A man climbs to the top of Mt. Sinai and gets close enough to talk to God.
Looking up, he asks the Lord, “God, what does a million years mean to you?”
The Lord replies, “A minute.”
The man then asks, “And what does a million dollars mean to you?”
The Lord replies, “A penny.”
He perks up and asks,”So, can I have a penny?”
“In a minute…”
Source…www.ba-bamail.com
Natarajan
Jim needs a job, and has no qualms about inventing the necessary qualifications.
He reasons that once he finds work, he will impress the boss so much that everything will be forgiven.
After a successful initial interview at the Encyclopedia of American History, he is called back to meet the sales manager.
“You say you have experience selling books?”
“Lots of it,” replies Jim.
“And you have a Master’s in American history from the University of Michigan?”
“Correct,” replies Jim. “History is my field of study.”
“Well then,” says the sales manager, “As soon as I can complete this form, we can get you started in the firm.”
While the sales manager is making a few notations, Jim, obviously pleased with himself, begins to whistle. Looking around the room, he notices pictures of Washington and Lincoln on the walls.
Pointing to the portraits, he turns to the sales manager and says, “Fine looking men. Your partners?”
Source….www.ba-ba mail.com
Natarajan
Respected Sir/ Madam,
Many years ago I was invited for a wedding in New Delhi. As soon as invitation card came itself Mrs. Mathrubootham began jumping up and down like Nadia Comăneci. Stupid woman, you drank my Old Spice or what, I said. We go to one thousand weddings every year, what you are acting as if first time we are going for function.
Of course sir/ madam, you know what she said immediately. Exactly. You shut up, old man. First of all it is in Delhi. Which means there will be some change from the usual functions like appalam breaking, Kashi going, turmeric application etcetera. Some music and mono-act will be there. And second of all for the first time somebody rich is inviting us for a posh wedding. What and all will take place who knows. If you want you sit quietly in one corner Mr. Mathrubotham, let me enjoy, she said.
Ok fine Kamalam, but if dancing is there only solo and group dance allowed. Duet dance totally prohibited, have some shame you have grandchildren who are about to start Brilliant Tutorials.
The wedding invitation was from one old neighbour when we used to live in our old flat in Chromepet. In those days he used to have one small electrical shop with bulb and ceiling fans and mixie items. And then he went to Delhi and just five years later became multi-millionaire industrial magnate. Am I jealous? Never, not even one second.
Whether he can sleep peacefully at night after doing all criminal activities and black market and tax chicanery? Never never thousand times never. As for myself I sleep with 100% peace of mind of honest citizen. Once I got on a Coimbatore bus and woke up in Palakkad Bus Depot because of too much peaceful sleep. This is why I am always suspicious of people who wake up exactly on time in the morning. Something is fishy.
Sir/ madam I am telling you this story about posh Delhi wedding because of what happened earlier today. After having breakfast, I proceeded to the living room to relax with a Robert Ludlum novel and a cup of tea. Suddenly my son came into the room and peace of mind went out of the room at the same time. Appa have you seen the news? I said my dear son due to the blessings of many generations of god-fearing ancestors in the Mathrubootham family so far today I have not had the misfortune of watching any TV news channel. Immediately the unemployed scoundrel switched on the TV and said look appa what do you see on the TV?
It looks like a car. Ok, very good, but where is the car? I looked at the TV carefully. I don’t know, I said, but why is a statue driving the car? He said appa, the car is in space, one robot is sitting in the driver seat, it is historic achievement by some American millionaire.
Sir/ madam, excuse me just one second but I fail to understand. How did doing stupid things like this become some kind of achievement of all mankind? Some rich fellow somewhere will spend money in some stupid way and people all around the world are celebrating as if he has discovered zero-calorie rose milk recipe. Car is going around Mars it seems. Please tell me if it is doing even a single millimetre of benefit to a single person on this earth?
Immediately I was reminded of wedding in Delhi. After two or three days of non-stop breakfast and lunch and dinner, on the final day we went to one stadium type place for reception. After some time I asked Mrs. Mathrubootham, hello where is bride and groom, I want to quickly give blessings and go back to hotel. She made some enquiries and came back. Mr. Mathrubootham, she said, are you ready for the greatest excitement? Bride and groom are arriving in a helicopter in one hour. Isn’t it amazing?
I said why is it amazing? Anybody can hire a helicopter. What is there? She said, old man, for you nothing is exciting, at least these people have some imagination. What nonsense, I said. For real achievement maybe bride and groom should run 10 kilometre and come to the reception. Or give free food to 1000 poor people. That is achievement.
Sir/madam, when did spending money like an idiot become some Guinness Book of World Records type achievement? Am I jealous of all these rich people? No chance. To be frank I am jealous of only one thing, the robot in the car. He is enjoying himself far away from all these fools. Lucky chap.
Yours in exasperation,
J. Mathrubootham
Source….www.thehindu.com
Natarajan
A fire started on some grasslands near a farm.
The county fire department was called to put out the fire.
The fire was more than the county fire department could handle.
Someone suggested that a nearby volunteer bunch be called.
Despite some doubt that the volunteer outfit would be of any assistance, the call was made.
The volunteers arrived in a dilapidated old fire truck.
They rumbled straight towards the fire, drove right into the middle of the flames and stopped!
The firemen jumped off the truck and frantically started spraying water in all directions.
Soon they had snuffed out the center of the fire, breaking the blaze into two easily-controlled parts.
Watching all this, the farmer was so impressed with the volunteer fire department’s work and was so grateful that his farm had been spared, that right there on the spot he presented the volunteers with a check for $1,000. A local news reporter asked the volunteer fire captain what the department planned to do with the funds.
“That ought to be obvious,” he responded, wiping ashes off his coat. “The first thing we’re gonna do is get the brakes fixed on our fire truck!”
Source …. http://www.ba-ba mail.com
Natarajan
This guy was on the side of the road hitchhiking on a very dark night in the middle of a storm. The night was roiling and no car went by.
The storm was so strong he could hardly see a few feet ahead of him. Suddenly, he saw a car coming towards him and stop.
The guy, without thinking about it, got in the car and closed the door – and only then realized that there’s nobody behind the wheel!
The car starts very slowly. The guy looks at the road and sees a curve coming his way. Scared, he starts to pray, begging for his life.
He hasn’t come out of shock when, just before the car hits the curve, a hand appears through the window and moves the wheel.
The guy, paralyzed in terror, watched how the hand appears every time they are approaching a curve.
Gathering strength, he gets out of the car and runs all the way to the nearest town. Wet and in shock, he goes into a bar, asks for two shots of tequila, and starts telling everybody about the horrible experience he just went through.
A silence enveloped everybody when they realize the guy was crying, but wasn’t drunk.
About half an hour later two guys walked in the same bar and one said to the other: “Look, Pepe, that’s the asshole that got in the car while we were pushing it!”
Source…..www.ba-ba mail.com
Natarajan
One day a college professor of Psychology was greeting his new college class.
He stood up in front of the class and said, “Would everyone who thinks he or she is stupid please stand up?”
After a minute or so of silence, a young man stood up.
Well, good morning. So, you actually think you’re a moron?” the professor asked.
The kid replied, “No sir, I just didn’t want to see you standing there all by yourself.”
Source….www.ba-ba mail.com
Natarajan
Joe grew up in Jamaica, then moved away to attend college and law school.
He decided to come back to Jamaica because he felt he could be a Big Shot at home. He really wanted to impress everyone. So he returned and opened his new law office in New Kingston.
The first day, he saw a man coming up the passageway. He decided to make a big impression on this potential client when he arrived.
As the man came to the door Joe picked up the phone. He motioned the man in, all the while talking.
No. Absolutely not. You tell those clowns in New York that I won’t settle this case for less than one million. Yes, the Appeals Court has agreed to hear that case next week. I’ll be handling the primary argument and the other members of my team will provide support. Okay, tell the DA that I’ll meet with him next week to discuss the details.”
The “conversation” went on for almost five minutes. All the while the man sat patiently as Joe rattled off instructions.
Finally, Joe put down the phone and turned to the man, “I’m sorry for the delay but as you can see, I’m very busy. What can I do for you?”
The man replied, “I’m from Cable & Wireless, the telephone company, I come to hook up your phone.”
Source….www.ba-ba mail.com
Natarajan
I went to Kolkata with an upset tummy and returned with an upset husband. He had been very cheerful while we boarded the flight and the plane began to taxi. The air hostess started her routine, giving seat belt instructions and survival tips if the plane decided to take a dip into the ocean. My husband took a dip into his book when I asked him, “Where’s your briefcase?” I just remembered it wasn’t part of the hand luggage we had shoved into the overhead compartment.
He answered airily, “We checked it in,” and returned to his reading when what I said next made him forget his book for a long time. And that was some achievement. “We didn’t,” I persisted. “It was your carry-on baggage. Remember you left it unlocked because it would be with you?”
He turned ashen, clapped a hand to his mouth and jerked forward, straining his fastened seat belt and crashing back into his seat. “Oh no! I’ve left it behind! Where?” As he tried to figure that out, the plane accelerated and took off leaving his briefcase behind in Kolkata. “At the security check!” My husband exclaimed, looking aghast as he recalled his memory lapse.
He had forgotten to take it after the security check, having been pleased to collect his sling bag into which he had deposited his wallet, phone, pens and a notebook with a spiral spine, all guaranteed to beep if on his person. In fact, at the security check on our way to Kolkata, his pocket had behaved so much like an impromptu orchestra that on the return he had hit upon the idea of emptying his pockets into his shoulder bag before it was screened and, cock-a-hoop with its success, had completely forgotten his briefcase.
“What next?,” I asked. “No point informing the crew; no plane is going back for a briefcase unless it contained state secrets. And what’s in it?”
We racked our brains to recall the contents. Luckily my husband had emptied the case to accommodate the last minute shopping of the previous evening. So it didn’t have any important documents or cards. But it contained new silk saris, dress material, T shirts and a few knick knacks.
“So if we don’t recover it, we only lose these,” said my husband, looking relieved. “The saris!,” I cried in anguish.
During the flight we discussed the next course of action. I believed we would recover the case since my husband had chosen the best place in the airport to leave something behind – at the security check. Then I recalled that any abandoned piece of baggage is viewed with suspicion. “What if they immerse the case in water? Or something else?,” I was alarmed. “The saris!,” I cried out again. “They’ll be ruined.”
“Can you think only of saris?,” my husband snapped. The tension was getting to him. “One of them is your gift to me, that’s why,” I said and that mollified him.
We had more than five hours in Chennai before boarding the flight to Thiruvananthapuram. Earlier we had wondered how we would spend the time, but my husband’s ingenious briefcase plot took care of that. We explored the length and breadth of the airport putting in a few kilometres of brisk walking-cum hops, skips and jumps before learning what to do.
The airport manager, seeing my husband’s anxious face, reassured him, “Don’t look so worried, sir, you’ll get it back. Such things happen all the time.”
“‘Really?” Now my husband beamed, grateful he didn’t hold exclusive copyright for losing baggage.
The Lost and Found Department at Kolkata airport whom we called were close-lipped about the whereabouts of the briefcase but gave instructions on the procedure to follow in Thiruvananthapuram.
Once home, we revived our letter-writing skills what with the never-ending letters and e-mails we had to send to various addresses, describing the briefcase and its contents, all with scanned copies of the boarding pass and ID proof attached.
We also had endless calls to make and everyone wanted details. I was most relieved we had decent items inside the case and lauded my husband’s uncanny foresight that had made him remove his innerwear from it.
Lost and found
After many twists and turns in the plot in the next few days that would have done Jeffrey Archer proud, the briefcase, decorated all over with the Lost Property number, returned home. Bringing it in, my husband declared he wouldn’t leave the corporation limits again. Ignoring his loaded statement, I asked anxiously, “Are the saris intact?”
A fortnightly column by the city-based writer, academic and author of the Butterfingers series. She can be contacted at khyrubutter@yahoo.com
Source….Khyrunnisa . A
Natarajan
Six retired Floridians were playing poker in the condo clubhouse when Meyerwitz loses $500 on a single hand, clutches his chest, and drops dead at the table. Showing respect for their fallen comrade, the other five continue playing standing up.
Finkelstein looks around and asks, “So, who’s gonna tell his wife?” They cut cards. Goldberg picks the two of clubs and has to carry the news. They tell him to be discreet, be gentle, don’t make a bad situation any worse.
“Discreet? I’m the most discreet person you’ll ever meet. Discretion is my middle name. Leave it to me.”
Goldberg goes over to the dead man’s apartment and knocks on the door. His wife answers through the door and asks what he wants? Goldberg declares: “Your husband just lost $500 in a Poker game and is afraid to come home.
“Tell him to drop dead!” yells the wife.
“No problem – I’ll let him know,” says Goldberg.
Source….www.ba-ba mail.com
Natarajan
Take off with Natarajan 