Man in the Glass !!

Source: Unknown

" When you get what you want in your struggle for self
And the world makes you king for a day,
Just go to the mirror and look at yourself
And see what that man has to say.

For it isn’t your father or mother or wife
Whose judgment upon you must pass.
The fellow whose verdict counts most in your life
Is the one staring back from the glass.

You may be like Jack Horner and chisel a plum
And think you’re a wonderful guy.
But the man in the glass says you’re only a bum
If you can’t look him straight in the eye.

He’s the fellow to please never mind the rest,
For he’s with you clear to the end.
And you’ve passed your most dangerous, difficult test
If the man in the glass is your friend.

You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years
And get pats on the back as you pass.
But your final reward will be heartache and tears
If you’ve cheated the man in the glass...... "

Its not the end, it's the beginning..

Consider this: every time a last thought is repeated, a story comes to an end. People need clarity, and that is what stories are for. Our own lives are complicated---nothing is ever resolved and nothing is ever over. But stories end, so they can be pure. The joy is pure and the suffering is pure and even the questions that can't be answered are precise and clear.

A lost dog has finally found his family, and they're shouting his name and they hold their arms out and he jumps into them...

It is the end of the argument, and they are more in love than ever...

The criminal has been caught at last, and punishment is waiting...

Here is the baby, born finally, healthy, and the mother is sweaty but she's okay too...

These are ends, but they are also beginnings, and in life they will end and begin again and again. Every time something happens a world of possible action opens up, and possible meanings. But in fiction, every story is an end, because we are only reading the end. Its last notes are sonorous and beautiful and final. They are beautiful. They are final.

Say a marriage is tragic. Say that the people close to the couple can find no words for the things they have done. Say at every point where the body of the world touches their bodies, people have bad dreams and lose their faith and turn their eyes away from things they once trusted. Even if this is true, it doesn't matter: it isn't the end."

Tribute to all nice guys out there.....

Ode to the Nice Guys
(This rant was written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal)

This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.

This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.

The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgment, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

The link to download internet (i.e. the complete world wide web)

download internet

All U Guys.. Just Read....

Hey Guys,

I will recommend that this article must be read at least ones. Come on take out 2 mins and read it.

What not to do when you are desperate about having a girl friend !!

My target readers

• If you are a guy, age >=22 and still single....welcome to the club. Read this very seriously.
• If you are a guy, not single then reading this is not worth your time.
• If you are a girl there is nothing new here, I know most of you are omniscient.

On a random day, at a random place you come across a random girl and you get an instant feeling that she is the "one" for you. In the next few mins of talk, the inevitable question comes up "Are you on Orkut?"...Now that's the beginning. You take her email ID, flick her chat ID from Orkut and start loading her inbox with messages, forwards, funny mails, quotes etc etc., . You are always online for her and the moment you come online the question pops up on her window, "Hey hi, wass up?" You always go to places where there is a chance of seeing her. You try to run in to her and pretend that it was accidental. You wear nice dresses and try to look good on the days when there is a high probability of meeting her. After that you take her phone number and start calling her every day. For the first few days she picks up the phone, then slowly she starts giving the busy tone and the next stage is total avoidance. But, you always believe that she is interested in you or at least you don't want to accept the truth. For some of you the big day comes when you express your feelings to her and you don't even have to wait for her reply, it is generally, "I did not see you in that way, can we be just friends?". Some don't even reach that stage, they hide their feelings, but in either case one thing is common, the girl's name ends up being the password for the next few months.

As soon as they realize that they have reached the "age", guys start trying to impress girls. Some try to show-off that they are smart and some have this weird belief that girls consider stupid guys as cute. Intelligence to innocence, being introvert to extrovert, being classy to messy, strong to weak ...anything and everything, every guy has own strategy. I don't know who came up with this quote "Everything is fair in love and war", he (not she) must probably have been one of them. I don't know why guys fail to understand that girls are smart enough to understand all these and why would not they? Even before they realize that they are "girls", guys start hitting on them, one after the other, day and night, not allowing them even to breathe properly.

After reading till here some of you might be in dilemma whether you are really desperate or not. It's very easy to come to a conclusion. Take a paper and answer the following questions in Yes or No

1. Whenever you see a girl walking on the road ahead of you, Do you increase your walking speed, walk past her and then turn back to see her face?
2. Do you become very conscious about what you are talking, when you are around with girls?
3. Do you try to be cool or someone else in order to impress girls?
4. Do you think staying clam or moody when in a group makes the girl think about you?
5. You ask a girl to join you for lunch or coffee; do you think a YES from other side is an indication that she is interested in you?
6. Do you keep staring at girls?
7. Are you ready to date a girl even if she is around with someone else as well?
8. Is "Girls" the main topic of all your discussions with your friends?

If you find even a single "YES" in the paper then YOU ARE DESPERATE. Be a man, accept it Yaar.

Now the real question "What not to do when you are desperate about having a girl friend?"
Did you actually believe that I would come up with some solution or tips? Had I known it, would I be still single? It was just a trick to make you guys read this one. But, I have one tip though, first and foremost STOP being desperate. I know that it is difficult. At least try not to show that you are desperate. The rule is simple, "No one in this world cares for a thing that is easily gettable" and FYI girls are never worried about finding a guy and why do they have to? Did you ever come across a girl who never had a BF or never been proposed by a guy? If yes, then that's a miracle, you met a rare species or an extinct one in this world.

If you got the tip that you wanted and don't want to read any further it's fine. But, I would recommend reading further. Trust me, keep reading.

We know that we are the ones who make the girls realize that they are important, treat them as if they are precious, tell them that they are beautiful and show that they are in demand. We buy them gifts, spend all the money we have, do their work, roam around with them all the time, carry their stuff and in the end what do we get in return? a few thanks and an offer to be a good friend. Do we need all this? If 1/1000 th of the time wasted on a girl is spent on a guy you will find a friend for a lifetime. Just play some game together or watch a movie, give him a cigarette or buy him a drink and that is it. Realize that spending a night with your friends drinking till everyone pukes, having a hangover throughout the next day is more fun than spending the same night with your girl in a pub buying her drinks, talking crap, listening crap, making some crap moves..... What ever.

I know that at some point of time in your life you might have realized all this. But, there is a need to educate the rest and also pass on the message to the future generations. I dream of a day when guys are in demand and girls start worrying about finding a guy. I hope the day comes soon.

If you are still desperate, you need a second read.

P.S.: To the girls: If you think that some guy is crazy about you and trying hard to impress you, please tell him immediately if you are not interested.

Install Love !!!

Customer Service Representative: Can you install Love ?

Customer: I can do that. I'm not very technical, but I think I am ready to install. What do I do first?

CS Rep: The first step is to open your HEART. Have you located your HEART ma'am?

Customer: Yes I have, but there are several programs running right now. Is it okay to install while they are running?

CS Rep: What programs are running ma'am?

Customer: Let me see . . . I have PASTHURT.EXE, LOWESTEEM.EXE, GRUDGE.EXE, and RESENTMENT.COM running right now.

CS Rep: No problem. LOVE will automatically erase PASTHURT.EXE from your current operating system. It may remain in your permanent memory, but it will no longer disrupt other programs. LOVE will eventually overwrite LOWESTEEM.EXE with a module of its own called HIGH SELFESTEEM.EXE. However, you have to completely turn off GRUDGE.EXE and RESENTMENT.COM. Those programs prevent LOVE from being properly installed. Can you turn those off ma'am?

Customer: I don't know how to turn them off. Can you tell me how?

CS Rep: My pleasure. Go to your Start menu and invoke FORGIVENESS.EXE. Do this as many times as necessary until GRUDGE.EXE and RESENTMENT.COM been completely erased.

Customer: Okay, I'm done. LOVE has started installing itself automatically. Is that normal?

CS Rep: Yes it is. You should receive a message that says it will reinstall for the life of your HEART. Do you see that message?

Customer: Yes I do. Is it completely installed?

CS Rep: Yes, but remember that you have only the base program. You need to begin connecting to other HEARTS in order to get the upgrades.

Customer: Oops . . . I have an error message already. What should I do?

CS Rep: What does the message say?

Customer: It says "ERROR 412 - PROGRAM NOT RUN ON INTERNAL COMPONENTS." What does that mean?

CS Rep: Don't worry ma'am, that's a common problem. It means that the LOVE program is set up to run on external HEARTS but has not yet been run on your HEART. It is one of those complicated programming things, but in non-technical terms it means you have to "LOVE " your own machine before it can "LOVE" others.

Customer: So what should I do?

CS Rep: Can you find the directory called "SELF-ACCEPTANCE?"

Customer: Yes, I have it.

CS Rep: Excellent, you are getting good at this.

Customer: Thank you.

CS Rep: You're welcome. Click on the following files and then copy them to the "MYHEART" directory: FORGIVESELF.DOC, SELFESTEEM.TXT, REALIZEWORTH.TXT, and GOODNESS.DOC. The system will overwrite any conflicting files and begin patching any faulty programming. Also, you need to delete SELFCRITICISM.EXE from all directories, and then empty your recycle bin afterwards to make sure it is completely gone and never comes back.

Customer: Got it. Hey! My HEART is filling up with really neat smiles. SMILE.MPG is playing on my monitor right now and it shows that WARMTH.COM, PEACE.EXE, and CONTENTMENT.COM are copying themselves all over my HEART!

CS Rep: Then LOVE is installed and running. You should be able to handle it from here. One more thing before I go . . .

Customer: Yes?

CS Rep: LOVE is freeware. Be sure to give it and its various modules to everybody you meet. They will in turn share it with other people and they will return some really neat modules back to you.

Customer: I will. Thank you for your help.

"There are three things that remain–faith, hope, and love–and the greatest of these is love."

truth

Like those shining corners of the lift, I and life reflect back only half the face... rest is forever hidden... have a nice day...

Like those air conditioners in my room... which are silent, small, nice and cool from inside, but once we see the on the other side of the tower we come to know how big, hot, noisy, windy the thing is... life if touched from a distance is soothing but once you get into the detail......

Like that multistory parking tower behind which engulfs never ending row of cars one after another, life engulfs humans....... cars are different, tower is same.. humans are different... end is same..

Like that big world map in the main entrance hall which has a serious mistake of displacing a country all together from its location, life as a package looks perfect, but has serious errors if noticed closely..

Either people do change with time and circumstances or I am a fool..

Like those paper cups which take several minutes to form but few second to be used and thrown, sometimes we give years in a relationship and it takes moments............

Do you believe in god?

"Do you believe in god?", She asked.
He was taken aback. He never gave a thought on that. Ever.

He was made to believe in god. No "made to" is not correct. He was never forced. It was always around. He grew with it. He grew seeing his grandma doing all the fasting sincerely, even when she suffered from severe diabetes and missing a single meal meant a lot for her old used up body. He grew seeing his mother passing first drop of water or first bite of food down her throat only after she had her bath, did her prayers and paid her respect to sun god. He grew seeing his uncles remaining unshaven on "special days" of god. He chose to believe in god. He felt happy going to temple with mother, getting tilak on his head, eating prasad which the priest gave and drinking camphor water which he did even though he never liked doing (camphor taste gave strange feelings to his throat). He liked eating fruits and food specially cooked for fasting days. He loved doing pooja to his books, his bicycle, his toys on diwali and dusshera. Firing crackers on diwali, dancing during navaratri was so much fun.

But today, today though the answer he gave was yes, that yes was just to put an end to the matter. Just to answer her question. He was not in a position to say no and then being pressed to answer all the that would follow.

But once he was alone in his bed, in darkness, during night, he searched for the answer. He was sure that there was a counter question in his heart the time when he said "yes". A feeling which took birth in his heart and ran through his brain and body in a millisecond and died. That feeling made him shiver. That feeling told him he was lying, that he was wrong. He started arguing with himself.

He felt himself getting ripped into two parts.

"You don't believe in god. By now you should have understood there is no such entity. ", Said the first part.

"No, you are worng. Whatever you have is because of all strong god. There is god.", Screamed the second part. The part close to him.

"Ha, Ha, Ha, laughed the first part. What did you say? "Whatever you have." What do you have?" And that part became invisible. But his strong devilish laugh ringed in his ears for a long time.

Yes, he was right, what did he have? Once he had. He had everything. For others everything was same. For them, he was him, what he used to be. But for him, everything was different. His beliefs had died. His heart questioned for everything now.

Whether he has friends? For this moment, yes, so many! For next, no, he is not having any friend. Not even one. He is not having anyone with whom he can share everything. And everything meant everything. So, he is without any friends.

Whether he is healthy? For this moment, yes, he is. Never more healthier! For the next moment, no, he is not. How he spends those fierce nights with his eyes open, thinking nothing. How a small wound in his body, a small bulging in his neck (which he comes to know later was just a side effect of cold he had), a small change anywhere in his body - scares the hell out of him. No, he is not healthy. Not mentally, if not physically. Or the other way round. He has no answer.

Whether he is happy? This moment, yes he is. He keeps smiling, he keeps jumping, he keeps laughing. Sharing jokes, passing comments, enjoying. Yes, he is happy! No, he is not. Whether he is in the place he wanted to be? No, he is not. Is he with people he wanted to be with? No, he is not. Is he doing work he loved and and once dreamt of doing? No, he is not. Is he the reason for things, for people. No, he is not. And he looses badly if he tries. He has tried several times now trying to go near people. Trying to make friends. But nothing works. So, no, he is not happy. Is he alive? Ha, Ha, Ha. Again that devilish laugh ringing in the ears for a long time.

Ah! He is moving away from what he started with. He wanted to search answer for whether he believed in god or not. And what he ended thinking. This happens now. This happens several times at several places now. He wishes something, he tries something, he gets something else. And above all, now he takes what he gets, no questions asked, no battles fought. Yes! We hit the root. Here lies the answer. Whom to fight with? Whom to ask questions? There was a time when he prayed to god, he thanked to him for good times, he complained to him for bad times. And he felt then that his prayers are being noticed, are being anwered.

But then came a time when everything stopped. Nothing changed. He prayed, he complained, he fought, he cried, he shouted, he screamed, but no reply, no anwer, no change. Bad things kept coming, one after another, one after another, like those ants coming over a dying cockroach. Earlier he used to find it amusing. He used to think that that cockroach is alive but still he is not running away. Not reacting. How can he surrender to such small ants, particularly when he is not even dead yet? He used to laugh at the cockroach. But now, he himself was on sympathy of ants, of time, of destiny, of fate, of luck, of god. You choose the word you like. He will not speak. He will not react. He will just accept and move ahead. Nothing to do. Nothing to show. Nothing to bother about.

So did he believe in god? If someone is ready to hold responsibility of whatever happened in his life and whatever is happening, then yes, there is god. And if only he is supposed to account for, even without his being the reason for anything that happened, then no, there was no god. Why should he believe in something if not believing is not making any difference? Right?

Generally, no, not generally, always now, he will come to such conclusions and his brain will go numb, will go blank . Again a long fierce night with eyes open and nothing to think............

The Jonathan Mann - 1

Jonathan Mann is my close friend. And we came even closer after that day at Fishire annual fish games. Jonathan Mann was digesting his lunch over a pot of coffee overlooking a group of young fishes all looking bumps-a-daisies. The group consisted of a hogfish, a fusilier, a perch, a trevally and a cod, all surrounding an archerfish discussing some hot topic. He seated himself more comfortably. Suddenly something in white appeared up in the air coming towards him at the speed of light.

Fishes, new to the place, would have taken the thing on the head and would have lost their conciousness before seeing that the thing was just a sugar lump thrown by a friendly fin in the neighborhood. But Jonathan, now well acquainted to the place, successfully dodged the lump and beamed like a purring pussy cat on the catfish who threw it.

"Kya Umar Thi, Kya Sama Tha, Kya Jamaana Tha,
Ek Haseena Thi, Ek Deewaaaaaaaaana Thaaaa "

Himesh Fishemiya was singing in the background. The view around Jonathan made him conclude that joy reigned supreme, that Fishemiya was singing at his best, that everything in world was alright, that god was in heaven, that devil in his hell and nothing could be more smooth. He was feeling so fit today, bright eyes, rosy cheeks, sap flowing and rising in his veins and arteries as well. For a moment he forgot that since he was "the Jonathan Mann", what he felt at the moment was wrong and quite temporary. Once the serene moment passed, he remembered the day at the Fishire annual fish games and all his joyous feelings swooshed in the air.

"Ishq ki woh gali, Baat jiski chali,
Us gali me, mera aanaa, aana jaana tha,
Ek hasina thi, Ek diwaaaana thaaaaaaaaaaa"

Since he was a Himesh fan, he made a mental note that he is supposed to watch the new karz. So, we have Jonathan Mann (no more joyous) sitting at a corner looking at group of young fishes, all surrounding an archerfish and peeping out of the window. Jonathan did not first understand what they were up to. But once he overheard the conversation in the neighborhood, he knew exactly what they were up to. THEY WERE SHOOTING CHESTNUTS. As simple as that.

First, on hearing this, he felt strange. I mean there can be hundreds of things worthier of shooting - you can shoot tigers, you can shoot bears, you can shoot ducks, you can shoot faunas, you can shoot a gangster if you are in the force, you can shoot an aunt if you don't like her telling you not to scream and you can shoot anyone if you are a gangster yourself. But shooting chestnuts. That was quite out of the usual way. He was thinking in the same lines, when he realised that his train of thoughts were logically faulty. By shooting chestnuts they meant, shooting things with chestnuts as in by using a catapult.

Jonathan felt proud of his brain to discover the outcome in such a short span. It is many years since he himself owned a catapult in his village Fishire and was considered answer to Robin Grass, the famous Longtom from the neighboring village of Prawnshire. It was kindergarten stuff for fishes from Fishire, this catapult thing, a sort of stuff every fish from Fishire learns at it's mother's knee and Jonathan was best among all.

"Bewafa yaar ne, Apne mehboob se,
Aisa dhoka kiya, Aisha dhoka kiya
Zaher usko diya, Zaher usko diya"

"Fish Dudes", (the place were Jonathan was sitting), was considered blot on the metropolis of Fish York. The club was looked upon as low and was considered rest place for fishes for whom doing nothing was the most important work and having fun was life's motto. You name a bad fish and he will be member of "Fish Dudes". Fishes gathering here touched all the topics in the world. Topics such as weather, human aliens, dogs, cars (their treatment in sickness and in health), bomshells from Fishliwood, foreign policy of government, chances of local team in Folympics and what to do when you find a dead fish in your bath one fine morning with nothing on but a black spectacle.

Every now and then gentle fishes outside will hear cries and crashes coming from Fish Dudes. The scene of fishes flying (thrown !!!) in strange clothes out of Fish Dudes and running inside with double the enthusiasm as soon as they hit the ground outside was as ordinary as breathing. Because of this reasons, during all the time of day and night as well, you can see atleast two (or even more sometimes) copper fishers outside the club. And because these cops used force to maintain law and peace, every entry inside Fish Dudes (my friend Jonathan in particular) loathed them. No fish missed the chance of getting equal with these son of laws. They felt lucky, they felt proud, they felt strong, they felt invincible while carrying out the task of dealing with these cops. Details on it some other time.

For the time being coming back to Jonathan Mann. From his corner he decides something and starts walking towards the group with some air of a lionfish swimming towards its prey.

'Ah', said Jonathan taking the catapult from the fish in the centre. 'So this is the instrument. I would have preferred one with a whippier shaft, but we must not grumble. Yes', he said, moving to the window. 'I think I shall be able to make do. It is not the catapult, it is the fish behind that matters.' The first lesson a big game hunter learns, when on a safari for a tiger, is to watch and wait and Jonathan showed no impatience as the minutes went by and the only fish souls that came in sight were a couple of Goat Fish and a Big eye Barracuda. But he was confident that before long some worthy cop of his chestnut will emerge across the street. While waiting he had tense expectancy, a breathless feeling.

In about a minute, the moment arrived and there had come on the street across a tall, stout, florid fish who wore his high silk hat of the force like plumed helmet of a knight. He stood on the pavement with an air of authority looking satisfied that everything was in his control. In few minutes he was going to know how wrong he was.

'Tiger on skyline.' said the fusilier.
'Complete with topper', added the trevally, ' Draw the bead without delay, is my advice.'
'Just waiting till I can see the whites of his eyes', said Jonathan.

For a fish, who was new to the group, the air suddenly became like that of a fish who has had it drawn to his attention that there is a ticking bomb attatched to his coat tails, and knowing so whose each particular hair stands on end like quills upon a porpentine. He shouts, 'For heaven's sake Jonathan, you can't pot a cop's hat.'

Jonathan just gave a cold look to the fish and he was pulled behind by the hog and the cod for a proper explanation which he will remember till his death. Jonathan refocuses on his prey quickly for he thought if he do not give quick service, his quarry will be gone with the wind. From the way gills of the cop quivered as he sniffed the breeze, Jonathan was not sure that he was not already being scented.

Narrowing his gaze, he released the guided missile, little knowing, as it sped straight and true to its mark, that he will have to run from the spot immediately as the cop he hit was a tough one and was running towards Fish Dudes sole entrance shouting words we will not be able to account for here.

As soon as the chestnut hit the cop, there was a joyous shouting which resulted in a chain reaction with every fish inside the club screaming at the top of its voice. Claps, flying sugar lumps, even flying fishes were seen at that moment. Jonathan, happy but equally tensed, thought for a moment and ran towards the stairs behind the bar which was used to reach the first floor which was being used as a warehouse. The club was old and wooden. Earlier there was no first floor in the club. But to make space, bar owner Mr. Sore (a bennett's puffer), built a thin wooden partition over, so that the space between that partition and original roof, could be used as a warehouse. It was heavily stuffed, was very old and was on the verge of breaking.

The reason for explaining the roof is, Jonathan went for the same warehouse, and added weight of his heavily built body along with other stuffs. He was quiet and silent. He knew that till the cops themselves did not climb and check, he was safe. That no fish in Fish Dudes will give out his name. He could hear the shouting of the cops inquiring about which son of the blot dared to hit the hat of the force. Jonathan heard a low cracking voice somewhere around. He took it for rat fishes in the warehouse. But the sound gradually increased. And before he realized that it was the sound of breaking wood, the temporary roof gave up, and Jonathan fell down with a thud, with all the stuff of warehouse raining on him.

Every fish below was shocked with this sudden shower of things. Before anyone can understand anything, Jonathan stood up, removing debris from over his body. First thing he saw before him was the Copper with the blasmy hat whom he hit. The cop was looking at him with a cold eye and a question mark. All Jonathan could utter were the exact words "THE NAME IS BOND, JAMES BOND." And he leaped towards the door of Fish Dudes. All he could hear behind was shouts and cheers of fellow Fish Dude Fishes.

"Saamna jab hua, phir wahi sab hua,
Saamna jab hua, phir wahi sab hua,
Uspe yeh karz tha, uska yeh karz tha,
Karz to Farz Apna Chukanaaaaa tha,
Hoo, Hoo Hoo Hoooooo,
La La La Laaaaaaaaaa,
Hey Hey Hey Hey Hey,
Ek hasina thi, Ek deewanaaaaaa tha.. "

Kewl Kewl F1 Facts !!

1) F1 car is made up of 80,000 components, if it were assembled 99.9% correctly; it would still start the race with 80 things wrong!

2) When an F1 driver hits the brakes on his car he experiences retardation or deceleration comparable to a regular car driving through a BRICK wall at 300kmph!

3) F1 car can go from 0 to 160 kph AND back to 0 in FOUR seconds!

4) F1 car engines last only for about 2 hours of racing mostly before blowing up, on the other hand we expect our engines to last us for a decent 20 yrs on an average and they quite faithfully DO....that's the extent to which the engines are pushed to perform...

5) An average F1 driver looses about 4 kgs of weight after just one race due to the prolonged exposure to high G forces and temperatures for little over an hour (Yeah that's right!! I checked twice!!)

6) At 550kg a F1 car is less than half the weight of a Mini. (Mini is a car like maruti 800!)

7) To give idea of just how important aerodynamic design and added down force can be, small planes can take off at slower speeds than F1 cars travel on the track.

8) Without aerodynamic down force, high-performance racing cars have sufficient power to produce wheel spin and loss of control at 160 kph. They usually race at over 300 kph.

9) In a street course race like the Monaco grand prix, the down force provides enough suction to lift manhole covers. Before the race all of the manhole covers on the streets have to be welded down to prevent this from happening!

10) The refuelers used in F1 can supply 12 liters of fuel per second. This means it would take just 4 seconds to fill the tank of an average 50 liter family car. They use the same refueling rigs used on US military helicopters today.

11) TOP F1 pit crews can refuel and change tyres in around 3 seconds. FYI it took you around 8 sec to read this line.

12) During the race the tyres lose weight! Each tyre loses about 0.5 kg in weight due to wear!

13) Normal tyres last 60 000 - 100 000 km. Racing tyres are designed to last 90 - 120 km.

14) A dry-weather F1 tyre reaches peak operating performance (best grip) when tread temperature is between 900C and 1200C. (Water boils boils at 100C remember!) At top speed, F1 tyres rotate 50 times a second.