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Monday, April 20, 2009

Coffee Break 4 - relax


Who am I?
You find me in life, you find me in death.
I exist in your health and wealth
I am also in the middle of poverty
But alas! I can’t solve it, what a pity!
Though in nature, I come last
I rise to excellence very fast.
Without me, there is no love, or hate.
Why, I even conclude your fate!
Though it is me who begin the earth,
I, too, end up in grave, oh, no mirth!
And one good thing is, I start and end with ease.
Who do you think I am, answer please!


Answer : the letter e


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In reality, the peace that is worth achieving, by all means, is peace of mind.

If you want to know what regret is, just think of your past.

Boys will not be boys. They will be men!

God created man. Man created Gods.

The pen is mightier than the sword, but only when it has ink.

Life, I think, is not so miserable after all! It is worse!

He, who eats out of one’s hands, should not eat the one out.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Humour : Crring…..crring

“Crring…crring……….crring…crring!” rang out the telephone, breaking the graveyard silence of the night.

Pete moved in his bed and turned around to a new position.

“Crring…crring!”

Pete groaned, “Who the hell is phoning at this hour, the un….,” Pete stopped. He had made a vow to his mother not to curse. Mumbling, he got up reluctantly from his bed and trudged up, still dozed in his sleep, towards the telephone. Anger from being ruffled from a good night’s sleep was deep in his half-closed eyes. Reaching the table, he groped, in the partial darkness, for the telephone.
“Hello,” he croaked angrily, after he had picked up the receiver, or so he thought it was.

“Crring…crring!”

Pete was shocked. Where was that ringing coming from? Surely he was holding the receiver? He then fully opened his eyes and stared at the thing he was gripping. It was the torch!

“Crring….crring!”

Pete threw the torch on the table ( which fell with a loud bang and rolled on the table, only to fall on the concrete floor with a thunderous crash, its glass smashing away into various pieces ) and snatched up the receiver.

“Hello?” he demanded.

“Hello, good evening,” said a polite, feminine voice. It sounded as “Hello, good smashing,” to Pete’s ears at that moment.

“Good ev… well, what do you want?” Pete asked.

“Can I speak to Mr. Pitt, please?” the voice wanted to know.

“Go ahead, Pete here,” Pete introduced himself.

“Is it really Pitt?” the voice queried.

“Yes, I am Pete, as sure as you can’t see me in front of you now,” Pete replied.

“But Pitt, your voice has changed! You used to have a…..”

“Well, well,” cut in Pete impatiently, “ you didn’t ring at this hour to discuss my voice, did you?”

“No, no, of course not. But this is something important and it should be told to Pitt only.”

“And I say I am Pete.”

“But your voice….”

“My voice, my voice!” Pete really was at the climax of his temper, now. Who is this girl, after having woken him up, daring to insist that he was not Pete! “Now, look here, if you want to speak to Pete, go on. If you don’t want to speak to Pete, to whom do you want to gossip? Is it Preet, Pit or ….”

“But I want to speak to Pitt,” the girl uttered, unaffected by his rise in temper, “P for pea, I for eye, T for tea and T for ….”


“Toilet!” Pete was really furious, “I say I am Pete!”

“Well, no need to be so impolite, Pitt,” the girl said, casually, seeming convinced, “here is the message.”

“Yes?” Pete asked eagerly, like a man who had just escaped the bombing of his town.

“You are going to America, aren’t you? Well, I heard you are going to visit your sick father and I just want you to give him my deepest sympathy.”

“Hey!” Pete shouted loudly, “ I am not going to America and I am not going to visit any sick father of mine!”

“You don’t lie in front of your old niece, Dora, do you?” the girl sobbed.

“Dora? Who is Dora? I don’t know any Doras around!”

“I wonder….,” the girl at the other side muttered, “Hello, can you tell me your number, please?” she pleaded.

“Well, this is three…six…one…seven…”

“Three…six…one…seven? But I wanted two…six…one…oh, I am sorry. I’ve got the wrong number!”

Pete gulped, and before he could come out with a howl, the line was dead.

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