<?xml version="1.0" encoding="iso-8859-1"?><rss version="1.0"><channel><title>Diary of manju baxi</title><link>http://timbaktu.rediffiland.com/</link><description>Diary of manju baxi</description><language>en-us</language><item><title>SARDAR ON PICNIC</title><description><![CDATA[<P> </P><P> </P><P>Once 3 Sardars decided to go on a picnic.<BR><BR>When they got there, they realized that they had forgot the soda.<BR><BR>The youngest Sardar said he would go home &amp; get it if they wouldn't eat the snacks until he got back. <BR><BR><BR><BR>The other two agreed to wait patiently. <BR><BR><BR><BR>An hour went by, <BR><BR>Then a Day,<BR><BR>followed by a week,<BR><BR>a month, <BR><BR>finally a year...<BR><BR><BR><BR>the 2 Sardars said<BR><BR>'oh, come on, let's eat the snacks' <BR><BR>.... <BR><BR>... <BR><BR>... <BR><BR>... <BR><BR>... <BR><BR>... <BR><BR>.... <BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>.... <BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>.... <BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>.... <BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>.... <BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>.... <BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>.... <BR><BR>.... <BR><BR><BR><BR>Suddenly the Young Sardar popped up from behind a rock and said <BR><BR><BR><BR>'If you do like this, I won't go.'<BR></P>]]></description><pubDate>Thu, 04 Dec 2008 12:01:04 +0530</pubDate><link>http://timbaktu.rediffiland.com/blogs/2008/12/04/SARDAR-ON-PICNIC-1.html</link></item><item><title>sentiments.............dil se</title><description><![CDATA[<P> </P><P> </P><P> </P><P class=MsoNormal style="BACKGROUND: #e4eaf2; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><SPAN style="COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'">Pathar bana dia mujhe rone nahin diya<BR>damaan bhi tere gham ne bighone nahin diya<BR><BR>tanhaiyan tumhara pata poochhti rahe<BR>shaab bhar tumhari yaad ne sone nahin diya<BR><BR>ankhon me aakar baith gayi aansoon ki lehar<BR>palkon me is khwaab ne rone nahin diya<BR><BR>dil ko tumhare naam ke ansoon aziz the<BR>duniya ka dard dil me samane nahin diya<BR><BR>har kadam yoon uski yaad chali haath thaam ke<BR>mele me is jahan ke mujhe khone nahin diya<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p></o:p></SPAN></B></P>]]></description><pubDate>Thu, 04 Dec 2008 11:58:13 +0530</pubDate><link>http://timbaktu.rediffiland.com/blogs/2008/12/04/sentiments-dil-se-1.html</link></item><item><title>THERE IS NO TOMORROW......</title><description><![CDATA[<P align=center><STRONG><U>TOMORROW IS NOT PROMISED.............................</U></STRONG></P><P align=center><STRONG><U></U></STRONG> </P><P align=left><STRONG><FONT color=#993399>When I lost my husband it was just in a fraction of second, I was not concious for next 2 days..........and above all I was not aware that I have lost him................till date deep in my heart I have a regret that I am not able to see him, not even for last time............he left me without even saying a single word.............there were lot of things I need to tell him ................Only if I could turn back the time............................only if..............</FONT></STRONG></P><P><STRONG>If I knew it would be the last time That I'd see you fall asleep, I would tuck you in more tightly and pray the Lord, your soul to keep. If I knew it would be the last time that I see you walk out the door, I would give you a hug and kiss and call you back for one more. If I knew it would be the last time I'd hear your voice lifted up in praise, I would video tape each action and word, so I could play them back day after day.<BR>If I knew it would be the last time, I could spare an extra minute or two to stop and say "I love you," instead of assuming you would KNOW I do If I knew it would be the last time I would be there to share your day, well I'm sure you'll have so many more, so I can let just this one slip away. For surely there's always tomorrow to make up for an oversight, and we always get a second chance to make everything right.<BR><BR>There will always be another day to say our "I love you's," And certainly there's another chance to say our "Anything I can do's?" But just in case I might be wrong, and today is all I get, I'd like to say how much I love you and I hope we never forget. Tomorrow is not promised to anyone, young or old alike, And today may be the last chance you get to hold your loved one tight So if you're waiting for tomorrow, why not do it today? For if tomorrow never comes, you'll surely regret the day, That you didn't take that extra time for a smile, a hug, or a kiss and you were too busy to grant someone, what turned out to be their one last wish.<BR><BR><FONT color=#cc0000>So hold your loved ones close today, and whisper in their ear, Tell them how much you love them and that you'll always hold them dear Take time to say "I'm sorry," "Please forgive me," "Thank you," or "It's okay." And if tomorrow never comes, you'll have no regrets about today. </FONT></STRONG></P><br><img src="http://ri.rediffiland.com/homepimages/home1/465/582ab2103015b7026e5c2da6296c82da/homep/images/1228294023">]]></description><pubDate>Wed, 03 Dec 2008 14:08:03 +0530</pubDate><link>http://timbaktu.rediffiland.com/blogs/2008/12/03/THERE-IS-NO-TOMORROW.html</link></item><item><title>VERY LOVELY STORY ON IMPROVEMENT</title><description><![CDATA[<P> </P><P> </P><P> </P><P align=center><FONT size=4><FONT color=#000066><STRONG>It is easier to criticize, but difficult to improve</STRONG> </FONT></FONT></P><FONT color=#000066 size=4><DIV align=center><HR style="COLOR: #96c9fe" SIZE=1></DIV></FONT><DIV><FONT color=blue>Once upon a time there was a painter who had just completed his course under the disciple hood of a great painter. This young artist decided to assess his skills, so he decided to give his best strokes on the canvass. He took 3 days and painted beautiful scenery.</FONT><BR><BR><FONT color=blue>Suddenly an idea flashed in his mind and he put his creation at a busy street-crossing. And just down below a board which read-"Gentlemen, I have painted this piece. Since I'm new to this profession I might have committed some mistakes in my strokes etc. Please put a cross wherever you see a mistake."</FONT><BR><BR><FONT color=blue>While he came back in the evening to collect his painting he was completely shattered to see that whole canvass was filled with Xs (crosses) and some people had even written their comments on the painting.</FONT><BR><BR><FONT color=blue>Disheartened and broken completely he ran to his master's place and burst into tears. Sobbing and crying inconsolably he told his</FONT><FONT color=blue>master about what happened and showed the pathetic state of his creation which was filled with marks everywhere. This young artist was breathing heavily and master heard him saying "I'm useless and if this is what I have learnt to paint I'm not worth becoming a painter. People have rejected me completely.. I feel like dying"</FONT><FONT color=blue>Master smiled and suggested "My Son, I will prove that you are a great artist and have learnt a flawless painting."</FONT><BR><FONT color=blue><FONT face=Arial><BR>Young disciple couldn't believe it and said "I have lost faith in me and I don't think I am good enough... Don't make false hopes..."</FONT></FONT><FONT color=blue>"Do as I say without questioning it.. It WILL work." Master interrupted him.</FONT><FONT face=Arial> <FONT color=blue>"Just paint exactly similar painting once again for me and give it to me. Young artist reluctantly agreed and two days later early morning he presented a replica of his earlier painting to his master. Master took that gracefully and smiled.</FONT> </FONT><FONT color=blue>"Come with </FONT><FONT color=blue>me.</FONT><FONT color=blue>" master said.</FONT><BR><FONT color=blue><FONT face=Arial><BR>They reached the same street-square early morning and displayed the same painting exactly at the same place. Now master took out another board which read -"Gentlemen, I have painted this piece. Since I'm new to this profession I might have committed some mistakes in my strokes etc. I have put a box with colors and brushes just below. Please do a favor. If you see a mistake, kindly pick up the brush and correct it."</FONT></FONT><BR><BR><FONT color=blue>Master and disciple walked back home.</FONT><BR><FONT color=blue><FONT face=Arial><BR>They both visited the place same evening. Young painter was surprised to see that actually there was not a single correction done so far. Next day again they visited and found the painting remained untouched..</FONT></FONT><BR><BR><FONT color=blue>They saw the painting was kept there for a month for no correction came in!</FONT><BR><BR><BR><FONT face=Arial><BR><FONT color=green><BR><B><U>Moral of the Story:</U></B> It is easier to criticize, but difficult to improve<BR><BR>If you want to help people improve their behavior it is worth investing your effort in learning how help people change their behaviors, attitudes and skills.</FONT> <BR></DIV></FONT>]]></description><pubDate>Wed, 03 Dec 2008 12:23:50 +0530</pubDate><link>http://timbaktu.rediffiland.com/blogs/2008/12/03/VERY-LOVELY-STORY-ON-IMPROVEMENT-1.html</link></item><item><title>THE STORY BEHIND ORKUT</title><description><![CDATA[<P> </P><P> </P><P> </P><P align=center><FONT size=4><FONT color=#ff0000><STRONG>The story behind ORKUT!!!</STRONG> </FONT></FONT></P><HR style="COLOR: #96c9fe" SIZE=1><DIV id=post_message_571530><A href="http://group.topmasala.com/2006/11/story-behind-orkut.html" target=_blank rel=nofollow><FONT size=6><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B>The Story.... </B></FONT></FONT></FONT></A><BR><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B>A guy lost his girlfriend in a train accident.... </B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><BR>but the gal's name nowhere appeared in the dead list. This guy </B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><BR>grew up n became IT technical architect in his late 20?s, achievement in itself!!. <BR><BR>He hired developers from the whole globe and plan to make a </B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><BR>software where he could search for his gf through the web..</B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><BR>Things went as planned... </B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><BR>n he found her, after losing millions of dollars and 3 long years!! </B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B>It was time to shut down the search operation, when the CEO of Google had a </B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><BR>word with this guy n took over this application, </B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B>This Software made a whopping 1 billion dollars profit in its first year, </B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><BR>which we today know as ORKUT . </B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><BR><BR><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><A href="http://group.topmasala.com/2006/11/story-behind-orkut.html" target=_blank rel=nofollow><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon>The guy's name is ORKUT BUYUKKOTEN . Yes its named after him only. Today he </FONT></FONT></A></B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><A href="http://group.topmasala.com/2006/11/story-behind-orkut.html" target=_blank rel=nofollow><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><BR>is paid a hefty sum by Google for the things we do like scrapping. He is </FONT></FONT></A></B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><A href="http://group.topmasala.com/2006/11/story-behind-orkut.html" target=_blank rel=nofollow><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><BR>expected to b the richest person by 2009. <BR><BR>ORKUT BUYUKKOTEN today has 13 assistants to monitor his scrapbook &amp; 8 to </FONT></FONT></A></B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><A href="http://group.topmasala.com/2006/11/story-behind-orkut.html" target=_blank rel=nofollow><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><BR>monitor his friends-list. He gets around 20,000 friend-requests a day &amp; </FONT></FONT></A></B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><A href="http://group.topmasala.com/2006/11/story-behind-orkut.html" target=_blank rel=nofollow><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon>about 85,000 scraps!!! </FONT></FONT></A></B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><BR><B><U><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=5><FONT color=navy><FONT color=navy><B><A href="http://group.topmasala.com/2006/11/story-behind-orkut.html" target=_blank rel=nofollow>Some other Cool Facts about this guy: <FONT color=red><FONT color=red><BR></FONT></FONT></A></B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></U></B><BR><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=purple><FONT color=purple><A href="http://group.topmasala.com/2006/11/story-behind-orkut.html" target=_blank rel=nofollow><FONT color=purple><FONT color=purple>*</FONT></FONT><B><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B>He gets $12 from Google when every person registers to this website. </B></FONT></FONT></B></A></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><A href="http://group.topmasala.com/2006/11/story-behind-orkut.html" target=_blank rel=nofollow><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><BR></FONT></FONT><FONT size=5><FONT color=purple><FONT color=purple>*</FONT></FONT></FONT><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon>He also gets $10 when you add somebody as a friend. </FONT></FONT></A></B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><A href="http://group.topmasala.com/2006/11/story-behind-orkut.html" target=_blank rel=nofollow><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><BR></FONT></FONT><FONT color=purple><FONT color=purple>* </FONT></FONT><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon>He gets $8 when your friend's friend adds you as a friend &amp; gets $6 if </FONT></FONT></A></B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><A href="http://group.topmasala.com/2006/11/story-behind-orkut.html" target=_blank rel=nofollow><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><BR>anybody adds you as friend in the resulting chain. <BR><BR></FONT></FONT><FONT color=purple><FONT color=purple>*</FONT></FONT><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon> He gets $5 when you scrap somebody &amp; $4 when somebody scraps you. </FONT></FONT></A></B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><A href="http://group.topmasala.com/2006/11/story-behind-orkut.html" target=_blank rel=nofollow><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><BR></FONT></FONT><FONT color=purple><FONT color=purple>*</FONT></FONT><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon> He also gets $200 for each photograph you upload on Orkut. </FONT></FONT></A></B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><A href="http://group.topmasala.com/2006/11/story-behind-orkut.html" target=_blank rel=nofollow><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><BR></FONT></FONT><FONT color=purple><FONT color=purple>*</FONT></FONT><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon> He gets $2.5 when you add your friend in the crush-list or in the hot-list. <BR><BR></FONT></FONT><FONT color=purple><FONT color=purple>*</FONT></FONT><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon> He gets $2 when you become somebody's fan. </FONT></FONT></A></B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><A href="http://group.topmasala.com/2006/11/story-behind-orkut.html" target=_blank rel=nofollow><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><BR></FONT></FONT><FONT color=purple><FONT color=purple>* </FONT></FONT><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon>He gets $1.5 when somebody else becomes your fan. </FONT></FONT></A></B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><A href="http://group.topmasala.com/2006/11/story-behind-orkut.html" target=_blank rel=nofollow><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><BR></FONT></FONT><FONT color=purple><FONT color=purple>* </FONT></FONT><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon>He even gets $1 every time you logout of Orkut. </FONT></FONT></A></B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><A href="http://group.topmasala.com/2006/11/story-behind-orkut.html" target=_blank rel=nofollow><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><BR></FONT></FONT><FONT color=purple><FONT color=purple>*</FONT></FONT><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon> He gets $0.5 every time you just change your profile-photograph. </FONT></FONT></A></B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><A href="http://group.topmasala.com/2006/11/story-behind-orkut.html" target=_blank rel=nofollow><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><BR></FONT></FONT><FONT color=purple><FONT color=purple>*</FONT></FONT><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon> He also gets $0.5 every time you read your friend's scrap-book &amp; $0.5 every time </FONT></FONT></A></B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><A href="http://group.topmasala.com/2006/11/story-behind-orkut.html" target=_blank rel=nofollow><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon>you view your friend's friend-list. </FONT></FONT></A></B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><A href="http://group.topmasala.com/2006/11/story-behind-orkut.html" target=_blank rel=nofollow><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><BR></FONT></FONT></A></B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><A href="http://group.topmasala.com/2006/11/story-behind-orkut.html" target=_blank rel=nofollow><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon>"Moral of the story"? </FONT></FONT></A></B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B><BR><B><FONT face=Calibri><FONT size=4><FONT color=maroon><FONT color=maroon><B><A href="http://group.topmasala.com/2006/11/story-behind-orkut.html" target=_blank rel=nofollow><FONT color=red><FONT color=red>LOSE U R GIRLFRIEND AND MAKE BILLIONS !!!! </FONT></FONT></A></B></FONT></FONT></FONT></FONT></B></DIV><DIV>__________________<BR><FONT face="Palatino Linotype"><FONT size=3><FONT color=blue>--------</FONT></FONT></FONT><BR></DIV>]]></description><pubDate>Wed, 03 Dec 2008 11:23:35 +0530</pubDate><link>http://timbaktu.rediffiland.com/blogs/2008/12/03/THE-STORY-BEHIND-ORKUT-1.html</link></item><item><title>WHAT GOD CAN DO WITH 57 CENTS</title><description><![CDATA[<P> </P><P> </P><P> </P><P class=MsoNormal style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; TEXT-ALIGN: center" align=center><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><SPAN style="COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">A sobbing little girl stood near a small church from which she had<BR>been turned away because it was "too crowded."<BR>"I can't go to Sunday School," she sobbed to the pastor as he walked by.<BR>Seeing her shabby, unkempt appearance, the pastor guessed the reason and, taking her by the hand, took her inside and found a place for her in the Sunday school class. The child was so happy that they found room for her, and she went to bed that night thinking of the children who have no place to worship Jesus.<BR>Some two years later, this child lay dead in one of the poor tenement buildings. Her parents called for the kindhearted pastor who had befriended their daughter to handle the final arrangements.<BR>As her poor little body was being moved, a worn and crumpled red purse was found which seemed to have been rummaged from some trash dump.<BR>Inside was found 57 cents and a note, scribbled in childish handwriting, which read: "This is to help build the little church bigger so more children can go to Sunday School."<BR>For two years she had saved for this offering of love.<BR>When the pastor tearfully read that note, he knew instantly what he would do. Carrying this note and the cracked, red pocketbook to the pulpit, he told the story of her unselfish love and devotion.<BR>He challenged his deacons to get busy and raise enough money for the larger building.<BR>But the story does not end there...<BR>A newspaper learned of the story and published it. It was read by a wealthy realtor who offered them a parcel of land worth many thousands.<BR>When told that the church could not pay so much, he offered to sell it to the little church for 57 cents.<BR>Church members made large donations. Checks came from far and wide.<BR>Within five years the little girl's gift had increased to $250,000.00--a huge sum for that time (near the turn of the century). Her unselfish love had paid large dividends.<BR>When you are! in the city of </SPAN></B><?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /><st1:City><st1:place><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><SPAN style="COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">Philadelphia</SPAN></B></st1:place></st1:City><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><SPAN style="COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">, look up </SPAN></B><st1:place><st1:PlaceType><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><SPAN style="COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">Temple</SPAN></B></st1:PlaceType><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><SPAN style="COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial"> </SPAN></B><st1:PlaceName><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><SPAN style="COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">Baptist</SPAN></B></st1:PlaceName><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><SPAN style="COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial"> </SPAN></B><st1:PlaceType><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><SPAN style="COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">Church</SPAN></B></st1:PlaceType></st1:place><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><SPAN style="COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">, with a seating capacity of 3,300. And be sure to visit </SPAN></B><st1:place><st1:PlaceType><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><SPAN style="COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">Temple</SPAN></B></st1:PlaceType><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><SPAN style="COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial"> </SPAN></B><st1:PlaceType><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><SPAN style="COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">University</SPAN></B></st1:PlaceType></st1:place><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><SPAN style="COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">, where thousands of students are educated.<BR>Have a look, too, at the </SPAN></B><st1:place><st1:PlaceName><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><SPAN style="COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">Good</SPAN></B></st1:PlaceName><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><SPAN style="COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial"> </SPAN></B><st1:PlaceName><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><SPAN style="COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">Samaritan</SPAN></B></st1:PlaceName><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><SPAN style="COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial"> </SPAN></B><st1:PlaceType><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><SPAN style="COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">Hospital</SPAN></B></st1:PlaceType></st1:place><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><SPAN style="COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial"> and at a Sunday School building which houses hundreds of beautiful children, built so that no child in the area will ever need to be left outside during Sunday School time.<BR>In one of the rooms of this building may be seen the picture of the sweet face of the little girl whose 57 cents, so sacrificially saved, made such remarkable history. Alongside of it is a portrait of her kind pastor, Dr. Russel H. Conwell, author of the book,<BR>"Acres of Diamonds"<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p></o:p></SPAN></B></P>]]></description><pubDate>Tue, 02 Dec 2008 15:10:14 +0530</pubDate><link>http://timbaktu.rediffiland.com/blogs/2008/12/02/WHAT-GOD-CAN-DO-WITH-57-CENTS-1.html</link></item><item><title>PEARLS ...........a short story</title><description><![CDATA[<P> </P><P> </P><P align=center><STRONG><U>Why It Is So Hard To Let Go</U></STRONG></P><P>The cheerful girl with bouncy golden curls was almost five. Waiting with her mother at the checkout stand, she saw them: a circle of glistening white pearls in a pink foil box. </P><P>"Oh please, Mommy. Can I have them? Please, Mommy, please?" Quickly the mother checked the back of the little foil box and then looked back into the pleading blue eyes of her little girl's upturned face. "A dollar ninety-five. That's almost $2.00. If you really want them, I'll think of some extra chores for you and in no time you can save enough money to buy them for yourself. Your birthday's only a week away and you might get another crisp dollar bill from Grandma." </P><P>As soon as Jenny got home, she emptied her penny bank and counted out 17 pennies. After dinner, she did more than her share of chores and she went to the neighbor and asked Mrs. McJames if she could pick dandelions for ten cents.</P><P>On her birthday, Grandma did give her another new dollar bill and at last she had enough money to buy the necklace.</P><P>Jenny loved her pearls. They made her feel dressed up and grown up. She wore them everywhere - Sunday school, kindergarten, even to bed. The only time she took them off was when she went swimming or had a bubble bath. Mother said if they got wet, they might turn her neck green. </P><P>Jenny had a very loving daddy and every night when she was ready for bed, he would stop whatever he was doing and come upstairs to read her a story. One night when he finished the story, he asked Jenny, "Do you love me?" "Oh yes, Daddy. You know that I love you." "Then give me your pearls." "Oh, Daddy, not my pearls. But you can have Princess - the white horse from my collection. The one with the pink tail. Remember, Daddy? The one you gave me. She's my favorite." "That's okay, Honey. Daddy loves you. Good night." And he brushed her cheek with a kiss.</P><P>About a week later, after the story time, Jenny's daddy asked again, "Do you love me?" "Daddy, you know I love you." "Then give me your pearls." "Oh Daddy, not my pearls. But you can have my baby doll. The brand new one I got for my birthday. She is so beautiful and you can have the yellow blanket that matches her sleeper." "That's okay. Sleep well. God bless you, little one. Daddy loves you" And as always, he brushed her cheek with a gentle kiss. </P><P>A few nights later when her daddy came in, Jenny was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed Indian-style. As he came close, he noticed her chin was trembling and one silent tear rolled down her cheek. "What is it, Jenny? What's the matter?" Jenny didn't say anything but lifted her little hand up to her daddy. And when she opened it, there was her little pearl necklace. With a little quiver, she finally said, "Here, Daddy. It's for you."</P><P>With tears gathering in his own eyes, Jenny's kind daddy reached out with one hand to take the dime-store necklace, and with the other hand he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue velvet case with a strand of genuine pearls and gave them to Jenny. He had them all the time. He was just waiting for her to give up the dime-store stuff so he could give her genuine treasure. </P><P>So it is with our Heavenly Father. He is waiting for us to give up the cheap things in our lives so that he can give us beautiful treasure. Isn't God good?</P><P><STRONG><U>Are you holding onto things which God wants you to let go of. Are you holding on to harmful or unnecessary partners, relationships, habits and activities which you have come so attached to that it seems impossible to let go? Sometimes it is so hard to see what is in the other hand but do believe this one thing.............</U></STRONG></P><P><STRONG><U>God will never take away something without giving you something better in ....return......</U></STRONG></P>]]></description><pubDate>Tue, 02 Dec 2008 14:23:15 +0530</pubDate><link>http://timbaktu.rediffiland.com/blogs/2008/12/02/PEARLS-a-short-story-1.html</link></item><item><title>PARENTS AND TREE</title><description><![CDATA[<P> </P><P> </P><P><FONT color=#000000 size=4>A long time ago, there was a huge apple tree. A little boy loved to come and play around it everyday. He climbed the tree top, ate the apples, and took a nap under the shadow... He loved the tree and the tree loved to play with him. Time went by... the little boy had grown up and he no longer played around the tree everyday. </FONT></P><P><FONT color=#000000 size=4>One day, the boy came back to the tree and he looked sad." </FONT></P><P><FONT color=#000000 size=4>Come and play with me," the tree asked the boy." I am no longer a kid; I don't play around trees anymore." The boy replied, "I want toys. I need money to buy them." </FONT></P><P><FONT color=#000000 size=4>The tree said, "Sorry, but I don't have money... but you can pick all my apples and sell them. So, you will have money." The boy was so excited. He grabbed all the apples on the tree and left happily. The boy never came back after he picked the apples. The tree was sad. </FONT></P><P><FONT color=#000000 size=4>One day, the boy returned and the tree was so excited." </FONT></P><P><FONT color=#000000 size=4>Come and play with me," the tree said. The boy said, "I don't have time to play. I have to work for my family. We need a house for shelter. Can you help me?" "Sorry, but I don't have a house. But you can chop off my branches to build your house." So the boy cut all the branches of the tree and left happily.</FONT></P><P><FONT color=#000000 size=4>The tree was glad to see him happy but the boy never came back since then. The tree was again lonely and sad. </FONT></P><P><FONT color=#000000 size=4>One hot summer day, the boy returned and the tree was delighted." Come and play with me!" the tree said. </FONT></P><P><FONT color=#000000 size=4>"I am sad and getting old. I want to go sailing to relax myself. Can you give me a boat?" said the boy. "Use my truck to build your boat. You can sail far away and be <BR>happy." So the boy cut the tree truck to make a boat. He went sailing and never showed up for a long time. </FONT></P><P><FONT color=#000000 size=4>Finally, the boy returned after he left for so many years. "Sorry, my boy, but I don't have anything for you anymore. No more apples for you... "The tree said." I don't have teeth to bite" the boy replied. "No more truck for you to climb on"</FONT></P><P><FONT color=#000000 size=4>"I am too old for that now" the boy said. "I really can't give you anything ... the only thing left is my dying roots" the tree said with tears. "I don't need much now, just a place to <BR>rest. I am tired after all these years." The boy replied. </FONT></P><P><FONT color=#000000 size=4>"Good! Old tree roots are the best place to lean on and rest. Come, Come sit down with me and rest." The boy sat down and the tree was glad and smiled with tears... </FONT></P><P align=left><FONT color=#0000ff size=4>This is a story of everyone. You may think the boy <BR>is cruel to the tree but that's how all of us are treating our parent. </FONT></P><P align=left><FONT color=#0000ff size=4>When we were </FONT><FONT color=#0000ff size=4>young, we loved to play with Mom and Dad... When we grew up, we left them... only came to them when we needed something or when we were in trouble. No matter what, parents will always be there and give everything they could to make you happy. </FONT></P><P><FONT color=#0000ff size=4>Remember Parents give children their ALL, all children can give them in turn is LOVE. </FONT></P><P><FONT color=#0000ff size=4>Tell your parents how thankful you are<FONT color=#ffffff> <FONT color=#0000ff>and you love them</FONT>.</FONT></FONT><FONT color=#ffffff><BR></FONT></P>]]></description><pubDate>Tue, 02 Dec 2008 13:40:20 +0530</pubDate><link>http://timbaktu.rediffiland.com/blogs/2008/12/02/PARENTS-AND-TREE-1.html</link></item><item><title>short story on ego</title><description><![CDATA[<P> </P><P> </P><DIV align=center><U><FONT face="Book Antiqua"><FONT size=4>EGO..KILLS U </FONT></FONT><BR><BR></U><FONT size=4><FONT face="Book Antiqua">There was once a learned scientist.. </FONT></FONT><BR><BR><FONT face="Book Antiqua"><FONT size=4>After a lot of practice and efforts, he developed a formula and learned the art of reproducing himself. He did it so perfectly that it was impossible to tell the reproduction from the original. </FONT></FONT><BR><BR><FONT face="Book Antiqua"><FONT size=4>One day while doing his research, he realized that the Angel of Death was searching for him. In order to remain immortal he reproduced a dozen copies of himself. The reproduction was so meticulous that all of them looked exactly like him. Now when this Angel of Death came down, he was at a loss to know which of the thirteen before him was the original scientist, and confused, he left them all alone and returned back to heaven. </FONT></FONT><BR><BR><FONT face="Book Antiqua"><FONT size=4>But, not for long, for being an expert in human nature, the Angel came up with a clever idea. He said to the scientist addressing all thirteen of them, "Sir, you must be a genius to have succeeded in making such perfect reproduction formula of yourself. However, I have discovered a flaw in your work, just one tiny little flaw." </FONT></FONT><BR><BR><FONT face="Book Antiqua"><FONT size=4>The scientist immediately jumped out and shouted, Impossible! where is the flaw?" "Right here" said the Angel, as he picked up the scientist from among the reproductions and carried him off. </FONT></FONT><BR><BR><FONT face="Book Antiqua"><FONT size=4>The whole purpose of the scientist and his formula of reproduction failed as he could not control his pride and lost his life. </FONT></FONT><BR><BR><FONT face="Book Antiqua"><FONT size=4>So while one's Knowledge and Skills takes one to the top of the ladder and makes one successful, however the three letter word "EGO" can pull one down immediately. </FONT></FONT><BR><BR><FONT face="Book Antiqua"><FONT size=4>Let go one's Ego. </FONT></FONT></DIV>]]></description><pubDate>Tue, 02 Dec 2008 13:33:28 +0530</pubDate><link>http://timbaktu.rediffiland.com/blogs/2008/12/02/short-story-on-ego-1.html</link></item><item><title>Understand love before  U lose sumone..........</title><description><![CDATA[<P> </P><P align=center><FONT color=#990000><STRONG><U>EXPRESS YOUR LOVE IN TIME..............</U></STRONG></FONT></P><P><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">Apparently, they are there to file a divorce.Lawyer was very puzzled, <BR>after having a chat with them, he got their story....<BR><BR><BR><BR>This couple had been quarreling all their 40 over yrs of marriage nothing </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">ever seems to go right.They hang on because of their children, afraid that</FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">it might affect their up-bringing. Now, all their children have already grown up, </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">have their own family, there's nothing else the old couple have to worry about, </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">all they wanted is to lead their own life free from all these years of unhappiness </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">from their marriage, so both agree on a divorce....<BR><BR><BR><BR>Lawyer was having a hard time trying to get the papers done, </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">because he felt that after 40 yrs of marriage at the age of 70,</FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">he couldn't understand why the old couple would still want a divorce..<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>While they were signing the papers, the wife told the husband..<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>"I really love u, but I really cant carry on anymore, I'm sorry.."<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>"Its o.k, I understand.." said the husband. Lookin at this, the lawyer </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">suggested a dinner together, just 3 of them,wife thought, </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">why not, since they are still gonna be friends..<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>At the dining table, there was a silence of awkardness.<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>The first dish was roasted chicken, immediately, the old man took the drumstick </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">for the old lady.."take this, its your favourite.."<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>Looking at this, the lawyer thought maybe theres still a chance, but the wife </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">was frowning when she answer.."This is always the problem, you always think </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">so highly of yourself, never thought about how I feel, </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">don't you know that I hate drumsticks?"<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>Little did she know that, over the years, the husband have been trying </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">all ways to please her, little did she know that drumsticks was the husband's </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">favourite. Little did he know that she never thought he understand her at all, </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">little did he know that she hates drummsticks even though all he wants is the best for her.<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>That night, both of them couldn't sleep, toss and turn, toss and turn...after hours, </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">the old man couldn't take it anymore, he knows that he still loves her, </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">and he cant carry on life without her, he wants her back, he wants to tell her, </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">he is sorry, he wanted to tell her "I love you"...<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>He picks up the phone, starting dialing her number....ringing never stops..he never stop dialing....</FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">On the other side, she was sad, she couldn't understand how come after all these years, </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">he still doesn't understand her at all, she loves him a lot, but she just cant take it anymore....</FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">phone's ringing, she refuses to answer knowing that its him...</FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">"whats the point of talking now that its over...I have ask for it and now </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">I wanna keep it this way, if not I will lose face.."she thought...still ringing...</FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">she have decided to pull out the cord... Little did she remember, </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">he have heart problems...<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>The next day, she received news that he had passed away...</FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">she rushed down to his apartment, saw his body, lying on the couch still holding on to the phone...</FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">he had a heart attack when he was still trying to get through her phone line....<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>As sad as she could be...she will have to clear his belongings.. .when she was looking </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">thru the drawers, she saw this insurance policy, dated from the day they got married, </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">with the beneficiary being her... And together in those file, there was this note...<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>"To my dearest wife, by the time you're reading this, I'm sure I'm no longer around, </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">I bought this policy for you, though the amount is only $100k, I hope it will be able </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">to help me continue my promise that I have made when we got married, I might not </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">be around anymore, I want this amount of money to continue taking care of you, </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">just like the way I will if I could have live longer. I want you to know Iwill always be around, </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">by your side... I love you"<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>Tears flowed like river......<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>"When you love someone, let them know... You never know what will happen the next minute.... </FONT><BR><FONT face="Comic Sans MS">Learn to build a life together.. Learn to love each other. For who they are.. Not what they are..."</FONT><BR><BR></P>]]></description><pubDate>Mon, 01 Dec 2008 16:02:41 +0530</pubDate><link>http://timbaktu.rediffiland.com/blogs/2008/12/01/Understand-love-before-U-lose-sumone.html</link></item></channel></rss>