008/th_yeshua-in-a-succah017.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-8557604216416249705</id><published>2009-02-05T01:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T21:20:10.549-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Start with a positive day</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" style="background-color:#000000;border:1px solid #ff0000;"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.scrapu.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i213.photobucket.com/albums/cc78/myscrado/scrap/Sdhire.jpg" alt="Musical Good Morning Song Scraps Comments Graphics" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;  &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://i241.photobucket.com/albums/ff17/tucmuc/music/sdhireat.swf" height="60" width="130" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.scrapu.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I will not strike back: If someone is rude, if someone is impatient, if someone is unkind... I will not respond in a like manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I will ask GOD to bless my ENEMY: If I come across someone who treats me harshly or unfairly, I will quietly ask GOD to bless that individual. I understand the "enemy" could be a family member, neighbor, co-worker or stranger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I will be careful about what I say: I will carefully choose and guard my words being certain that I do not spread gossip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I will go the extra mile: I will find ways to help share the burden of another person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I will forgive: I will forgive any hurts or injuries that come my way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I will do something nice for someone, but I will not do it secretly : I will reach out anonymously and bless the life of another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I will treat others the way I wish to be treated: I will practice the golden rule - "Do unto others as I would have them do unto me" - with everyone I encounter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I will raise the spirits of someone who is discouraged: My smile, my words, my expression of support, can make the difference to someone who is wrestling with life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I will nurture my body : I will eat less; I will eat only healthy foods. I will thank GOD for my body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I will grow spiritually : I will spend a little more time in prayer today: I will begin reading something spiritual or inspirational today; I will find a quiet place (at some point during this day) and listen to GOD's voice!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-8557604216416249705?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/8557604216416249705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/start-with-positive-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8557604216416249705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8557604216416249705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/start-with-positive-day.html' title='Start with a positive day'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i213.photobucket.com/albums/cc78/myscrado/scrap/th_Sdhire.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-6533167565721649591</id><published>2009-02-05T01:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T23:42:03.319-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something to Think About</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A voyaging ship was wrecked during a storm at sea and only two of the men on it were able to swim to a small, desert like island. The two survivors, not knowing what else to do, agree that they had no other recourse but to pray to God.  However, to find out whose prayer was more powerful, they agreed to divide the territory between them and stay on opposite sides of the island.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/man%20praying" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i205.photobucket.com/albums/bb166/elishalei23/manpraying.jpg" border="0" alt="man praying Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The first thing they prayed for was food. The next morning, the first man saw a fruit-bearing tree on his side of the land, and he was able to eat its fruit. The other man's parcel of land remained barren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;After a week, the first man was lonely and he decided to pray for a wife. The next day, another ship was wrecked, and the only survivor was a woman who swam to his side of the land. On the other side of the island, there. was nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Soon the first man prayed for a house, clothes, more food. The next day, like magic, all of these were given to him. However, the second man still had nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the first man prayed for a ship, so that he and his wife could leave the island. In the morning, he found a ship docked at his side of the island. The first man boarded the ship with his wife and decided to leave  the second man on the island. He considered the other man unworthy to receive God's blessings, since none of his prayers had been answered.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As the ship was about to leave, the first man heard a voice from heaven booming, "Why are you leaving your companion on the island?" "My blessings are mine alone, since I was the one who prayed for them," the first man answered. "His prayers were all unanswered and so he does not deserve anything."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You are mistaken!" the voice rebuked him. "He had only one prayer, which answered;  If not for that, you would not have received any of my Blessings."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Tell me," the first man asked the voice, "what did he pray for that I should owe him anything?""He prayed that all your prayers be answered."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;For all we know, our blessings are not the fruits of our prayers alone, but those of another praying for us.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-6533167565721649591?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/6533167565721649591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/something-to-think-about.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6533167565721649591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6533167565721649591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/something-to-think-about.html' title='Something to Think About'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-6580276333051917960</id><published>2009-02-05T01:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T01:35:54.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How much does a miracle cost?"</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;An eight-year-old child heard her parents talking about her little brother. All she knew was that he was very sick and they had no money left. They were moving to a smaller house because they could not afford to stay in the present house after paying the doctor's bills. Only a very costly surgery could save him now and there was no one to loan them the money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she heard daddy say to her tearful mother with whispered desperation, 'Only a miracle can save him now', the child went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jar from its hiding place in the closet. She poured all the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Clutching the precious jar tightly, she slipped out the back door and made her way six blocks to the local drug Store. She took a quarter from her jar and placed it on the glass counter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And what do you want?" asked the pharmacist. "It's for my little brother," the girl answered back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"He's really, really sick and I want to buy a miracle." "I beg your pardon?" said the pharmacist. "His name  is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head and my daddy says only a miracle can save him. So how much does a miracle cost?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We don't sell miracles here, child. I'm sorry," the pharmacist said, smiling sadly at the little girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn't enough, I can try and get some more. Just tell me how much it costs." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In the shop was a well-dressed customer. He stooped down and asked the little girl, "What kind of a miracle does you brother need?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/little%20girl" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i199.photobucket.com/albums/aa194/LydieexoKate/haha001.jpg" border="0" alt="daddys little girl Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"I don't know," she replied with her eyes welling up. "He's really sick and mommy says he needs an operation. But my daddy can't pay for it, so I have brought my savings". "How much do you have?" asked the man. "One dollar and eleven cents, but I can try and get some more", she answered barely audibly. "Well, what a coincidence, " smiled the man. "A dollar and eleven cents the exact price of a miracle for little brothers."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He took her money in one hand and held her hand with the other. He said, "Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents. Let's see if I have the kind of miracle you need." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That well-dressed man was Dr Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon, specializing in neuro-surgery. The operation was completed without charge and it wasn't long before Andrew was home again and doing well.  "That surgery," her mom whispered, "was a real miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost." The little girl smiled. She knew exactly how much the miracle cost one dollar and eleven cents ... plus the  faith of a little child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-6580276333051917960?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/6580276333051917960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/how-much-does-miracle-cost.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6580276333051917960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6580276333051917960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/how-much-does-miracle-cost.html' title='How much does a miracle cost?&quot;'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-7628991449268854292</id><published>2009-02-05T01:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T21:39:50.761-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you God's Wife ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;An eye witness account from New York City , on a cold day in December, some years ago: A little boy, about 10-years-old, was standing before a shoe store on the roadway, barefooted, peering through the window, and shivering with cold.   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A lady approached the young boy and said, 'My, but you're in such deep thought staring in that window!'    &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;'I was asking God to give me a pair of shoes' was the boy's reply.   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The lady took him by the hand, went into the store, and asked the clerk to get half of a dozen pairs of socks for the boy. She then asked if he could give her a basin of water and a towel. He quickly brought them to her.   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She took the little fellow to the back part of the store and, removing her gloves, knelt down, washed his little feet, and dried them with the towel.   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;By this time, the clerk had returned with the socks. Placing a pair upon the boy's feet, she purchased him a pair of shoes.   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She tied up the remaining pairs of socks and gave them to him... She patted him on the head and said, 'No doubt, you will be more comfortable now'   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As she turned to go, the astonished kid caught her by the hand, and looking up into her face, with tears in his eyes, asked her. &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/angel" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i296.photobucket.com/albums/mm199/andrewsprott/angel.jpg" border="0" alt="White Angel Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Are you God's wife?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Manytimes in our lives too we get a consolation from God's wife which gives as a hope that God is definitely coming to approve your offer. Now look at those people who do not even have the consolation of God's wife? Who's fault is that? If you don't have any desire or dream how can even anything happens to your life? lt is just like stagnent water in the pond. All what you can aspire for is that just some bubbles and ripples by the mercy of the wind. So go for it...move with hope and inspire other people to dream and give them the taste of dream to make the world a happy place to live and merging ourselves in that ocean of oneness, unity, love, peace and happiness among the people whom you contact.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-7628991449268854292?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/7628991449268854292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/are-you-gods-wife.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/7628991449268854292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/7628991449268854292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/are-you-gods-wife.html' title='Are you God&apos;s Wife ?'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-3618649566249488817</id><published>2009-02-05T01:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T21:42:07.992-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mouse trap in the House !</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A mouse looked through the crack In the wall to see the farmer And his wife open a package. What food might this contain?' The mouse wondered - - - He was devastated to discover It was a mousetrap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Retreating to the farmyard, The mouse proclaimed the warning :   There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house! The chicken clucked and scratched, Raised her head and said, 'Mr.Mouse, I can tell this is a grave Concern to you, but it is of no consequence To me. I cannot be bothered by it.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The mouse turned to the pig and told him, 'There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!' The pig sympathized, but said, 'I am so very sorry, Mr Mouse, But there is nothing I can do about it But pray. Be assured you are in my prayers.'     &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The mouse turned to the cow and said, 'There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!' The cow said, 'Wow, Mr. Mouse. I'm sorry for you, But it's no skin off my nose.'     &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, the mouse returned to the house, Head down and dejected, To face the farmer's mousetrap . . Alone. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That very night a sound was heard Throughout the house -- like the sound Of a mousetrap catching its prey. The farmer's wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness, she did not see it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught.   The snake bit the farmer's wife. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The farmer rushed her to the hospital,  And she returned home with a fever. Everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer  took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup's main ingredient.    &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But his wife's sickness continued, So friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock. To feed them, The farmer butchered the  pig. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The farmer's wife did not get well; She died.  So many people came for her funeral, the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them.   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The mouse looked upon it all from his crack in the wall with great sadness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/mouse%20crying" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i257.photobucket.com/albums/hh223/naan1966/sad/mousesad.gif" border="0" alt="mouse crying Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, the next time you hear someone is facing a problem and think it doesn't concern you, remember ---- When one of us is threatened, We are all at risk. We are all involved in this  journey called life. We must keep an eye out for One another and make an extra effort To encourage one another.    &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;REMEMBER. . . EACH OF US IS A VITAL THREAD IN ANOTHER PERSON'S TAPESTRY; OUR LIVES ARE WOVEN TOGETHER FOR A REASON.   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One of the best things to hold onto In this world is a FRIEND. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-3618649566249488817?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/3618649566249488817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/mouse-trap-in-house.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/3618649566249488817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/3618649566249488817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/mouse-trap-in-house.html' title='Mouse trap in the House !'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i257.photobucket.com/albums/hh223/naan1966/sad/th_mousesad.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-8564053856675554978</id><published>2009-02-05T00:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T21:32:51.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Simple Rules to be Happy</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I have a 32 year old friend who was taken to hospital because he was suffering from chronic depression. I was surprised to know that medical doctors now also have classified "mental diseases". And a little research showed that lack of happiness created a state of "mental illness" whether it is called as depression, panic attacks, anxiety or acute nervousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem is that we have complicated our attitude towards life and living to the point that our own lives have gone out of our control. And after having complicated our lives, the mistake that we make is that we expect a complicated solution to straighten out the problem. And just the reverse is true. Problems occur when we deviate from simplicity and complicate communication. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/be%20happy" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg13/vann_014/be-happy.jpg" border="0" alt="be happy Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being happy is so simple, that many people find it difficult to practice. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I live my life by these simple rules and often people compliment me with a question, "How do you stay so happy?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1. Tell the truth: To tell the truth is the mark of a person with character. In today's professional warfare, twisting the truth has become a norm. Trust is lacking in personal and professional relationships. People are not honest about their feelings, their agendas and their intentions, for the fear of being rejected or judged. Being rejected and judged on the truth is far better than living a lie. Aspire to be honest no matter what the consequences. You will be happier and abundant in all that counts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Appreciate goodness: Some of us rank first in the queue of criticism and in the same breath; we are the last to appreciate. Remember this that whatever you appreciate will grow in your experience. When you compliment and appreciate someone, they will always return your gesture. Appreciation like any other outflow of emotion and it has a boomerang effect; it comes back to you multiplied. Give genuine appreciation and you will be richly rewarded with more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Don't do to others that you would not have others do to you: Often I have seen people put others down on one pretext or another. The person who puts others down is far unhappier than the person belittled. Measure every action by the rule, "Would I have this done to me?" If your answer is no, don't do it. Always treat people with the grace and dignity they deserve even if your opinion about them is otherwise. When you treat people a certain way, indirectly you are sending out the message of how you should be treated. Treat people with respect, no matter what your opinion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Take care of yourself: Some people look after their cars better than they look after their own bodies. I sincerely believe that someone who is not interested in looking after himself is a disaster waiting to happen. The ultimate disrespect one can bear upon oneself is not to consider oneself worthy enough of being treated well. You can't complain when others don't treat you well, if you can't do that for yourself. Treat yourself with love, and you will find yourself in a zone of pure happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Be competent: The greatest joy one gets is out of his own competence and accomplishments. Competent people have higher self esteem and self worth. They consider themselves capable of adding value and that increases their happiness quotient. Be competent in your field of endeavor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Have the attitude of gratitude: Gratefulness is the key to greatness. It puts you in a state of acceptance and tolerance. You can't be grateful and not be happy. Gratitude is the most gracious path to happiness. Be grateful for all that you have, and when you are grateful for that, you will never be in a position of lack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Set a good example: The highest form of living is by setting a good example. No matter who you are, how small or big, there is always someone watching you and emulating you. And if you have children, then the responsibility of setting a good example is far greater. When you direct your life consciously towards setting a good example, you can never go wrong.Life is beautiful and the keys to happiness are simple. Infact, unhappiness is a clue that we have deviated from fairness, honesty and compromised on our integrity. The slightest pinch of negativity should direct us towards the simple rules of being happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is worth living if you allow yourself to be happy. It's easy. Be happy. Be Positive.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-8564053856675554978?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/8564053856675554978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/simple-rules-to-be-happy_05.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8564053856675554978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8564053856675554978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/simple-rules-to-be-happy_05.html' title='Simple Rules to be Happy'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-4965647845370850616</id><published>2009-02-04T22:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T22:35:25.442-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Inner Smile</title><content type='html'>'Taoist Sages say that when you smile, your organs release a honey-like secretion which nourishes the whole body. When you are angry, fearful or under stress, they produce a poisonous secretion which blocks up the channels'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The practice of the inner smile I share below to release tension and promote ease and well-being in your body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE INNER SMILE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sit comfortably – ultimately, you can practice the inner smile anywhere, in any position.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allow a smile to dance into your eyes. If you like, raise the corners of your mouth ever so slightly, like someone who knows a really cool secret but doesn't need to tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smile into any part of your body that feels tight, or uncomfortable, until it begins to ease or relax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smile into any part of your body that feels especially good. You can increase the smile by expressing gratitude to that part of your body for helping to keep you healthy and strong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allow the inner smile to reach every corner of your body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some specific suggestions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a)    Smile into the organs of your body – your heart, liver, pancreas, kidney, sex and adrenal glands. If you don't know where these organs are, it's OK to pretend – your body will redirect the energy for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;b)    Smile down through your oesophagus and into your stomach. Smile all the way through your large and small intestines and out of your bottom. (If anyone can think of a more delicate way to put that, answers on a postcard, please!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;c)    Smile up into your brain, then down through the base of your skull and all the way down to the bottom of your spine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can smile into your life as well as your body. Try smiling and expressing gratitude into a relationship, an environment or a project you are currently working on, and notice how the energy around that situation begins to shift!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-4965647845370850616?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/4965647845370850616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/inner-smile.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4965647845370850616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4965647845370850616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/inner-smile.html' title='The Inner Smile'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-5622618112448696550</id><published>2009-02-04T22:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T22:39:32.481-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A sweet love story</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's his true feeling, from the bottom of his heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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 far away hometown, her childhood, her family. That was a really nice talk, also a beautiful beginning of their story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;table align="center" style="background-color:#000000;border:1px solid #ff0000;"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.scrapu.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i213.photobucket.com/albums/cc78/myscrado/scrap/Skhamo.jpg" alt="Musical Hug / Hug Me Song Scraps Comments Graphics" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;  &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://i241.photobucket.com/albums/ff17/tucmuc/music/skhamoat.swf" height="60" width="130" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.scrapu.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having you with me is my biggest happiness for my whole life. If I can live for the second time, still want to know you and have you for my whole life, even  though I have to drink the salty coffee again".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her tears made the letter totally wet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someday, someone asked her: what's the taste of salty coffee?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's sweet. She replied.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-5622618112448696550?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/5622618112448696550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/sweet-love-story.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5622618112448696550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5622618112448696550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/sweet-love-story.html' title='A sweet love story'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i213.photobucket.com/albums/cc78/myscrado/scrap/th_Skhamo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-4682732234995278678</id><published>2009-02-04T22:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T22:13:25.565-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Greed- the Ultimate venom</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SZ5J7SRXdcI/AAAAAAAAAEU/U_iQqF4ZRlE/s1600-h/The-Man-at-the-Wheel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SZ5J7SRXdcI/AAAAAAAAAEU/U_iQqF4ZRlE/s320/The-Man-at-the-Wheel.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304758693954811330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Four men decided to go in search of riches.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They asked a wise man how to find treasures and wealth. He told them to climb a certain mountain. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As they climbed, they found a cave filled with silver.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One of the four decided to take the silver and go home. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The other three continued to climb. They found a cave full of gold.  One of the remaining three decided to take the gold and return home. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The remaining two men continued to climb and found a cave filled with diamonds.  One of them decided to take home the diamonds and climb no further. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The fourth man thought there atop the mountain, surely more precious riches awaited him. He continued to climb.  Finally, on top, he saw a man seated with a spinning wheel that was turning on the top of his head. He asked the climber, "What has brought you to the mountain top?" The climber answered: "I am in search of treasure. My friends stopped climbing when they reached the caves in which they found silver, gold and diamonds. However, I feel certain that there are riches greater than those, and I want to find them". &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The man with the wheel said: "I know how you can find what you are seeking. Relieve me of the burden of wearing this spinning wheel for a few moments, and I will tell you the secret".  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The climber agreed, and let the other fix the spinning wheel onto his head. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The man on the mountain then said: "I am glad to be relieved of this wheel.  I have been wearing it for decades. Like you, I had been searching for riches and climbed this mountain with my friends. They too stopped climbing when, in turn, they found the caves of silver, gold and diamonds. I wanted more.  Eventually, I reached the top and like you met a man wearing this wheel. He told me what I told you — that he would give me an answer to what I was seeking if I would relieve him of this wheel.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He took it off his head&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-4682732234995278678?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/4682732234995278678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/greed-ultimate-venom.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4682732234995278678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4682732234995278678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/greed-ultimate-venom.html' title='Greed- the Ultimate venom'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SZ5J7SRXdcI/AAAAAAAAAEU/U_iQqF4ZRlE/s72-c/The-Man-at-the-Wheel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-6534548766647823954</id><published>2009-02-04T21:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T01:16:47.146-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The River Goddess</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Once upon a time, there was a software engineer who used to develop programs on his Pentium machine, sitting under a tree on the banks of a river. He used to earn his bread by selling those programs in the Sunday market.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, while he was working, his machine tumbled off the table and fell in the river. Encouraged by the Panchatantra story of his childhood (the woodcutter and the axe), he started praying to the River Goddess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/river%20goddess" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i201.photobucket.com/albums/aa38/yvonneyoung_2007/Goddesses/sulis.jpg" border="0" alt="SULIS Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The River Goddess wanted to test him and so appeared only after one month of rigorous prayers. The engineer told her that he had lost his computer in the river.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual, the Goddess wanted to test his honesty. She showed him a match box and asked, "Is this your computer?" Disappointed by the Goddess' lack of computer awareness, the engineer replied, "No."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She next showed him a pocket-sized calculator and asked if that was his. Annoyed, the engineer said "No, not at all!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, she came up with his own Pentium machine and asked if it was his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The engineer, left with no option, sighed and said "Yes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The River Goddess was happy with his honesty. She was about to give him all three items, but before she could make the offer, the engineer asked her, "Don't you know that you're supposed to show me some better computers before bringing up my own ?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The River Goddess, angered at this, replied, "I know that, you stupid idiot! The first two things I showed you were the Trillennium and the Billennium, the latest computers from IBM!" So saying, she disappeared with the Pentium!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral: If you're not up-to-date with technology trends, it is better keep your mouth shut and let people think you're a fool, than to open your mouth and remove all doubt!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-6534548766647823954?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/6534548766647823954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/river-goddess.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6534548766647823954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6534548766647823954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/river-goddess.html' title='The River Goddess'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i201.photobucket.com/albums/aa38/yvonneyoung_2007/Goddesses/th_sulis.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-3967503149721812403</id><published>2009-02-04T21:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T21:42:56.574-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pebbles in the Bag</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Many years ago in a small Indian village, a farmer had the misfortune of owing a large sum of money to a village money lender. The Money lender, who was old, fat and ugly, fancied the farmer's beautiful daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he proposed a bargain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said he would forego the farmer's debt if he could marry his Daughter. Both the farmer and his daughter were horrified by the Proposal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the cunning money lender suggested that they let Providence decide the matter. He told them that he would put a black Pebble and a white pebble into an empty money bag. Then the girl would have to pick one pebble from the bag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If she picked the black pebble, she would become his wife and her father's debt would be forgiven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If she picked the white pebble she need not marry him and her father's debt would still be forgiven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But if she refused to pick a pebble, her father would be thrown into Jail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were standing on a pebble-strewn path in the farmer's field. As they talked, the money lender bent over to pick up two pebbles. As he picked them up, the sharp-eyed girl noticed that he had picked up two Black pebbles and put them into the bag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then asked the girl to pick A pebble from the bag. Now, imagine that you were standing in the field. What would you have done if you were the girl? If you had to advise her, what would you&lt;br /&gt;have told her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Careful analysis would produce three possibilities:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The girl should refuse to take a pebble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl should show that there were two black pebbles in the bag and expose the money lender as a cheat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl should pick a black pebble and sacrifice herself in order to save her father from his debt and imprisonment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a moment to ponder over the story. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The above story is used with the hope that it will make us appreciate the difference between lateral and logical thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl's dilemma cannot be solved with traditional logical thinking. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Think of the consequences if she chooses the above logical answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would you recommend to the Girl to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, here is what she did....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl put her hand into the money bag and drew out a pebble. Without looking at it, she fumbled and let it fall onto the pebble-strewn path where it immediately became lost among all the other pebbles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, how clumsy of me," she said. "But never mind, if you look into the Bag for the one that is left, you will be able to tell which pebble I Picked."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the remaining pebble is black, it must be assumed that she had picked the white one. And since the money lender dared not admit his Dishonesty, the girl changed what seemed an impossible situation into An extremely advantageous one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MORAL OF THE STORY:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most complex problems do have a solution. It is only that we don't attempt to think.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-3967503149721812403?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/3967503149721812403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/pebbles-in-bag.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/3967503149721812403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/3967503149721812403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/pebbles-in-bag.html' title='Pebbles in the Bag'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-7665776492146878439</id><published>2009-02-04T21:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T21:33:58.478-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Fairy Tale from a Fairy Land</title><content type='html'>MAYONNAISE JAR AND 2 CUPS OF COFFEE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When things in your life seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar and the 2 cups of coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A professor stood before his philosophy class and hadsome items in front of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a verylarge and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly.The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full they agreed it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar wasfu! ll. The students responded with a unanimous "yes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The professor then produced two cups of coffee fromunder the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided,"I want you to recognize that this jar representsyour life. The golf balls are the important things-your God, family, your children, your health, your friends, and your favorite passions--things that if everything else was lost and only they remained your life would still be full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, and your car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sand is everything else -- the small stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued,"there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls.The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take care of the golf balls first -- the things thatreally matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please share this with someone you care about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-7665776492146878439?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/7665776492146878439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/fairy-tale-from-fairy-land.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/7665776492146878439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/7665776492146878439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/fairy-tale-from-fairy-land.html' title='A Fairy Tale from a Fairy Land'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-9104562089113445791</id><published>2009-02-04T21:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T21:23:16.160-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The secret of success</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A young man asked Socrates the secret of success. Socrates told the young man to meet him near the river the next morning. They met. Socrates asked the young man to walk with him into the river. When the water got up to their neck, Socrates took the young man by surprise and swiftly ducked him into the water. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy struggled to get out but Socrates was strong and kept him there until the boy started turning blue. Socrates pulled the boy's head out of the water and the first thing the young man did was to gasp and take a deep breath of air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Socrates asked him, "what did you want the most when you were there?" The boy replied, "Air". Socrates said, "That is the secret of success! When you want success as badly as you wanted the air, then you will get it!" There is no other secret. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-9104562089113445791?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/9104562089113445791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/secret-of-success.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/9104562089113445791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/9104562089113445791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/secret-of-success.html' title='The secret of success'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-2505842457789347906</id><published>2009-02-04T21:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T22:00:41.100-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Key to success</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time a very strong woodcutter asked for a job with a timber merchant, and he got it. His salary was really good and so were the working conditions. For that reason, the woodcutter was determined to do his best. His boss gave him an axe and showed him the area where he was supposed to fell the trees. The first day, the woodcutter brought down 15 trees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/wood%20cutter" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i334.photobucket.com/albums/m407/spacex88/j0283699.gif" border="0" alt="Wood Cutter Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Congratulations," the boss said. " Carry on with your work!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Highly motivated by the words of his boss, the woodcutter tried harder the next day, but he only could bring 10 trees down. The third day he tried even harder, but he was only able to bring down 7 trees. Day after day he was bringing lesser number of trees down. "I must be losing my strength", the woodcutter thought. He went to the boss and apologized, saying that he could not understand what was going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" When was the last time you sharpened your axe?" the boss asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Sharpen? I had no time to sharpen my axe. I have been very busy trying to cut trees..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right. Most of us NEVER update our skills. We think that whatever we have learned is very much enough. But good is not good when better is expected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sharpening our skills from time to time is the key to success.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-2505842457789347906?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/2505842457789347906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/key-to-success.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2505842457789347906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2505842457789347906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/key-to-success.html' title='Key to success'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-1911749269962399390</id><published>2009-02-04T21:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T21:17:48.212-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm flying, Daddy...I'm Flying...</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time there was a little boy who was raised in an orphanage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little boy had always wished that he could fly like a bird. It was very difficult for him to understand why he could not fly. There were birds at the zoo that were much bigger than he, and they could fly. "Why can't I?" he thought. "Is there something wrong with me?" he wondered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was another little boy who was crippled. He had always wished that he could walk and run like other little boys and girls. "Why can't I be like them?" he thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day the little orphan boy, who had wanted to fly like a bird, ran away from the orphanage. He came upon a park where he saw the little boy, who could not walk or run, playing in the sandbox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He ran over to the little boy and asked him if he had ever wanted to fly like a bird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No," said the little boy who could not walk or run. "But I have wondered what it would be like to walk and run like other boys and girls."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That is very sad," said the little boy who wanted to fly. "Do you think we could be friends?" he said to the little boy in the sandbox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure," said the little boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The two little boys played for hours. They made sand castles and made really funny sounds with their mouths. Sounds which made them laugh real hard. Then the little boy's father came with a wheelchair to pick up his son. The little boy who had always wanted to fly ran over to the boy's father and whispered something into his ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That would be OK," said the man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little boy who had always wanted to fly like a bird ran over to his new friend and said, "You are my only friend and I wish that there was something that I could do to make you walk and run like other little boys and girls. But I can't. But there is something that I can do for you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little orphan boy turned around and told his new friend to slide up onto his back. He then began to run across the grass. Faster and faster he ran, carrying the little crippled boy on his back. Faster and harder he ran across the park. Harder and harder he made his legs travel. Soon the wind just whistled across the two little boys' faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little boy's father began to cry as he watched his beautiful little crippled son flapping his arms up and down in the wind, all the while yelling at the top of his voice,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'M FLYING, DADDY. I'M FLYING!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-1911749269962399390?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/1911749269962399390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/im-flying-daddyim-flying.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/1911749269962399390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/1911749269962399390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/im-flying-daddyim-flying.html' title='I&apos;m flying, Daddy...I&apos;m Flying...'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-8733625786535841909</id><published>2009-02-04T21:13:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T21:13:49.208-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The water pot</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A water bearer in China had two large pots, each hung on the ends of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;At the end of the long walk from the stream to the House, the cracked pot arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water to his house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of it's own imperfection. And miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you. I have been able to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full value from your efforts," the pot said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw. So I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you've watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the table. Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each of us has our own unique flaws. We're all cracked pots. But it's the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding. You've just got to take each person for what they are, and look for the good in them. Blessed are the flexible, for they shall not be bent out of shape. Remember to appreciate all the different people in your life.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-8733625786535841909?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/8733625786535841909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/water-pot.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8733625786535841909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8733625786535841909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/water-pot.html' title='The water pot'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-6220955921405346125</id><published>2009-02-04T21:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T22:09:49.453-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The work of ‘Allah’ in our lives</title><content type='html'>An old American Muslim lived on a farm in the mountains of eastern Kentucky with his young grandson. Each morning Grandpa was up early sitting at the kitchen table reading his Qur'an.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/reading%20quran" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i292.photobucket.com/albums/mm6/kasturio_01/OldmanreadingQuran.jpg" border="0" alt="old man reading quran Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His grandson wanted to be just like him and tried to imitate him inevery way he could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day the grandson asked, "Grandpa, I try to read the Qur'an justlike you but I don't understand it, and what I do understand I forgetas soon as I close the book.What good does reading the Qur'an do?" The Grandfather quietly turned from putting coal in the stove andreplied, "Take this coal basket down to the river and bring me back abasket of water."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy did as he was told, but all the water leaked out before he got back to the house. The grandfather laughed and said, "You'll have to move a little faster next time," and sent him back to the river with the basket to try again.This time the boy ran faster, but again the basket was empty before he returned home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of breath, he told his grandfather that it was impossible tocarry water in a basket, and he went to get a bucket instead.The old man said, "I don't want a bucket of water; I want a basket of water. You're just not trying hard enough," and he went out the door towatch the boy try again.At this point, the boy knew it was impossible, but he wanted to showhis grandfather that even if he ran as fast as he could, the water would leak out before he got back to the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy again dipped the basket into river and ran hard, but when hereached his grandfather the basket was again empty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of breath, he said, "See Grandpa, it's useless!" "So you think it is useless?" The old man said, "Look at the basket."The boy looked at the basket and for the first time realized that thebasket was different. It had been transformed from a dirty old coal basket and was now clean, inside and out."Son, that's what happens when you read the Qur'an.You might not understand or remember everything, but when you read it, you will be changed, inside and out. That is the work of Allah in our lives."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-6220955921405346125?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/6220955921405346125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/work-of-allah-in-our-lives.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6220955921405346125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6220955921405346125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/work-of-allah-in-our-lives.html' title='The work of ‘Allah’ in our lives'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-2649235385853737095</id><published>2009-02-04T03:54:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T21:51:59.230-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Precious Gift !</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A wise woman who was traveling in the mountains found a precious stone in a stream.The next day she met another traveler who was hungry, and the wise woman opened her bag to share her food. The hungry traveler saw the precious stone and asked the woman to give it to him. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She did so without hesitation. The traveler left rejoicing in his good fortune. He knew the stone was worth enough to give him security for a lifetime. But, a few days later, he came back to return the stone to the wise woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/rose%20quartz" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r71/Sparkington/P1010005.jpg" border="0" alt="Rose Quartz Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"I've been thinking," he said. "I know how valuable this stone is, but I give it back in the hope that you can give me something even more precious. Give me what you have within you that enabled you to give me this stone.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sometimes it's not the wealth you have but what's inside you that others need…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-2649235385853737095?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/2649235385853737095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/precious-gift.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2649235385853737095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2649235385853737095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/precious-gift.html' title='Precious Gift !'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-2046546634328152296</id><published>2009-02-04T03:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T03:53:22.510-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Desk Top Yoga</title><content type='html'>All you need is a few minutes to experience a calming break. Use one of the following easy, no-equipment- necessary relaxes any time you feel stressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warm your hands. Stress can make you feel cold, especially in the throes of winter. Run your hands and wrists under warm water for a few minutes, says Bradley Frederick, D.C., director of the International Institute of Sports Medicine in Los Angeles. After patting them dry, wrap them around a mug of steaming tea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gently hold a pencil between your teeth without biting. This action prompts you to relax your facial muscles, which helps relieve tension, says Fred Sheftell, M.D., director of the New England Center for Headache in Stamford, Connecticut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Press on your temples for three to five minutes. Massaging nerves in this area is an acupressure technique that relaxes muscles in other parts of the body, says Emmett Miller, M.D., author of Deep Healing: The Essence of Mind/Body Medicine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breathe slow and deep, emphasizing the exhalation for the most calming effect. Breathe in through your nose to a count of 4; pause slightly, then breathe out through your nose to a count of 6, prolonging the exhale. Pause briefly, and repeat -- several times, if possible. Use this breathing technique as a quick relaxer and tension diffuser -- not unlike counting to 10 when you're angry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a few minutes to think positive, restful thoughts -- a little mental time-out. You could pause to remember why you're doing all this shopping, cooking, and decorating anyway -- because you love your friends and family, and you're lucky enough to spend time with them over the holidays.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-2046546634328152296?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/2046546634328152296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/desk-top-yoga.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2046546634328152296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2046546634328152296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/desk-top-yoga.html' title='Desk Top Yoga'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-3395298375767321951</id><published>2009-02-04T03:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T23:31:38.821-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Glass of Milk</title><content type='html'>One day, a poor boy Howard Kelly was selling goods from door to door to pay his way through school, found he had only one thin dime left, and he was hungry. He decided he would ask for a meal at the next house. However, he lost his nerve when a lovely young woman opened the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/glass%20of%20milk" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj267/Jennifaa_Lee/milk.jpg" border="0" alt="glass of milk Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of a meal he asked for a drink of water. She thought he looked hungry so brought him a large glass of milk. He drank it so slowly, and then asked, How much do I owe you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't owe me anything," she replied. "Mother has taught us never to accept pay for a kindness."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said ... "Then I thank you from my heart."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Howard Kelly left that house, he not only felt stronger physically, but his faith in God and man was strong also. He had been ready to give up and quit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many year's later that same young woman became critically ill. The local doctors were baffled. They finally sent her to the big city, where they called in specialists to study her rare disease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr.. Howard Kelly was called in for the consultation. When he heard the name of the town she came from, a strange light filled his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Immediately he rose and went down the hall of the hospital to her room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dressed in his doctor's gown he went in to see her. He recognized her at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He went back to the consultation room determined to do his best to save her life. From that day he gave special attention to her case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a long struggle, the battle was won.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Kelly requested the business office to pass the final bill to him for approval. He looked at it, then wrote something on the edge and the bill was sent to her room. She feared to open it, for she was sure it would take the rest of her life to pay for it all. Finally she looked, and something caught her attention on the side of the bill. She read these words ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Paid in full with one glass of milk"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Signed) Dr. Howard Kelly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tears of joy flooded her eyes as her happy heart prayed: "Thank You, God, that Your love has spread broad through human hearts and hands."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a saying which goes something like this: Bread cast on the waters comes back to you. The good deed you do today may benefit you or someone you love at the least expected time. If you never see the deed again at least you will have made the world a better place - And, after all, isn't that what life is all about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The hardest thing to learn in life is which bridge to cross and which -- To burn&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-3395298375767321951?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/3395298375767321951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/glass-of-milk.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/3395298375767321951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/3395298375767321951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/glass-of-milk.html' title='A Glass of Milk'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-6435518393783100123</id><published>2009-02-04T03:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T03:38:17.337-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Potato Garden</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;An old man lived alone in Minnesota. He wanted to spade his potato garden,but it was very hard work. His only son, who would have helped him, was inprison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and mentioned his situation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dear Son,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am feeling pretty bad because it looks like I won't be able to plant mypotato garden this  year. I hate to miss doing the garden, because your mother always loved planting time. I'm just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. If you were here, all my troubles would be over. I know you would dig the plot for me, if you weren't in prison.  Love, Dad.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Shortly, the old man received this telegram: For Heaven's sake, Dad, don't dig up the garden!! That's where I buried the GUNS!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 4a.m. the next morning, a dozen police officers showed up and dug up the  entire garden without finding any guns. Confused,the old man wrote another note to his son telling him what happened, and asked him what to do next. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;His son's reply was: "Go ahead and plant your potatoes, Dad.. It's the best I could do for you from here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Moral:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;NO MATTER WHERE YOU ARE IN THE WORLD, IF YOU HAVE DECIDED TO DO SOMETHING DEEP FROM YOUR HEART YOU CAN DO IT. IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN THE THOUGHT THAT MATTERS...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-6435518393783100123?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/6435518393783100123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/potato-garden.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6435518393783100123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6435518393783100123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/potato-garden.html' title='Potato Garden'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-5739919139964587177</id><published>2009-02-04T03:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T23:26:14.455-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Red rose for my Mother</title><content type='html'>A man stopped at a flower shop to order some flowers to be wired to his mother who lived two hundred miles away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he got out of his car he noticed a young girl sitting on the curb sobbing. He asked her what was wrong and she replied, "I wanted to buy a red rose for my mother. But I only have seventy-five cents, and a rose costs two dollars."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man smiled and said, "Come on in with me. I'll buy you a rose." He bought the little girl her rose and ordered his own mother's flowers. As they were leaving he offered the girl a ride home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, "Yes, please! You can take me to my mother." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She directed him to a cemetery, where she placed the rose on a freshly dug grave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/red%20roses" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i416.photobucket.com/albums/pp241/CECELIA_121/991vloveallneed.gif" border="0" alt="Red Roses Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man returned to the flower shop, cancelled the wire order, picked up a bouquet and drove the two hundred miles to his mother's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the Story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mother is always a blessing, motivation and inspiration to all those who are having mother. and my advice is to please respect and love her if she is with you then you are lucky and try to make her happy and smiling and take her blessing this is one of the best gift in this life and here after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the Inspiring Quotes which tell not to give up in life so you can learn something from these Quotes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Never expect things to happen. Struggle and make them happen. Never expect yourself to be given a good value. Create a value of your own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) If a drop of water falls in lake there is no identity. But if it falls on a leaf of lotus it shine like a pearl. So choose the best place where you would shine..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Falling down is not defeat...defeat is when your refuse to get up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Ship is always safe at shore... but is is not built for it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) When your successful your well wishers know who you are when you are unsuccessful you know who your well-wishers are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) It is great confidence in a friend to tell him your faults; greater to tell  him/her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7)  "To the world you might be one person, but  to one person you just might be the world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) "Even the word 'IMPOSSIBLE' says 'I M POSSIBLE' "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) Effort is important, but knowing where to make an effort in your  life makes all the difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May ALLAH / God Bless You All,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never take some one for granted. Hold every person Close to your Heart because you might wake up one day and realise that you have lost a diamond while you were too busy collecting stones." Remember this always in life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-5739919139964587177?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/5739919139964587177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/red-rose-for-my-mother.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5739919139964587177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5739919139964587177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/red-rose-for-my-mother.html' title='Red rose for my Mother'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-1995974693333323191</id><published>2009-02-04T03:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T03:34:09.291-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unconditional love</title><content type='html'>A story is told about a soldier who was finally coming home after having fought in Vietnam. He called his parents from San Francisco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom and Dad, I'm coming home, but I've a favor to ask. I have a friend I'd like to bring home with me." "Sure," they replied, "we'd love to meet him." "There's something you should know the son continued, "he was hurt pretty badly in the fighting. He stepped on a land mind and lost anarm and a leg. He has nowhere else to go, and I want him to come live with us.""I'm sorry to hear that, son. Maybe we can help him find somewhere to live." "No, Mom and Dad, I want him to live with us."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Son," said the father, "you don't know what you're asking. Someone with such a handicap would be a terrible burden on us. We have our own lives to live, and we can't let something like this interfere with our lives. I think you should just come home and forget about this guy. He'll find a way to live on his own."At that point, the son hung up the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The parents heard nothing more from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days later, however, they received a call from the San Francisco police. Their son had died after falling from a building, they were told. The police believed it was suicide. The grief-stricken parents flew to San Francisco and were taken to the city morgue to identify the body of their son. They recognized him, but to their horror they also discovered something they didn't know, their son had only one arm and one leg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The parents in this story are like many of us. We find it easy to love those who are good-looking or fun to have around, but we don't like people who inconvenience us or make us feel uncomfortable. We would rather stay away from people who aren't as healthy, beautiful, or smart as we are. Thankfully, there's someone who won't treat us that way. Someone who loves us with an unconditional love that welcomes us into the forever family, regardless of how messed up we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, before you tuck yourself in for the night, say a little prayer that God will give you the strength you need to accept people as they are, and to help us all be more understanding of those who are different from us!!! There's a miracle called Friendship That dwells in the heart Youdon't know how it happens Or when it gets started But you know the special lift It always brings And you realize that Friendship Is God's most precious gift! Friends are a very rare jewel, indeed. They make you smile and encourage you to succeed They lend an ear, they share a word of praise, and they always want to open their hearts to us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-1995974693333323191?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/1995974693333323191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/unconditional-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/1995974693333323191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/1995974693333323191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/unconditional-love.html' title='Unconditional love'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-6888196306668249168</id><published>2009-02-04T03:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T20:15:57.792-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Puppy !</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A store owner was tacking a sign above his door that read "Puppies For Sale." Signs like that have a way of attracting small children, and sure enough, a little boy appeared under the store owner's sign. "How much are you going to sell the puppies for?" he asked. The store owner replied, "Anywhere from $30 to $50." The little boy reached in his pocket and pulled out some change. "I have $2.37," he said. "Can I please look at them?" The store owner smiled and whistled and out of the kennel came Lady, who ran down the aisle of his store followed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One puppy was lagging considerably behind. Immediately the little boy singled out the lagging, limping puppy and said, "What's wrong with that little dog?" The store owner explained that the veterinarian had examined the little puppy and had discovered it didn't have a hip socket. It would always limp. It would always be lame. The little boy became excited. "That is the puppy that I want to buy." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The store owner said, "No, you don't want to buy that little dog. If you really want him, I'll just give him to you." The little boy got quite upset. He looked straight into the store owner's eyes, pointing his finger, and said, "I don't want you to give him to me. That little dog is worth every bit as much as all the other dogs and I'll pay full price. In fact, I'll give you $2.37 now, and 50 cents a month until I have him paid for." The store owner countered, "You really don't want to buy this little dog. He is never going to be able to run and jump and play with you like the other puppies." To his surprise, the little boy reached down and rolled up his pant leg to reveal a badly twisted, crippled left leg supported by a big metal brace. He looked up at the store owner and softly replied, "Well, I don't run so well myself, and the little puppy will need someone who understands!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/little%20boy%20with%20puppy" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk39/sarahbrimmer/Puppy-Love-Print-C10093991.jpg" border="0" alt="puppy love Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ALL need someone who understands! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-6888196306668249168?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/6888196306668249168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/we-all-need-someone-who-understands.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6888196306668249168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6888196306668249168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/we-all-need-someone-who-understands.html' title='Little Puppy !'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-5536008435315974828</id><published>2009-02-04T03:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T03:26:09.255-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Corporate Lessons - Not for children</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CORPORATE LESSON 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man is getting into the shower just as his wife is finishing up her shower when the doorbell rings. After a few seconds of arguing over which one should go and answer the doorbell, the wife gives up, quickly wraps herself up in a towel and runs downstairs. When she opens the  door, there stands Bob, the next door neighbor. Before she says a word, Bob says, "I'll give you $ 800 just to drop that towel that you have on". After thinking for a moment, the woman drops her towel and stands naked in front of Bob. Bob has a close look at her for a few seconds,  hands over $800 and quietly leaves. Confused, but excited about her good fortune, the woman wraps back up in the towel and goes upstairs. When she gets back to the bathroom, her husband asks from the shower "Who was that?" "It was Bob the next door neighbour," she replies. "Great," the husband says, "did he say anything about the! $ 800 he owes me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MORAL OF THE STORY: Share critical credit information with your stakeholders to prevent avoidable exposure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CORPORATE LESSON 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A priest was driving along and saw a nun on the side of the road, he stopped and offered her a lift which she gladly accepted. She got in and crossed her legs, forcing her gown to open and reveal a lovely leg. The priest had a look and nearly had an accident. After controlling the car, he stealthily slid his hand up her leg. The nun looked at him and immediately said, "Father, remember psalm 129?" The priest was flustered and apologised profusely. He forced himself to remove his hand. However, he was unable to remove his eyes from her leg. Further on, while changing gear, he let his hand slide up her leg again. The nun once again said, "Father, remember psalm 129?" Once again the priest apologised. "Sorry sister, but the mind is weak."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arriving at the convent, the nun got out, gave him a meaningful glance and went on her way. On his arrival at the church, the priest rushed to retrieve a bible and looked up psalm 129. It said, "Go forth and seek; further up, you will find glory."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MORAL OF THE STORY: Always be well informed in your job; or, you might miss great opportunities!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CORPORATE LESSON 3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A young executive was leaving the office at 6 PM when he found the CEO standing in front of a shredder with a piece of paper in his hand. "Listen," said the CEO, "this is a very sensitive and important document and my secretary has left. Can you make this thing work?"  "Certainly, Sir" said the young executive. He turned the machine on, inserted the paper, and pressed the start button. "Excellent, excellent!" said the CEO as his paper disappeared inside the machine. "I just need one copy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MORAL OF THE STORY: Never, never assume that your BOSS knows everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CORPORATE LESSON 4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were these 4 guys, Russian President Putin, Germany's Chancellor Kohl, Pakistan Dictator Musharraf and French Premiere Chirac who found this small genie bottle. When they rubbed the bottle, a genie appears. Thankful that the 4 guys had released him out of the bottle, he said, "Next to you all are 4 swimming pools, I will give each of you a wish. When you run towards the pool and jump, you shout what you want the pool of water to become, then your wish will come true." The French Premiere Chirac wanted to start. He ran towards the pool, jumped and shouted WINE". The pool immediately changed into a pool of wine. The Frenchman was so happy swimming and drinking from the pool. Next is the Russian President Putin turn, he did the same and shouted, "VODKA" and  immersed himself into a pool of vodka. The German was next and he jumped and shouted, "BEER". He was so contented with his beer pool. The last is Pakistan's Musharraf . He was running towards the pool when suddenly he steps on a banana peel. He slipped towards the pool and shouted, "SHIT!!!!!!!........."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MORAL OF THE STORY: Mind your language, you never know what it will land you in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CORPORATE LESSON  5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Sales Engineer, a Deputy Manager and their boss are on their way to a meeting. On their way through a park, they come across a wonder lamp. They rub the lamp and a ghost appears. The ghost says, "Normally, one is granted three wishes but as you are three, I will allow one wish each"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the eager Deputy Manager shouted, I want the first wish. I want to be in the Bahamas, on a fast boat and have no worries. "Pfufffff, and he was gone. Now the Sales Engineer could not keep quiet and shouted. "I want to be in Florida with beautiful girls, plenty of food and cocktails. "Pfufffff, and he was also gone. The boss calmly said, "I want these two idiots back in the office after lunch ".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MORAL OF THE STORY: Always allow the boss to speak first &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-5536008435315974828?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/5536008435315974828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/corporate-lessons-not-for-children.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5536008435315974828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5536008435315974828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/corporate-lessons-not-for-children.html' title='Corporate Lessons - Not for children'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-4910960931275036624</id><published>2009-02-04T03:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T20:34:17.244-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My mummy loves White Rose</title><content type='html'>On the last day before Christmas, I hurried to go to the supermarket to buy the remaining of the gift I didn't manage to buy earlier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I saw all the people there, I started to complain to myself," It is going to take forever here and I still have so many other places to go. Christmas really is getting more and more annoying every year. How I wish I could just lie down, go to sleep and only wake up after it..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nonetheless, I made my way to the toy section, and there I started to curse the prices, wondering if after all kids really play with such expensive toys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While looking in the toy section, I noticed a small boy of about 5 years old, pressing a doll against his chest. He kept on touching the hair of the doll and looked so sad. I wondered who was this doll for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the little boy turned to the old woman next to him, "Granny, are you sure I don't have Enough money?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old lady replied, " You know that you don't have enough money to buy this doll, my dear."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she asked him to stay here for 5 minutes while she went to look around. She left quickly. The little boy was still holding the doll in his hand. Finally, I started to walk toward him and I asked him who did he want to give this doll to. "It is the doll that my sister loved most and wanted so much for this Christmas. She was so sure that Santa Claus would bring it to her." I replied to him that maybe Santa Claus will bring it to her, after all, and not to worry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he replied to me sadly. " No, Santa Claus can not bring it to her where she is now. I have to give the doll to my mother so that she can give it to her when she goes there." His eyes were so sad while saying this. "My sister has gone to be with God. Daddy says that Mummy will also go to see God very soon, so I thought that she could bring the doll with her to give it to my sister." My heart nearly stopped. The little boy looked up at me and said, " I told daddy to tell mummy not to go yet. I asked him to wait until I come back from the supermarket."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he showed me a very nice photo of him where he Was laughing. He then told me, " I also want mummy to take this photo with her so that she will not forget me." I love my mummy and I wish she doesn't have to leave me but daddy says that she has to go to be with my little sister."Then he looked again at the doll with sad eyes, very quietly. I quickly reached for my wallet and took a few notes and said to the boy, "What if we checked again, just in case if you have enough money?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Ok," he said. "I hope that I have enough." I added some of my money to his without him seeing and we started to count it. There was enough for the doll, and even some spare money. The little boy said, "Thank you God for giving me enough money."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he looked at me and added, " I asked yesterday before I slept for God to make sure I have enough money to buy this doll so that mummy can give it to my sister. He heard me." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I also wanted to have enough money to buy a white rose for my mummy, but I didn't dare to ask God too much. But He gave me enough to buy the doll and the white rose." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/white%20roses" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i386.photobucket.com/albums/oo303/prommayanee/flw-511.jpg" border="0" alt="White roses Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know, my mummy loves white rose." A few minutes later, the old lady came again and I left with my trolley. I finished my shopping in a totally different state from when I started. I couldn't get the little boy out of my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I remembered a local newspaper article 2 days ago, which mentioned of a drunk man in a truck who hit a car where there was one young lady and a little girl. The little girl died right away, and the mother was left in a critical state. The family had to decide whether to pull the plug on the life-assisting machine, because the young lady would not be able to get out of the coma. Was this the family of the little boy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days after this encounter with the little boy, I read in the newspaper that the young lady had passed away. I couldn't stop myself and went to buy a bunch of white roses and I went to the mortuary where the body of the young woman was exposed for people to see and make last wish before burial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was there, in her coffin, holding a beautiful white rose in her hand with the photo of the little boy and the doll placed over her chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left the place crying, feeling that my life had been changed forever. The love that this little boy had for his mother and his sister is still, to that day, hard to imagine. And in a fraction of a second, a drunk man had taken all this away from him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-4910960931275036624?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/4910960931275036624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/you-know-my-mummy-loves-white-rose.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4910960931275036624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4910960931275036624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/you-know-my-mummy-loves-white-rose.html' title='My mummy loves White Rose'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-3819945358455634667</id><published>2009-02-04T03:19:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T01:20:59.202-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Real Meaning of Peace</title><content type='html'>"There once was a king who offered a prize to the artist who would paint the best picture of peace. Many artists tried. The king looked at all the pictures. But there were only two he really liked, and he had to choose between them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One picture was of a calm lake. The lake was a perfect mirror for peaceful towering mountains all around it. Overhead was a blue sky with fluffy white clouds.  All who saw this picture thought that it was a perfect picture of peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other picture had mountains, too. But these were rugged and bare. Above was an angry sky, from which rain fell and in which lightning played. Down the side of the mountain tumbled a foaming waterfall. This did not look peaceful at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/water%20fall" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i250.photobucket.com/albums/gg254/PaladinDreamer/Water/movingwaterfall.gif" border="0" alt="Moving water fall Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when the king looked closely, he saw behind the waterfall a tiny bush growing in a crack in the rock. In the bush a mother bird had built her nest. There, in the midst of the rush of angry water, sat the mother bird on her nest - in perfect peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which picture do you think won the prize? The king chose the second picture. Do you know why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because," explained the king, "peace does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble, or hard work. Peace means to be in the midst of all those things and still be calm in your heart. That is the real meaning of peace."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-3819945358455634667?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/3819945358455634667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/real-meaning-of-peace.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/3819945358455634667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/3819945358455634667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/real-meaning-of-peace.html' title='Real Meaning of Peace'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i250.photobucket.com/albums/gg254/PaladinDreamer/Water/th_movingwaterfall.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-6931797130434499119</id><published>2009-02-04T03:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T03:19:38.887-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Parable (4 wives)</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time there was a rich King who had four wives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He loved the 4th wife the most and adorned her with rich robes and treated her to the finest of delicacies. He gave her nothing! but the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also loved the 3rd wife very much and was always showing her off to neighboring kingdoms. However, he feared that one day she would leave him for another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also loved his 2nd wife. She was his confident and was always kind, considerate and patient with him. Whenever the King faced a problem, he could confide in her, and she would help him get through the difficult times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The King's 1st wife was a very loyal partner and had made great contributions in maintaining his wealth and kingdom. However, he did not love the first wife. Although she loved him deeply, he hardly took notice of her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, the King fell ill and he knew his time was short. He thought of his luxurious life and wondered, I now have four wives with me, but when I die, I'll be all alone."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus, he asked the 4th wife, "I loved you the most, endowed you with the finest clothing and showered great care over you. Now that I'm dying, will ! you follow me and keep me company?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No way!", replied the 4th wife, and she walked away without another word. Her answer cut like a sharp knife right into his heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sad King then asked the 3rd wife, "I loved you all my life. Now that I'm dying, will you follow me and keep me company?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No!", replied the 3rd wife. "Life is too good! When you die, I'm going to remarry!" His heart sank and turned cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then asked the 2nd wife, "I have always turned to you for help and you've always been there for me. When I die, will you follow me and keep me company?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry, I can't help you out this time!", replied the 2nd wife. "At the very most, I can only walk with you to your grave." Her answer struck him like a bolt of lightning, and the King was devastated.&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then a voice called out: "I'll go with you. I'll follow you no matter where you go." The King looked up, and there was his first wife. She was very s! kinny as she suffered from malnutrition and neglect. Greatly grieved, the King said, "I should have taken much better care of you when I had the chance!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In truth, we all have the 4 wives in our lives:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our 4th wife is our body. No matter how much time and effort we lavish in making it look good, it will leave us when we die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our 3rd wife is our possessions, status and wealth. When we die, it will all go to others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our 2nd wife is our family and friends. No matter how much they have been there for us, the furthest they can stay by us is up to the grave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And our 1st wife is our Soul. Often neglected in pursuit of wealth, power and pleasures of the world. However, our Soul is the only thing that will follow us wherever we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cultivate, strengthen and cherish it now, for it is the only part of us that will follow us to the throne of God and continue with us throughout Eternity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thought for the day:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember, when the world pushes you to your knees, you're in the perfect position to pray.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-6931797130434499119?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/6931797130434499119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/parable-4-wives.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6931797130434499119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6931797130434499119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/parable-4-wives.html' title='Parable (4 wives)'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-1103953636636431075</id><published>2009-02-04T03:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T03:18:53.632-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Effective Team Work</title><content type='html'>A holy man was having a conversation with the Lord one day and said," Lord, I would like to know what Heaven and Hell are like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lord led the holy man to two doors. He opened one of the doors and the holy man looked in. In the middle of the room was a large round table. In the middle of the table was a large pot of stew which smelled delicious and made the holy man's mouth water. The people sitting around the table were thin and sickly. They appeared to be famished. They were holding spoons with very long handles and each found it possible to reach into the pot of stew and take a spoonful, but because the handle was longer than their arms, they could not get the spoons back into their mouths. The holy man shuddered at the sight of their misery and suffering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lord said, "You have seen Hell”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They went to the next room and opened the door. It was exactly the same as the first one. There was the large round table with the large pot of stew which made the holy man's mouth water. The people were equipped with the same long-handled spoons, but here the people were well nourished and plump, laughing and talking. The holy man said, "I don't understand".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It is simple said the Lord, " it requires but one skill. You see, they have learned to feed each other. While the greedy think only of themselves."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its people's attitude that makes our place of work, a hell or heaven to them!!  'Help and Seek Help'  this makes all the difference to each individual's life and makes our lives hell or otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Success and happiness is all about effective team-work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-1103953636636431075?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/1103953636636431075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/effective-team-work.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/1103953636636431075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/1103953636636431075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/effective-team-work.html' title='Effective Team Work'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-4426828271695879614</id><published>2009-02-04T03:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T23:57:59.340-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I saw a miracle today</title><content type='html'>One day a woman was walking down the street when she spied a beggar sitting in the corner. The man was elderly, unshaven, and ragged. As he sat there, pedestrians walked by him giving him dirty looks. They clearly wanted nothing to do with him because of who he was -- a dirty, homeless man. But when she saw him, the woman was moved to compassion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was very cold that day and the man had his tattered coat -- more like an old suit coat rather than a warm coat -- wrapped around him. She stopped and looked down. "Sir?" she asked. "Are you all right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man slowly looked up. This was a woman clearly accustomed to the finer things of life. Her coat was new. She looked like she had never missed a meal in her life. His first thought was that she wanted to make fun of him, like so many others had done before. "Leave me alone," he growled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To his amazement, the woman continued standing. She was smiling -- her even white teeth displayed in dazzling rows. "Are you hungry?" she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No," he answered sarcastically. "I've just come from dining with the president. Now go away."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman's smile became even broader. Suddenly the man felt a gentle hand under his arm. "What are you doing, lady?" the man asked angrily. "I said to leave me alone."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then a policeman came up. "Is there any problem, ma'am?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/police%20man" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w290/saagar8781/Policeman.jpg" border="0" alt="police man Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No problem here, officer," the woman answered. "I'm just trying to get this man to his feet. Will you help me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The officer scratched his head. "That's old Jack. He's been a fixture around here for a couple of years. What do you want with him?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"See that cafeteria over there?" she asked. "I'm going to get him something to eat and get him out of the cold for awhile."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you crazy, lady?" the homeless man resisted. "I don't want to go in there!" Then he felt strong hands grab his other arm and lift him up. "Let me go, officer. I didn't do anything."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is a good deal for you, Jack," the officer answered. "Don't blow it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, and with some difficulty, the woman and the police officer got Jack into the cafeteria and sat him at a table in a remote corner. It was the middle of the morning, so most of the breakfast crowd had already left and the lunch bunch had not yet arrived. The manager strode across the cafeteria and stood by the table. "What's going on here, officer?" he asked. "What is all this. Is this man in trouble?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This lady brought this man in here to be fed," the policeman answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not in here!" the manager replied angrily. "Having a person like that here is bad for business."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old Jack smiled a toothless grin. "See, lady. I told you so. Now if you'll let me go. I didn't want to come here in the first place."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman turned to the cafeteria manager and smiled. "Sir, are you familiar with Eddy and Associates, the banking firm down the street?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course I am," the manager answered impatiently. "They hold their weekly meetings in one of my banquet rooms."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And do you make a goodly amount of money providing food at these weekly meetings?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What business is that of yours?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I, sir, am Penelope Eddy, president and CEO of the company."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman smiled again. "I thought that might make a difference." She glanced at the cop who was busy stifling a giggle. "Would you like to join us in a cup of coffee and a meal, officer?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No thanks, ma'am," the officer replied. "I'm on duty."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Then, perhaps, a cup of coffee to go?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, ma'am. That would be very nice."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cafeteria manager turned on his heel. "I'll get your coffee for you right away, officer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The officer watched him walk away. "You certainly put him in his place," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That was not my intent. Believe it or not, I have a reason for all this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She sat down at the table across from her amazed dinner guest. She stared at him intently. "Jack, do you remember me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old Jack searched her face with his old, rheumy eyes "I think so -- I mean you do look familiar."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm a little older perhaps," she said. "Maybe I've even filled out more than in my younger days when you worked here, and I came through that very door, cold and hungry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ma'am?" the officer said questioningly. He couldn't believe that such a magnificently turned out woman could ever have been hungry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I was just out of college," the woman began. "I had come to the city looking for a job, but I couldn't find anything. Finally I was down to my last few cents and had been kicked out of my apartment. I walked the streets for days. It was February and I was cold and nearly starving. I saw this place and walked in on the off chance that I could get something to eat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack lit up with a smile. "Now I remember," he said. "I was behind the serving counter. You came up and asked me if you could work for something to eat. I said that it was against company policy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know," the woman continued. "Then you made me the biggest roast beef sandwich that I had ever seen, gave me a cup of coffee, and told me to go over to a corner table and enjoy it. I was afraid that you would get into trouble. Then, when I looked over, I saw you put the price of my food in the cash register. I knew then that everything would be all right."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So you started your own business?" Old Jack said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I got a job that very afternoon. I worked my way up. Eventually I started my own business that, with the help of God, prospered." She opened her purse and pulled out a business card. "When you are finished here, I want you to pay a visit to a Mr. Lyons. He's the personnel director of my company. I'll go talk to him now and I'm certain he'll find something for you to do around the office." She smiled. "I think he might even find the funds to give you a little advance so that you can buy some clothes and get a place to live until you get on your feet. And if you ever need anything, my door is always opened to you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were tears in the old man's eyes. "How can I ever thank you," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't thank me," the woman answered. "To God goes the glory. He led me to you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outside the cafeteria, the officer and the woman paused at the entrance before going their separate ways. "Thank you for all your help, officer," she said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"On the contrary, Ms. Eddy," he answered. "Thank you. I saw a miracle today, something that I will never forget. And...And thank you for the coffee."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She frowned. "I forgot to ask you whether you used crème or sugar. That's black."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The officer looked at the steaming cup of coffee in his hand. "Yes, I do take crème and sugar -- perhaps more sugar than is good for me." He patted his ample stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry," she said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't need it now," he replied smiling. "I've got the feeling that this coffee you bought me is going to taste as sweet as sugar."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-4426828271695879614?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/4426828271695879614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-saw-miracle-today.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4426828271695879614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4426828271695879614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-saw-miracle-today.html' title='I saw a miracle today'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-3734491435586404516</id><published>2009-02-04T03:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T03:15:52.361-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I ran into a stranger as he passed by, "Oh excuse me please" was my reply. He said, "Please excuse me too; I wasn't watching for you." We were very polite, this stranger and I. We went on our way and we said goodbye. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But at home a different story is told, How we treat our loved ones, young and old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Later that day, cooking the evening meal, my son stood beside me very still. When I turned, I nearly knocked him down. "Move out of the way," I said with a frown. He walked away, his little heart broken. I didn't realize how harshly I'd spoken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;While I lay awake in bed, God's still small voice came to me and said, "While dealing with a stranger, common courtesy you use, but the family you love, you seem to abuse. Go and look on the kitchen floor, You'll find some flowers there by the door. Those are the flowers he brought for you. He picked them himself: pink, yellow and blue. He stood very quietly not to spoil the surprise, you never saw the tears that filled his little eyes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;By this time, I felt very small, And now my tears began to fall. I quietly went and knelt by his bed;"Wake up, little one, wake up," I said.  "Are these the flowers you picked for me?" He smiled, "I found 'em, out by the tree. I picked 'em because they're pretty like you. I knew you'd like 'em, especially the blue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;" I said, "Son, I'm very sorry for the way I acted today; I shouldn't have yelled at you that way." He said, "Oh, Mom, that's okay. I love you anyway." I said, "Son, I love you too, and I do like the flowers, especially the blue."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FAMILY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Are you aware that if we die tomorrow, the company that we are working for could easily replace us in a matter of days. But the family we left behind will feel the loss for the rest of their lives. And come to think of it, we pour ourselves more into work than into our own family, an unwise investment indeed, don't you think? So what is behind the story? Think ….&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-3734491435586404516?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/3734491435586404516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/family.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/3734491435586404516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/3734491435586404516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/family.html' title='Family'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-8444365554083246663</id><published>2009-02-04T03:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T01:38:54.170-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Donkey in the Well !</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A farmer had an old donkey. One day the farmer's donkey fell down into a dry well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/donkey%20in%20the%20well" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee114/redrider76/donkey.jpg" border="0" alt="Curtis in a well. Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The animal cried piteously for hours as the farmer tried to figure out what to do. Finally he decided the animal was old and that the well needed to be covered anyway and that it just wasn't worth retrieving the donkey. So he invited all his neighbours to come over and help him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They all grabbed a shovel and began to shovel dirt into the well. At first, the donkey realized what was happening and cried horribly. Then, to everyone's amazement, he quietened down. A few shovel loads later, the farmer finally looked down the well and was astonished at what he saw. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;With every shovel of dirt that hit his back, the donkey was doing something amazing. He would shake it off and take a step up. As the farmer's neighbours continued to shovel dirt on top of the animal, he would shake it off and take a step up. Pretty soon, everyone was amazed as the donkey stepped up over the edge of the well and trotted off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It gives a great insight. Shake it off and step up. People may throw garbage, but shake the garbage off and step up and life will be different and divine.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-8444365554083246663?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/8444365554083246663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/donkey-in-well.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8444365554083246663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/8444365554083246663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/donkey-in-well.html' title='Donkey in the Well !'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-1236370585192225493</id><published>2009-02-04T03:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T00:29:02.110-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Apple Tree</title><content type='html'>Long back ago there was a huge apple tree. A little boy loved to play with it. He loves to climb the tree, love to eat apples...love to take the nap under its shadow. Times went on..The boy grew up...and he no longer plays around the tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day the boy came...The tree asked him.."Hi..Come and play with me..". The boy replied.."I am not a kid. I don't play around tree. I play with boys. I need money to buy toys”." The tree said..."I don’t have money but you can take all my apples and sell it. You will get the money." The boy picked all the apples of tree and went..He sold the apples and got money..he bought lots of toys..But he didn’t turn back..The tree was again sad..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/the%20apple%20tree" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p66/iamjefferson/AppleOrchird8.jpg" border="0" alt="Apple Tree Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day again the boy came, he became a young man now..The Tree said.."Hi...why are you sad ? Come and sit under my shadow..I am feeling very lonely without you". The boy said.."I don’t have time..I work for my family..I want to build home for them..I need money..". The tree said.."I don’t have money..You can take my branches and trunk and build your home.." The boy became happy..He cut all the branches and trunk of the tree and built a home for him..Again the tree became alone. The boy didn’t turn back. Time passes on..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a long time the boy came back..He was so old...Looking sad..Tired..and lonely..The tree asked him..."Why are you sad..I wish I can help you but I don’t have apples. I don’t have branches. Even I don’t have shadow...Nothing to offer you”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy (old man) replied..."I am tired of my life..I am alone...I just need you...Can I sit down at your roots." The boy (old man) sits down. Both were happy and weeping..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is the boy really cruel and selfish ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all are like him and treating our parent like that. The tree is like our parent. We love to play with them when we were kids. We leave them alone and come only when we are in need or in trouble. We don’t have time for our parent...No matter what, parent will always give everything to make us happy and solve our problems. And in return what they want. Just your company!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please love your parent...don’t forget them..give them time..give them your company..They will be happy by seeing you happy…please don’t leave your parent...gratitude them..One can get children as many as he wants, but parent he gets only once..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Send this small note to as many as you can...And pay regards to your parent. Thanks !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-1236370585192225493?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/1236370585192225493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/apple-tree.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/1236370585192225493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/1236370585192225493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/apple-tree.html' title='The Apple Tree'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-1595540736332590669</id><published>2009-02-04T03:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T03:08:24.772-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today is a gift...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it. In his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Days and weeks passed. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased room mate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you." Epilogue: There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations. Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled. If you want to feel rich, just count all the things you have that money can't buy. "Today is a gift, that's why it is called the present." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-1595540736332590669?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/1595540736332590669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/today-is-gift.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/1595540736332590669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/1595540736332590669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/today-is-gift.html' title='Today is a gift...'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-4950671777494222790</id><published>2009-02-04T03:03:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T21:18:59.377-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Minutes Management Course</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lesson One- 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;An eagle was sitting on a tree resting, doing nothing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A small rabbit saw the eagle and asked him, "Can I also sit like you and do nothing?" The eagle answered, "Sure, why not." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, the rabbit sat on the ground below the eagle and rested. All of a sudden, a fox appeared, jumped on the rabbit and ate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Management Message: -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;To be sitting and doing nothing, you must be sitting very, very high up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lesson Two- 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A turkey was chatting with a bull. "I would love to be able to get to the top of that tree," sighed the turkey, "but I haven't got the energy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, why don't you nibble on some of my droppings?" replied the bull. "They're packed with nutrients."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The turkey pecked at a lump of dung, and found it actually gave him enough strength to reach the lowest branch of the tree. The next day, after eating some more dung, he reached the second branch. Finally after the fourth day, the turkey was proudly perched at the top of the tree. He was promptly spotted by a farmer, who shot him out of the tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Management Message: -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Bullshit might get you to the top, but it won't keep you there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lesson Three- 3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little bird was flying south for the winter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so cold, the bird froze and fell to the ground into a large field. While he was lying there, a cow came by and dropped some dung on him. As the frozen bird lay there in the pile of cow dung, he began to realize how warm he was. The dung was actually thawing him out! He lay there all warm and happy, and soon began to sing for joy. A passing cat heard the bird singing and came to investigate. Following the sound to the pile of dung, the cat promptly dug him out and ate him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Management Message: -&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When you get shit on, it's better to say nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did you learn-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(1) Not everyone who shits on you is your enemy.&lt;br /&gt;(2) Not everyone who gets you out of shit is your friend.&lt;br /&gt;(3) And when you're in deep shit, it's best to keep your mouth shut!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus ends your three minute management course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-4950671777494222790?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/4950671777494222790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/three-minutes-management-course.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4950671777494222790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/4950671777494222790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/three-minutes-management-course.html' title='Three Minutes Management Course'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-2254418713098299993</id><published>2009-02-04T03:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T23:47:17.815-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Growing Good Corn</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;There was a Nebraska farmer who grew award-winning corn. Each year he entered his corn in the state fair where it won a blue ribbon. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One year a newspaper reporter interviewed him and learned something interesting about how he grew it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reporter discovered that the farmer  shared his seed corn with his  neighbors."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/good%20corn" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v465/gesym_elf/IMG_1632.jpg" border="0" alt="good corn Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How  can you afford to share your best seed corn with your neighbors when they are  entering corn in competition with yours  each year?" the reporter asked. "Why sir," said the farmer, "didn't you know? The wind picks up pollen  from the ripening corn and swirls it from field to field.  If my neighbors grow  inferior corn, cross-pollination will  steadily degrade the quality of my corn.  If I am to grow good  corn, I must help my neighbors grow good corn."  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He is  very much aware of the connectedness of life. His corn cannot improve unless  his neighbor's corn also improves. So it is in other dimensions. Those who  choose to be at peace must  help their neighbors to be at peace. Those who  choose to live well  must help others to live well, for the value of a life is  measured  by the lives it touches. And those who choose to be happy must  help  others to find happiness for the welfare of each is bound up  with the welfare  of all.The  lesson for each of us is this: if we are to grow good corn, we must help our  neighbors/colleagues grow good corn.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-2254418713098299993?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/2254418713098299993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/growing-good-corn.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2254418713098299993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2254418713098299993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/growing-good-corn.html' title='Growing Good Corn'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-2104132517764459737</id><published>2009-02-04T03:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T03:00:59.586-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We are spiritual beings !</title><content type='html'>A nurse took the tired, anxious serviceman to the bedside. "Your son is here," she said to the old man. She had to repeat the words several times before the patient's eyes opened. Heavily sedated because of the pain of his heart attack, he dimly saw the young uniformed Marine standing outside the oxygen tent. He reached out with  his hand. The Marine wrapped his toughened fingers around the old man's limp ones, squeezing a message of love and encouragement. The nurse brought a chair so that the Marine could sit beside the bed.&lt;br /&gt;All through the night the young Marine sat there in the poorly lighted ward, holding the old man's hand and offering him words of love and strength. Occasionally, the nurse suggested that the Marine move away and rest awhile. He refused. Whenever the nurse came into the ward, the Marine was oblivious of her and of the night noises of the hospital - the clanking of the oxygen tank, the laughter of the night staff members exchanging greetings, the cries and moans of the other patients. Now and then she heard him say a few gentle words. The dying man said nothing, only held tightly to his son all through the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along towards dawn, the old man died. The Marine released the now lifeless hand he had been holding and went to tell the nurse.  While she did what she had to do, he waited. Finally, she returned.  She started to offer words of sympathy, but the Marine interrupted her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who was that man?" he asked. The nurse was startled, "He was your father" she answered.&lt;br /&gt;"No, he wasn't," the Marine replied.  "I never saw him before in my life." Then why didn't you&lt;br /&gt;say something when I took you to him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I knew right away there had been a mistake, but I also knew he needed his son, and his son just wasn't here.  When I realized that he was too sick to tell whether or not I was his son, knowing how much he needed me, I stayed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next time someone needs you...be there. "Stay,   You'll be glad you did."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are not human beings going through a temporary spiritual experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are spiritual beings going through a temporary human experience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-2104132517764459737?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/2104132517764459737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/we-are-spiritual-beings.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2104132517764459737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2104132517764459737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/we-are-spiritual-beings.html' title='We are spiritual beings !'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-6389807793784596269</id><published>2009-02-04T02:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T03:00:15.808-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Put the Glass Down</title><content type='html'>When you leave office today. Study this small story, hope that makes a BIG change in you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor began his class by holding up a glass with some water in it. He held it up for all to see &amp;amp; asked the students,' How much do you think this glass weighs?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'50gms!' .... '100gms!' .....'125gms' ..the students answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'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?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'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 student. 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 &amp;amp; paralysis &amp;amp; have to go to hospital for sure!' ventured another student &amp;amp; all the students laughed. 'Very good. But during all this, did the weight of the glass change?' asked the professor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                   'No'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then what caused the arm ache &amp;amp; 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 &amp;amp; they seem OK. Think of them for a long time &amp;amp; they begin to ache. Hold it even longer &amp;amp; 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 &amp;amp; strong &amp;amp; can handle any issue, any challenge that comes your way!' So, When you leave office today, Remember to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                         'PUT THE GLASS DOWN TODAY! '&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-6389807793784596269?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/6389807793784596269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/put-glass-down.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6389807793784596269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/6389807793784596269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/put-glass-down.html' title='Put the Glass Down'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-3201578159220028556</id><published>2009-02-04T02:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T04:12:57.211-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you Depressed ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/inspirational%20words" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i146.photobucket.com/albums/r245/blackangel9/wise%20n%20nice%20words/inspirational-quotes-2.jpg" border="0" alt="understand u self Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe God wants us to meet a few wrong people before meeting the right ones so that when we finally meet the right person, we realize his worth.&lt;br /&gt;                                                                       &lt;br /&gt;When one door of happiness closes, another opens. Often we stare at the closed door and ignore the one which is open.&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                   &lt;br /&gt;It's true that we don't realize what we have until we lose it and it's also true that we are not aware what we've been missing until it arrives.&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                   &lt;br /&gt;There are moments in life when you miss someone so much that you just want to pick them from your dreams and hug them for real !&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                   &lt;br /&gt;The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes along their way.                                                                            &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                   &lt;br /&gt;Happiness belongs to those who cry, those who feel, those who have searched, and those who have tried…for only they can value the importance of people who have touched their lives.                                                                 &lt;br /&gt;Love begins with a smile, grows with a kiss and ends with a tear. The brightest future is always based on a forgotten past. You can't go on well in life until you bury your past failures and heartaches.&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                   &lt;br /&gt;Put yourself in other's shoes. If it hurts you, it probably hurts the other person  too..                                                                                   &lt;br /&gt;Dream what you want to dream; go where ever you want to go; be what you want to be, because you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you want to do. May you have enough  happiness to make you exult, enough trials to make you strong, enough sorrow to keep you human, enough hope to make you an optimist.             &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                   &lt;br /&gt;Don’t go for looks, they can be deceptive. Don't go for wealth; even that fades away. Go for someone who makes you smile because it takes only a smile to make a dark day seem bright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happiness keeps You Sweet, Trials keep You Strong, Sorrows keep You Human, Failures keeps You Humble, Success keeps You Glowing, But Only God keeps You Going!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knocked at heavens door today. God asked: "What can I do for you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said: "Please love, protect &amp;amp; bless the one reading this" He smiled &amp;amp; replied: "I already did!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love people. I love my family, my friends...but inside myself is a place where I live all alone...and that's where you renew your springs that never dry up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With warm regards and best wishes/nand &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(¨`·.·´¨) Always&lt;br /&gt;`·.¸(¨`·.·´¨) Keep&lt;br /&gt;(¨`·.·´¨)¸.·´ Smiling!&lt;br /&gt;`·.¸.·´&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-3201578159220028556?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/3201578159220028556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/are-you-depressed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/3201578159220028556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/3201578159220028556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/are-you-depressed.html' title='Are you Depressed ?'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i146.photobucket.com/albums/r245/blackangel9/wise%20n%20nice%20words/th_inspirational-quotes-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-1880099311618234087</id><published>2009-02-04T02:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T19:48:25.081-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Power of Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A long time ago in China, a girl named  Li-Li got married &amp;amp; went to live with her husband and mother-in-law. In a very  short time, Li-Li found that she couldn't get along with her mother-in-law at all. Their personalities were very different, and Li-Li was angered by many of Her  mother-in-law's habits. In addition, she criticized Li-Li constantly. Days passed, and weeks passed. Li-Li  and her mother-in-law never stopped arguing and  fighting. But what made the situation even worse was that, according to ancient Chinese tradition, Li-Li had to bow to her mother-in-law and obey her every wish. All the anger and unhappiness in the house was causing Li-Li's poor husband great distress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, Li-Li could not stand her mother-in-law's bad temper and dictatorship any longer, and she decided to do something about it!  Li-Li went to see her father's good friend, Mr. Huang, who sold herbs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/chinese%20herbs" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v218/gorgeousgirl607/2007/Shanghai%20June%2015-19%202007/June%2017%202007/DSC01919.jpg" border="0" alt="Chinese herbs shops Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She told him the situation and asked if he would give her some poison so that she could solve the problem once and for all. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mr. Huang thought for awhile, and finally said, "Li-Li, I will  help you solve your problem, but you must listen to me and obey what I tell  you."  Li-Li said, "Yes, Mr. Huang, I will do whatever you tell me to do."  Mr. Huang went into the back room, and returned in a few minutes with a package of herbs.  He told Li-Li,  "You can't use a quick-acting poison to get rid of  your mother-in-law, because that would cause people to become suspicious.  Therefore, I have given you a number of herbs that will slowly build up  poison in her body. Every other day prepare some delicious meal and put a little of these herbs in her serving. Now, in order to make sure that nobody suspect you, when she dies, you must be very careful to act very friendly towards her. "Don't argue with her, obey her every  wish, and  treat her like a queen." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Li-Li was so happy. She thanked Mr. Huang and hurried home to start  her plot of murdering her mother-in-law. Weeks went by, and months went  by, and every other day, Li-Li served the specially treated food to her  mother-in-law. She remembered what Mr. Huang had said about avoiding  suspicion, so she controlled her temper, obeyed her mother-in-law, and  treated her like her own mother. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After six months had passed, the whole household had changed. Li-Li  had practiced controlling her temper so much that she  found that she almost never got mad or upset. She hadn't had an argument with her mother-in-law in six months  because she now seemed much kinder and easier to get along with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mother-in-law's attitude toward Li-Li changed, and she began to love Li-Li like her own daughter. She kept telling friends and relatives  that Li-Li was the best daughter-in-law one could ever find. Li-Li and her mother-in-law were now treating each other like a real mother and daughter. Li-Li's  husband was very happy to see what was happening. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, Li-Li came to see Mr. Huang and asked for his help again.  She said, "Dear  Mr. Huang, please help me to keep the poison from killing  my mother-in-law! She's changed into such a nice woman, and I  love her  like my own mother. I do not want her to die because of the poison I gave her."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Huang smiled and nodded his head. "Li-Li, there's nothing to worry about. I never gave you any poison. The herbs I gave you were vitamins to improve her health. The only poison was in your mind and your attitude toward her, but that has been all washed away by the love which you gave to her."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAVE YOU REALIZED that how you treat others is exactly how they will treat you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a wise Chinese saying: "The person who loves others will also be loved in return."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God might be trying to work in another person's life through you. Send this to your friends and spread the POWER OF LOVE. Remember, if you delete this mail nothing will happen. No one will die or fall sick. But... if you send it to others your may change their life.  After all you have got nothing to lose but a lot to gain. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-1880099311618234087?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/1880099311618234087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/power-of-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/1880099311618234087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/1880099311618234087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/power-of-love.html' title='The Power of Love'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-5434809607467009736</id><published>2009-02-04T01:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T19:43:47.580-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Mother</title><content type='html'>My mom only had one eye. I hated her... she was such an embarrasement. My mom ran a small shop at a flea market. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/woman%20selling" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o99/MollysQuitoPics/DSC01848.jpg" border="0" alt="woman selling bread in otavalo Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She collected  little weeds and such to sell...anything for the money we needed.  She was such an embarrassment. There was this one day during elementary school. I remember that it was field day, and my mom came. I was so embarrassed. How could she do this to me? I threw her a hateful look and ran out. The next day at school..."Your mom only has one eye?!" and they taunted me. I wished  that  my  mom would just disappear from this world so I said to my mom, "Mom, why don't you have the other eye?! You're only going to make me a laughingstock. Why don't you just die?" My mom did not respond. I guess I felt a little bad, but at the same time, it felt good to think that I had said what I'd wanted to say all this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May be it was because my mom hadn't punished me, but I didn't think that I had hurt her feelings very badly. That night...I woke up, and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. My mom was crying there, so quietly, as if she was afraid that she might wake me. I took a look at her, and then turned away. Because of the thing I had said to her earlier, there was something pinching at me in the corner of my heart. Even so, I hated my mother who was crying out of her one eye. So I told myself that I would grow up and become successful, because I hated my one-eyed mom and our desperate poverty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I studied really hard. I left my mother and came to Seoul and studied, and got accepted in the Seoul University with all the confidence I had.  Then, I got married. I bought a house of my own. Then I had kids, too. Now, I'm living happily as a successful man. I like it here because it's a place that doesn't remind me of my mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This happiness was getting bigger and bigger, when someone unexpected came to see me "What?! Who's this?!" ...It was my mother...Still with her one eye.  It felt as if the whole sky was falling apart on me. My little girl ran away, scared of my mom's eye. And I asked her, "Who are you? I  don't know you!!!" as if he trying to make that real. I screamed at her "How dare you come to my house and scare my daughter! GET OUT OF HERE!  NOW!!!" And to this, my mother quietly answered, "oh, I'm so sorry. I may have gotten the wrong address," and she disappeared. Thank goodness... she doesn't recognize me. I was quite relieved. I told myself that I wasn't going to care, or think about this for the rest of my life. Then a wave of relief came upon me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, a letter regarding a school reunion came to my house. I lied to my wife saying that I was going on a business trip. After the reunion, I went down to the old shack, that I used to call a house...just out of curiosity... there, I found my mother fallen on the cold ground. But I did not shed a single tear. She had a piece of paper in her hand.... it was a letter to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She wrote:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son...I think my life has been long enough now. And…I won't visit Seoul anymore... but would it be too much to ask if I wanted you to come visit me once in a while? I miss you so much. And I was so glad when I heard you were coming for the reunion. But I decided not to go to the school.... For you...  I'm sorry that I only have one eye, and I was an embarrassment for you. You see, when you were very little, you got into an accident, and lost your eye. As a mother, I couldn't stand watching you having to grow up with only  one  eye...  so I gave you mine...I was so proud of my son that was seeing a whole new world for me, in my place, with that eye. I was never upset at you for anything you did. The couple times that you were angry with me. I thought to myself, 'it's because he loves me.' I miss the times when you were still young around me. I miss you so much. I love you. You mean the world to me. My world shattered!!! Then I cried for the person who lived for me? My MOTHER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not asking you guys to forward this email to anyone. Just pause for a moment and pray for our parents so that God gives them all the happiness that they rightfully deserve.......!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-5434809607467009736?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/5434809607467009736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-mother.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5434809607467009736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/5434809607467009736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-mother.html' title='My Mother'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-2499062679342689963</id><published>2009-02-04T01:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T03:49:06.625-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meeting with the God !</title><content type='html'>There once was a little boy who wanted to meet God. He knew it was a long trip to where God lived, so he packed his suitcase with cupcakes, several cans of root beer and started on his journey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he had gone about three blocks, he saw an elderly woman. She was sitting on a park bench watching the pigeons. The boy sat down next to her and opened his suitcase. He was about to take a drink from his root beer when he noticed the lady looked hungry so he offered her a cupcake. She gratefully accepted and smiled at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her smile was so wonderful that he wanted to see it again, so he offered a root beer as well. Once again she smiled at him. The boy was delighted!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They sat there all afternoon eating and smiling without saying a word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/old%20woman%20eating" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i190.photobucket.com/albums/z253/ladyrock2561/Soviet/oldwoman2.jpg" border="0" alt="old woman eating Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As it began to grow dark, the boy realized how tired he was and wanted to go home. He got up to leave but before he had gone no more than a few steps, he turned around and ran back to the old woman, giving her a big hug. She gave him her biggest smile ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the boy arrived home his Mother was surprised by the look of joy on his face. She asked, "What has made you so happy today?" He replied, "I had lunch with God." Before his mother could respond he added, "You know what? She's got the most beautiful smile in the whole world!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, the old woman, also radiant with joy, returned to her home. Her son was stunned by the look of peace on her face. He asked, "Mother, what has made you so happy today?" She replied, "I ate cupcakes in the park with God." And before her son could reply, she added, "You know, he is much younger than I expected."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-2499062679342689963?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/2499062679342689963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/meeting-with-god.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2499062679342689963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/2499062679342689963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/meeting-with-god.html' title='Meeting with the God !'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i190.photobucket.com/albums/z253/ladyrock2561/Soviet/th_oldwoman2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-3345189222394548012</id><published>2009-02-04T01:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T01:57:23.672-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Can I buy an hour of your time ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A man came home from work late, tired and irritated, to find his 5-year-old son waiting for him at the door...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son: "Daddy, may I ask you a question" Daddy: "Yeah sure, what it is?"  Son: "Dad, how much do you make an hour " Daddy: "That's none of your business. Why do you ask such a thing? " that man said angrily. Son: "I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Daddy: "I make Rs. 500 an hour". "Oh", the little boy replied, with his head down. Looking up, he said, "Dad, may I please borrow Rs. 300?" The father was furious, "if the only reason you asked that   is so you can borrow some money to buy a silly toy or other nonsense, then march yourself to your room and go to bed. Think why you are being so selfish. I work hard everyday for such this childish behavior" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door. The man sat down and started to get even angrier about the little boy's questions. How dare he ask such questions only to get some money? After about an hour or so, the man had calmed down, and started to think:"May be there was something he really needed to buy with that Rs. 300 and he really didn't ask for money very often!" The man went to the door of little boy's room and opened the door. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Are you asleep, son?" He asked. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"No daddy, I'm awake," replied the boy. "I've been thinking, may be I was too hard on you earlier", said the man, "It's been a long day and I took out my aggravation on you. Here's the Rs.300 you asked for" The little boy sat straight up, smiling "oh thank you dad!" He yelled. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then, reaching under his pillow he pulled some crippled up notes. The man, seeing that the boy already had money, started to get angry again. The little boy slowly counted out his money, then looked up at his father. "Why do you want money if you already had some?" the father grumbled. "Because I didn't have enough, but now I do," the little boy replied."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Daddy I have Rs. 500 now. Can I buy an hour of your time? Please come home early tomorrow. I would like to have dinner with you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MORAL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just a short reminder to all of you working so hard in life.  We should not let time slip through our fingers without having spent some time with those who really matter to us, those close to our hearts. If we die tomorrow, the company that we are working for could easily replace us in a matter of days. But the family &amp;amp; friends we leave behind will feel the loss for the rest of their lives. And come to think of it, we pour ourselves more into work than to our family. An unwise investment indeed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what's the full word of FAMILY?&lt;br /&gt;FAMILY=(F)ATHER (A)ND (M)OTHER (I) (L)OVE (Y)OU&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-3345189222394548012?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/3345189222394548012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/can-i-buy-hour-of-your-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/3345189222394548012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/3345189222394548012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/can-i-buy-hour-of-your-time.html' title='Can I buy an hour of your time ?'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-1165149882858830568</id><published>2009-02-04T01:53:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T01:01:25.146-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Box full of kisses</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Some time ago a man punished his 5-year-old daughter for wasting a roll of expensive gold wrapping paper. Money was tight and he became even more upset when the child pasted the gold paper so as to decorate a box to put under the Christmas tree. Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift box to her father the next morning and said, This is for you, Daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/gift%20box" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i579.photobucket.com/albums/ss236/eelizzard69/gift.jpg" border="0" alt="gift Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The father was embarrassed by his earlier over reaction, but his anger flared again when he found the box was empty. He spoke to her in a harsh manner. Don't you know, young lady, when you give someone a present there's supposed to be something inside the package?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and said, Oh, Daddy, it's not empty. I blew kisses into it until it was full. The father was crushed. He fell on his knees and put his arms round his little girl, and he begged her to forgive him for his unnecessary anger.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;An accident took the life of the child only a short time later and it is told that the father kept that gold box by his bed for all the years of his life. And whenever he was discouraged or faced difficult problems he would open the box and take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a very real sense, each of us as human beings have been given a golden box filled with unconditional love and kisses from our children, family, friends and God. There is no more precious possession anyone could hold.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-1165149882858830568?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/1165149882858830568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/box-full-of-kisses.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/1165149882858830568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/1165149882858830568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/box-full-of-kisses.html' title='Box full of kisses'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7294070092129602958.post-12509119238595968</id><published>2009-02-04T01:52:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T20:03:45.735-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Take care of my eyes</title><content type='html'>There was a blind girl who used to hate every one1 except her boy friend. She always used to say that "I will marry you if I could see you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly one day someone donated eyes to that girl. When she saw her boy friend she was shocked to see that he was also blind. Her boyfriend asked "WILL YOU MARRY ME NOW?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She simply refused him rudely. Her boyfriend did not say a word to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/blind%20man" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i288.photobucket.com/albums/ll178/seouls0ul/blindrun.jpg" border="0" alt="blind Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He smiled and went away with a letter saying, "Take care of my eyes"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7294070092129602958-12509119238595968?l=dhyantirth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/feeds/12509119238595968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/take-care-of-my-eyes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/12509119238595968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7294070092129602958/posts/default/12509119238595968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dhyantirth.blogspot.com/2009/02/take-care-of-my-eyes.html' title='Take care of my eyes'/><author><name>Nand Kumar Menon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11919422537513478669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y2s10cd5tvI/SYlMW6UhU4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7RU2LQVyGhI/S220/000a00GrMC_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
