Saturday, July 30, 2005




A hare and a tortoise live in Kerala
They are good friends and like all good friends , sometimes have a dig at each other.

One day , in a light mood the hare ridiculed the tortoise for his slow pace. The tortoise reacted by challenging the hare for a race between "Angamali" and "Ernakulam" (places in Kerala). On the appointed day and time the two assemble at the starting line and start the race. The hare dashes off the start line like a flash. After crossing the midway mark, he feels that a short nap would do no harm. The short nap turned out to be a bit too long. Meanwhile the tortoise crosses the hare and reaches the destination. The hare wakes from the slumber,oblivious of the time, and dashes off towards the finish. To his dismay he finds the tortoise having a nap at the finish line.
The moral of the story is "Slow and steady wins the race."

The story does not end here.....
The hare goes home and soon understands that complacency and overconfidence were the reasons of his defeat. He vows not to repeat the mistake again. He then invites the tortoise for another race. The tortoise agrees to his friend's request.They meet at the appointed day and time at the starting point. The race starts. This time the hare dashes off to the finishing line without taking a break and wins the race comfortably.
The moral of the story is "Fast and consistent will always beat the slow and steady. "

If you have two people in your organisation, one slow, methodical and reliable, and the other fast and still reliable at what he does, the fast and reliable chap will consistently climb the organisational ladder faster than the slow, methodical chap. It's good to be slow and steady; but it's better to be fast and reliable.

The story does not end here.....
The tortoise goes home and thinks hard. He was aware that the hare cannot be defeated in speed. He then ponders over his core competence. At last he finds a solution and invites the hare to another race. This time the course is changed. It is from "Angamaly" to "Perumbavoor." The hare agrees. At the appointed day and time the two meet at the start line and the race begins. The hare dashes off like a flash. Soon he arrives at the banks of river "Periyar" and is overwhelmed by a sense of dejection as he did not know how to swim. The tortoise comes to the bank , looks at the hare with sympathy and coolly gets into the water. He swims to the other side goes to "Perumbavoor" and comes back.
The moral of the story is "Core competence wins the race."

In an organisation, if you are a good speaker, make sure you create opportunities to give presentations that enable the senior management to notice you. If your strength is analysis, make sure you do some sort of research, make a report and send it upstairs. Working to your strengths will not only get you noticed but will also create opportunities for growth and advancement.

Both the friends decide it was enough of racing against each other. Why not think hard and find a way by which they together could travel from "Angamali" to "Perumbavoor" at the minimum possible time. At the end of a brain storming session they come out with a solution and decide to try out the next morning. At the appointed time they meet at the starting line. The tortoise sits on the back of the hare. The hare dashes off form "Angamali" to the banks of "Periyar". There the hare gets on the back of the tortoise and the tortoise swiftly crosses the river. On reaching the other side the tortoise again sits on the back of the hare. The hare runs as fast as he can to "Perumbavoor". Thus they both reach "Perumbavoor" in the fastest possible time.
The moral of the story is "Innovation and team work wins the race"

It's good to be individually brilliant and to have strong core competencies; but unless you're able to work in a team and harness each other's core competencies, you'll always perform below par because there will always be situations at which you'll do poorly and someone else does well. Teamwork is mainly about situational leadership, letting the person with the relevant core competency for a situation take leadership

There are more lessons to be learnt from this story. ....
Note that neither the hare nor the tortoise gave up after failures. The hare decided to work harder and put in more effort after his failure. The tortoise changed his strategy because he was already working as hard as hecould. In life, when faced with failure, sometimes it is appropriate to work harder and putin more effort. Sometimes it is appropriate to change strategy and try something different. And sometimes it is appropriate to do both.

The hare and the tortoise also learnt another vital lesson. When we stop competing against a rival and instead start competing against the situation, we perform far better.

To sum up, the story of the hare and tortoise teaches us many things. ....
Chief among them are :
That fast and consistent will always beat slow and steady; work to your competencies; pooling resources and working as a team will always beat individual performers; never give up when faced with failure; and finally, compete against the situation. Not against a rival.

In Short, BE STRATEGIC!

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

adipoli dialouge from the movie Maza Peyyunu Madhallam Kottunnu ..

its realy fun :) ... especialy the english by mohanlal and jagathy

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

Peacefully
You are a peaceful sleeper. You recognize that
sleep is a necessary part of life, and
understand that there is no way for you to
fully appreciate everything around you if you
dont give yourself a break once in a while.
You are a very calm and collected person who
seems to have all of their ducks in a row, so
to speak. You enjoy life without getting
over-enthusiastic and appreciate harmony in all
things.


How do you Sleep? (Anime Pics)
brought to you by Quizilla
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I think the result i got from the quiz is correct .....am a peaceful sleeper. :D

Sunday, July 24, 2005

1) Project Manager is a Person who thinks Nine women can deliver a baby in One month.

2) Developer is a Person who thinks it will take 18 months to deliver a baby.

3) Onsite Coordinator is one who thinks single woman can deliver nine babies in one month.

4) Client is the one who doesn't know why he wants a baby.

5) Marketing Manager is a person who thinks he can deliver a baby even if no man and woman are available.

6) Resource Optimization Team thinks they don't need a man or woman; they'll produce a child with zero resources.

7) Documentation Team thinks they don't care whether the child is delivered, they'll just document 9 months.

8) Quality Auditor is the person who is never happy with the PROCESS to produce a baby.


Thursday, July 21, 2005

One day a father of a very wealthy family took his son on a trip to the country with the firm purpose of showing his son how poor people live. They spent a couple of days and nights on the farm of what would be considered a very poor family.

On their return from their trip, the father asked his son,
"How was thetrip?"
"It was great, Dad."
"Did you see how poor people live?" the father asked.
"Oh yeah," said the son.
"So, tell me, what did you learn from the trip?" asked the father.

The son answered: "I saw that we have one dog and they had four. We have a pool that reaches to the middle of our garden and they have a creek that has no end. We have imported lanterns in our garden and they have the stars at night. Our patio reaches to the front yard and they have the whole horizon. We have a small piece of land to live on and they have fields that go beyond our sight. We have servants who serve us, but they serve others. We buy our food, but they grow theirs. We have walls around our property to protect us, they have friends to protect them."

The boy's father was speechless.

Then his son added, "Thanks, Dad, for showing me how poor we are."

Isn't perspective a wonderful thing? Makes you wonder what would happen if we all gave thanks for everything we have, instead of worrying about what we don't have.

Sunday, July 17, 2005

17-year-old Brian Moore had o­nly a short time to write something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. "I wowed 'em," he later told his father, Bruce. "It's a killer. It's the bomb. It's the best thing I ever wrote." It also was the last.

Brian's parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin found it while cleaning out the teenager's locker at TearyValleyHigh School. Brian had been dead o­nly hours, but his parents desperately wanted every piece of his life near them-notes from classmates and teachers, his homework. Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay about encountering Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every moment of the teen's life. But it was o­nly after Brian's death that Beth and Bruce Moore realized that their son had described his view of heaven.

"It makes such an impact that people want to share it. You feel like you are there." Mr. Moore said. Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend's house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Roadin PickawayCountyand struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped o­n a downed power line and was electrocuted. The Mooresframed a copy of Brian's essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room. "I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it, " Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son's vision of life after death. "I'm happy for Brian. I know he's in heaven. I know I'll see him.

Brian's Essay: The Room... In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the o­ne wall covered with small index card files. They were like the o­nes in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was o­ne that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written o­n each o­ne. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.

This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named "Friends" was next to o­ne marked "Friends I have betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed at." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've yelled at my brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature. When I pulled out the file marked "TV Shows I have watched", I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented. When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out o­nly an inch, not willing to test its size and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke o­n me. o­ne thought dominated my mind: No o­ne must ever see these cards! No o­ne must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!"

In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at o­ne end and began pounding it o­n the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, o­nly to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it. Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it.. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled o­n its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained o­n o­ne hand. And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell o­n my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No o­ne must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.

But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every o­ne? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me. Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at o­ne end of the room, He took out a file and, o­ne by o­ne, began to sign His name over mine o­n each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be o­n these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand o­n my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock o­n its door. There were still cards to be written.

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."-Phil. 4:13" For God so loved the world that He gave His o­nly son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life." If you feel the same way mention this to as many people as you can so the love of Jesus will touch their lives also. My "People I shared the gospel with" file just got bigger, how about yours?

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

ആരാണു ?
മാലാഖ
എന്തിനു വന്നു ?
എഴുത്തിനു വന്നു
എന്ത്‌ എഴുത്ത്‌?
തലയിലെഴുത്തു
ഏന്തു തല?
മൊട്ടത്തല
ഏന്തു മൊട്ട?
കോഴിമൊട്ട
എന്തു കൊഴി ?
പൂവന്‍ കൊഴി
എന്തു പൂ?
കാട്ടു പൂ
എന്തു കാട്‌?
പട്ടി കാട്‌
എന്തു പട്ടി ?
പേ പട്ടി
എന്തു പേ ?
പെപെരപേ.................................

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