Food For Thought For Wednesday, November 30th, 2011

The tragedy of life is not death, but what we let die inside us while we live.

It was Norman Cousins who wrote that he was the man who was told he had only months to live.

As he was laying in his hospital bed with all his relatives around him being so sad, he thought to himself that with all this misery around me I’ll die for sure, so he checked out and went to a hotel on his own without letting anyone see him and he decided to watch funny movies.

He lived for over 20 years!

He cured himself of all disease by laughing and he went on to help many people see life in a very different way.

We aren’t here very long on the scale of things, even those that live to be a hundred, so don’t let yourself get too serious.

Loosen up and make sure you spend time with the people you love and care about, that’s the real juice of life!

By Unknown


Food For Thought For Tuesday, November 29th, 2011


It was one of those cold winter nights in the Haight district of San  Francisco, the kind where the rain hurts, and your breath forms huge cotton  balls that bounce on the pavement.  

I was driving an eyesore that could only be referred to as a "car" by  someone who was either a shameless liar or a good friend.  Technically, the vehicle was totalled when I bought it from an  unscrupulous neighbor, because it needed an engine overhaul that would have  cost more than the car itself. I added a quart of oil before every  journey. Most of it would leak out along the way. I tried to imagine I  was driving a huge magical snail; that way I didn’t mind the slow speeds  and the slime trail it left.  

The car’s outer paint had transformed into a hideous mixture of rust  and "something brown." The engine sounded like a lawnmower with  tuberculosis. If anyone ever wondered what the inside of an automobile  seat looked like, my car had the answers. It was a difficult car to drive  because you had to keep your fingers and toes crossed to keep the engine  running.  

That night I must have uncrossed my fingers to scratch something. The  car died in the middle of a four-lane stretch of Oak Street. I coasted as  far as I could, hoping for a place to turn off, but the street was lined  with parked cars and the nearest intersection was beyond coasting distance.  

There I sat, in busy evening traffic, no lights, no locomotion, as  tons of steel and plastic screamed by. In my rearview mirror I saw a pair  of headlights pull up and stop behind me. I knew what was coming.  Soon the horn would start and someone would be cursing at me.  

In San Francisco, if you dawdle too long after a light turns green,  you get the horn. If you dare to come to a full stop at a stop sign, you  get the horn from the car behind you. I figured I was begging for trouble.  But I was wrong.  

A stranger got out of the car and came to my window. He shouted, "Do  you want a push?"  

I was stunned but must have nodded in the affirmative. He waived to  his car and two teens piled out to apply themselves to my bumper. When I  was safely delivered to a side street, they hopped back into their car and  rejoined the sea of anonymous traffic.  

I didn’t get to thank them.  

Over the years I’ve realized something about the stranger who stopped  to help. I’ve noticed that every time I’m in trouble, he appears. He never  looks the same. Sometimes he’s a woman. His age and ethnicity vary. But  he’s always there.  

I’ve started to understand he’s the best part of what makes us human  beings. The one true thing in this world is an unasked kindness provided  by a stranger. It’s the invisible cord that binds us all together and  makes life worthwhile.  

This year, when you find yourself immersed in the clutter and bustle,  annoyed by the long lines, baffled about how you’ll  get everything done, remember this:  

One of the people in that crowd is the stranger. Today, maybe it’s you.  

– Scott Adams     


Food For Thought For Monday, November 27th, 2011


                            You may have heard the story of the twins, Harry and Larry.  Harry is a pessimist and Larry is an optimist.

  Dad bought Harry a bike, basketball, rifle, everything to make him happy.
He bought a pile of manure for Larry.

  Harry said, "If I ride this bike, I might get hit by a car.  If I take my basketball outside, someone might steal it.  This rifle is dangerous.  I will probably shoot someone’s window out."

  He got worse from there and turned his birthday to gloom and doom.

  When Larry saw the pile of manure, he began to look through all of the rooms in the house.  His dad caught him by the arm and said, "Son, what are you looking for?"

  Larry replied, "Dad, with all the horse manure you gave me, there’s got to be a pony around here some place!"

Sanjay Sabarwal
General Counsel
Ziba Inc.
Sumita by Ziba Beauty
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Point:  "A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty." – Sir Winston Churchill


Food For Thought For Wednesday, November 23rd, 2011

From the Buddha’s Dhammapada

(freely translated by Stephen Mitchell)
Mind creates the world;
what you see arises with your thoughts.
If you speak and act with a confused mind,
trouble will follow you as certainly
as a cart follows the ox that pulls it.
Mind creates the world;
what you see arises with your thoughts.
If you speak and act with a clear mind,
happiness will follow you as certainly
as your own shadow in sunlight.
"It’s his fault." "She shouldn’t have done that."
Believe such thoughts, and you live in resentment.
"It’s his fault." "She shouldn’t have done that."
Question such thoughts, and you live in freedom.
Anger teaches anger.
Fear results in more fear.
Only understanding can lead to peace.
This is the ancient law.


Food For Thought For Tuesday, November 22nd, 2011


Several years ago, an elderly gentleman tried to make ends meet by selling balloons on a Chicago street corner.  His business had its ups and downs.

Whenever business got a little slow, the salesman would release a few of his helium balloons.

  First, a pink one, then a blue one and later a red one.  Children would notice the colorful array of balloons and business would pick up.

One day, a little boy sat across the street watching the balloon salesman.  He was intrigued by the flying balloons.  Towards the end of the day, the little boy walked over and tugged on the man’s coat sleeve.

Looking the balloons salesman in the eye, he asked, "Mister, if you let go of the orange balloon, would it go up?"

Touched by the boy’s sincerity, the balloon salesman looked at the little boy and responded with compassion and understanding.  "Son, it’s what’s inside that makes these balloons go up."


– Unknown


Start saving early this holiday season

Sent from my iPhone

Begin forwarded message:

From: “Ziba Beauty” <>
Date: November 21, 2011 3:14:54 PM PST
To: “Sanjay” <>
Subject: Start saving early this holiday season

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