The Hell and the Heaven

A Holy man was having a conversation with the Lord one day and said, ’Lord, I would like to know what Heaven and Hell are like.’
The Lord led the holy man to two doors.
He opened one of the doors and the holy man looked in.
In the middle of the room was a large round table.
In the middle of the table was a large pot of stew, which smelled delicious and made the holy man’s mouth water.
The people sitting around the table were thin and sickly.
They appeared to be famished. They were holding spoons with very long handles that were strapped to their arms and each found it possible to reach into the pot of stew and take a spoonful.
But because the handle was longer than their arms, they could not get the spoons back into their mouths.
The holy man shuddered at the sight of their misery and suffering.
There was the large round table with the large pot of stew which made the holy man’s mouth water.
The Lord said, ‘You have seen Hell. They went to the next room and opened the door. It was exactly the same as the first one.
The people were equipped with the same long-handled spoons, but here the people were well nourished and plump, laughing and talking.
The holy man said, ‘I don’t understand.
‘It is simple,’ said the Lord. ‘It requires but one skill…
You see, they have learned to feed each other.
The greedy think only of themselves.’

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Three old men

A woman came out of her house and saw three old men with long white beards sitting in her front yard. She said, “I don’t think I know you but you must be hungry. Please come in and have something to eat.”

“Is your husband home?” they asked.
“No,” she said. “He’s out.
“Then we cannot come in,” they replied.

In the evening when her husband came home, she told him what had happened. “Go tell them I am home and invite them in!”

The woman went out and invited the men in.

“We do not go into a house together,” they replied.

“Why is that?’ she asked

One of the old men explained: “His name is Wealth,” he said pointing to one of his friends, and said pointing to the other, “He is Success, and I am Love.” Then he added, “Now go in and discuss with your husband which one of us you want in your home.”

The woman went in and told her husband what was said. Her husband was overjoyed. “How nice,” he said. Then let us invite Wealth Let him come in and fill our home with wealth.

His wife disagreed. “My dear, why don’t we invite Success?”

Their daughter-in-law joined in with her own suggestion: “Would it not be better to invite Love? Our home would then be filled with love!”

Her in-laws agreed. The woman went out and asked the three old men, “Which of you is Love? Please come in and be our guest.” Love got up and started walking towards the house. The other two also got up and followed him.

Surprised, the lady asked Wealth and Success: “I only invited Love; why are you coming in?”

The old men replied together: “If you had invited Wealth or Success, the other two of us would have stayed out, but since you invited Love, wherever He goes, we go with him. Wherever there is Love, there is also Wealth and Success!”

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Pay attention

1st year students of MBBS were attending their 1st anatomy class.
They all gathered around the surgery table with a real dead dog.
The Professor started class by telling two important qualities as a Doctor.
The 1st is that NEVER BE DISGUSTED FOR ANYTHING ABOUT BODY,
e.g. He inserted his finger in dog’s mouth tasted it in his own mouth.
Then he said them to do the same.
The students hesitated for several minutes.
But eventually everyone inserted their fingers in dog’s mouth & then tasted it.
When everyone finished, the Professor looked at them and said:
The most important 2nd quality is OBSERVATION, I inserted my Middle finger but tasted the Index finger.
Now learn to pay attention.

Moral:
Life is tough but it’s a lot tougher when you are not paying attention

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Aloo Gobhi

He was a new to our office.

He brought 5 slices of brown bread and Aloo Gobhi to office every day. He would heat it in the microwave and gulp them down with two cups of coffee.
We all shared food amongst each other and found his eccentric behaviour funny. In every other matter he was normal.
He ate alone and didn’t eat with us. Besides who would want to share the kind of meal he brought to office every day. We would have been the losers, not him.
He was 'normal' in every other way.
Office is office and there will be gossip behind people's back. Everyone used to comment at his back. Laugh at him or speak in an unkind way.
This continued for two years. Then he resigned one day.
It was his last day at the office. This time when he opened his tiffin box there were no bread slices. But biryani, kadai paneer and curd. This was completely unlike him.
It was this day or never. If we didn’t ask him the question that was uppermost in our mind we would all die with the mystery unsolved.
'Sir, if you dont mind, can I ask you a question?" We formed a semi-circle around him, with him at the centre.
"Yes?" He was not the least intimidated.
"Why did you just eat those 5 slices of bread and aloo gobhi everyday? For 2 years?"
He laughed. "You took a long time to ask the question. Well, every day we take the same route to office. Every day we sleep at exactly the same time. Every day of our life is no different from the previous. We do nothing with our lives. When every aspect of our lives is the same, why should the food be different? I vowed I would eat the same stuff as long as I would do the same thing day after day..."
"And this change today? What's the reason?"
"For 7 years I was trying to complete a novel I was writing. Every other distraction was welcome, because it was damn tough to work in discipline. So I took the vow. That I had to publish my book before I would get rid of those 5 slices and aloo gobhi. Yesterday the novel got accepted. I had broken my routine. Did something with my life after all."
He shared his meal with us that day. It was the tastiest lunch I ever had.
"Please do show us the copy of the novel when it appears in print," we told him as we saw him off.
It was amazing, we had a writer amidst us and we never knew anything about him.
While driving back home, I saw his point of view.
The same boring road. The same routine.
Life was precious and ticking by.
I too began to think of my passion. Photography.
I would have to do something about it.
Next day, I too brought 5 slices of bread and aloo gobhi.
I was not alone. Three more colleagues had the same menu.
We didn’t laugh when we saw the coincidence.

Source: Speaking Tree

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Stranger

A while ago, my Dad met a stranger who was new to our small town. From the beginning, Dad was fascinated with this enchanting newcomer and soon invited him to live with our family. The stranger was quickly accepted and was around from then on.
As I grew up, I never questioned his place in my family. In my young mind, he had a special niche. My parents were complementary instructors: Mom taught me good from evil, and Dad taught me to obey. But the stranger…he was our storyteller. He would keep us spellbound for hours on end with adventures, mysteries and comedies.
If I wanted to know anything about politics, history or science, he always knew the answers about the past, understood the present and even seemed able to predict the future! He took my family to the first major league ball game. He made me laugh, and he made me cry. The stranger never stopped talking, but Dad didn’t seem to mind.
Sometimes, Mom would get up quietly while the rest of us were shushing each other to listen to what he had to say, and she would go to the kitchen for peace and quiet. (I wonder now if she ever prayed for the stranger to leave.)
Dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions, but the stranger never felt obligated to honor them. Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our home… Not from our friends, any visitors or us. Our longtime visitor, however, got away with four-letter words that burned my ears and made my dad squirm and my mother blush. My Dad didn’t permit the use of alcohol. But the stranger encouraged us to try it on a regular basis. He made cigarettes look cool, cigars manly and pipes distinguished.
He talked freely (much too freely!) about sex. His comments were sometimes blatant, sometimes suggestive, and generally embarrassing.
I now know that my early concepts about relationships were influenced strongly by the stranger. Time after time, he opposed the values of my parents, yet he was seldom rebuked… And NEVER asked to leave.
More than fifty years have passed since the stranger moved in with our family. He has blended right in and is not nearly as fascinating as he was at first. Still, if you could walk into my parents’ den today, you would still find him sitting over in his corner, waiting for someone to listen to him talk and watch him draw his pictures. Categorically, he destroyed all the moral values, ethics, love, time for each other and other good qualities we had in our family…..whilst adding some unnoticeable quantity of positive stuff also, which any way we would have had even without him……
His name?…....
We just call him ‘TV.’

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