* शादी से पहले एक-दूसरे को बेवकूफ़ बना देने को लेकर पति-पत्नी संता सिंह और श्रीमती संता सिंह में बहस हो रही थी
-श्रीमती संता सिंह ने कहा, दरअसल मैं जानना चाहती थी कि तुम कितने मूर्ख हो, इसीलिए मैंने तुम से शादी की थी।
संता सिंह धीरे से बोला, लेकिन यह बात तो तुम तभी समझ सकती थीं, जब मैंने तुम्हारे सामने शादी का प्रस्ताव रखा था।
* छात्रा संता नैनी बहुत देर से अपनी बेंच पर सिर टिकाकर बैठी थी। लेडी प्रोफेसर बंता जाफ़री ने उसे देखा और उससे कहा- मैं तुम्हें बहुत देर से देख रही हूं। तुम नीचे गर्दन कर नीरा से बात बात कर रही हो और उसका भी ध्यान बांट रही हो। क्या मेरे पीरियड में तुम्हारा पढ़ने में मन नहीं लगता? संता नैनी बोली- सॉरी मैडम! लेकिन, क्या मैं नींद में बात कर रही थी ..?
* संता सिंह, पिता के रूप में मुझे गर्व है कि मेरा पुत्र मेडिकल कॉलेज में है। बंता मिंदर, अरे वाह! वहां क्या पढ़ाई कर रहा है वह? संता सिंह, वह पढ़ नहीं रहा है, वहां उसे पढ़ा जा रहा है।
* चपरासी बंता नारायण, सर, मेरी पत्नी स़ख्त बीमार है। मुझे दस दिन की छुट्टी चाहिए। अधिकारी विलोक संता ने पूछा, लेकिन अभी तुम सीट पर नहीं थे। तुम्हारी पत्नी का फोन आया था। वह तो बिल्कुल ठीक लग रही थी। संता नारायण, सर, मैं तो झूठ बोल रहा था, मगर आप भी झूठ बोलते हैं।
अधिकारी क्रोध में बोला, क्यों, वह कैसे?
संता नारायण, सर, मेरी अभी शादी ही नहीं हुई है।

It is not the strong odor of the onion that makes us cry, but the gas that the onion releases when we sever this member of the lily family.

The onion itself contains oil, which contains sulfur, an irritant to both our noses and to our eyes. Cutting an onion arouses a gas contained within the onion, propanethiol S-oxide, which then couples with the enzymes in the onion to emit a passive sulfur compound. When this upwardly mobile gas encounters the water produced by the tear ducts in our eyelids, it produces sulfuric acid.

In response to the caustic acid, our eyes automatically blink, and produce tears which irrigate the eye, and which flush out the sulfuric acid.

Another reflex to rid the eyes of a foreign substance, that of rubbing our eyes with our hands, often exacerbates the situation, because our hands are coated with the caustic, sulfuric acid producing oil from cutting the onion, which we then rub directly into our eyes.

Much to our chagrin, the only remedy for ridding the onion of its pungent, irritating oil is to boil it, not to slice it or dice it.

Why am i electriccat ?
Both electricity and cat can sleep (do not work) for 24 hours.....so am i .......its so hot these days no one does anything else other than Sleeping.....

HELLO EVERYONE THERE......... I JUST TOOK A BREAK AS THIS IS THE TIME AFTER EXAMS WHEN WE STUDENTS GET TIME TO VISIT OUR RELATIVES......... SO I WAS IN KOLKATA AT MY MASHI (AUNTY'S) PLACE FOR A FEW DAYS.......NOW I AM BACK........

Tomorrow morning," the surgeon began, "I'll open up your heart..." "You'll find Jesus there," the boy interrupted. 

The surgeon looked up, annoyed. "I'll cut your heart open," he continued, "to see how much damage has been done..." "But when you open up my heart, you'll find Jesus in there."

The surgeon looked to the parents, who sat quietly. "When I see how much damage has been done, I'll sew your heart and chest back up and I'll plan what to do next." "But you'll find Jesus in my heart. The Bible says He lives there. The hymns all say He lives there. You'll find Him in my heart."

The surgeon had had enough. "I'll tell you what I'll find in your heart. I'll find damaged muscle, low blood supply, and weakened vessels. And I'll find out if I can make you well."

"You'll find Jesus there too. He lives there." The surgeon left. The surgeon sat in his office, recording his notes from the surgery, "...damaged aorta, damaged pulmonary vein, widespread muscle degeneration. No hope for transplant, no hope for cure. Therapy: painkillers and bed rest. Prognosis:," here he paused, "DEATH within one year." He stopped the recorder, but there was more to be said. "Why?" he asked aloud. "Why did You do this? You've put him here; You've put him in this pain; and You've cursed him to an early death. Why?"

The Lord answered and said, "The boy, My lamb, was not meant for your flock for long, for he is a part of My flock, and will forever be. Here, in My flock, he will feel no pain, and will be comforted as you cannot imagine. His parents will one day join him here, and they will know peace, and My flock will continue to grow."

The surgeon's tears were hot, but his anger was hotter. "You created that boy, and You created that heart. He'll be dead in year, Why?" The Lord answered, "The boy, My lamb, shall return to My flock, for he has done his duty:

"I did not put My lamb with your flock to lose him, but to retrieve another lost lamb." The surgeon wept. The surgeon sat beside the boy's bed; the boy's parents sat across from him. The boy awoke and whispered, "Did you cut open my heart?" "Yes," said the surgeon.

 "What did you find?" asked the boy. I found Jesus there," said the surgeon.

Mother Doesn't Want a Dog

Mother doesn't want a dog. Mother says they smell, And never sit when you say sit, Or even when you yell.   When you come home late at night And there is ice and snow, You have to go back out because The dumb dog has to go. Mother doesn't want a dog. Mother says they shed, And always let the strangers in And bark at friends instead   They do disgraceful things on rugs, And track mud on the floor, And flop upon your bed at night And snore their doggy snore. Mother doesn't want a dog. She's making a mistake. Because, more than a dog, I think She will not want a snake.

       THIS IS TAKEN FROM
SUKUMAR RAY'S  ABOL TABOL


The Suitable Groom

         Heard your daughter's getting married,
                   From Posta, the news I carried.
         Gangaram, the groom you chose,
                   I wish to describe, the quality he owes.
         Now listen, listen, Hark, Hark!
                   His complexion is awfully dark.
         His facial cutting, is somewhat round,
                   Rather an owl, just to sound.
         Education? Oh, just wait!
                   Not so bright under any rate.
         Nineteen times he had to pluck,
                   Till he left for his rotten luck.
         Financial career? Poor indeed,
                   Somehow makes both ends meet.
         And his brothers who are there,
                   Rather inhuman, know you dear.
         One is stubborn, the other insane,
                   Quite a troupe of hollow men.
         Oh, I missed the other two
                   Real gems are they, not to rue.
         One was smart, but now in prison,
                   Forged bank notes, (So petty a reason!)
         The youngest one in profession grand
                   Earns five bucks from a rustic band.
         And Gangaram -- is real meek,
                   Weak, feeble, and always sick.
         But they are royal, Is that clear?
                   Tell you, they are King Kansha's heirs.
         And Shyam Lahiri of Banagram,
                   Is somehow kin to Gangaram.
         Overall the groom is not so bad,
                   Cheer up, cheer up, don't be sad.
                                                                                             
                  Translated by Ruchira Ghosh
The Bengali version is "Sat Patro"

The story goes that some time ago, a man punished his 3-year-old daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper. Money was tight and he became infuriated when the child tried to decorate a box to put under the Christmas tree. Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift to her father the next morning and said, "This is for you, Daddy."

The man was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction, but his anger flared again when he found out the box was empty. He yelled at her, stating, "Don't you know, when you give someone a present, there is supposed to be something inside? The little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and cried, "Oh, Daddy, it's not empty at all. I blew kisses into the box. They're all for you, Daddy."

The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little girl, and he begged for her forgiveness.

Only a short time later, an accident took the life of the child. It is also told that her father kept that gold box by his bed for many years and, whenever he was discouraged, he would take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there.

There was a rich merchant who had 4 wives. He loved the 4th wife the most and adorned her with rich robes and treated her to delicacies. He took great care of her and gave her nothing but the best.

He also loved the 3rd wife very much. He's very proud of her and always wanted to show off her to his friends. However, the merchant is always in great fear that she might run away with some other men.

He too, loved his 2nd wife. She is a very considerate person, always patient and in fact is the merchant's confidante. Whenever the merchant faced some problems, he always turned to his 2nd wife and she would always help him out and tide him through difficult times.

Now, the merchant's 1st wife is a very loyal partner and has made great contributions in maintaining his wealth and business as well as taking care of the household. However, the merchant did not love the first wife and although she loved him deeply, he hardly took notice of her.

One day, the merchant fell ill. Before long, he knew that he was going to die soon. He thought of his luxurious life and told himself, "Now I have 4 wives with me. But when I die, I'll be alone. How lonely I'll be!"

Thus, he asked the 4th wife, "I loved you most, endowed you with the finest clothing and showered great care over you. Now that I'm dying, will you follow me and keep me company?" "No way!" replied the 4th wife and she walked away without another word.

The answer cut like a sharp knife right into the merchant's heart. The sad merchant then asked the 3rd wife, "I have loved you so much for all my life. Now that I'm dying, will you follow me and keep me company?" "No!" replied the 3rd wife. "Life is so good over here! I'm going to remarry when you die!" The merchant's heart sank and turned cold.

He then asked the 2nd wife, "I always turned to you for help and you've always helped me out. Now I need your help again. When I die, will you follow me and keep me company?" "I'm sorry, I can't help you out this time!" replied the 2nd wife. "At the very most, I can only send you to your grave." The answer came like a bolt of thunder and the merchant was devastated.

Then a voice called out : "I'll leave with you. I'll follow you no matter where you go." The merchant looked up and there was his first wife. She was so skinny, almost like she suffered from malnutrition. Greatly grieved, the merchant said, "I should have taken much better care of you while I could have !"

Actually, we all have 4 wives in our lives

a. The 4th wife is our body. No matter how much time and effort we lavish in making it look good, it'll leave us when we die.

b. Our 3rd wife ? Our possessions, status and wealth. When we die, they all go to others.

c. The 2nd wife is our family and friends. No matter how close they had been there for us when we're alive, the furthest they can stay by us is up to the grave.

d. The 1st wife is in fact our soul, often neglected in our pursuit of material, wealth and sensual pleasure.