Monday, April 30, 2007
Friday, April 27, 2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
This boy is not a beggar or playing at the street. They are serious business mans. During rain they rent their umbrella for a short distance....to walk to the car, or to the mall. When it is out on rent, they will walk in rain with the "tenant" and bring back the umbrella. And they are students who work to earn extra for the family. I am glad to see them earning the right way.....I guess they are paid like Rps1,000.00.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
A view of the sun rise across the river from the Ashram
From the linage of Adi Sangkarachariyar, the statue at the temple
For details on Garhwal see http://www.garhwaltourism.com/
Monday, April 23, 2007
The above images was scanned from a photo that I took some years back when i was back packing to some village in south India. It was the time where they transfer the baby padi to the main field (I don't remember the names...hehehe very bad in putting in words). I had the opportunity to help them and they showed me how to do the job :). It was cool for me ...but I guess it is not for them as this decides their harvest.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
My wife called, 'How long will you be with that newspaper? Will you come here and make your darling daughter eat her food?' I tossed the paper away and rushed to the scene.
My only daughter Sindu looked frightened. Tears were welling up in her eyes. In front of her was a bowl filled to its brim with Curd Rice. Sindu is a nice child, quite intelligent for her age.She has just turned eight. She particularly detested Curd Rice. My mother and my wife are orthodox, and believe firmly in the 'cooling effects' of Curd Rice!
I cleared my throat, and picked up the bowl. 'Sindu, darling,why don't you take a few mouthful of this Curd Rice?Just for Dad's sake, dear. Sindu softened a bit, and wiped her tears with the back of her hands. 'OK, Dad. I will eat - not just a few mouthfuls, but the whole lot of this. But, you should...' Sindu hesitated. 'Dad, if I eat this entire curd Rice, will you give me whatever I ask for?'....... ....Oh sure, darling'.... 'Promise? '........ ......... 'Promise'. I covered the pink soft hand extended by my daughter with mine, and clinched the deal. 'Ask Mom also to give a similar promise', my daughter insisted.My wife put her hand on Sindu's, muttering 'Promise'.
Now I became a bit anxious. 'Sindu dear, you shouldn't insist on getting a computer or any such expensive items.Dad does not have that kind of money right now. OK?' 'No, Dad. I do not want anything expensive'.Slowly and painfully, she finished eating the whole quantity. I was silently angry with my wife and my mother for forcing my child eat something that she detested.
After the ordeal was through, Sindu came to me with her eyes wide with expectation. All our attention was on her......... ....'Dad, I want to have my head shaved off, this Sunday!' was her demand. 'Atrocious!' shouted my wife, 'A girl child having her head shaved off? Impossible!' 'Never in our family!' my mother rasped.'She has been watching too much of television.
Our culture is getting totally spoiled with these TV programs!' Sindu darling, why don't you ask for something else? We will be sad seeing you with a clean-shaven head.' 'No, Dad. I do not want anything else', Sindu said with finality. 'Please, Sindu, why don't you try to understand our feelings?' I tried to plead with her.'Dad, you saw how difficult it was for me to eat that Curd Rice'. Sindu was in tears. 'And you promised to grant me whatever I ask for.Now, you are going back on your words. Was it not you who told me the story of King Harishchandra, and its moral that we should honor our promises no matter what?'
It was time for me to call the shots. 'Our promise must be kept.' 'Are you out your mind?' chorused my mother and wife. 'No. If we go back on our promises, she will never learn to honor her own. Sindu, your wish will be fulfilled.' With her head clean-shaven, Sindu had a round-face, and her eyes looked big and beautiful.On Monday morning,
I dropped her at her school. It was a sight to watch my hairless Sindu walking towards her classroom.She turned around and waved. I waved back with a smile.Just then, a boy alighted from a car, and shouted, 'Sinduja, please wait for me!' What struck me was the hairless head of that boy. 'May be, that is the in-stuff', I thought.'Sir, your daughter Sinduja is great indeed!' Without introducing herself, a lady got out of the car, and continued,' That boy who is walking along with your daughter is my son Harish.He is suffering from... ... leukemia.'
She paused to muffle her sobs. Harish could not attend the school for the whole of the last month.He lost all his hair due to the side effects of the chemotherapy. He refused to come back to school fearing the unintentional but cruel teasing of the schoolmates. 'Sinduja visited him last week, and promised him that she will take care of the teasing issue.
But, I never imagined she would sacrifice her lovely hair for the sake of my son!
Sir, you and your wife are blessed to have such a noble soul as your daughter.' I stood transfixed. And then, I wept. 'My little Angel, you are teaching me how self-less real love is!'
*The happiest people on this planet are not those who live on their own terms but are those who change their terms for the ones whom they love..*
Love Touch And Inspire others
"The life is short,
the vanities of world are transient but they alone live who live for others;
the rest are more dead than alive."
Friday, April 20, 2007
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
A man came out of his home to admire his new truck.
To his puzzlement, his three-year-old son was happily hammering dents into the shiny paint. The man ran to his son, knocked him away, hammered the little boy's hands into a pulp as punishment. When the father calmed down, he rushed his son to the hospital. Although the doctor tried desperately to save the crushed bones, he finally had to amputate the fingers from both the boy's hands.
When the boy woke up from the surgery & saw his bandaged stubs, he innocently said, "Daddy, I'm sorry about your truck." Then he asked, "But when are my fingers going to grow back?" The father went home and committed suicide. Think about the story the next time you see someone spill milk at a dinner table or hear a baby crying. Think first before you lose your patience with someone u love.
Trucks can be repaired. Broken bones & hurt feelings often can't. Too often we fail to recognize the difference between the person and the performance. People make mistakes. We are allowed to make mistakes. But the actions we take while in a rage will haunt us forever.
********Pause and ponder. Think before you act. Be patient. Understand and love. ********
Monday, April 16, 2007
The Lake View with KLCC
What is this clown doing here...
The Bamboo Plants
This red t-shirt kid was really intrested in photography and was happy when i showed him the photos...this is with his family
The laser play...