Many have a problem in understanding the flow of foreign mail/parcels to India. Some times the packets are stuck at customs and some times in the sorting offices. I have collected some information while on pursuit of my parcels and it is summarized here in a flow chart form. The information is quite rudimentary but I intend to update the same with more data as and when I come across.Inaccuracies are bound to be there, so use after due verification.
I don’t turn away after making love to my woman
I don’t mind holding her till she sleeps
I don’t preach my children
I don’t repent forgiving my neighbors
I don’t see a Muslim in every terrorist
I don’t grudge letting other live the way they want to
I don’t say that I know
I don’t honk on the street
I don’t jump the stop signal
I don’t donate to NGOs
I don’t stop myself from spending on those in need
I don’t waste my food
I don’t live to eat
I don’t waste water and power
I don’t buy cloths till old ones exist
I don’t cry when others are happy
I don’t know who I am.
It is raining and I am feeling sadly elated. All the water that summer sun had borrowed from earth is flowing back. Who keeps track of the accounting process ? How much was taken and how much is given back? Who gained and who lost by the process ? Where am I in all this ?
Found a way out to use the Card Board Box that came with the TV. Here it is.
I covered the box using handmade paper. Used some weight inside to bring the CG down. Now it refuses to topple. A power switch is provided for turning off both STB and TV.
The school closed for X-Mas holidays & my son returned from school on a happy note. His mother rummaged through his bag with usual vigor. The joy was short lived on finding the voluminous holiday homework. Scores of new words to be learned, dozens of rhymes to be memorized and so on. The lad is about 5 years old & would incur enormous amount of hardship to go through the rigor. What happens to his vacation ? It went for a toss.
It was not like this in our days. I still do not understand the ingenuity in learning nursery rhymes by heart without understanding most of them.
The stock market is like a slippery pole that has no end. The traders are monkeys trying to go up. Every time they go up, they fall again. Some monkeys wait for the right time to jump, others keep jumping.
Am I suffering from Googlomania? Every time I board the rickshaw to work I think about my next confusion that needs to be resolved through googling.