<?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-6955756744755820282</id><updated>2011-11-27T15:50:18.236-08:00</updated><category term='Stomach'/><category term='Body Cells'/><category term='HeartKidneysCancer'/><category term='Story'/><category term='Raj Kappor'/><category term='Nrgis'/><category term='CONSTIPATION'/><category term='Save Water'/><category term='ACIDITY'/><category term='Blood Hospitals'/><category term='Healthy Fruits'/><category term='Tele Marketing'/><category term='Blood Donation'/><category term='Water'/><category term='GASTRITIS'/><category term='Shree 420'/><category term='Infection'/><category term='CONTEST'/><category term='Movie'/><category term='Blood'/><title type='text'>Grand Fathers Stories For Children</title><subtitle type='html'>In This Blog You Can Find Stories, Nursury Rythems, and many More</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>48</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-3168394007694307501</id><published>2011-03-01T09:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-01T09:05:21.597-08:00</updated><title type='text'>OM NAMAHA SHIWAY - arun.gavkar@gmail.com</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="https://mail.google.com/mail/?hl=en&amp;amp;shva=1#inbox/12e710ac9a5e6ef9"&gt;Gmail - Fwd: OM NAMAHA SHIWAY - arun.gavkar@gmail.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VISIT WWW.GAVKAR.BLOGSPOT.COM      WWW.ARUNC2W.BLOGSPOT.COM&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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Shirin, the daughter of a poor but rich in idealism, was kidnapped and taken to the King of Faras, who instantly infatuated with him, and give a big gift to the person who brought them. But the king was very disappointed that Shirin did not respond to his love; idealism that girl is too tall to be lured by wealth and greatness of the King. King did all the things to please him and to be willing to marry him, but every effort opposite effect.&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;When Shirin saw that there was no hope for escape from the palace which for him is just a cage, and kenekadan king and his aides have been very thin patience, he was forced to accept their offer, but with one condition, that a channel should be created as a memorial monument for the event it. Of course this is a ploy to cancel the wedding, because the making of the canal that takes many years. King was so infatuated by her beauty until he was negligent in capturing the subtle hint, and immediately gave orders to architects and engineers to start work immediately, and finish it as soon as possible, no matter what the cost and effort required. Thousands of workers immediately involved in the project, and the work going day and night without interruption, under the direct supervision of the king himself and his servants.&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;The closer to the completion of work, the greater the expectation of the king, and he happily asked Shirin to go see the canal. With sad hearts, Shirin went into the canal, lest the work be finished soon and that he must surrender to the will of the King, a judged thing worse than death. When walking to see the process work where thousands of people worked day and night, he was very surprised to see a worker came to him; because captivated by her beauty, without fear he cried out, "Hi Shirin, I love you." "Love to ignore differences in degrees between the lovers and lovers, and ignoring the height to be climbed for a lover."&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;The voice of love and words of worship such as that sought by Shirin, and have not encountered before. Shirin replied, "If you love me, burst the mountain and make a tunnel through the mountain. Gold need to be tested before acceptance." Farhad said, "With pleasure I would do, Shirin, whatever you want. There is nothing too hard for a lover to do something for her lover."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;Farhad walking with all my heart, without asking why he had to make a tunnel, not thinking how banyakpekerjaan to be done. He did not think how long it will be completed, nor think that the job will be in vain. He went into the mountains and began to break stones with kampaknya. He mentions every time he swings Shirin kampaknya. Every swing Farhad hand carve a miracle. Every swing, the result is like the work of a hundred swings ax. "Power is the power of the human body, but the power of love is the mighty acts of God.": No need for a long time to complete Farhad&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;job, a job that normally takes many years and thousands of workers, the completion in a few days alone.&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;Reject Shirin Farhad King since he saw, and said, "There are other lovers who are undergoing tests, and before I knew the results of such tests, we should not get married first."&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;King spies watching Farhad from afar, and they immediately sent word that Farhad had completed his work before the canal was completed. King was so upset, thinking that Farhad Shirin will probably get love, and thus not Shirin be hers again. After negotiations, an adviser said, "Your Majesty, you are king, and Farhad just a worker. How could the sky than the earth? I will go there, and if His Majesty wishes, I will end Fathad in an instant." "Oh, do not. Shirin will see blood stains me, and this will make it away from me forever." An aide to the king said, "It's not hard for me, Your Honor, Farhad life need not end with blood dripping." "Well, then," said King.&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;The servant king went to Farhad, who has nearly completed his work with Shirin shadow that gives hope. "Happiness is a lover located in the happiness of her lover." The servant king said, "Hi Farhad, unfortunately, all to no avail! Hi competitors months, beloved Shirin had died suddenly." Farhad said in a panic, "What? Shirinku died?" "Yes," the waiter said, 'O Farhad, alas Shirin had died. " Farhad sighed deeply, and fell to the ground. "Shirin ..." That last remark, and he passed from this life.&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;Shirin heard from people who sympathize with him that Farhad has done wonders by creating a tunnel in the mountains as he called the 'Shirin' in every swing kampaknya, and have completed a job that normally takes a very long time, in a short time. Shirin, whose heart had been moored at Farhad, and that through a spirit of love Farhad torn, no longer have patience for a second remaining, so he went to the mountain at the first opportunity. "The two higher power that separates two hearts together." Shirin, who may have fared better lovers like Farhad, not fared well enough to be seen again.&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;When Shirin Farhad found the body lying near the wonderful work recently completed for him, he felt very depressed and disappointed. Spies came close to convincing the King that Farhad Shirin had died, hoping that now that Farhad had died, Shirin will set one's mind to the King. They said, "Farhad poor. Unfortunately, he was dead." Shirin heard from wind, water flow, from the rocks, of trees, Farhad voice calling, "Shirin, Shirin." The whole place is interesting with the magnetism of the soul Shirin Farhad love that is created around it. He fell to the ground, shocked and felt so lost until his heart could not stand it anymore, exclaimed, "Farhad, I have come to be with you." Fate of a lover is a big disappointment in the eyes of the world, but he is the highest satisfaction in the eyes of the wise men.&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;People who are adapt, to love one another. Perhaps the properties of the body was the one who coordinate mental quality, quality of life. Physical attraction was short-lived, emotional appeal was a bit long, and spiritual attraction last forever.&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;Love that is only slightly pronounced can turn another heart, a love that will haunt more pronounced, but when too much is spoken will alienate the object of love.&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;Relationship produce a friend, though there was no relationship or a friendship that lasts worldly. By gathering, sitting together, eating together, breathing the same air, liver will be approached. Two coal that burns, if Necessary will make a fire. The fire that uniting the two. When two hands holding hands, an electric current flows from one hand to another. This is why people shake hands, to fire the two men met. Therefore, people tend to clap their hands, folded his arms and crossing her legs when sitting or lying down, because it gives them comfort. This is what causes the similarities that exist in people in one nation or a race.&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;Love tends to produce quality, and even similarities, between lover and beloved. Often we see friends, husbands and wives, lovers, Mursyid and pupils, in due course become similar. Portrait of Shaykh at all Chistiyah flow as if they were made in the same mold. Someone who went far from his country and long life in another country, become familiar with that country, loved it, and sometimes do not want to go home to her own country, due to the love that is formed by the association.&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;The meeting was sparked love, love and farewell interrupted. The further out of reach pecintanya love object, the more broad expanse of love is there for expansion. Because it's love to the object that can not be obtained and are likely to grow, while if the object of love is in this range often restrict love. When the separation took place a short, love will grow, but if too long, love it to death. When the meeting only briefly, would love ignited, but it is difficult to sustain the flame. If the meeting lasts a long time, love was not much affected, but its roots to grow, develop and last long. In the absence of a lover, hope is the oil that makes the fire of love burning. The meeting and parting in turn will make the fire of love surged. Too long meeting will shrink the fire of love, and too long separation will kill the fire because the oil runs out.&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;We probably spent a year in a city, and perhaps we know and love the ¬ people there, and they were very fond of us, to love growing and we think, "If we can continue to live there!" When we go, always felt heavy to separate from them. Then we left, our friends to write letters and we answer it, at first every day, then every week, then every month, and the frequency continues to decrease until only every Hari Raya, because we grew apart and had little to do with them and deal more with the people around us now. When we returned to the same place after five or six years, at first we felt that the climate is foreign to us, the streets and houses seemed unfamiliar, and there was no warmth there used to be. If we are stupid, we'll blame my friends. If we knew, we were going to blame themselves. Togetherness was the increase of love and farewell who love erodes, so too with our attachment to the places.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-6756207555577830885?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/6756207555577830885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=6756207555577830885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/6756207555577830885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/6756207555577830885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2010/07/shirin-and-farhad.html' title='Shirin and Farhad'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/TC10Z37x5EI/AAAAAAAAAiY/lqIzSXhLs44/s72-c/3371730_f260.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-7728088245800858524</id><published>2010-06-18T10:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T10:54:51.320-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='CONSTIPATION'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ACIDITY'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GASTRITIS'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stomach'/><title type='text'>Listen to your stomach.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Felt heavy after stuffing yourself with samosas, sweets, masaledar curries at the recent bash? Don't&lt;br /&gt;rush to pop a pill when the solution is right in your kitchen. Most common&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD5" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 102, 255) !important; border-bottom-style: dotted !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; font-family: Arial !important; font-size: 13px !important; font-style: normal !important; font-weight: normal !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;digestive problems&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;are caused by food — either by&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD4" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 102, 255) !important; border-bottom-style: dotted !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; font-family: Arial !important; font-size: 13px !important; font-style: normal !important; font-weight: normal !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;eating too much&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;or too little or at the wrong time. Fortunately, these can be rectified by watching what you eat. Understanding your body mechanism and bringing a few changes to your dietary patterns is enough to help you get back&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #eeeeee;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD6" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 102, 255) !important; border-bottom-style: dotted !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; font-family: Arial !important; font-size: 13px !important; font-style: normal !important; font-weight: normal !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #eeeeee;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;on your feet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #eeeeee;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;again after an attack of acidity or gastritis. Here's how to cure some common problems caused by food… with food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ACIDITY&amp;nbsp;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;It's that familiar feeling of heartburn, vomiting, coughing,&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD1" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 102, 255) !important; border-bottom-style: dotted !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; font-family: Arial !important; font-size: 13px !important; font-style: normal !important; font-weight: normal !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;stomach pain and bloating&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;which makes you run for an antacid.&amp;nbsp;Acidity is caused by an imbalance between the acid secreting mechanism of the stomach and the protective mechanisms that ensure their safety. It results when there is&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD3" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 102, 255) !important; border-bottom-style: dotted !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; font-family: Arial !important; font-size: 13px !important; font-style: normal !important; font-weight: normal !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;excess&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;production of acid which may enter the lower part of the oesophagus (Gastro-Oesophageal Reflux).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Avoid:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;Tur dal, channa dal, raw vegetables, cabbage, kidney beans (rajma), white bread, bakery products, refined flour, noodles, poha, ragi, spinach, peanuts, dry coconut, canned foods and stuff containing monosodium glutamate, caffeine and alcohol. All these cause acidity or aggravate it. Don't take too hot or too cold meals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Combat with:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;Fresh fruits or vegetables, cumin, ajwain. Have small and frequent meals. Increase your chewing time so that food masticates well in the mouth. Drink lots of water (but don't gulp it, sip it). Have few drops of lemon or jal jeera, they help increase saliva production.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="Ar0280003"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;CONSTIPATION&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;What:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;Occurs primarily because bowel movement is restricted because of weak colon muscles. Defecation may be very painful and in severe cases, can lead to symptoms of bowel obstruction. Lack of fluid and fibre, a sedentary lifestyle, stress, side effects of medication, even pregnancy can cause constipation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Avoid:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;Alcohol, refined, starchy and sugary foods&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Combat with:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;Plenty of water, at least 1.5 to 2 litres a day. Have food high in fibre and fluid — banana, raw banana, lotus stem, beans, gavar), and seasonal fruits, especially skinny ones like guava, pear, plum and apple.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;INDIGESTION/HEARTBURN&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;What:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;Most common digestive disorder caused by reflux — the sphincter muscles connecting the oesophagus to the stomach fails to close. So the acid in the stomach regurgitates. You might feel angina pain or even bloating often leading people to mistake it as symptoms leading to heart attack.&amp;nbsp;&lt;b&gt;Avoid:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;Large, late meals, fatty food, tobacco, caffeine in all forms, tomato based goodies — chips, sauces and dips. Try not eating two hours before bedtime. Also don't bend or lie down immediately after a meal. Alcohol too should be avoided, but a glass of wine is ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Combat with:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;Small and frequent meals, half a cup of cold milk before bedtime, drinks of tarragon, dill, mint, fennel and cumin.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;GASTRITIS&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;What:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;Inflammation of the stomach lining, signalling indigestion. Gastritis could be acute (sudden), a result of faulty lifestyle or stress. Or it could be chronic (longterm), aggravated by medicines or age. The symptoms are similar to&amp;nbsp;&lt;span id="Ar0280004"&gt;that of acidity.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Avoid:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;Spicy food, chocolates, aerated beverages, fatty foods, tomato-based products and alcohol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Combat with:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;Bland food, vegetables that have high water content such as bottle gourd (dudhi), long parwal, tinda, pumpkin, water melon and papaya. Just sauté them or cook in pressure cooker without too much oil or spices.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;FLATULENCE&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;What:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;If breaking wind at inopportune moments, bloating and burping is a constant embarrassment for you, blame it on acidity, indigestion and even irritable bowel syndrome. Sometimes intolerance of milk can also lead to flatulence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Avoid:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;Lentils and legumes, especially if they are not soaked for eight hours or more. Juicy vegetables such as broccoli, cabbage, cauliflower, sprouts. Also stop taking carbonated drinks, chewing gum, bran and mava sweets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Combat with:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;High fibre foods that work as laxative — skinny fruits, lotus stem, raw banana and herbs such as rosemary, fennel, tarragon, thyme tea and ginger.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;COLITIS&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;What:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;An&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD2" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 102, 255) !important; border-bottom-style: dotted !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; font-family: Arial !important; font-size: 13px !important; font-style: normal !important; font-weight: normal !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;inflammatory bowel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;disease where ulcers bleed in the colon and rectum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Avoid:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;Foods high in insoluble fibre — bran, whole grain, sunflower seeds, dried fruit, potato skin, skinny fruits. Ironically, all these are very healthy for the system especially if you are diabetic, but bad for colitis patients. Also skip fats, oil, gas inducing stuff like beans, and dairy products.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Combat with:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;Sautéed and baked vegetables, baked veggies,&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD7" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 102, 255) !important; border-bottom-style: dotted !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; font-family: Arial !important; font-size: 13px !important; font-style: normal !important; font-weight: normal !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;decaffeinated coffee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, soya milk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-7728088245800858524?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/7728088245800858524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=7728088245800858524' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7728088245800858524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7728088245800858524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2010/06/listen-to-your-stomach.html' title='Listen to your stomach.'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-7783371820828523827</id><published>2010-06-18T10:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T10:46:46.894-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blood Donation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blood Hospitals'/><title type='text'>Improtant Facts About Blood Donation</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 11pt;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"&gt;Person above 18 years of age and over 50 Kgs. in weight can donate blood once in three months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 11pt;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"&gt;A normal adult has five to six liters of blood in his/her body of which only 300 ml &amp;nbsp;is used during blood donation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 11pt;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"&gt;This blood is replaced by your body within 24 to 48 hours!No special diet, rest or medicine is required after blood&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"&gt;donation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 11pt;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"&gt;The donor should not have taken any medicine in the last 48 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 11pt;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"&gt;The donor should not have contacted jaundice in the previous three years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 11pt;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"&gt;Every donor is given a medical checkup prior to donation to see if he/she is medically fit and doesn’t suffer from&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"&gt;anemia, high blood&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD2" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 102, 255) !important; border-bottom-style: dotted !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif !important; font-size: 15px !important; font-style: normal !important; font-weight: normal !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;pressure&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;etc.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: -0.25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 11pt;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"&gt;The donor cannot contract AIDS or any other disease by&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD1" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 102, 255) !important; border-bottom-style: dotted !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif !important; font-size: 15px !important; font-style: normal !important; font-weight: normal !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;donating blood&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-7783371820828523827?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/7783371820828523827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=7783371820828523827' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7783371820828523827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7783371820828523827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2010/06/improtant-facts-about-blood-donation.html' title='Improtant Facts About Blood Donation'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-21207239202211009</id><published>2010-06-18T10:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T10:42:44.041-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Water'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Infection'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Save Water'/><title type='text'>The Right Way To Drink Water</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family: Tahoma; line-height: 24px;"&gt;Our bodies are made up of mostly water. Just look at the facts: The brain contains 74% water, blood contains 83% water, lean muscle has 75% and bone has 22% water.. Experts agree that water is one of the most powerful forms of treatment. So how come most people don't drink enough water?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; line-height: 24px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; line-height: 24px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Here are&amp;nbsp;10&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD6" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 102, 255) !important; border-bottom-style: dotted !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; font-family: Tahoma !important; font-style: normal !important; font-weight: bold !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"&gt;Health Benefits of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;Drinking Sufficient Water:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;1. Enough intake of water prevents kidney stones. The most common&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD2" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 102, 255) !important; border-bottom-style: dotted !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; font-family: Tahoma !important; font-style: normal !important; font-weight: normal !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;cause of kidney stones&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;is not drinking enough water. Since water dissolves the substances that form stones in the urine, drinking 12 glasses daily helps&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD1" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 102, 255) !important; border-bottom-style: dotted !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; font-family: Tahoma !important; font-style: normal !important; font-weight: normal !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;treat kidney stones&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;2. Water treats&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD7" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 102, 255) !important; border-bottom-style: dotted !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; font-family: Tahoma !important; font-style: normal !important; font-weight: normal !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;urinary tract infection&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;. The more water you drink, the more you will urinate. "Drinking lots of water will help flush out harmful bacteria from your bladder," says Medical City kidney specialist Dr. Roberto Tanchanco.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;3. Water helps patients with diarrhea by preventing dehydration. As a first-aid for diarrhea, you can make your own&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD5" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 102, 255) !important; border-bottom-style: dotted !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; font-family: Tahoma !important; font-style: normal !important; font-weight: normal !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;oral rehydration solution&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;at home. Mix a glass of water with 2 teaspoons sugar and ¼ teaspoon salt, and drink as much as you can tolerate. This is similar to the dextrose solution in the hospital.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;4. Water helps reduce fever. For symptoms of flu, water can help lower your body temperature when you urinate the "heat" out of your body. If you're sick,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD4" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 102, 255) !important; border-bottom-style: dotted !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; font-family: Tahoma !important; font-style: normal !important; font-weight: normal !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;drink more water&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;for you to recover faster.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;5. Water helps treat cough and colds, sore throat, and respiratory infections. Water helps loosen sticky phlegm. A respected&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD3" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 102, 255) !important; border-bottom-style: dotted !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; font-family: Tahoma !important; font-style: normal !important; font-weight: normal !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;lung specialist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;told me that some mucolytics out there are just as beneficial as drinking lots of water.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;6. Water reduces heartburn. Taking 2-3 gulps of water every 20 minutes or so can help flush the stomach acid away. Bananas and water are effective alternatives to taking antacids. Try it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;7. Water prevents constipation and its complications. Too little water can harden the stools and lead to hemorrhoids and diverticulosis, a disease of the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD8" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 102, 255) !important; border-bottom-style: dotted !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; font-family: Tahoma !important; font-style: normal !important; font-weight: normal !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;large bowel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;. Drink water and eat lots of vegetables to soften your stools.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;8. Water keeps you alert and energetic. If you're dehydrated, your blood is literally thicker. This makes it harder for the blood to circulate. As a result, the brain can become less active and you can feel confused and fatigued. Some studies also show that water may help cure migraine headaches.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;9. By drinking a glass or two of water before a meal, you will lessen the amount of food you can take in order to feel full. Water has zero calories and will not make you fat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;10. Water keeps your skin soft and radiant. Just as a dehydrated person will have deep-set eyes and wrinkled skin, so will a fully hydrated person exhibit a normal and beautiful skin tone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The Correct Way To Drink Water:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;1. Drink water immediately after you wake up. Your body loses water while you sleep, so drink a glass before you go to sleep, and another glass when you wake up. You are naturally thirsty or dehydrated in the morning.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Drinking water in morning helps flush out the toxins that have accumulated during night sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;2. Drink 8 to 12 glasses a day. According to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD9" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 102, 255) !important; border-bottom-style: dotted !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; font-family: Tahoma !important; font-style: normal !important; font-weight: normal !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;the Mayo Clinic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;, a 120-pound individual needs 8 cups of water a day, while a 190-pound person would require 12 cups daily. Dr. Robert Tanchanco says that we should monitor our urine color and keep it on the light side. However, drink only a maximum of 16 glasses a day, and not more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;3. Drink little by little throughout the day. It is preferable to sip water throughout the day rather than to drink two glasses all at once. This will lessen the stress on the heart (especially if you have heart disease) and give your body more time to absorb it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;4. Don't wait until you're thirsty to drink water. By the time you feel thirsty, you're probably already 2 glasses below your normal water needs. Elderly people are also less sensitive to the body's need for water.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;5. Drink water, not soft drinks, alcohol or coffee. Some experts believe that tea, sodas and coffee can be potentially dehydrating. Moreover, the high phosphorus and sugar content in cola drinks can lead to conditions like osteoporosis and diabetes. One study shows that adults who drank six cups of coffee daily experienced mild dehydration. Drinking alcohol is much worse because it actually dehydrates you by making you urinate a lot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;6. Train children to drink water. Set a good example to your kids and drink water together. Make sure that children drink enough water when they're active. Pack a large bottled water in their lunch box.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;7. Drink more when it's hot. People living in hot climates like the Philippines need to&amp;nbsp;drink more water. They are more prone to develop kidney stones compared to those living in cooler regions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;8. Drink more as you exercise. When you exercise, you need to&amp;nbsp;drink more water&amp;nbsp;to compensate for fluid loss. Go for an extra 500 ml of water for a 30-minute to 1-hour exercise. Eating a banana also helps keep your potassium up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;9. Drink more when you're sick. Even though you don't feel like it, you really need to&amp;nbsp;drink more water&amp;nbsp;to help your body recover from various infections. If you're dehydrated, you'll feel much worse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;10. Drink more if you're pregnant. Women who are expecting or breast-feeding need additional fluids to stay hydrated. The&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD10" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 102, 255) !important; border-bottom-style: dotted !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; font-family: Tahoma !important; font-style: normal !important; font-weight: normal !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Institute of Medicine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;recommends that pregnant women drink 10 cups of fluids daily and women who breast-feed take in about 13 cups of fluids a day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-21207239202211009?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/21207239202211009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=21207239202211009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/21207239202211009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/21207239202211009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2010/06/right-way-to-drink-water.html' title='The Right Way To Drink Water'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-7080491763442846176</id><published>2010-06-18T10:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T10:35:50.557-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Body Cells'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HeartKidneysCancer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Healthy Fruits'/><title type='text'>Some of very healthy fruits with their benefits</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"&gt;OLIVES&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/TBus0qxWRmI/AAAAAAAAAgY/15-yDRfcjgQ/s1600/infob_insertedimage_310.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/TBus0qxWRmI/AAAAAAAAAgY/15-yDRfcjgQ/s320/infob_insertedimage_310.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime;"&gt;Hindi Name - Jaitun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Correspond with&lt;/b&gt;: Female reproductive organs, especially ovaries &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;How they benefit&lt;/b&gt; : Olives are rich in mono unsaturated fatty acids which are useful to raise good cholesterol, calcium and iron. The Vitamin E, hydroxytyrosol, and Oleuropein (all phytochemicals) present in olives are healthy for the female reproductive process. They help maintain healthy hormone levels and unobstructed blood flow to the pelvic area which is essential for sexual performance. Combine with: Cranberries. It will help prevent urinary track infections. Moreover, cranberries contain flavonoids that prevent forma tion of cysts in ovaries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;KIDNEY BEANS &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/TButFWdWDcI/AAAAAAAAAgg/hpIjcZKYc8s/s1600/infob_insertedimage_311.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/TButFWdWDcI/AAAAAAAAAgg/hpIjcZKYc8s/s320/infob_insertedimage_311.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hindi Name – Rajma&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Correspond with&lt;/b&gt;: Kidneys. Its resemblance is all too obvious. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;How they benefit&lt;/b&gt;: Kidney beans contain flavonoids and glucosinolates that regulate the creatinine level in the kidney. It has also a trace of mineral called molybdenum which is responsible for detoxifying sulphides and help in management of creatinine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Combine with&lt;/b&gt;: &amp;nbsp;Black urad daal. The daal helps the chemical content get absorbed fully in the body&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;FRESH FIGS&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/TButN10LSQI/AAAAAAAAAgo/F3OyAo-_pvM/s1600/infob_insertedimage_312.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/TButN10LSQI/AAAAAAAAAgo/F3OyAo-_pvM/s320/infob_insertedimage_312.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hindi Name - Anjeer&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Correspond with&lt;/b&gt;: Male reproductive organs &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;How they benefit&lt;/b&gt;: Figs, which are high in sugar content, give energy and vitality to the scrotal sac. They help maintain proper temperature inside the scrotal sac which is essential for sperm mobility, thereby leading to proper erections as well. Including figs in your diet helps battle fatigue and depression, a common reason attributed to poor performance in bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Combine with&lt;/b&gt;: Pumpkin seeds that are a good source for zinc. Zinc is important for sex drive and is also needed by the body to make sperms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;TOMATOES&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/TButSrqdDjI/AAAAAAAAAgw/xHyBEFd8qYo/s1600/infob_insertedimage_313.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/TButSrqdDjI/AAAAAAAAAgw/xHyBEFd8qYo/s320/infob_insertedimage_313.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hindi Name - Tamator&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Correspond with&lt;/b&gt;: Heart. A tomato has four chambers and is red. Ditto for your dil. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;How they benefit&lt;/b&gt;: Tomatoes have fibre and lycopene, a type of phytochemical which is a powerful anti-oxidant. They also have Vitamin K which regulates blood flow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Combine with&lt;/b&gt;: Lotus stem, which resemble arteries. Okra is a good combo too since it's known to purify blood capillaries. Tomatoes are best consumed through soups and sauces (without preservatives). While the raw form is healthy, cooked tomatoes are more advantageous as the heating process makes lycopene easily absorbable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;WALNUTS&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/TButZuKmepI/AAAAAAAAAg4/55FGhdPp2R0/s1600/infob_insertedimage_314.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/TButZuKmepI/AAAAAAAAAg4/55FGhdPp2R0/s320/infob_insertedimage_314.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hindi Name - Akhrot&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Correspond with: &lt;/b&gt;Brain. A walnut looks like a little brain, a right and the left hemisphere, upper cerebrum and lower cerebellum. Even the wrinkles and folds on the nut are just like the neocortex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;How they benefit&lt;/b&gt;: Walnuts have Omega 3 poly unsaturated fatty acids. Among other things, walnuts contain polyphenols. These are compounds which have ellagic acid, tannic acid, caffic acid, chlorogenic acid and serulic acid, all of which regulate blood circulation and conduction of nerve impulses to the brain. They are useful for enhancing memory power. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Combine with&lt;/b&gt;: With raisins and almonds. The Vitamin E present in walnut will get absorbed in the presence of raisins' phytochemicals. Hazelnut is another combination as it is a rich source of Vitamin E, fibre, copper, potassium, ellagic acid and fibre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;AVOCADOS&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/TButfZMJ8OI/AAAAAAAAAhA/nOBqwn5wT-Q/s1600/infob_insertedimage_315.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/TButfZMJ8OI/AAAAAAAAAhA/nOBqwn5wT-Q/s320/infob_insertedimage_315.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hindi Name&lt;/b&gt; – Makhanphal or Roochira&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Correspond with&lt;/b&gt;: Womb and cervix. Avocado is a fruit, basically the reproductive part of the plant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;How they benefit&lt;/b&gt;: Contains good fat and are rich in two phytochemicas — beta-sitosterol and glutathione — that offer protection against cervix cancer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Combine with&lt;/b&gt;: Olives which are also healthy for the reproductive organs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;ORANGES&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/TButkVuA_8I/AAAAAAAAAhI/UMVfepJy0Ic/s1600/infob_insertedimage_316.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/TButkVuA_8I/AAAAAAAAAhI/UMVfepJy0Ic/s320/infob_insertedimage_316.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Correspond with&lt;/b&gt;: Mammary glands &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;How they benefit&lt;/b&gt;: Besides being an excellent source for Vitamin C, oranges contain bioflavonoids such as rutin and hesperidin which regulate blood flow to the breasts and retard tumour growth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Combine with:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;Small plant of methi in a salad form. The combination is great for protection of the mammary glands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;ONIONS&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/TButoeZLSPI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/d3QJ_fBliN0/s1600/infob_insertedimage_317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/TButoeZLSPI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/d3QJ_fBliN0/s320/infob_insertedimage_317.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Correspond with:&lt;/b&gt; Body’s cells. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;How they benefit:&lt;/b&gt; Onions have Vitamin C, betacarotene and certain flavonoids which are known to reduce risk caused due to cancer. The sulphur compound in onions blocks carcinogens (cancer causing genes). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Combine with&lt;/b&gt;: Brussels sprouts (from the cauliflowercabbage family). They contain bioflavonoids that retard cancer growth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-7080491763442846176?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/7080491763442846176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=7080491763442846176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7080491763442846176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7080491763442846176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2010/06/some-of-very-healthy-fruits-with-their.html' title='Some of very healthy fruits with their benefits'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/TBus0qxWRmI/AAAAAAAAAgY/15-yDRfcjgQ/s72-c/infob_insertedimage_310.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-7951131438725037459</id><published>2009-07-26T02:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T03:15:50.664-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Raj Kappor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nrgis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shree 420'/><title type='text'>Rajkpoor And Nargis - Shree 420</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/SmwrqML10RI/AAAAAAAAATU/whfx6TvaLyA/s1600-h/shree420.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362709260116807954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 263px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/SmwrqML10RI/AAAAAAAAATU/whfx6TvaLyA/s320/shree420.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Almost all love stories in India have their beginning and making in Bollywood ‘saawan’ songs. Every other Bunty-Babli, Raj-Simran, Guddu-Sweety fall in love against the backdrop of trickling rains and the ambience created by a sensuous rain song. Lovers bathe in the visual and musical impact of Hindi songs, in which the drenched, sexy heroine romances a muscle-flexing hero - while raindrops trickle down their bodies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bollywood songs on the rainy season have assisted many-a-love-story. But the recent love-story of the elusive and old-fashioned Mr Monsoon and the ‘bindaas’ Miss Rain is truly ‘chatpata’. Here is an eyewitness’ account:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;The Love Story&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Mr Monsoon of the nearby ‘Seasons Apartment’, saw Miss Rain of ‘The Sky Building’ for the first time, he was awe-struck. After recovering, he couldn’t help voicing his emotions through: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Ek ladki bheegi bhagi si…&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;(The evergreen track from the film ‘Chalti Ka Naam Gadi (1958)’, starring Madhubala and Kishore Kumar, is hailed as a cult song. Madhubala looks ethereal in a drenched sari and Kishore Kumar is at his comic best.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, Miss Rain (who resembles Kareena according to love-smitten Mr Monsoon) was unaware of Mr Monsoon’s interest in her. She was frolicking in rain on top of ‘The Sky’, crooning: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bhaage re mann…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(The song by Sunidhi Chauhan and composed by the lesser known Sandesh Sandilya from ‘Chameli’ (2003), is feisty and fun-filled. As Kareena Kapoor, who plays a prostitute dances with abundance, Rahul Bose looks on with interest.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr Monsoon wanted lady-love to know the critical condition of his heart, so he penned a poem, which was of course not original and hugely borrowed from age-old love song: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Zindagi bhar nahi bhulegi wo barsaat ki raat…&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;(This song from ‘Barsaat Ki Raat’ (1960) by Mohammad Rafi is still remembered for its romance and melody. Its lyrics are by the veteran Sahir Ludhianvi and the song been filmed on Bharat Bhushan and Madhubala.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, the question of a messenger confronted Mr Monsoon and he thought of ‘Bijli - the hot maid’ (no, mind you! He always has honourable intentions for maids unlike some film stars). He asked Bijli to be his messenger and hand over the love letter to Miss Rain. Now, Bijli was too eager to please the sweet Mr Monsoon, who never sought her out like others did. She readily agreed, more so, because she fancied a lad in ‘The Sky Building’. Swaying her body like the hot babes of cinema, she started towards the building, singing the hot number: &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tip tip barsa paani…&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(This is a typical Bollywood rain song from ‘Mohra’ (1994) in which Raveena Tandon donning a diaphanous saree tries to seduce the impassive Akshay Kumar. Sung by Alka Yagnik, Udit Narayan and composed by Viju Shah, this song continues to top memory charts for its ‘latkas and jhatkas’).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bijli handed over the letter to Miss Rain, who showed her indignation by tearing it and throwing it on her face. Bijli made faces at her before saying that she shouldn’t be so vain and she will never get such a gentlemanly admirer like Mr Monsoon. Miss Rains closed the door on her face. Meanwhile, Mr Monsoon was listening to the romantic number: &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rimjhim gire saawan&lt;/strong&gt;…&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Composed by R D Burman, this song was beautifully rendered by Kishore Kumar and Lata in ‘Manzil’ (1977). The song has been brilliantly picturised on Amitabh and Moushmi strolling the streets of Mumbai.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Bijli returned and pressed the doorbell, Mr Monsoon ran to the door in anticipation. But seeing her crestfallen face, he guessed Miss Rain’s reply. His heart gave a strange lurch, (he thought it was breaking) and he sunk to the ground. Bijli wailed and the neighbours came in and put him on the bed. Mr Monsoon fell love-sick. At that moment, RJ Sangeeta was playing a beautiful number on FM, which worsened Mr Monsoon’s condition: &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pyar hua ikraar hua hai…&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(This classic from ‘Shri 420’ (1955) is the first song that comes to our mind when we think of a rain number in Bollywood. Composed by Shankar Jaikishan, and sung by Lata Mangeshkar-Manna Dey jodi, it is picturised on the legendary onscreen couple – Raj Kapoor and Nargis.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, Miss Rain couldn’t contain her curiosity; she wanted to read the love letter. So, she assembled the torn bits and read the emotional outburst. The love-letter touched her heart, she got distracted, and so she switched on the TV to get over the uneasiness. On TV, they were showing: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Ye saazish hai boondon ki…&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;(The romantic number from ‘Fanaa’ (2006), is a turning point in the film, where Kajol plays a blind girl and Aamir Khan, a terrorist. Sonu Nigam and Sunidhi Chauhan have rendered the song.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miss Rain now wanted to catch a glimpse of her admirer, who sounded so devoted to her. So, she went atop her building again to see what Mr Monsoon looked like. The moment Mr Monsoon saw her there, shyly glancing towards him, he couldn’t help jumping out of bed and dancing to the tunes of: &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dum dum diga diga&lt;/strong&gt;…&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(This popular Kalyanji-Anandji song from ‘Chhaliya’ (1960) has been rendered by Mukesh and picturised skillfully on Raj Kapoor.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moment their eyes met, it started raining. Miss Rain, who immensely liked the first look of the handsome Mr Monsoon, smiled merrily at him and sang with delight: &lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Barso re megha megha…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;(Picturised on Aishwarya in the film ‘Guru’ (2007) the song by Shreya Ghoshal captures the euphoria rain creates.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr Monsoon waved back. Bijli, who was seeing the entire episode, asked Mr Monsoon to scribble date and time on a chart-paper and show it to Miss Rain. Miss Rain saw it and went in without a word. On D-day, Mr Monsoon sat in a park on a bench, singing: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Aakhir tumhe aana hai…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(A typical rain-song from the film ‘Yulgaar’ (1992). Rendered by Kumar Sanu and filmed on Nagma and Sanjay Dutt, this song was on the lips of every dandy in town.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miss Rain came and the weather changed. It started raining, flowers bloomed, birds chirped and trees danced with delight. There was fragrance and love in the air as the two met. From afar, someone was playing: &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rimjhim rimjhim, rumjhum rumjhum&lt;/strong&gt;… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(This beautiful song by Kumar Sanu and Kavita Krishnamurthy from the film ‘1942 A Love Story’ (1943), is known for its romantic and amazing picturisation. Anil Kapoor and Manisha Koirala looked striking in the song.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this was how Mr Monsoon and Miss Rain fell madly in love. Their love is still growing strong, inspite of stiff opposition from the ‘polluted’ world and its people… but this doesn’t stop the duo from dancing and singing on popular rain songs of Bollywood at every given opportunity: &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ghode jaisi chal (Dil to paagal hai)…Ghanan ghanan(Lagaan)…Saawan barse (Dahek) and so on&lt;/strong&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their message to all - Keep drizzling with love! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-7951131438725037459?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/7951131438725037459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=7951131438725037459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7951131438725037459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7951131438725037459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2009/07/rajkpoor-and-nargis-shree-420.html' title='Rajkpoor And Nargis - Shree 420'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/SmwrqML10RI/AAAAAAAAATU/whfx6TvaLyA/s72-c/shree420.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-1287659990649777325</id><published>2009-06-16T03:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T04:02:57.655-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>LOVE &amp; LIFE</title><content type='html'>This story tells us something about LOVE &amp;amp; LIFE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband is S/W Engineer by profession, I love him for his steady nature and I love the warm feeling when I lean against his broad shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two years of courtship and now, five years into marriage, I would have to admit, that I am getting tired of it. The reasons of me loving him before, has now transformed into the cause of all my restlessness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a sentimental woman and extremely sensitive when it comes to a relationship and my feelings. I yearn for the romantic moments, like a little girl yearning for candy. My husband is my complete opposite; his lack of sensitivity, and the inability of bringing romantic moments into our marriage has disheartened me about LOVE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, I finally decided to tell him my decision, that I wanted a divorce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why?" he asked, shocked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am tired. There are no reasons for everything in the world!" I answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He kept silent the whole night, seemingly in deep thought. My feeling of disappointment only increased. Here was a man who was not able to even express his predicament, so what else could I expect from him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally he asked me: "What can I do to change your mind?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody said it right... It's hard to change a person's personality, and I guess, I have started losing faith in him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking deep into his eyes I slowly answered: "Here is the question. If you can answer and convince my heart, I will change my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's say, I want a flower located on the face of a mountain cliff, and we both are sure that picking the flower will cause your death. Will you do it for me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said: "I will give you your answer tomorrow...." My hopes just sank by listening to his response.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up the next morning to find him gone, and saw a piece of paper with his scratchy handwriting underneath a milk glass, on the dining table near the front door, that goes....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dear, "I would not pick that flower for you, but....please allow me to explain the reasons further.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This first line was already breaking my heart. I continued reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When you use the computer you always mess up the Software programs, and you cry in front of the screen. I have to save my fingers so that I can help to restore the programs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You always leave the house keys behind, thus I have to save my legs to rush home to open the door for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You love traveling but always lose your way in a new city. I have to save my eyes to show you the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You always have the cramps whenever your "good friend" approaches every month. I have to save my palms so that I can calm the cramps in your tummy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You like to stay indoors, and I worry that you will be infected by infantile autism. I have to save my mouth to tell you jokes and stories to cure your boredom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You always stare at the computer, and that will do nothing good for your eyes. I have to save my eyes so that when we grow old, I can help to clip your nails and help to remove those annoying white hairs. So I can also hold your hand while strolling down the beach, as you enjoy the sunshine and the beautiful sand...and tell you the colour of flowers, just like the colour of the glow on your young face...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus, my dear, unless I am sure that there is someone who loves you more than I do... I could not pick that flower yet, and die ... "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My tears fell on the letter, and blurred the ink of his handwriting. .. And as I continue on reading... "Now, that you have finished reading my answer, and if you are satisfied, please open the front door for I am standing outside bringing your favorite bread and fresh milk...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rushed to pull open the door, and saw his anxious face, clutching tightly with his hands, the milk bottle and loaf of bread....Now I am very sure that no one will ever love me as much as he does, and I have decided to leave the flower alone...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's LIFE, and LOVE. When one is surrounded by love, the feeling of excitement fades away, and one tends to ignore the true love that lies in between the peace and dullness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love shows up in all forms; even in very small and cheeky forms. It has never been a model. It could be the dullest and most boring form ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flowers, and romantic moments are only used and appear on the surface of the relationship. Under all this, the pillar of true love stands... AND THAT'S LIFE&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-1287659990649777325?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/1287659990649777325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=1287659990649777325' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/1287659990649777325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/1287659990649777325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2009/06/love-life.html' title='LOVE &amp; LIFE'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-5413710991367281538</id><published>2009-04-19T21:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T21:52:50.206-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>The Master</title><content type='html'>When one Guru  was dying, one of his deciple asked him "Guruji, who was your master?"He said, "I had thousands of masters. If I just relate their names it will take months, years and it is too late. But three masters I will certainly tell you about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One was a thief. Once I got lost in the desert, and when I reached a village it was very late, everything was closed. But at last I found one man who was trying to make a hole in t he wall of a house. I asked him where I could stay and he said 'At this time of night it will be difficult, but you can say with me - if you can stay with a thief'.And the man was so beautiful. I stayed for one month! And each night he would say to me, 'Now I am going to my work. You rest, you pray.' When he came back I would ask 'Could you get anything?' He would say, 'Not tonight. But tomorrow I will try again, God willing.' He was never in a state of hopelessness, he was always happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was meditating and meditating for years on end and nothing was happening, many times the moment came when I was so desperate, so hopeless,that I thought to stop all this nonsense. And suddenly I would remember the thief who would say every night, 'God willing, tomorrow it is going to happen.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my second master was a dog. I was going to the river, thirsty and a dog came. He was also thirsty. He looked into the river, he saw another dog there -- his own image -- and became afraid. He would bard and run away, but his thirst was so much that he would come back. Finally, despite his fear, he just jumped into the water, and the image disappeared. And I knew that a message had come to me from God: one has to jump in spite of all fears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the third master was a small child. I entered a town and a child was carrying a lit candle. He was going to the mosque to put the candle there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Just joking,' I asked the boy, 'Have you lit the candle yourself?' He said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Yes sir.' And I asked, 'There was a moment when the candle was unlit, then there was a moment when the candle was lit. Can you show me the source from which the light came?' And the boy laughed, blew out the candle, and said, 'Now you have seen the light going. Where has it gone? You will tell me!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My ego was shattered, my whole knowledge was shattered. And that moment I felt my own stupidity. Since then I dropped all my knowledgeability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is true that I had no master. That does not mean that I was not a disciple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- I accepted the whole existence as my master. My Disciplehood was a greater involvement than yours is. I trusted the clouds, the trees. I trusted existence as such. I had no master because I had millions of masters I learned from every possible source. To be a disciple is a must on the path. What does it mean to be a disciple? It means to be able to learn. To be available to learn to be vulnerable to existence. With a master you start learning to learn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The master is a swimming pool where you can learn how to swim. Once you have learned, all the oceans are yours."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-5413710991367281538?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/5413710991367281538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=5413710991367281538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/5413710991367281538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/5413710991367281538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2009/04/master.html' title='The Master'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-3864066998040276967</id><published>2009-03-10T05:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T05:11:40.696-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>WET PANTS</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Come with me to a third grade classroom... ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a nine-year-old kid sitting at his desk and all of a sudden, there is a puddle between his feet and the front of his pants are wet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He thinks his heart is going to stop because he cannot possibly imagine how this has happened. It's never happened before, and he knows that when the boys find out he will never hear the end of it..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the girls find out, they'll never speak to him again as long as he lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy believes his heart is going to stop; he puts his head down and prays this prayer, "Dear God, this is an emergency! I need help now! Five minutes from now I'm dead meat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looks up from his prayer and here comes the teacher with a look in her eyes that says he has been discovered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the teacher is walking toward him, a classmate named Susie is carrying a goldfish bowl that is filled with water. Susie trips in front of the teacher and inexplicably dumps the bowl of water in the boy's lap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy pretends to be angry, but all the while is saying to himself,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thank you, Lord! Thank you, Lord!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now all of a sudden, instead of being the object of ridicule, the boy is the object of sympathy. The teacher rushes him downstairs and gives him gym shorts to put on while his pants dry out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the other children are on their hands and knees cleaning up around his desk. The sympathy is wonderful. But as life would have it, the ridicule that should have been his has been transferred to someone else - Susie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She tries to help, but they tell her to get out. "You've done enough, you klutz! "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, at the end of the day, as they are waiting for the bus, the boy walks over to Susie and whispers, "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Susie whispers back, "I wet my pants once too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May God help us see the opportunities that are always around us to do good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each and everyone one of us are going through tough times right now, but God is getting ready to bless you in a way that only He can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;********&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Keep the faith&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When God Answers your Prayer He is increasing your Faith,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When He delays, He is increasing your Patience,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When He Don't Give U Anything, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He has Something BETTER"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-3864066998040276967?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/3864066998040276967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=3864066998040276967' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/3864066998040276967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/3864066998040276967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2009/03/wet-pants.html' title='WET PANTS'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-2220727433977199605</id><published>2009-02-06T01:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T09:24:56.182-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>A Nice Story about Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;!-- Kontera ContentLink(TM);--&gt;&lt;script type="'text/javascript'"&gt;var dc_AdLinkColor = 'blue' ; var dc_PublisherID = 94063 ; &lt;/script&gt;&lt;script type="'text/javascript'" src="'http://kona.kontera.com/javascript/lib/KonaLibInline.js'"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A Nice Article about Love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;-by Swami Vivekananda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once had a friend who grew to be very close to me. Once when we were sitting at the edge of a swimming pool, she filled the palm of her hand with some water and held it before me, and said this: "You see this water carefully contained on my hand? It symbolizes Love."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was how I saw it: As long as you keep your hand caringly open and allow it to remain there, it will always be there. However, if you attempt to close your fingers round it and try to posses it, it will spill through the first cracks it finds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the greatest mistake that people do when they meet love...they try to posses it, they demand, they expect... And just like the water spilling out of your hand, love will retrieve from you .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For love is meant to be free, you cannot change its nature. If there are people you love, allow them to be free beings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give and don't expect.Advise, but don't order.Ask, but never demand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It might sound simple, but it is a lesson that may take a lifetime to truly practice. It is the secret to true love. To truly practice it, you must sincerely feel no expectations from those who you love, and yet an unconditional caring."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passing thought... Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take; but by the moments that take our breath away.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is beautiful!!! Live it !!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-2220727433977199605?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/2220727433977199605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=2220727433977199605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/2220727433977199605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/2220727433977199605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2009/02/nice-story-about-love.html' title='A Nice Story about Love'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-5058050136967475912</id><published>2009-02-06T01:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T01:48:42.377-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>19 HORSES</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;One rich man owned 19 horses when he died. In his last will and teastament he had written that upon his death, half the horses he owned should go to his only son; one fourth to the village temple and one fifth to the faithful servant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The village elders could not stop scratching their heads. How can they give half of the 19 horses to the son? You cannot cut up a horse. They puzzled over this dilemma for more than two weeks and then decided to send for a wise man who was living in a neighbouring village. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The wise man came riding on his horse and asked the villagers if he can be of any help to them. The village elders told him about the rich man's last will and testament which stated that half of the (19) horses must be given to his only son, one fourth must go to the temple and one fifth to the faithful servant. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The wise man said he will immediately solve their problem without any delay whatsoever. He had the 19 horses placed in a row standing next to one another. Then he added his own horse as the 20 th horse. Now he went about giving half of the 20 horses – that is ten horses to the son. One fourth of 20- that is 5 horses were given to the temple committee. One fifth of twenty- that is 4 horses were given to the faithful servant. Ten plus five plus four made 19 horses. The remaining 20 th horse was his own which he promptly mounted, spoke a few inspiring words, and rode back home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; The villagers were simply dumfounded, full of disbelief and filled with admiration. And the parting words of the wise man were inscribed in their hearts and minds which they greatly cherished and passed on to their succeeding generations till today. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The wise man said: In our daily lives, in our daily affairs, simply add God's name and then go about facing the day's happenings. Ever come across problems in life that are seemingly insurmountable? (Like the villagers, do we feel that such problems cannot be solved?). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The wise man continued: Add the God Principle in our daily lives and the problems will become lighter and eventually will disappear. In the manner of the ice which, with the addition of the heat principle will turn into water, and that will eventually evaporate as steam and disappear. And how do we add God's name in our daily lives? Through prayers, filled with true love and devotion with sincerity of purpose and dedication that only total faith can bring about. Meditation is a powerful means of directing the mind Godward. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But without true love and devotion entering into it, it remains like a boat without water. It is not difficult to push a boat that is floating in water, but extremely hard to drag the same boat on dry land. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;In the same way, if our life's boat floats on the waters of true love and devotion, we can sail easily in it. The principle of love of God and devotion with total faith, (like water) makes easy the voyage of our lives. When the mind is pure and the heart full of simplicity and holiness, such a devotee becomes an instrument in the service of the Lord.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-5058050136967475912?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/5058050136967475912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=5058050136967475912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/5058050136967475912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/5058050136967475912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2009/02/19-horses.html' title='19 HORSES'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-8481182370499764024</id><published>2008-12-05T03:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T03:08:05.210-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>The Tailor's Needle</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A tailor was at work. He took a piece of cloth and with a pair of shining, costly, scissors, he cut the cloth into various bits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he put the pair of scissors at his feet. Then he took a small needle and thread and started to sew the bits of cloth, into a fine shirt. When the spell of sewing was over, he stuck the needle on to his turban. The tailor's son who was watching it asked him: "Father, the scissors are costly and look so beautiful. But you throw them down at your feet. This needle is worth almost nothing; you can get a dozen for an Anna. Yet, you place it carefully on your head itself. Is there any reason for this illogical Behaviour?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, my son. The scissors have their function, no doubt; but they only cut the cloth into bits. The needle, on the contrary, unites the bits and enhances the value of the cloth. Therefore, the needle to me is more precious and valuable. The value of a thing depends on its utility, son, not on its cost-price or appearance."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Similarly, there are two classes of people in the world-those who create dissensions and disharmony, who separate man from man; and those who bring about peace and harmony, who unite people. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;*******&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The former are generally the rich people, powerful politicians and kings; the latter are generally the poor devotees of God, the penniless wandering monks, and mendicants. The Lord makes use of both to carry on his function of providing the field for the evolution of individual souls. He throws down on the dust the mighty kings and millionaires who create wars and disharmony; and He keeps the poor, pious devotee over His own head.  In His eyes the scale of values is entirely different!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-8481182370499764024?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/8481182370499764024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=8481182370499764024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/8481182370499764024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/8481182370499764024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/12/tailors-needle.html' title='The Tailor&apos;s Needle'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-2817264772772436891</id><published>2008-11-27T08:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T08:27:59.473-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>A date !</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/SS7KernUJ7I/AAAAAAAAAS0/oCTBLGvA1J0/s1600-h/untitled2345.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273374842149939122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 245px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 296px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/SS7KernUJ7I/AAAAAAAAAS0/oCTBLGvA1J0/s320/untitled2345.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;After 21 years of marriage, my wife wanted me to take another woman out to dinner and a movie. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;She said I love you but I know this other woman loves you and would love to spend some time with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my MOTHER, who has been a widow for 19 years, but the demands of my work and my three children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"What's wrong, are you well," she asked? My mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I thought that it would be pleasant to be with you," I responded. "Just the two of us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"She thought about it for a moment, and then said, "I would like that very much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous. When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. She waited in the door with her coat on. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;She smiled from a face that was as radiant as an angel's.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed, "she said, as she got into the car. "They can't wait to hear about our meeting". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy. My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady. After we sat down,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I had to read the menu. Large print. Half way through the entries, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there staring at me. A nostalgic smile was on her lips.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small," she said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Then it's time that you relax and let me return the favor," I responded.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;During the dinner, we had an agreeable conversation - nothing extraordinary, but catching up on recent events of each other's life. We talked so much that we missed the movie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As we arrived at her house later, she said, "I'll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite you." I agreed."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;How was your dinner date?" asked my wife when I got home. "Very nice. Much more so than I could have imagined," I answered.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A few days later, my mother died of a massive heart attack. It happened so suddenly that I did to do anything for her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Some time later, I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant receipt from the same place mother and I had dined.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;An attached note said: "I paid this bill in advance. I wasn't sure that I could be there; but nevertheless, I paid for two plates - one for you and the other for your wife. You will never know what that night meant for me. I love you, son.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"At that moment, I understood the importance of saying in time: "I LOVE YOU!" and to give our loved ones the time that they deserve. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nothing in life is more important than God and your family. Give them the time they deserve, because these things cannot be put off till "some other time."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;**********&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pass this along to everyone with an aging parent, to a child, to an adult, to anyone with a parent. Here's hoping today is better than yesterday and tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-2817264772772436891?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/2817264772772436891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=2817264772772436891' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/2817264772772436891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/2817264772772436891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/11/date.html' title='A date !'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_22MTuFjJ2JY/SS7KernUJ7I/AAAAAAAAAS0/oCTBLGvA1J0/s72-c/untitled2345.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-1477907604587160785</id><published>2008-11-27T08:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T08:13:28.430-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>Devil's most 'used' instrument</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It was advertised that the devil was going to put his tools up for sale. On the date of the sale, the tools were placed for public inspection; each tool being marked with its sale price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were a treacherous lot of implements.. . Hatred, Envy, Jealousy, Deceit, Lying, Pride, and so on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laid apart from the rest was a harmless looking tool, that appeared to have been heavily used, and was priced very high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What is the name of this tool?" asked one of the purchasers, pointing to it. "That is Discouragement," replied the devil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why have you priced it so high?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because it is more useful to me than all the others. I can pry open and get inside people's hearts with that when I cannot get near them with my other tools. Once I get inside, I can make them do what I choose. It is badly worn because I use it on almost everyone, since very few people know that it belongs to me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never get discouraged! Keep your head up keep the faith!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-1477907604587160785?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/1477907604587160785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=1477907604587160785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/1477907604587160785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/1477907604587160785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/11/devils-most-used-instrument.html' title='Devil&apos;s most &apos;used&apos; instrument'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-3962393774913346553</id><published>2008-11-27T08:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T08:11:37.600-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>The Richest Man In The Valley</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A rich landowner named Carl often rode around his vast estate so he could congratulate himself on his great wealth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day while riding around his estate on his favorite horse, he saw Hans, an old tenant farmer. Hans was sitting under a tree when Carl rode by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hans said, 'I was just thanking God for my food.'Carl protested, 'If that is all I had to eat, I wouldn't feel like giving thanks.'Hans replied, 'God has given me everything I need, and I am thankful for it.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old farmer added, 'It is strange you should come by today because I had a dream last night. In my dream a voice told me, 'The richest man in the valley will die tonight.' I don't know what it means, but I thought I ought to tell you.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carl snorted, 'Dreams are nonsense,' and galloped away, but he could not forget Hans' words: 'The richest man in the valley will die tonight.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was obviously the richest man in the valley, so he invited his doctor to his house that evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carl told the doctor what Hans had said. After a thorough examination, the doctor told the wealthy landowner, 'Carl, you are as strong and healthy as a horse. There is no way you are going to die tonight.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless, for assurance, the doctor stayed with Carl, and they played cards through the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor left the next morning and Carl apologized for becoming so upset over the old man's dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At about nine o'clock, a messenger arrived at Carl's door.'What is it?' Carl demanded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The messenger explained, 'It's about old Hans. He died last night in his sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;'*******&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Being rich has nothing to do with money or possessions. But it has everything to do with having a relationship with God.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-3962393774913346553?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/3962393774913346553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=3962393774913346553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/3962393774913346553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/3962393774913346553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/11/richest-man-in-valley.html' title='The Richest Man In The Valley'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-4693015681351592207</id><published>2008-11-22T03:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T03:41:05.995-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>Five More Minutes.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;While at the park one day, a woman sat down next to a man on a bench near a playground. That's my son over there, she said, pointing to a little boy in a red sweater who was gliding down the slide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's a fine looking boy, the man said. That's my son on the swing in the blue sweater. Then, looking at his watch, he called to his son. What do you say we go, Todd&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todd pleaded, Just five more minutes, Dad. Please Just five more minutes. The man nodded and Todd continued to swing to his heart's content.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minutes passed and the father stood and called again to his son. Time to go now Again Todd pleaded, Five more minutes, Dad. Just five more minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man smiled and said, O.K.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My, you certainly are a patient father, the woman responded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man smiled and then said, My older son Tommy was killed by a drunk driver last year while he was riding his bike near here. I never spent much time with Tommy and now I'd give anything for just five more minutes with him. I've vowed not to make the same mistake with Todd. He thinks he has five more minutes to swing. The truth is, I get Five more minutes to watch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-4693015681351592207?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/4693015681351592207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=4693015681351592207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/4693015681351592207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/4693015681351592207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/11/five-more-minutes.html' title='Five More Minutes.'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-1667626597707603414</id><published>2008-11-22T03:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T03:38:57.293-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>Modern Panchtantra Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&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),&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He started praying to the River Goddess. 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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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;br /&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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him all three items, but before she could make the offer, the engineer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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 donkey! 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;********&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Moral :&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;If you're not up-to-date with technology trends, it's better to keep your mouth shut and let people think you're a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-1667626597707603414?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/1667626597707603414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=1667626597707603414' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/1667626597707603414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/1667626597707603414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/11/modern-panchtantra-story.html' title='Modern Panchtantra Story'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-7242035809466981577</id><published>2008-11-22T03:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T03:33:28.831-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>Confidence &amp; Self Esteem</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Confidence and Self-Esteem were best friends. They went everywhere together. If Confidence bought a new dress, Self-Esteem bought one just like it. They were very close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day a new kid came to their school. His name was Peer Pressure. He had a friend called Hateful Words. They decided to give Confidence a hard time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They constantly teased her. They forced her to do terrible things. It was so terrible that Confidence lost Self-Esteem. When Self-Esteem wanted to start some classes, Confidence said they wouldn't be any good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then one day, Peer Pressure introduced Confidence to Doubt. He wanted to ruin Confidence, but Peer Pressure said he couldn't yet. Self Esteem couldn't understand what was wrong with Confidence. Confidence now hung around with Depression, Low Self-Esteem, and Overeating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These girls were friends of Peer Pressure. Self-Esteem no longer had any friends. She no longer felt good about herself. She went to see her Imaam. Imaam Good Words told her how to talk to Confidence. He introduced her to his daughter, Encouragement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encouragement and Self-Esteem went to find Confidence. Self Esteem hoped she wasn't too late. The girls found Confidence in a stupor. She was no longer a vibrant, happy young girl. There were dark circles under her eyes. She had gained so much weight from eating that she couldn't move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encouragement gasped and Self-Esteem cried. She begged Encouragement to do something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encouragement began to hug Confidence. She kissed her and loved her. She told her that she was a beautiful young lady who had a lot going for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encouragement held Confidence so tightly that Self-Esteem thought she would smother her. Confidence began to cry. As she cried, she seemed to lose weight. Then a bright light suddenly glowed from Confidence and she began to smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peer Pressure and his friends didn't like what Encouragement was doing and tried to attack her. They hit at her and pulled at her, but they couldn't pull her away from Confidence. Then Confidence began to speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Get away from me, Peer Pressure. Take your friends and go. You no longer have any power over me." Confidence was now a glowing light. She and her friends made sure that Peer Pressure and his gang never bothered anyone in their town again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;                                                 ***********&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you feel that Encouragement is not your friend, then try to find Encouragement in yourself. Self-Esteem and Confidence will follow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-7242035809466981577?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/7242035809466981577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=7242035809466981577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7242035809466981577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7242035809466981577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/11/confidence-self-esteem.html' title='Confidence &amp; Self Esteem'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-189705340944003214</id><published>2008-11-22T03:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T03:25:05.544-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>What is on the other side?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A sick man turned to his doctor, as he was preparing to leave the examination room and said, with tears in his eyes, "Doctor, I am afraid to die, please tell me what is on the other side?"                                                              &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very quietly, the doctor said, "I don't know"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "You don't know?" said the sick man, "How come you don't know what is on the other side?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor was holding the handle of the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other side of the door, there was a sound of scratching and whining. As he opened the door, a dog sprang into the room and leaped on him with an eager show of gladness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turning to the patient, the doctor said, "Did you notice my dog? It has never been in this room before; it didn't know what was inside except that its master was here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the door opened, it sprang in without fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We don't know what is on the other side of death, but we know that our Master is there and that is quite enough".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-189705340944003214?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/189705340944003214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=189705340944003214' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/189705340944003214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/189705340944003214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-is-on-other-side.html' title='What is on the other side?'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-7447827642452434974</id><published>2008-11-11T02:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T02:46:38.955-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>Boy and Tree</title><content type='html'>There was one time a very young boy, who used to spend time playing by a tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day he got bored and he said to the tree, "I'm bored, I've played with these toys too many times!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tree replied, "OK, you can climb up on me and play on my branches."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy got really happy with this suggestion and he had a lot of fun playing and sitting high up, on the branches of the tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he started school, he spent more time away from the tree, but one day he came back to it, and the tree was overjoyed to see its young companion, and it encouraged him to climb on, but he refused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My clothes are going to get dirty if I climb up on you."So the tree thought for a while, and said, "OK, bring a rope and tie it to me, and you can use my branches as a swing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy liked that idea, so he did that too, and would come back every other day to sit for a while on that swing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever he used to get hot, the tree told him to rest in its shade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he got older, and moved on to college, times became harder on him and he ran short of food, so he went back to the tree which he had stopped visiting for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tree recognised him immediately and welcomed him, but he was hungry and complained to the tree, "I don't have any food to eat, my stomach is cringing with hunger."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the tree said, "Pull down my branches and take off the fruit, and fill yourself up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The young guy didn't even hesitate, but jumped up and tore off one of the smaller branches and ate to his fill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the weeks, he tore off all the branches and ate all the fruit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the fruits had all gone, he went away and didn't come back to the tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he reached his middle ages, he came back to the tree and said to it, "I have been very successful in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have earned a lot of money, I have a huge house and I have found a great wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I want to travel and see the world."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tree was now very old, but to help its long time companion, it didn't wait, and said, "Bring a saw, cut off my trunk and make a boat. Then you will see the wonders of the world."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So again, without hesitation the man cut down the tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The same tree which he had played on, ate its fruit, laid in its shade; he cut it down and made a boat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as it was finished, he sailed away and wasn't seen by his people again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, an old man, walked past the tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hadnt recovered from the time he had cut it down. He went up to the tree, but didn't say anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He felt the tears coming down from his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time the tree spoke in a faint voice, "I'm sorry. I don't have a trunk for you to climb, nor fruit for you to eat, nor branches of shade for you to lie in. All I have now are my deep roots."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man whispered, "That's fine. Tree roots are the best place to lie down, snuggle up and sleep after a long life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tree symbolizes our parents, and the boy symbolizes us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moral of the story is that we make use of our parents like tissue, and use them all up, and don't even give thanks, but they stay with us till the very end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-7447827642452434974?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/7447827642452434974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=7447827642452434974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7447827642452434974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7447827642452434974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/11/boy-and-tree.html' title='Boy and Tree'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-2901353573826954599</id><published>2008-11-11T02:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T02:44:27.579-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>The bowl</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A man and his dog were walking along a road. The man was enjoying the scenery, when it suddenly occurred to him that he was dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He remembered dying, and that the dog walking beside him had been dead for years. He wondered where the road was leading them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a while, they came to a high, white stone wall along one side of the road. It looked like fine marble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the top of a long hill, it was broken by a tall arch that glowed in the sunlight.When he was standing before it he saw a magnificent gate in the arch that looked like mother-of-pearl, and the street that led to the gate looked like pure gold. He and the dog walked toward the gate, and as he got closer, he saw a man at a desk to one side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he was close enough, he called out, "Excuse me, where are we?"?"This is Heaven, sir," the man answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wow! Would you happen to have some water?" the man asked."Of course, sir. Come right in, and I'll have some ice water brought right up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man gestured, and the gate began to open. "Can my friend," gesturing toward his dog, "come in, too?" the traveler asked.? I'm sorry, sir, but we don't accept pets."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man thought a moment and then turned back toward the road and continued the way he had been going with his dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After another long walk, and at the top of another long hill, he came to a dirt road leading through a farm gate that looked as if it had never been closed. There was no fence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he approached the gate, he saw a man inside, leaning against a tree and reading a book. "Excuse me!" he called to the man. "Do you have any water?"? "Yeah, sure, there's a pump over there, come on in."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How about my friend here?" the traveler gestured to the dog.? "There should be a bowl by the pump." They went through the gate, and sure enough, there was an old-fashioned hand pump with a bowl beside it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The traveler filled the water bowl and took a long drink himself, then he gave some to the dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they were full, he and the dog walked back toward the man who was standing by the tree.?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you call this place?" the traveler asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is Heaven," he answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, that's confusing," the traveler said. "The man down the road said that was Heaven, too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly gates? Nope. That's hell."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Doesn't it make you mad for them to use your name like that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, we're just happy that they screen out the folks who would leave their best friends behind."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-2901353573826954599?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/2901353573826954599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=2901353573826954599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/2901353573826954599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/2901353573826954599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/11/bowl.html' title='The bowl'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-4864874991366870413</id><published>2008-11-11T02:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T02:42:32.348-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>MOUSE TRAP STORY</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What food might this contain? The mouse wondered - he was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed the warning : There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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;br /&gt;The mouse turned to the pig and told him, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mouse turned to the cow and said "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cow said, "Wow, Mr. Mouse. I'm sorry for you, but it's no skin off my nose." So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face the farmer's mousetrap alone.&lt;br /&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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The snake bit the farmer's wife. The farmer rushed her to the hospital, and she returned home with a fever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many people came for her funeral, the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mouse looked upon it all from his crack in the wall with great sadness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SEND THIS TO EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER HELPED YOU OUT AND LET THEM KNOW HOW IMPORTANT THEY ARE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REMEMBER,,,, EACH OF US IS A VITAL THREAD IN ANOTHER PERSON'S TAPESTRY; OUR LIVES ARE WOVEN TOGETHER FOR A REASON.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-4864874991366870413?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/4864874991366870413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=4864874991366870413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/4864874991366870413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/4864874991366870413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/11/mouse-trap-story.html' title='MOUSE TRAP STORY'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-3097583942212913846</id><published>2008-11-11T02:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T02:40:18.729-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>The Fork</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;There was a woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. So as she was getting her things "in order", she contacted her pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes.  She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://funlok.com/index.php/story/the-fork.html" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The woman also requested to be buried with her favorite Bible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://funlok.com/index.php/story/the-fork.html" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Everything was in order and the pastor was preparing to leave when the woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://funlok.com/index.php/story/the-fork.html" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"There's one more thing," she said excitedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://funlok.com/index.php/story/the-fork.html" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"What's that?" came the pastor's reply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://funlok.com/index.php/story/the-fork.html" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"This is very important," the woman continued. "I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://funlok.com/index.php/story/the-fork.html" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The pastor didn't know what to say. "That surprises you, doesn't it?" the woman asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://funlok.com/index.php/story/the-fork.html" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Well, to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request," said the pastor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://funlok.com/index.php/story/the-fork.html" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The woman explained. "In all my years of attending church socials and potluck dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, 'Keep your fork'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://funlok.com/index.php/story/the-fork.html" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It was my  favorite part because I knew that something better was coming... Like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance. So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder, 'What's with the fork?' Then I  want you to tell them : "Keep your fork...the best is yet to come".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://funlok.com/index.php/story/the-fork.html" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the woman the last time he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She KNEW that something better was coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://funlok.com/index.php/story/the-fork.html" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;At the funeral people were walking by the woman's casket and they saw the pretty dress she was wearing, her favorite Bible and the fork placed in her right hand.  Over and over, the pastor heard the question, "What's with the fork?"  And over and over he smiled.  During his message, the pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the woman about what it symbolized to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://funlok.com/index.php/story/the-fork.html" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The pastor told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either. He was right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://funlok.com/index.php/story/the-fork.html" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So the next time you reach down for your fork let it remind you, oh so gently, that the best is yet to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-3097583942212913846?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/3097583942212913846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=3097583942212913846' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/3097583942212913846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/3097583942212913846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/11/fork.html' title='The Fork'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-869238964787833319</id><published>2008-11-04T20:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T20:45:16.632-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>What do we build in our lives?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Once upon a time two brothers, who lived on adjoining farms, fell into conflict. It was the first serious rift in 40 years of farming side by side, sharing machinery, and trading labor and goods as needed without a conflict.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the long collaboration fell apart. It began with a small misunderstanding and it grew into a major difference, and finally it exploded into an exchange of bitter words followed by weeks of silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One morning there was a knock on John's door. He opened it to find a man with a carpenter's tool box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm looking for a few days' work" he said. "Perhaps you would have a few small jobs here and there I could help with? Could I help you?" "Yes," said the older brother. "I do have a job for you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look across the creek at that farm. That's my neighbor; in fact, it's my younger brother. Last week there was a meadow between us and he took his bulldozer to the river levee and now there is a creek between us. Well, he may have done this to spite me, but I'll do him one better."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"See that pile of lumber by the barn? I want you to build me a fence --an 8-foot fence -- so I won't need to see his place or his face anymore."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The carpenter said, "I think I understand the situation. Show me the nails and the post-hole digger and I'll be able to do a job that pleases you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The older brother had to go to town, so he helped the carpenter get the materials ready and then he was off for the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The carpenter worked hard all that day measuring, sawing, nailing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About sunset when the farmer returned, the carpenter had just finished his job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The farmer's eyes opened wide, his jaw dropped. There was no fence there at all. It was a bridge -- a bridge stretching from one side of the creek to the other! A fine piece of work, handrails and all -- and the neighbor, his younger brother, was coming toward them, his hand outstretched. "You are quite a fellow to build this bridge after all I've said and done."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The two brothers stood at each end of the bridge, and then they met in the middle, taking each other's hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They turned to see the carpenter hoist his toolbox onto his shoulder. "No, wait! Stay a few days. I've a lot of other projects for you," said the older brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'd love to stay on," the carpenter said, but I have many more bridges to build.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-869238964787833319?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/869238964787833319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=869238964787833319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/869238964787833319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/869238964787833319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-do-we-build-in-our-lives.html' title='What do we build in our lives?'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-2483680307222993027</id><published>2008-11-04T20:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T20:40:57.948-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>THINGS MAY NOT BE WHAT THEY APPEAR</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Two traveling angels stopped to spend the night in the home of a wealthy family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The family was rude and refused to let the angels stay in the mansion's guest room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead the angels were given a small space in the cold basement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As they made their bed on the hard floor, the older angel saw a hole in the wall and repaired it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the younger angel asked why, the older angel replied,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The younger angel was infuriated and asked the older angel how could you have let this happen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first man had everything, yet you helped him, she accused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When we stayed in the basement of the mansion, noticed there was gold stored in that hole in the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Then last night as we slept in the farmers bed, the angel of death came for his wife. I gave him the cow instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things aren't always what they seem."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-2483680307222993027?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/2483680307222993027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=2483680307222993027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/2483680307222993027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/2483680307222993027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/11/things-may-not-be-what-they-appear.html' title='THINGS MAY NOT BE WHAT THEY APPEAR'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-7649678594511656639</id><published>2008-11-04T20:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T20:34:29.832-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tele Marketing'/><title type='text'>Ten ways to Stop telemarketing Calls</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ten ways to stop those credit card sales, mobile companies, insurance calls from irritating you:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;1 After the telemarketer finishes speaking, ask him/her to marry you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;2 Tell the telemarketer you are busy at the moment, and ask him/her, if he/she will give you his/her home phone number so you can call him/her back. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;3 Ask them to repeat everything they say, several times.&lt;br /&gt;4 Tell them it is dinnertime, BUT ask if they would please hold. Put them on your speaker phone while you continue to eat at your leisure. Smack your food loudly and continue with your dinner conversation. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;5 Tell them that all business goes through your agent, and hand the phone to your five year old child. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;6 Tell them you are hard of hearing and that they need to speak up.... Louder... Louder... Louder! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;7 If they start out with, "How are you today?", say "I'm so glad you asked, because no one these days seems to care, and I have all these problems.... ........." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;8 Tell them to speak very slowly because you want to write every word down. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;9 Cry out in surprise, "Helen, is that you? I've been hoping you'd call! How is the family?" When they insist they are not Helen, tell them to stop joking. This works especially well if the telemarketer is really MALE. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;10 Tell the ICICI call centre guy to call on your office number - and give him the HSBC call centre number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-7649678594511656639?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/7649678594511656639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=7649678594511656639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7649678594511656639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7649678594511656639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/11/ten-ways-to-stop-telemarketing-calls.html' title='Ten ways to Stop telemarketing Calls'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-1379114633767627632</id><published>2008-11-04T20:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T20:28:45.367-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>PRICELESS WORDS</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A husband wakes up at home with a huge hangover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He forces himself to open his eyes, and the first thing he sees is a couple of aspirins and a glass of water on the side table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He sits down and sees his clothing in front of him, all clean and pressed. He looks around the room and sees that it is in perfect order, spotless, clean. So is the rest of the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He takes the aspirins and notices a note on the table. "Honey, breakfast is on the table, I left early to go grocery shopping. Love You!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Totally shocked with the note , he goes to the kitchen and sure enough there is a hot breakfast and the morning newspaper. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His son is also at the table, eating. He asks, "Son, what happened last night?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His son says, "Well, you came home around 3 AM, drunk and delirious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Broke some crockery, puked in the hall, and gave yourself a black eye when you stumbled into the door". Confused, the man asks, "So, why is everything in order and so clean, and breakfast is on the table waiting for me? I should expect a big quarrel with her!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His son replies, "Oh, that! Mom dragged you to the bedroom, and when she tried to take your clothes n shoes off, you said, "LADY LEAVE ME ALONE! I'M MARRIED!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Moral&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Self-induced hangover - $ 400.00&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Broken crockery - $ 800.00&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Breakfast - $ 10.00&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Saying the Right Thing While Drunk – "PRICELESS "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-1379114633767627632?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/1379114633767627632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=1379114633767627632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/1379114633767627632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/1379114633767627632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/11/priceless-words.html' title='PRICELESS WORDS'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-6279349915013822210</id><published>2008-11-01T03:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T03:28:50.148-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='CONTEST'/><title type='text'>PLAY THE CONTEST AND ENJOY</title><content type='html'>PLAY THE CONTEST ON MONTH OF JANUARY AND&lt;br /&gt; THUMPS UP OR DOWN AND COMMENT ON IT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.contests2win.com/polls/43696/MONTH-OF-JANUARY"&gt;http://www.contests2win.com/polls/43696/MONTH-OF-JANUARY&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-6279349915013822210?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/6279349915013822210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=6279349915013822210' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/6279349915013822210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/6279349915013822210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/11/play-contest-and-enjoy.html' title='PLAY THE CONTEST AND ENJOY'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-4692961661921982837</id><published>2008-10-11T11:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T11:14:51.031-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>Whom to blame</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Boy was born to a couple after eleven years of marriage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were a Loving couple and the boy was the gem of their eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the boy was Around two years old, one morning the husband saw a medicine bottle Open.  He was late for office so he asked his wife to cap the bottle and keep It in the cupboard. His wife, preoccupied in the kitchen totally forgot The matter.  The boy saw the bottle and playfully went to the bottle fascinated by Its colour and drank it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It happened to be a poisonous medicine Meant for adults in small dosages. When the child collapsed the mother Hurried him to the hospital, where he died. The mother was stunned. She Was terrified how to face her husband.  When the distraught father came to the hospital and saw the dead child ,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looked at his wife and uttered just five words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;QUESTIONS:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What were the five words?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. What is the implication of this story? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;strong&gt;ANSWER :&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The husband just said "I am with you Darling"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The husband's totally unexpected reaction is a proactive Behaviour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Child is dead. He can never be brought back to life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no point In finding fault with the mother. Besides, if only he had taken time to Keep the bottle away, this would not have happened.  No one is to be blamed. She had also lost her only child. What she Needed at that moment was consolation and sympathy from the husband. That is what he gave her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If everyone can look at life with this kind of perspective, there would Be much fewer problems in the world. "A journey of a thousand miles Begins with a single step." Take off all your envies, jealousies, Unforgiveness, selfishness, and fears. And you will find things are Actually not as difficult as you think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MORAL OF THE STORY&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sometimes we spend time in asking who is responsible or whom to blame, Whether in a relationship, in a job or with the people we know. By this Way we miss out some warmth in human relationship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-4692961661921982837?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/4692961661921982837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=4692961661921982837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/4692961661921982837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/4692961661921982837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/10/whom-to-blame.html' title='Whom to blame'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-8765368011091382407</id><published>2008-10-11T11:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T11:08:18.278-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>Sand and Stone</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This story tells of two friends walking through the desert. During some point of the journey, they had an argument, and one friend slapped the other one in the face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one who got slapped was hurt, but without saying anything, wrote in the sand:&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;They kept on walking until they found an oasis, where they decided to take a bath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one who had been slapped got stuck in the mire and started drowning, but the friend saved him. After he recovered from the near drowning, he wrote on a stone:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The friend who had slapped and saved his best friend asked him, "After I hurt you, you wrote in the sand, and now, you write on a stone. Why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other friend replied, "When someone hurts us, we should write it down in sand, where winds of forgiveness can erase it away. When someone does something good for us, we must engrave it in stone, where no wind can ever erase it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Learn to write your hurts in sand, and to carve your benefits in stone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-8765368011091382407?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/8765368011091382407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=8765368011091382407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/8765368011091382407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/8765368011091382407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/10/sand-and-stone.html' title='Sand and Stone'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-752709741871297444</id><published>2008-10-11T11:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T11:05:02.658-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>Where to tap</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ever heard the story of the giant ship engine that failed? The  ship's owners tried one expert after another, but none of them could figure but how to fix the engine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they brought in an  old man who had been fixing ships since he was a youngster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He carried a large bag of tools with him, and when he arrived, he  immediately went to work. He inspected the engine very carefully,  top to bottom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two of the ship's owners were there, watching this man, hoping he  would know what to do. After looking things over, the old man  reached into his bag and pulled out a small hammer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gently  tapped something. Instantly, the engine lurched into life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He carefully put his hammer away. The engine was fixed! A week later,  the owners received a bill from the old man for ten thousand  dollars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?!" the owners exclaimed. "He hardly did anything!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So they wrote the old man a note saying, "Please send us an  itemized bill."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man sent a bill that read:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tapping with a hammer ..   $         2.00&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowing where to ......... $      9998.00&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;***********&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-752709741871297444?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/752709741871297444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=752709741871297444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/752709741871297444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/752709741871297444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/10/where-to-tap.html' title='Where to tap'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-6652578737051118164</id><published>2008-10-11T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T11:03:02.837-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>The Cow &amp; The Pig</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;There was once a man who was very rich and very miserly at the same time. The villagers disliked him intensely. One day he said to them, "Either you're jealous of me or you don't understand my love of money-God alone knows. But you dislike me; that much I know. When I die, I won't take anything with me. I will leave it all for others. I will make a will, and I will give everything to charity. Then everyone will be happy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even then people mocked and laughed at him. The rich man said to them, "What is the matter with you? Can't you wait a few years to see my money go to charity?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The villagers didn't believe him. He said, "Do you think I'm immortal? I'll die like everyone else, and then my money will go to charities." He couldn't understand why they didn't believe him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day he went for a walk. All of a sudden it started raining heavily, so he took shelter under a tree. Under this tree he saw a pig and a cow. The pig and the cow entered into conversation, and the man overheard what they were saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pig said to the cow, "How is it that everybody appreciates you and nobody appreciates me? When I die, I provide people with bacon, ham and sausage. People can also use my bristles. I give three or four things, whereas you give only one thing: milk. Why do people appreciate you all the time and not me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cow said to the pig, "Look, I give them milk while I'm alive. They see that I am generous with what I have. But you don't give them anything while you're alive. Only after you're dead do you give ham, bacon and so forth. People don't believe in the future; they believe in the present. If you give while you are alive, people will appreciate you. It is quite simple."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From that moment on, the rich man gave all he had to the poor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;********&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-6652578737051118164?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/6652578737051118164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=6652578737051118164' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/6652578737051118164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/6652578737051118164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/10/cow-pig.html' title='The Cow &amp; The Pig'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-3910634360172725586</id><published>2008-10-11T10:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T11:01:12.786-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>Give me your e-mail</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A jobless man applied for the position of "office boy" at Some Company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The HR manager interviewed him then watched him cleaning the floor as a test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You are employed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said." Give me your e-mail address and I'll send you the application to fill in, as well as date when you may start."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The man replied "But I don't have a computer, neither an email."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry", said the HR manager, "If you don't have an email, that means you do not exist. And who doesn't exist, cannot have the job."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man left with no hope at all. He didn't know what to do, with only $10 in his pocket. He then decided to go to the supermarket and buy a 10Kg tomato crate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then sold the tomatoes in a door to door round. In less than two hours, he succeeded to double his capital. He repeated the Operation three times, and returned home with $60.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man realized that he can survive by this Way, and started to go everyday earlier, and return late Thus, his money doubled or tripled every day. Shortly, he bought a cart, then a truck, then he had his own fleet of delivery vehicles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 years later , the man is one of the biggest food retailers in the US.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He started to plan his family's future, and decided to have a life insurance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He called an insurance broker, and chose a protection plan. When the conversation was concluded, the broker asked him his email. The man replied, "I don't have an email".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The broker answered curiously, "You don't have an email, and yet have succeeded to build an empire. Can you imagine what you could have been if you had an email?!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man thought for a while and replied, "Yes, I'd be an office boy at Some Company!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;**********&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-3910634360172725586?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/3910634360172725586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=3910634360172725586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/3910634360172725586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/3910634360172725586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/10/give-me-your-e-mail.html' title='Give me your e-mail'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-8044154819388566503</id><published>2008-10-11T10:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T10:56:08.073-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>Worth</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Horror gripped the heart of a World War-I soldier, as he saw his lifelong friend fall in battle. The soldier asked his Lieutenant if he could go out to bring his fallen comrade back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You can go," said the Lieutenant," but don't think it will be worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your friend is probably dead and you may throw your life away."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The Lieutenant's words didn't matter, and the soldier went anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miraculously, he managed to reach his friend, hoisted him onto his shoulder and brought him back to their company's trench. The officer checked the wounded soldier, then looked kindly at his friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I told you it wouldn't be worth it," he said. "Your friend is dead and you are mortally wounded."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It was worth it, Sir," said the soldier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you mean by worth it?" responded the Lieutenant. "Your friend is dead."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes Sir," the soldier answered,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"but it was worth it because when I got to him, he was still alive and I had the satisfaction of hearing him say....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jim...I knew you'd come."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;*******&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many times in life, whether a thing is worth doing or not, really depends on how u look at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take up all your courage and do something your heart tells you to do so that you may not  regret not doing it later in your life........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;*******&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-8044154819388566503?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/8044154819388566503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=8044154819388566503' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/8044154819388566503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/8044154819388566503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/10/worth.html' title='Worth'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-7065302379186411827</id><published>2008-10-08T21:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T22:20:29.492-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>Unopened CDs</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;There was once a guy who suffered from cancer... a cancer that can't be treated. He was 18 years old and he could die anytime. All his life, he was stuck in his house being taken cared by his mother. He never went outside but he was sick of staying home and wanted to go out for once. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; So he asked his mother and she gave him permission. He walked down his block and found a lot of stores. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He passed a CD store and looked through the front door for a second as he walked. He stopped and went back to look into the store. He saw a young girl about his age and he knew it was love at first sight. He opened the door and walked in, not looking at anything else but her. He walked closer and closer until he was finally at the front desk where she sat.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;She looked up and asked "Can I help you?" She smiled and he thought it was the most beautiful smile he has ever seen before and wanted to kiss her right there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He said "Uh... Yeah... Umm... I would like to buy a CD." He picked one out and gave her money for it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Would you like me to wrap it for you?" she asked, smiling her cute smile again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He nodded and she went to the back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;She came back with the wrapped CD and gave it to him. He took it and walked out of the store. He went home and from then on, he went to that store everyday and bought a CD, and she wrapped it for him. He took the CD home and put it in his closet. He was still too shy to ask her out and he really wanted to but he couldn't. His mother found out about this and told him to just ask her.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So the next day, he took all his courage and went to the store. He bought a CD like he did everyday and once again she went to the back of the store and came back with it wrapped. He took it and when she wasn't looking, he left his phone number on the desk and ran out...  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;------------ ------&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;!!!RRRRRING! !!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The mother picked up the phone and said, "Hello?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It was the girl!!! She asked for the boy and the mother started to cry and said, "You don't know? He passed away yesterday..."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The line was quiet except for the cries of the boy's mother. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Later in the day. the mother went into the boy's room because she wanted to remember him. She thought she would start by looking at his clothes. So she opened the closet. She was face to face with piles and piles and piles of unopened CDs. She was surprised to find all those CDs and she picked one up and sat down on the bed and she started to open one. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Inside, there was a CD and as she took it out of the wrapper, out fell a piece of paper. The mother picked it up and started to read it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It said: Hi... I think U R really cute. Do u wanna go out with me? Love, Jacelyn The mother opened another CD... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Again there was a piece of paper. It said: Hi... I think U R really cute. Do u wanna go out with me? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Love, JacelynLove is... when you've had a huge fight but then decide to put aside your egos, hold hands and say, "I Love You . . . " &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; ------------ ------&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Moral of The Story&lt;/strong&gt;: If you Really Love Someone please Expressed your feeling and let them know how much you Love them,That person  might also love you in the same way as you love them Before it is too late........ ........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-7065302379186411827?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/7065302379186411827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=7065302379186411827' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7065302379186411827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7065302379186411827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/10/unopened-cds.html' title='Unopened CDs'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-7518335659808963197</id><published>2008-10-08T21:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T21:57:37.370-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>Funniest School Excuse Notes !</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;These are the top ten funniest excuse notes from parents collected &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;by schools from all over this country&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;1. Please excuse Lola for being absent. She was sick and I had her shot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;2. Jimmy has been absent yesterday because he had two teeth taken out of his face. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;3. My daughter is under a doctor's care and should not take P.E. today. Please execute  her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;4. Please excuse Jenny. She has been sick and under the doctor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;5. Sandra won't be in school a week from today. We have to attend her funeral.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;6. Please excuse Holly from Jim today. She is administrating.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;7. Kevin was absent from school yesterday because he was playing football. He was damaged in    the growing part.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;8. Amy could not come to school today because she was bothered by very close veins.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;9. Please excuse Johnny for being. It was his father's fault.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;10. Please excuse Jesse from school. He had very loose vowels.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-7518335659808963197?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/7518335659808963197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=7518335659808963197' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7518335659808963197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7518335659808963197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/10/funniest-school-excuse-notes.html' title='Funniest School Excuse Notes !'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-7491128399177781296</id><published>2008-09-15T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T05:53:57.233-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>Inflation Push Back - Must Read</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A man eats two eggs each morning for breakfast. When he goes to the Kiranastore he pays Rs. 12 a dozen. Since a dozen eggs won't last a week henormally buys two dozens at a time. One day while buying eggs he noticesthat the price has risen to Rs. 16. The next time he buys groceries, eggsare Rs. 22 a dozen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;When asked to explain the price of eggs the store owner says, 'The pricehasgone up and I have to raise my price accordingly'. This store buys 100dozeneggs a day. He checked around for a better price and all the distributorshave raised their prices. The distributors have begun to buy from the hugeegg farms. The small egg farms have been driven out of business.. The hugeegg farms sell 100,000 dozen eggs a day to distributors. With nocompetition, they can set the price as they see fit. The distributors thenhave to raise their prices to the grocery stores. And on and on and on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As the man kept buying eggs the price kept going up. He saw the big eggtrucks delivering 100 dozen eggs each day. Nothing changed there. Hecheckedout the huge egg farms and found they were selling 100,000 dozen eggs tothedistributors daily. Nothing had changed but the price of eggs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Then week before Diwali the price of eggs shot up to Rs. 40 a dozen. Againhe asked the grocery owner why and was told, 'Cakes and baking for theholiday'. The huge egg farmers know there will be a lot of baking going onand more eggs will be used. Hence, the price of eggs goes up. Expect thesame thing at Christmas and other times when family cooking, baking, etc.happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This pattern continues until the price of eggs is Rs. 60 a dozen. The man says, 'There must be something we can do about the price of eggs'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He starts talking to all the people in his town and they decide to stopbuying eggs. This didn't work because everyone needed eggs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Finally, the man suggested only buying what you need. He ate 2 eggs a day.On the way home from work he would stop at the grocery and buy two eggs.Everyone in town started buying 2 or 3 eggs a day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The grocery store owner began complaining that he had too many eggs in hiscooler. He told the distributor that he didn't need any eggs.Maybe wouldn't need any all week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The distributor had eggs piling up at his warehouse. He told the huge eggfarms that he didn't have any room for eggs would not need any for at least two weeks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;At the egg farm, the chickens just kept on laying eggs. To relieve thepressure, the huge egg farm told the distributor that they could buy theeggs at a lower price.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The distributor said, ' I don't have the room for the %$&amp;amp;^*&amp;amp;% eggs even ifthey were free'. The distributor told the grocery store owner that he wouldlower the price of the eggs if the store would start buying again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The grocery store owner said, 'I don't have room for more eggs. Thecustomers are only buying 2 or 3 eggs at a time. Now if you were to droptheprice of eggs back down to the original price, the customerswould start buying by the dozen again'. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The distributors sent that proposal to the huge egg farmers but the eggfarmers liked the price they were getting for their eggs but, thosechickensjust kept on laying. Finally, the egg farmers lowered theprice of their eggs. But only a few paisa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The customers still bought 2 or 3 eggs at a time. They said, 'when thepriceof eggs gets down to where it was before, we will start buying by thedozen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;'Slowly the price of eggs started dropping. The distributors had to slashtheir prices to make room for the eg gs coming from the egg farmers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The egg farmers cut their prices because the distributors wouldn't buy at ahigher price than they were selling eggs for.. Anyway, they had fullwarehouses and wouldn't need eggs for quite a while..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And those chickens kept on laying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Eventually, the egg farmers cut their prices because they were throwingawayeggs they couldn't sell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The distributors started buying again because the eggs were priced to wherethe stores could afford to sell them at the lower price.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And the customers starting buying by the dozen again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Now, transpose this analogy to the gasoline industry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;What if everyone only bought Rs 200.00 worth of Petrol each time theypulledto the pump? The dealer's tanks would stay semi full all the time. Thedealers wouldn't have room for the gas coming from the huge tanks. The tankfarms wouldn't have room for the petrol coming from the refining plants.Andthe refining plants wou ldn't have room for the oil being off loaded fromthe huge tankers coming from the oil fiends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Just Rs. 200.00 each time you buy gas. Don't fill up the tank of your car.You may have to stop for gas twice a week, but the price should come down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Think about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Also, don't buy anything else at the fuel station; don't give them any moreof your hard earned money than what you spend on gas, until the prices come down...'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;..just think of this concept for a while&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;............. .....please pass this concept around....reaching out tothe masses...the world.....&lt;br /&gt;Regards,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-7491128399177781296?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/7491128399177781296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=7491128399177781296' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7491128399177781296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7491128399177781296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/09/inflation-push-back-must-read.html' title='Inflation Push Back - Must Read'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-7014774463195089619</id><published>2008-09-05T01:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T01:43:58.639-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>Will Power</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;An old man lived alone in Minnesota. He wanted to spade his potato garden, but it was very hard work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His only son, who would have helped him, was in prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and mentioned his situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Son, I am feeling pretty bad because it looks like I won't be able to plant  my potato garden this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.                                                               &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, Dad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly, the old man received this telegram:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"For Heaven's sake, Dad,don't dig up the garden!! That's where I buried the GUNS!"    At  4a.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dozen FBI agents and local police officers showed up and dug up the entire garden without finding any guns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confused, the old man wrote another note to his son telling him what happened, and asked him what to do next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://funlok.com/index.php/story/will-power.html" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&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;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;********&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;Moral Of the Story&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NO MATTER WHERE YOU ARE IN THE WORLD,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IF YOU HAVE DECIDED TO DO SOMETHING DEEP FROM YOUR HEART, YOU CAN DO IT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-7014774463195089619?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/7014774463195089619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=7014774463195089619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7014774463195089619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7014774463195089619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/09/will-power.html' title='Will Power'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-4471851557378761261</id><published>2008-08-27T05:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T05:57:01.011-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>Modern Panchtantra Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&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),&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; He started praying to the River Goddess. 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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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;br /&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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him all three items, but before she could make the offer, the engineer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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 donkey! 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;&lt;strong&gt;*******&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Moral&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; :If you're not up-to-date with technology trends, it's better to keep your mouth shut and let people think you're a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-4471851557378761261?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/4471851557378761261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=4471851557378761261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/4471851557378761261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/4471851557378761261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/08/modern-panchtantra-story.html' title='Modern Panchtantra Story'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-7394583368700578956</id><published>2008-08-23T07:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T07:59:32.695-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>A Mother's Sacrifice</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;My mom only had one eye. I hated her... she was such an embarrassment. My mom ran a small shop at a flea market. 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.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;I remember that it was field day, and my mom came. I was so embarrassed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;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.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;Maybe it was because my mom hadn't punished me, but I didn't think that I had hurt her feelings very badly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;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. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;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;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&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;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&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. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;And I asked her, "Who are you? I don't know you!!!" as if I tried 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 good ness... 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. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;Then a wave of relief came upon me...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;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;She wrote:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;My son...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;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... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;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. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;I thought to myself, 'it's because he loves me.' I miss the times when you were still young around me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;I miss you so much. I love you. You mean the world to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;My world shattered!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;Then I cried for the person who lived for me... My Mother&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-7394583368700578956?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/7394583368700578956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=7394583368700578956' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7394583368700578956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/7394583368700578956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/08/mothers-sacrifice.html' title='A Mother&apos;s Sacrifice'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-6957350504998890765</id><published>2008-08-15T21:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T22:00:41.455-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>For Hard workers Only..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&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;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SON&lt;/strong&gt;: "Daddy, may I ask you a question?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DAD&lt;/strong&gt;: "Yeah sure, what is it?" replied the  man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SON&lt;/strong&gt;: "Daddy, how much do  you make an hour?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DAD&lt;/strong&gt;: "That's none of your business. Why do you ask such a thing?" the man  said angrily.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SON&lt;/strong&gt;: "I  just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an  hour?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;DAD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;: "If you must  know, I make Rs.100 an hour.""&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Oh," the little boy replied,  with his head down.Looking up, he said, "Daddy, may I  please borrow Rs.50?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The  father was furious, "If the only reason you asked that is so you can  borrow some money to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you  march yourself straight to your room and go to bed. Think about why you  are being so selfish. I work hard everyday for such this childish  behavior."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&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?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;After about an hour or so, the  man had calmed down, and started to think: Maybe there was something  he really needed to buy with that Rs.50 and he really didn't ask for  money very often. The man went to the door of the little boy's room and  opened the door.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Are you asleep, son?" He asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;No daddy, I'm awake," replied the boy."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I've  been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier," said the  man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"It's been a  long day and I took out my aggravation on you. Here's the Rs.50 you  asked for." The little boy sat straight up, smiling. "Oh, thank  you daddy!" He yelled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Then, reaching under his pillow he pulled out some crumpled up bills. The man, seeing that the boy already had money, started to get angry  again. The little boy slowly counted out his money, and then looked up  at his father."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Why do you want more money if you already have some?" the father  grumbled."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Because I didn't have enough, but now I do," the little boy  replied."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Daddy, I have Rs.100 now. Can I buy an hour of your time? Please come home early tomorrow. I would like to have  dinner with you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Share this story with someone you like....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But even better, share Rs.100 worth of time with someone you love. 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&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-6957350504998890765?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/6957350504998890765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=6957350504998890765' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/6957350504998890765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/6957350504998890765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/08/for-hard-workers-only.html' title='For Hard workers Only..'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-5028679777568410937</id><published>2008-08-15T21:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T21:49:46.832-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>Leather bound Bible</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A young man was getting ready to graduate from college. For many months he had admired a beautiful  sports car in a dealer's showroom, and knowing his  father could well afford it, he told him that was all he wanted. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As Graduation Day approached, the young man awaited signs that his father had purchased the car.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Finally, on the morning of his graduation, his father called him into his private study. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His father told him how proud he was to have such a fine son, and told him how much he loved him. He handed his son a beautiful wrapped gift box. Curious, but somewhat Disappointed, the young man opened the box and found a lovely, leather-bound Bible, with the young man's name embossed in gold. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Angrily, he raised his voice to his father and said, "With all  your money you give me a Bible? and stormed out of the house, leaving the Bible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Many years passed and the young man was very  successful in business. He had a beautiful home and  wonderful family, but realized his father was very old, and thought perhaps he should go to him. He had not seen him since that graduation day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Before he could make arrangements, he received a telegram  telling him his father had passed away, and willed  all of his possessions to his son. He needed to come  home immediately and take care of things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;When he arrived at his father's house, sudden sadness and regret filled his heart. He began to search through his father's important papers and saw the still new Bible, just as he had left it years  ago. With tears, he opened the Bible and began to turn the pages. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;His father had carefully underlined a verse, Matt 7:11, "And if ye, 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 he read those words, a car key dropped from the back of the Bible. It had a tag  with the dealer's name, the same dealer who had the  sports car he had desired. On the tag was the date  of his graduation, and the words...PAID IN FULL.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;*******&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;How many times do we miss God's blessings because  they are not packaged as we expected? I trust you enjoyed this. Pass it on to others. 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;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&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; THEY USUALLY LEAD YOU TO ATTACHMENTS!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-5028679777568410937?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/5028679777568410937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=5028679777568410937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/5028679777568410937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/5028679777568410937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/08/leather-bound-bible.html' title='Leather bound Bible'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-3844436924211396971</id><published>2008-08-12T21:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T21:44:37.274-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>The Richest Man In The Valley</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A rich landowner named Carl often rode around his vast estate so he could congratulate himself on his great wealth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;One day while riding around his estate on his favorite horse, he saw Hans, an old tenant farmer. Hans was sitting under a tree when Carl rode by.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hans said, 'I was just thanking God for my food.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;'Carl protested, 'If that is all I had to eat, I wouldn't feel like giving thanks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;'Hans replied, 'God has given me everything I need, and I am thankful for it.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old farmer added, 'It is strange you should come by today because I had a dream last night. In my dream a voice told me, 'The richest man in the valley will die tonight.' I don't know what it means, but I thought I ought to tell you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;'Carl snorted, 'Dreams are nonsense,' and galloped away, but he could not forget Hans' words: 'The richest man in the valley will die tonight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;'He was obviously the richest man in the valley, so he invited his doctor to his house that evening.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Carl told the doctor what Hans had said. After a thorough examination, the doctor told the wealthy landowner, 'Carl, you are as strong and healthy as a horse. There is no way you are going to die tonight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;'Nevertheless, for assurance, the doctor stayed with Carl, and they played cards through the night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The doctor left the next morning and Carl apologized for becoming so upset over the old man's dream.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;At about nine o'clock, a messenger arrived at Carl's door.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;'What is it?' Carl demanded.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The messenger explained, 'It's about old Hans. He died last night in his sleep.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*******&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Being rich has nothing to do with money or possessions. But it has everything to do with having a relationship with God.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-3844436924211396971?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/3844436924211396971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=3844436924211396971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/3844436924211396971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/3844436924211396971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/08/richest-man-in-valley.html' title='The Richest Man In The Valley'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-2262810481499828308</id><published>2008-08-12T21:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T21:26:45.024-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>A Nice Story about Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I once had a friend who grew to be very close to me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once when we were sitting at the edge of a swimming pool, she filled the palm of her hand with some water and held it before me, and said this: "You see this water carefully contained on my hand? It symbolizes Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This was how I saw it: As long as you keep your hand caringly open and allow it to remain there, it will always be there. However, if you attempt to close your fingers round it and try to posses it, it will spill through the first cracks it finds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the greatest mistake that people do when they meet love...they try to posses it, they demand, they expect... and just like the water spilling out of your hand, love will retrieve from you .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For love is meant to be free, you cannot change its nature. If there are people you love, allow them to be free beings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Give and don't expect.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Advise, but don't order.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ask, but never demand&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It might sound simple, but it is a lesson that may take a lifetime to truly practice. It is the secret to true love. To truly practice it, you must sincerely feel no expectations from those who you love, and yet an unconditional caring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Passing thought... Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take; but by the moments that take our breath away.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is beautiful!!!  Live it !!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-2262810481499828308?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/2262810481499828308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=2262810481499828308' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/2262810481499828308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/2262810481499828308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/08/nice-story-about-love.html' title='A Nice Story about Love'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-2996655001693490671</id><published>2008-08-12T03:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T03:45:55.752-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>Love In Maths</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My Dear Friends,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Yesterday, I was passing by your rectangular house in trigonometric lane. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;There I saw you with our cute circular face,conical nose and spherical eyes, standing in your triangular garden. Before seeing you my heart was a null set, but when a vector of magnitude (likeness) from your eyes at a deviation of theta radians made a tangent to my heart, it differentiated.&lt;br /&gt;My love for you is a quadratic equation with real roots, which only you can solve by making good binary relation with me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The cosine of my love for you extends to infinity. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I promise that I should not resolve you into partial functions but if I do so, you can integrate me by applying the limits from zero to infinity. You are as essential to me as an element to a set. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The geometry of my life revolves around your acute personality. My love, if you do not meet me at parabola restaurant on date 10 at sunset, when the sun is making an angle of 160 degrees, my heart would be like a solved polynomial of degree 10. With love from your higher order derivatives of maxima and minima, of an unknown function.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Truly Yours&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-2996655001693490671?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/2996655001693490671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=2996655001693490671' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/2996655001693490671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/2996655001693490671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/08/love-in-maths.html' title='Love In Maths'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-5471962719710146330</id><published>2008-08-12T02:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T02:44:57.609-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>Visualise Your Goal</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The Catalina  Island is twenty-one miles away from the coast of California, and many people have taken the challenge to  swim across it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;On July 4th 1952, Florence Chadwick stepped into the water off Catalina  Island  to swim across to the California  coast. She started well and on course, but later fatigue set in, and the weather  became cold.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;She persisted, but fifteen hours later, numb and cold, she  asked to be taken out of the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;After she recovered, she was told  that she had been pulled out only half a mile away from the coast. She commented  that she could have made it, if the fog had not affected her vision and she  would have just seen the land. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;She promised that this would be the only time  that she would ever quit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;She went back to her rigorous training. And two  months later she swam that same channel. The same thing happened. The fatigue  set in, and the fog obscured her view, but this time she swam with faith and vision of the land in her mind. She knew that somewhere behind the fog was land.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;She succeeded and became the first woman to swim the Catalina  Channel. She  even broke the men's record by two hours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;SUCCESS  PRINCIPLES&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;When you set your goal, keep pressing on even when you are  tired, physically and mentally, and even though there are many challenges ahead.  Keep the vision of your goal crystal clear before you and never, never, never…  give up!See the reaching, commit to it, and you will surely see your goal  realized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-5471962719710146330?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/5471962719710146330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=5471962719710146330' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/5471962719710146330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/5471962719710146330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/08/visualise-your-goal.html' title='Visualise Your Goal'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955756744755820282.post-6962438166284699954</id><published>2008-08-12T02:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T02:45:31.262-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>A Red Rose</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A man stopped at a flower shop to order some flowers to be wired to his mother who lived two hundred miles away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&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;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&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.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As they were leaving he offered the girl a ride home. She said, "Yes, please! You can take me to my mother." She directed him to a cemetery, where she placed the rose on a freshly dug grave.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The man returned to the flower shop, canceled the wire order, picked up a bouquet and drove the two hundred miles to his mother's house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;******&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Moral:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Don't Send Artificial Loves to your parents. Give them the respect and courtesy they desire. They are your most precious Treasure, Care for them. God Forbid, if they leave this world then one can do nothing but regret.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955756744755820282-6962438166284699954?l=gavkar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/feeds/6962438166284699954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955756744755820282&amp;postID=6962438166284699954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/6962438166284699954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955756744755820282/posts/default/6962438166284699954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gavkar.blogspot.com/2008/08/red-rose.html' title='A Red Rose'/><author><name>ARUN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08025093382248198454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
