My grand father Chowdhary Ram Swarup Garhwal, Kagdanvi, Freedom Fighter passed away on 6 May 2011. May his soul rest in peace. He was born on 6th July 1918. He was 93 years old. He was freedom fighter. He was a part of the Azad Hind Fauz founded by Netaji Subash Chandra Bose. I'm proud of him.

Today evening, me, my dad and our factory neighbours were chatting. Dad started telling a story. The title of the story was "Something has happened and something is yet to happen." I enjoyed the story very much so I would like to share it with you all. 

This is how it goes.

Some guy found a skelton head, on it the words "Something has happened and something is yet to happen" was inscribed. The guy was a little confused. He thought that this is a skelton head, what is left to happen to it? Because its a dead person's skelton head. He was confused and wanted to find what is left to happen. So he carried it home and hid it in the store room. 

At least once everyday he used to go to the store room and check the skelton, whether something more has happened to it or not. This continued for many days. The guy's wife got suspicious and wanted to find out what is going on. Why her husband goes to the store room everyday and comes out without doing anything. So one fine day, she searched the store room, when the husband was not at home, and found the skelton head.

She thought that this skelton head must be of the guys lover or previous wife or girl friend. So got furious. She took the skelton head and made it powder by beating it again and again. Then she carried it and went to a far away river and through the powdered skelton head into the river. 

In the evening the guy came back home and as usual went to the store room to check the skelton head. After not finding the head in to the store room, he enquired his wife about it. She told him with anger that she found it and made it into powder and through it into the river. 

The guy laughed and laughed. So this is what was left to happen. 

Moral of the story: There is no end to life. Something has happened and somethings are yet to happen. 

Following are some of the photos clicked by VP during her trip to home in Saraburi, Thailand this Diwali.

Mandir at the Aditya Birla Housing Colony in Saraburi, Thailand. 

Veeni's dad (GB) praying at a temple in Ayuthya.

Veeni Praying.

Sleeping Buddha, Ayuthya, Thailand.

Veeni's Mom (Rekha)

Thai Wax Museum

A typical Thai family from village.

I have no idea what these guys are trying to do. But its funny.

Thai Kids. Notice the pony tails on all the kids. 

This is very common hair style for Thai Kids. Looks cool.

This Wax Model looks really original. 

Notice the lines on his forehead. Its good work of art.

Four real people and three wax models.

Wax Model reading newspaper.

The Pegion Love Story

...Wow! She is so beautiful....

... I Love her... (Love at first sight)

...Oh no!!! Where did she go?...

...there she is...

...Wait for me... Here I come my love...

PS: All the above photographs are clicked by VP.

PS2: VP = Veeni Patel, my fiancee.

After finishing graduation from Webster University I wrote an article ‘Webster Thailand Striving’ for the University Newspaper ‘Chai’. The same article also got published in a local Hua Hin magazine – Observer. Below is a scan copy of the same.

When gulli-danda and kanche (marbles) were more popular than cricket ...

When we always had friends to play aais-paais (I Spy),chhepan-chhepai and pitthoo with anytime

When we desperately waited for 'yeh jo hai jindagi' ..

When chitrahaar, vikram-baitaal, dada daadi ki kahaniyaan were so fulfilling

When there was just one tv in every fifth house and

When bisleris were not sold in the trains and we did not worry whether our fathers would get back onto the train in time or not when they got down at a station to fill up the water bottle ..

When we went to bed by 9.00pm sharp except for the 'yeh jo hai jindagi' day ..

When Holis & Diwalis meant mostly hand-made pakwaans and sweets and our moms seeking our help while preparing them

When we exchanged comics and stamps and chacha-chaudari and billu were our heroes ...

When we were in our nanihaals every summer and loved flying kites and plucking and eating unripe mangoes and leechis ..

When one movie every Sunday evening on television was more than asked for and 'ek do teen chaar' and 'Rajni' inspired us

When 50 paisa meant at least 10 toffees ...

When left over pages of the last years notebooks were used for rough work or even fair work

When 'chelpark' and 'natraaj' were encouraged against 'reynolds and family' ..

When the first rain meant getting drenched and playing in water and mud and making 'kaagaj ki kishtis' ...

When there were no phones to tell friends that we will be at their homes at six in the evening .

When our parents always had 15 paise blue colored 'antardesis' and 5 paise machli wale stamps at home

When we remembered tens of jokes and did not find 'ice-cream and papa' type jokes foolish enough to stop us from laughing ..

When we did not see patakhes on Diwalis and gulaals on Holis as air and noise polluting or allergic agents ...

the list can be endless ..

on a serious note I would like to summarise with .

When we used our hearts more than our brains, even for scientifically "brainy" activities like 'thinking' and 'deciding' .

When we cried and laughed more often, more openly and more sincerely .

When we enjoyed our present more than worrying about our future ..

When being emotional was not synonymous to being weak

When journeys also were important and not just the destinations .

When life was a passenger's sleeper giving enough time and opportunity to enjoy the sceneries from its open and transparent glass windows instead of some superfast's second ac with its curtained, closed and dark windows ...

Wonderful Good old days.. I Really Miss them!!

A wise woman who was traveling in the mountains found a precious stone in a stream. The next day she met another traveler who was hungry, and the wise woman opened her bag to share her food. The hungry traveler saw the precious stone and asked the woman to give it to him. She did so without hesitation. The traveler left, rejoicing in his good fortune. He knew the stone was worth enough to give him security for a lifetime. But, a few days later, he came back to return the stone to the wise woman. "I've been thinking," he said. "I know how valuable this stone is, but I give it back in the hope that you can give me something even more precious. Give me what you have within you that enabled you to give me this stone."

Sometimes it's not the wealth you have but what's inside you that others need.

Read more at 123Fungama

A water bearer in China had two large pots, each hung on the ends of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water. At the end of the long walk from the stream to the House, the cracked pot arrived only half full.
For a full two years this went on daily,with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water to his house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of it's own imperfection. And miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.
After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you. I have been able to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full value from your efforts," the pot said.
The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw. So I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you've watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the table.
Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house?

Moral : Each of us has our own unique flaws. We're all cracked pots. But it's the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding. You've just got to take each person for what they are, and look for the good in them. Blessed are the flexible, for they shall not be bent out of shape.Remember to appreciate all the different people in your life.

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