Interesting one liners!

*Interesting one liners!!!*

• Join the army, see the world, meet interesting people, and kill them.
• Until I was 13, I thought my name was 'Shut Up.'
• I'm not afraid to die. I just don't want to be there when it happens.
• Always and never are two words you should always remember never to use.
• I've never been drunk, but often I've been over served.
• The road to success is always under construction.
• I say no to drugs -- they just don't listen!
• Marriage is one of the chief causes of divorce.
• Work is fine if it doesn't take up too much of your time.
• When everything's coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.
• Born free; Taxed to death.
• Everyone has a photographic memory; some people just don't have film.
• Life is unsure; always eat your dessert first.
• Smile -- it makes people wonder what you're up to.
• I love being a writer... what I can't stand is the paperwork.
• A printer consists of 3 main parts: the case, the jammed paper tray and the blinking red light.
• The hardest part of skating is the ice.
• The guy who invented the first wheel was an idiot; the guy who invented the other three, he was the genius.
• The trouble with being punctual is that there's no one there to appreciate it.
• If our constitution allows us free speech, why are there phone bills?
• If you tell a man there are 300 billion stars in the universe, he'll believe you. But if you tell him a park bench has just been painted, he has to touch it to be sure.
• Beat the 5 O'clock rush: leave work at noon!
• If you can't convince them, confuse them.
• It's not the fall that kills you; it's the sudden stop at the end.
• I couldn't repair your brakes, so I made your horn louder.
• Someday is not a day of the week.
• When I was born, I was so surprised I didn't talk for a year and a half.

Coffee time

A forward from my friend's circle...

A group of alumni, highly established in their careers, got togetherto visit their old university Professor. Conversation soon turned into complaints about stress in work and life.

Offering his guests coffee, the Prof went to the kitchen and returnedwith a large pot of coffee and an assortment of cups: porcelain, plastic, glass, some plain-looking and some expensive and exquisite, telling them to help themselves to hot coffee.

When all the students had a cup of coffee in hand,the lecturer said: "If you noticed, all the nice-looking, expensive cups were taken up,leaving behind the plain and cheap ones. While it is quite normal foryou to want only the best for yourselves, that is the source of yourproblems and stress.

What all of you really wanted was coffee, not the cup, but youConsciously went for the better cups and are eyeing each other'scups."

"Now, if Life is coffee, then the jobs, money and position in societyare the cups. They are just tools to hold and contain Life, but thequality of Life doesn't change."

"Sometimes, by concentrating only on the cup, we fail to enjoy thecoffee in it."

So friend, don't let the cups drive you...enjoy the coffee instead.

Jemba2006

In July 2005, I had the rare opportunity to interact with MBA students from the London Business School (http://www.london.edu/). Though I was introduced to them as an official translator who would assist one of the 14 teams to accomplish their project, I saw it as an opportunity for cultural exchange and some fun at the expense of office work. When I asked my boss if he knew people, preferably students, who would volunteer as guides, he did well to ignore my prudent attempts at tricking him to give me three days leave.

There were nearly 80 Executive MBA students with average work experience of 10 years. The youngest was 27 years (Charlotte) and the oldest in their mid 4os. I had no reasons to be particularly happy about HIS decision to put one of the only PYTs in my team. But I was certainly disappointed when I heard that she was going strong with her Irish boyfriend. Darn cupid and damn the first strike! HE made amends by giving me not the slightest chance for nurturing any more mushy thoughts about my team so that I could focus on what I was invited to do. The remaining four students - three guys and a lady (Belinda) - were too serious or guys for my tastes.

Among the students who I was in charge, there was a Vice-President with Morgan Stanley (Sonny) and a Marketing Manager from Munich Re (Will). The third guy in the team was an NRI from Kolkata (Tarun).

Tarun was back in India after 14 years but had no plans to visit his folks in small town Kolkata. He worked for Capgemini. I was surprised when he remarked that nothing has changed in India since he last visited here; many of my friends visiting Bangalore after two or three months blabber about the mammoth changes that have undergone this city. And, here we have an NRI who thinks nothing has changed in 14 years. Tall claims by any standards. Noticing my apprehensions, he quickly clarified that he was referring to the “vehicle-infested roads, bumper-to-bumper traffic, beggars and stray cattle…” The list seemed endless putting me in a spot of bother and shame.

The other students were also high profile and had clear reasons for doing the Executive MBA. It didn’t surprise me that the Jemba 2006 batch of EMBA had chosen India ahead of other countries for their internship program. To me their decision spoke more about the emergence of India as an economic power (I would hesitate to call her a super power yet!) than their interest in our culture and history, which would have been the case in the early 90s.

So here they were in many-a-times-dubiously-in-the-news Bangalore wanting to make the best out of their week-long stay. When the agenda was set on the day of their reception at the Royal Orchid, it became clear to Tabby (the other guide) and I that Jemba 2006 batch had their tasks cut out - visit a specialized industry (manufacturing, IT, healthcare, hospitality, etc.); study their management patterns; find gaps in the internal communication process; compile the data; analyze and discuss with the company Management; and suggest improvement measures.

It was a rock-and-roll party for four days (the translators and the sutdents may have different opinions on this) starting with banquet at Royal Orchid. Our team would visit a manufacturing unit on the outskirts of Bangalore with the following agenda – meet the company's top management, middle management, and finally, the most important link in the communication chain, the laborers to study their communication process. The sumptuous lunch, sarcastic jokes and bullying apart, it was business as usual from the word go.

After the initial meetings and floor visits, we huddled into a conference hall to review and revise the communication questionnaire. We had three days in all and three employee layers to interview. We set off with a series of meetings with the middle management of the company. What started as a process to first understand and then identify communication gaps, turned into a conundrum when the interviewers and interviewees found themselves well short of being able to adjust to each others’ language and accent. There lies my chance and raison d'etre, I thought. Donning my translator cap I jumped into the ring. Translation is an oxymoron here because the “From” language, the “To” language, and my interpretations were all in English…that too an all too familiar British English. In the end I was happy that my skills were put to best use for the team.

After three thoroughly enjoyable days, it was not easy returning to work. I had become a student and learner; moreover, I had rediscovered the urge to pursue an MBA. As days passed, the sweet memories began to blur, until one morning when a little birdie delivered the following note of thanks taking me back in time and memory:

Hello Prashant,

Thank you for all your help with the focus groups last week. We truly appreciate your assistance and the fact that you took time out from work to be with us. We hope you found the experience interesting and rewarding.

We're now back in the UK after some lengthy delays due to the Mumbai weather.

Please keep in touch.

Thanks,
Belinda, Sonny, Tarun, Will and Charlotte

Chembra

As kids, my little brother and I would look forward to bed-time stories that dad would tell us every night. One of my favorites is that of how the Mount Everest was humbled by Tensing and Hillary. I would get so carried away that every other day I would force dad to repeat the "tension" story. My persistence may have rubbed off on my brother too because he would chorus in my whines.

Recently, my friends and I scaled Chembra, the tallest peak in Wayanad (Kerala). We had three obstacles to trail before we got started - the fickle weather; warnings about rough terrain made worse by incessant rains; and our own "it's-overwhelming" demon (on second thoughts, there were four, not three hurdles, if I must add blood-starved leeches; oh! Anand, how can I forget the blood shed and bitterness.) It was as though four of us had four different views about the trek. If at all we agreed on one thing, it was photography. Gods Own Country has plenty on offer and Chembra was no exception. But before we could smell the aroma of lush tea plantations en route to the hills, we had to kill the devils within.

We set ourselves milestones - three in all. First, reach the watch tower at the foothill and seek a guide; second, reach the first camp site - a trek of nearly 45 minutes to reach a heart-shaped lake; third, proceed to the peak if the weather is clear.

We were at the foothill of Chembra watching the awesome peak, when Mother Nature sent down a gentle shower to bless our trek. The weather was bountiful and pleasant, but we had read into the warning sooner than later, that heavens may pour their fury on us anytime. We were in a spot - should we go or should we abort. Of what worth is a visit to Chembra if we don’t visit the heart-shaped lake in the lap of nature! Our aunts would tease us to wits end for our cowardly behavior. Filled with surreal enthusiasm, we set out for the watch tower in search of a guide. We agreed to hire a guide even though Shashank is no stranger to Chembra. A seasoned climber aware of the local terrain would be what the doctor prescribed; he will be our best bet in times of danger, be it from snakes, leeches, or forces of nature. Our joy didn't last long because the officers and the only guide among them bluntly refused to join us in the trek. They only raised their eyebrows to check that we were not carrying beverages. Regurgitating the care-for-nature rules, they sternly warned us against using mobile phones when (and if) we reach the peak. Despite our requests (rather groans), they unmindfully continued playing cards.

Wayside chapel

This is to provide some comic relief...You just can't stop laughing for every single sentence in the letter below.

In the days when you couldn't count on a public toilet facility, an English woman was planning a trip to India. She was registered to stay in a small guest house owned by the local schoolmaster.
She was concerned as to whether the guest house contained a WC. In England, a bathroom is commonly called a WC which stands for "Water Closet". She wrote to the schoolmaster inquiring of the facilities about the WC.

The school master, not fluent in English, asked the local priest if he knew the meaning of WC. Together they pondered possible meanings of the letters and concluded that the lady wanted to know if there was a "Wayside Chapel" near the house . . . a bathroom never entered their minds.

So the schoolmaster wrote the following reply:

Dear Madam,

I take great pleasure in informing you that the WC is located 9 miles from the house. It is located in the middle of a grove of pine trees, surrounded by lovely grounds. It is capable of holding 229 people and is open on Sundays and Thursdays. As there are many people expected in the summer months, I suggest you arrive early. There is, however, plenty of standing room. This is an unfortunate situation especially if you are in the habit of going regularly.

It may be of some interest to you that my daughter was married in the WC as it was there that she met her husband. It was a wonderful event. There were 10 people in every seat. It was wonderful to see the expressions on their faces. We can take photos in different angle. My wife, sadly, has been ill and unable to go recently. It has been almost a year since she went last, which pains her greatly.

You will be pleased to know that many people bring their lunch and make a day of it. Others prefer to wait till the last minute and arrive just in time. I would recommend your ladyship plan to go on a Thursday as there is an organ accompaniment. The acoustics are excellent and even the most delicate sounds can be heard everywhere.

The newest addition is a bell which rings every time a person enters. We are holding a bazaar to provide plush seats for all since many feel it is long needed. I look forward to escorting you there myself and seating you in a place where you can be seen by all.

With deepest regards,
The Schoolmaster

The Woman fainted reading the reply!!!!...

Inside out

"I am a bundle of contradictions." In fact, I am not! But when my close friends accuse me, I can't help but ponder. What is the basis for their claims? I wanted to find out. When I should have been looking within, I simply went around town with a pitiable look asking everyone that crossed my path: "What do you think about me?"

Each one had their own share of abuses and praises. One half of the sample went overboard with remarks like - careless, rude, brutish, opportunistic, plastic, populist, pig headed, porous, and what not. I realized from their grumbling that even if u are a genie in a bottle they would complain. Though I had inkling about my reputation, it came as a rude shock to me that some of the comments were acrimonious.

A sling of abusives sent my confidence level dipping. If not for the other benevolent half, I would have been buried live in a heap of abrasives. The 'esteemeter' slowly began to look up and soared to its zenith only when heavenly words like friendly, caring, chivalrous, popular, smart, intelligent, hep, cool, and more fell on my ears. It was certainly music to my ears, I must admit. But this poll did little to help me attain my objectives. I was sitting on a truck load of responses that did anything but clarify my position.

Curious that I was, I did not stop with my friends circle. The perceived existence of this dualism had started showing up on my behavior to such an extent that my parents began to wonder what happened to their happy-go-lucky son. I thought they will be the perfect people to ask. Who else but parents know their children inside out? After all they have watched you closely during every stage of growth. I wondered why I did not think about this earlier.

When I approached them, they had a "come on sonny! we know what you want" look. So, without much beating around the bush, I got down to business. In less than half an hour, I was a transformed man. At least, they thought I was. The moment I asked dad and mum "where do I need to improve", they pounced on me like hungry lions. From brushing teeth to spreading bed, they had a piece of advice for me on one thing or another. "Not this time dad, I protested." "Mama, at least you should refrain, I pleaded." No, they would have none of it.

I felt like a politician who went to the public asking their opinion about his image. If only our corporate head honchos are like parents, I thought. Parents admonish you and raise the bar every time, but protect and praise you in front of others. Isn't it just the opposite with our managers?

Here I was, completely drained and desperate, but enlightened that one should never take parents for granted. When I walked away from them tired and lost, my consciousness betrayed me and I tripped over the imperfections and glitches strewn in my path. The next minute I was rolling down the stairs screaming for help and reaching out for something to arrest the fall. But the bottomless pit continued to suck me into the abyss. My voice conked out and hearing failed. The gushing wind stripped me to flesh and bones, and I sensed that my end was near. As I closed my eyes in retreat, a faint light emerged from the bottom and held me in her arms. Before I gathered my wits to ask "who she was", the angel replied: "I am your conscience. I am here to help you. Ask me and you shall find your way out." I was overcome with profound emotion - a mix of happiness, sorrow, satisfaction, shame, and realization. It dawned on me that I should have looked within much earlier. I had knocked on every possible door and turned every stone. But I had failed to understand that the power lies within...