7 Kids With Record-Breaking Talents – Incredible!.
A “Must Read ” story …Hence it is being shared with you all..
Pl click the above link and read further…
natarajan
7 Kids With Record-Breaking Talents – Incredible!.
A “Must Read ” story …Hence it is being shared with you all..
Pl click the above link and read further…
natarajan
Good one…… Probably you would have already read it. Still ……..
A Budding Politician (BP) walks into ABCC Bank to cash a cheque. As he approaches the cashier he says, “Good morning Ma’am, would you please cash this cheque for me?”
Cashier: “It would be my pleasure sir. Could you please show me your ID?”
“Truthfully, I did not bring my ID with me as I didn’t think there was any need to. I am Leader of the ….. Party. Future OF India….
Cashier: “Yes sir, I know who you are, but with all the regulations and monitoring of the banks because of imposters and forgers and requirements etc., I must insist on seeing your ID.”
BP : “Just ask anyone here at the bank who I am and they will tell you. Everybody knows who I am.”
Cashier: “I am sorry sir but these are the bank rules and I must follow them.”
BP: “I am urging you, please, to cash this cheque.”
Cashier: “Look Sir here is an example of what we can do. One day, Sachin Tendulkar came into the bank without ID. To prove he was Sachin he pulled out his bat and played a beautiful shot across the bank. With that shot we knew him to be Sachin and cashed his cheque.”
“Another time, Mahesh Bhupati came in without ID. He pulled out his tennis racquet and played a fabulous shot when the tennis ball landed in my cup. With that shot we cashed his cheque.
So, sir what can you do to prove that it is you, and only you, future of India , Budding Politician?BP stands there thinking, and thinking, and finally says:
“Honestly, my mind is a total blank… There is nothing that comes to my mind. I can’t think of a single thing. I have absolutely no idea what to do; I just don’t have a clue”.Cashier: ‘Sir, 500 or 1000 rupee notes?’
SOURCE:::input from a friend of mine
natarajan

source::::glasbergen.com
natarajan

Beautifully clear and detailed image of a single snowflake, by Joshua Nowicki Photoography
Josh wrote:
So far the best photo I have taken of a snowflake . . . Jan 5, 2014 in Saint Joseph, Michigan.
The shape of snowflakes is influenced by the temperature and humidity of the atmosphere. Snowflakes form in the atmosphere when cold water droplets freeze onto dust particles. Depending on the temperature and humidity of the air where the snowflakes form, the resulting ice crystals will grow into a myriad of different shapes.
source::::earthskynews
natarajan
source::::Input from a friend of mine
natarajan
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 story teller. 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 honour them. Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our home… Not from us, our friends or any visitors. 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 liberal 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.
Their first child is “Cell Phone”.