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That is the worthwhile lesson of the importance of being steady & decisive, of being content with reality! A lot of worldly wisdom worth its weight in gold. Remember the proverbs, "a bird in hand is better than two in the bush"?, "the grass is greener on the other side"? :D
ONE FOR THE HR DEPT!!!!!
One day while walking down the street a highly successful Human Resources Manager was tragically hit by a bus and she died. Her soul arrived up in heaven where she was met at the Pearly Gates by St.Peter himself.
"Welcome to Heaven," said St. Peter. "Before you get settled in
though, it seems we have a problem. You see, strangely enough, we've never once had a Human Resources Manager make it this far and we're not really sure what to do with you."
"No problem, just let me in," said the woman.
"Well, I'd like to, but I have higher orders. What we're going to
do is let you have a day in Hell and a day in Heaven and then you
can choose whichever one you want to spend an eternity in."
"Actually, I think I've made up my mind, I prefer to stay in
Heaven", said the woman
"Sorry, we have rules..."
And with that St. Peter put the executive in an elevator and it
went down-down-down to hell.
The doors opened and she found herself stepping out onto the
putting green of a beautiful golf course. In the distance was a country club and standing in front of her were all her friends - fellow
executives that she had worked with and they were well dressed in
evening gowns and cheering for her. They ran up and kissed her on
both cheeks and they talked about old times.
They played an excellent round of golf and at night went to the country club where she enjoyed an excellent steak and lobster dinner.
She met the Devil who was actually a really nice guy (kind of
cute) and she had a great time telling jokes and dancing. She was
having such a good time that before she knew it, it was time to leave.
Everybody shook her hand and waved goodbye as she got on the
elevator. The elevator went up-up-up and opened back up at the Pearly Gates and found St. Peter waiting for her.
"Now it's time to spend a day in heaven," he said. So she spent
the next 24 hours lounging around on clouds and playing the harp and singing. She had great time and before she knew it her 24 hours were up and St. Peter came and got her.
"So, you've spent a day in hell and you've spent a day in heaven.
Now you must choose your eternity,"The woman paused for a second and then replied, "Well, I never thought I'd say this, I mean, Heaven has been really great and all, but I think I had a better time in Hell."
So St. Peter escorted her to the elevator and again she went down-down-down back to Hell. When the doors of the elevator opened she found herself standing in a desolate wasteland covered in garbage and filth. She saw her friends were dressed in rags and were picking up the garbage and putting it in sacks.
The Devil came up to her and put his arm around her.
"I don't understand," stammered the woman, "yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and a country club and we ate lobster and we danced and had a great time. Now all there is a wasteland of garbage and all my friends look miserable."
The Devil looked at her, smiled and told...
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"Yesterday we were recruiting you, today you're an Employee"
this is extremely shocking!
just key in your name and country and all details about you will be revealed!
http://www.scrolllock.nl/passport/
NOV, I am sure yours was very much accurate! :evil:
Phew.............I first felt my hear beating really fast until I saw it for wat it really was.....! :roll:Quote:
Originally Posted by NOV
:poke: (This is the closest emoticon i could find to the yahoo pbhttt)Quote:
Originally Posted by NOV
For I min there I thought I was going to be a victim of identity theft!!
Jesse's Silkworm Story
When Jesse was a little girl of six she kept silkworms. Once she noticed one struggling hard to get through a smallhole in the cocoon. Jesse became very worried about the small creature's capacity to emerge, so she took a pair of scissors and cut open the cocoon. Then to her horror, she noticed that the moth was deformed when it emerged. It had a swollen stomach and twisted wings - very different to the other moths, and unable to fly.
She carried this picture of the moth's struggle into her adult life until one day when she watched a program on moths and butterflies on television. Jesse, now in her 60s, discovered that all moths need to push hard and struggle when emerging from their cocoons to enable the blood from their bellies to pump into their wings and give them the strength to fly.
Jesse finally had the insights that nature had given her :
"Our struggles and efforts 'when things get tough' strengthen us and support our growth and development into beautiful perfection" and
"If we 'rescue' others when they are facing tough situations we intercept their development and growth"
Memorial To A Harvard Boy
The President of Harvard made a mistake by prejudging people, and it cost him dearly.
A lady in a faded gingham dress and her husband, dressed in a homespun threadbare suit, stepped off the train in Boston, and walked timidly without an appointment into the president's outer office. The secretary could tell in a moment that such backwoods, country hicks had no business at Harvard and probably didn't even deserve to be in Cambridge.
She frowned. "We want to see the president", the man said softly. "He'll be busy all day," the secretary snapped. "We'll wait," the lady replied.
For hours, the secretary ignored them, hoping that the couple would finally become discouraged and go away. They didn't. And the secretary grew frustrated and finally decided to disturb the president, even though it was a chore she always regretted to do. "Maybe if they just see you for a few minutes, they'll leave," she told him. And he sighed in exasperation and nodded. Someone of his importance obviously didn't have the time to spend with them, but he detested gingham dresses and homespun suits cluttering up his outer office. The president, stern-faced with dignity, strutted toward the couple.
The lady told him, "We had a son that attended Harvard for one year. He loved Harvard. He was happy here. But about a year ago, he was accidentally killed. And my husband and I would like to erect a memorial to him, somewhere on campus". The president wasn't touched -- he was shocked.
"Madam," he said, gruffly, "We can't put up a statue for every person who attended Harvard and died. If we did, this place would look like a cemetery".
"Oh, no," the lady explained quickly, "We don't want to erect a statue. We thought we would like to give a building to Harvard.
The president rolled his eyes. He glanced at the gingham dress and homespun suit, then exclaimed, "A building! Do you have any earthly idea how much a building costs? We have over seven and a half million dollars in the physical plant at Harvard!"
For a moment the lady was silent.
The president was pleased. He could get rid of them now.
And the lady turned to her husband and said quietly, "Is that all it costs to start a University? Why don't we just start our own?" Her husband nodded. The president's face wilted in confusion and bewilderment.
And Mr. and Mrs. Leland Stanford walked away, traveling to Palo Alto, California where they established the University that bears their name, a memorial to a son that Harvard no longer cared about.
True Love
John Blanchard stood up from the bench, straightened his Army uniform, and studied the crowd of people making their way through Grand Central Station. He looked for the girl whose heart he knew, but whose face he didn't, the girl with the rose. His interest in her had begun thirteen months before in a Florida library. Taking a book off the shelf he found himself intrigued, not with the words of the book, but with the notes penciled in the margin. The soft handwriting reflected a thoughtful soul and insightful mind. In the front of the book, he discovered the previous owner's name, Miss Hollis Maynell.
With time and effort he located her address. She lived in New York City. He wrote her a letter introducing himself and inviting her to correspond.
The next day he was shipped overseas for service in World War II. During the next year and one-month the two grew to know each other through the mail. Each letter was a seed falling on a fertile heart. A Romance was budding. Blanchard requested a photograph, but she refused. She felt that if he really cared, it wouldn't matter what she looked like. When the day finally came for him to return from Europe, they scheduled their first meeting - 7:00 pm at the Grand Central Station in New York. "You'll recognize me," she wrote, "by the red rose I'll be wearing on my lapel."
So at 7:00 he was in the station looking for a girl whose heart he loved, but whose face he'd never seen.
I'll let Mr. Blanchard tell you what happened:
A young woman was coming toward me, her figure long and slim. Her blonde hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears; her eyes were blue as flowers. Her lips and chin had a gentle firmness, and in her pale green suit she was like springtime come alive. I started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was not wearing a rose. As I moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips. "Going my way, sailor?" she murmured. Almost uncontrollably I made one step closer to her, and then I saw Hollis Maynell. She was standing almost directly behind the girl. A woman well past 40, she had graying hair tucked under a worn hat. She was more than plump, her thick-ankled feet thrust into low-heeled shoes.
The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away. I felt as though I was split in two, so keen was my desire to follow her, and yet so deep was my longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned me and upheld my own. And there she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and sensible, her gray eyes had a warm and kindly twinkle. I did not hesitate. My fingers gripped the small worn blue leather copy of the book that was to identify me to her. This would not be love, but it would be something precious, something perhaps even better than love, a friendship for which I had been and must ever be grateful. I squared my shoulders and soluted and held out the book to the woman, even though while I spoke I felt choked by the bitterness of my disappointment. "I'm Lieutenant John Blanchard, and you must be Miss Maynell. I am so glad you could meet me; may I take you to dinner?"
The woman's face broadened into a tolerant smile. "I don't know what this is about son," she answered, "but the young lady in the green suit who just went by, she begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said if you were to ask me out to dinner, I should go and tell you that she is waiting for you in the big restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of test?"
It's not difficult to understand and admire Miss Maynell's wisdom. The true nature of a heart is seen in its response to the unattractive. "Tell me whom you love," Houssaye wrote, "And I will tell you who you are."
Subject: Boys don't miss..
Girls are like that........cant help
He in office, receives a call
She: Hello
He: Yes
She: Enna aachu un voice kku? Yaaravadhu kazhutha nerichitaaLa?
He: Err. Who is this?
She: Enna thimira? Yen voice kooda maRandhu poacha
He: Err. Illaye. It sounds very different
She: Seri. Saaingalam seekram vandhudu. Kalayanathukku poganum
He: Koramangala dhaane. It hardly takes 10 minutes from our house
She: Suththam. Kalyanam utharahalli la
He: Huh? Naan invitation la koramangala dhaane parthen.
She: Adi vaanga pore. I am having the invitation in hand. Seekram varaati
Priya konnuduva
He: Priya yaaru?
She: Enna aachu unakku. En friend Priya kalyanathukku dhaane poarom
He: En chithappa payyan Karthik kalyanathukku dhaane poarom!!
She: Extn 2631?
He: Sorry this is 2361
She: Sorry. Bye!
(Now our He calls his She on her mobile narrates the incident and starts
laughing)
She: Sirikaadha. Thimiru pudichavane
He: What?
She: Yen voice kooda theriyaama eva koodavo ivlo neram pesi irukke!
He: Hey. Ava dhaan call pannina. What can I do?
She: Call pannina seri. Ivlo neram pesanuma? Kural kaetta udane identify
panni irukka vendaam wrong number nu? Panradhayum pannitu ippadi sirikkare.
Vekkama illai?
He: Hey. Naan busy aa irundhen. Gavanikkalai. Relax
She: Oh. Appo ayya busy aa irundha, enakkum maththa ponnungalukkum
vidhyasam
theiryadhu illa?
He: Hey!
She: Saaingalam pesikkaren un kitta. Bye!
He: kovam illai la
She: Naan kova pattu enna aagaradhu. Vakkaren ippo. Bye
(Click)
(Meanwhile the wrong number She calls her He, and narrates the incident)
He starts laughing.
She: Sirikaadha. Maanam poachu
He: He he
She: Ellam unnaala dhaan
He: What? Naan enna pannen?
She: Phone panren sonne la. You forgot. Nee mattum phone panni irundhaa
indha
madhiri aagi irukaadhu
He: Err. I was about to call you. Manager came here. Pesindu irundhena
She: Edavadhu kadhai sollu. I am feeling very bad. Cha!
He: Come on. Chinna vishayam. Sirichittu vittudanum
She: Unakku ellame chinna vishayam. Inimela naan unakku phone pannave
poradhu
illai
He: Hey hey. Please please.
She: Evening pesalaam. Seekram vaaa. Late pannadhe. Bye
He: Hey. Are you ok?
She: Not ok nnu sonna enna pannuve, ok nnu sonna pannuve!
He: Err. Ok nu sonna velai continue pannuven. Not ok sonna, innum konja
neram
pesuven
She: Appo naan not ok aa irundhaa dhaan pesuviya?
He: !!!!!!
She: Ennavo. Seri. Nee velaya paaru. I have a call now. Mudichitu naan
aathuku podiuven. Seekram vaa. Bye
He: bye! And sorry!
She: Its ok. Bye