Subject: [dylug] Fwd: (Better) Stupid Questions - msg#00005

Previous Message by Date:

[dylug] Vision and Success ?

hi , came across something intresting . worth reading.   -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Address by Subroto Bagchi, Chief Operating Officer,MindTree Consulting to the Class of 2006 at the IndianInstitute of Management, Bangalore on definingsuccess. July 2nd 2004 I was the last child of a small-time governmentservant, in a family of five brothers. My earliestmemory of my father is as that of a DistrictEmployment Officer in Koraput, Orissa. It was andremains as back of beyond as you can imagine. Therewas no electricity; no primary school nearby and waterdid not flow out of a tap. As a result, I did not goto school until the age of eight; I was home-schooled.My father used to get transferred every year. Thefamily belongings fit into the back of a jeep ? so thefamily moved from place to place and, without anytrouble, my Mother would set up an establishment andget us going. Raised by a widow who had com e as arefugee from the then East Bengal, she was amatriculate when she married my Father. My parents setthe foundation of my life and the value system whichmakes me what I am today and largely defines whatsuccess means to me today. As District Employment Officer, my father was given ajeep by the government There was no garage in theOffice, so the jeep was parked in our house. My fatherrefused to use it to commute to the office. He told usthat the jeep is an expensive resource given by thegovernment ? he reiterated to us that it was not ?hisjeep? but the government?s jeep. Insisting that hewould use it only to tour the interiors, he would walkto his office on normal days. He also made sure that we never sat in the governmentjeep ? we could sit in it only when it was stationary.That was our early childhood lesson in governance ? alesson that corporate managers learn the hard way,some never do. The driver of the jeep was treated with respect due toany other member of my Father?s office. As smallchildren, we were taught not to call him by his name.We had to use the suffix ?dada? whenever we were torefer to him in public or private. When I grew up toown a car and a driver by the name of Raju wasappointed ? I repeated the lesson to my two smalldaughters. They have, as a result, grown up to callRaju, ?Raju Uncle? ? very different from many of theirfriends who refer to their family drivers as ?mydriver?. When I hear that term from a school- orcollege-going person, I cringe. To me, the lesson wassignificant ? you treat small people with more respectthan how you treat big people. It is more important torespect your subordinates than your superiors. Our day used to start with the family huddling aroundmy Mother?s chulha ? an earthen fire place she wouldbuild at each place of posting where she would cookfor the family. There was no gas, nor electricalstoves. The morning routine started with tea. As thebrew was served, Father would ask us to read aloud theeditorial page of The Statesman?s ?muffosil? edition ?delivered one day late. We did not understand much ofwhat we were reading. But the ritual was meant for usto know that the world was larger than Koraputdistrict and the English I speak today, despite havingstudied in an Oriya medium school, has to do with thatroutine. After reading the newspaper aloud, we weretold to fold it neatly. Father taught us a simplelesson. He used to say, ?You should leave yournewspaper and your toilet, the way you expect to findit?. That lesson was about showing consideration toothers. Business begins and ends with that simpleprecept. Being small children, we were always enamored withadvertisements in the newspaper for transistor radios? we did not have one. We saw other people havingradios in their homes and each time there was anadvertisement of Philips, Murphy or Bush radios, wewould ask Father when we could get one. Each time, my Father would reply that we did not needone because he already had five radios ? alluding tohis five sons. We also did not have a house of our ownand would occasionally ask Father as to when, likeothers, we would live in our own house. He would givea similar reply, ?We do not need a house of our own. Ialready own five houses?. His replies did not gladdenour hearts in that instant. Nonetheless, we learntthat it is important not to measure personal successand sense of well being through material possessions. Government houses seldom came with fences. Mother andI collected twigs and built a small fence. Afterlunch, my Mother would never sleep. She would take herkitchen utensils and with those she and I would di gthe rocky, white ant infested surrounding. We plantedflowering bushes. The white ants destroyed them. Mymother brought ash from her chulha and mixed it in theearth and we planted the seedlings all over again.This time, they bloomed. At that time, my father?s transfer order came. A fewneighbors told my mother why she was taking so muchpain to beautify a government house, why she wasplanting seeds that would only benefit the nextoccupant. My mother replied that it did not matter toher that she would not see the flowers in full bloom.She said, ?I have to create a bloom in a desert andwhenever I am given a new place, I must leave it morebeautiful than what I had inherited?. That was myfirst lesson in success. It is not about what youcreate for yourself, it is what you leave behind thatdefines success.  My mother began developing a cataract in her eyes whenI was very small. At that time, the elde st among mybrothers got a teaching job at the University inBhubaneswar and had to prepare for the civil servicesexamination. So, it was decided that my Mother wouldmove to cook for him and, as her appendage, I had tomove too. For the first time in my life, I sawelectricity in homes and water coming out of a tap. Itwas around 1965 and the country was going to war withPakistan. My mother was having problems reading and inany case, being Bengali, she did not know the Oriyascript. So, in addition to my daily chores, my job wasto read her the local newspaper ? end to end. Thatcreated in me a sense of connectedness with a largerworld. I began taking interest in many differentthings. While reading out news about the war, I feltthat I was fighting the war myself. She and Idiscussed the daily news and built a bond with thelarger universe. In it, we became part of a largerreality. Till date, I measure my success in terms ofthat sense of larger connectedness. Meanwhile, the war raged and India was fighting onboth fronts. Lal Bahadur Shastri, the then PrimeMinster, coined the term ?Jai Jawan, Jai Kishan? andgalvanized the nation in to patriotic fervor. Otherthan reading out the newspaper to my mother, I had noclue about how I could be part of the action. So,after reading her the newspaper, every day I wouldland up near the University?s water tank, which servedthe community. I would spend hours under it, imaginingthat there could be spies who would come to poison thewater and I had to watch for them. I would daydreamabout catching one and how the next day, I would befeatured in the newspaper. Unfortunately for me thespies at war ignored the sleepy town of Bhubaneswarand I never got a chance to catch one in action. Yet,that act unlocked my imagination. Imagination iseverything. If we can imagine a future, we can create< BR>it, if we can create that future, others will live init. That is the essence of success. Over the next few years, my mother?s eyesight dimmedbut in me she created a larger vision, a vision withwhich I continue to see the world and, I sense,through my eyes, she was seeing too. As the next fewyears unfolded, her vision deteriorated and she wasoperated for cataract. I remember, when she returnedafter her operation and she saw my face clearly forthe first time, she was astonished. She said, ?Oh myGod, I did not know you were so fair?. I remain mighty pleased with that adulation even tilldate. Within weeks of getting her sight back, shedeveloped a corneal ulcer and, overnight, became blindin both eyes. That was 1969. She died in 2002. In allthose 32 years of living with blindness, she nevercomplained about her fate even once. Curious to knowwhat she saw with blind eyes, I asked her once if shesees da rkness. She replied, ?No, I do not seedarkness. I only see light even with my eyes closed?.Until she was eighty years of age, she did her morningyoga everyday, swept her own room and washed her ownclothes. To me, success is about the sense ofindependence; it is about not seeing the world butseeing the light. Over the many intervening years, I grew up, studied,joined the industry and began to carve my life?s ownjourney. I began my life as a clerk in a governmentoffice, went on to become a Management Trainee withthe DCM group and eventually found my life?s callingwith the IT industry when fourth generation computerscame to India in 1981. Life took me places ? I workedwith outstanding people, challenging assignments andtraveled all over the world. In 1992, while I wasposted in the US, I learnt that my father, living aretired life with my eldest brother, had suffered athird degree burn injury and was admitted in theSafderjung Hospital in Delhi. I flew back to attend tohim ? he remained for a few days in critical stage,bandaged from neck to toe. The Safderjung Hospital isa cockroach infested, dirty, inhuman place. Theoverworked, under-resourced sisters in the burn wardare both victims and perpetrators of dehumanized lifeat its worst. One morning, while attending to myFather, I realized that the blood bottle was empty andfearing that air would go into his vein, I asked theattending nurse to change it. She bluntly told me todo it myself. In that horrible theater of death, I wasin pain and frustration and anger. Finally when sherelented and came, my Father opened his eyes andmurmured to her, ?Why have you not gone home yet??Here was a man on his deathbed but more concernedabout the overworked nurse than his own state. I wasstunned at his stoic self. There I learnt that thereis no limit to how concern ed you can be for anotherhuman being and what is the limit of inclusion you cancreate. My father died the next day. He was a man whose success was defined by hisprinciples, his frugality, his universalism and hissense of inclusion. Above all, he taught me thatsuccess is your ability to rise above your discomfort,whatever may be your current state. You can, if youwant, raise your consciousness above your immediatesurroundings. Success is not about building materialcomforts ?the transistor that he never could buy orthe house that he never owned. His success was aboutthe legacy he left, the memetic continuity of hisideals that grew beyond the smallness of a ill-paid,unrecognized government servant?s world. My father was a fervent believer in the British Raj.He sincerely doubted the capability of thepost-independence Indian political parties to governthe country. To him, the lowering of the Union Jackwas a sad event. My Mother was the exact opposite.When Subhash Bose quit the Indian National Congressand came to Dacca, my mother, then a schoolgirl,garlanded him. She learnt to spin khadi and joined anunderground movement that trained her in using daggersand swords. Consequently, our household saw diversityin the political outlook of the two. On major issuesconcerning the world, the Old Man and the Old Lady haddiffering opinions. In them, we learnt the power ofdisagreements, of dialogue and the essence of livingwith diversity in thinking. Success is not about theability to create a definitive dogmatic end state; itis about the unfolding of thought processes, ofdialogue and continuum. Two years back, at the age of eighty-two, Mother had aparalytic stroke and was lying in a governmenthospital in Bhubaneswar. I flew down from the US whereI was serving my second stint, to see her. I spent twoweeks with her in the hospital as she remained in aparalytic state. She was neither getting better normoving on. Eventually I had to return to work. Whileleaving her behind, I kissed her face. In thatparalytic state and a garbled voice, she said, ?Whyare you kissing me, go kiss the world.? Her river wasnearing its journey, at the confluence of life anddeath, this woman who came to India as a refugee,raised by a widowed Mother, no more educated than highschool, married to an anonymous government servantwhose last salary was Rupees Three Hundred, robbed ofher eyesight by fate and crowned by adversity ? wastelling me to go and kiss the world! Success to me is about Vision. It is the ability torise above the immediacy of pain. It is aboutimagination. It is about sensitivity to small people.It is about building inclusion. It is aboutconnectedness to a larger world existence. It is aboutpersonal tenacity. It is about g iving back more tolife than you take out of it. It is about creatingextra-ordinary success with ordinary lives. Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - Helps protect you from nasty viruses. Yahoo! Groups Sponsor ADVERTISEMENT Yahoo! Groups Links To visit your group on the web, go to:http://groups.yahoo.com/group/dygroup/  To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:dygroup-unsubscribe@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to the Yahoo! Terms of Service.

Next Message by Date:

[dylug] Quick Witted Answers

Real life IAS i.e. UPSC Exam 1998 Interview Question and there Answer given by Candidates oh sorry IAS Officer now Q.How can you drop a raw egg onto a concrete floor without cracking it? A.Concrete floors are very hard to crack! (UPSC Topper) Q.If it took eight men ten hours to build a wall,how long would it take four men to build it? A. No time at all it is already built. (UPSC 23 Rank Opted for IFS) Q.If you had three apples and four oranges in one hand and four apples and three oranges in the other hand, what would you have? A. Very large hands.(Good one) (UPSC 11 Rank Opted for IPS) Q. How can you lift an elephant with one hand? A. It is not a problem, since you will never find an elephant with one hand. (UPSC Rank 14 Opted for IES) Q. How can a man go eight days without sleep? A. No Probs , He sleeps at night. (UPSC IAS Rank 98) Q. If you throw a red stone into the blue sea what it will become? A. It will Wet or Sink as simple as that. (UPSC IAS Rank 2) Q. What looks like half apple ? A : The other half. (UPSC - IAS Topper ) Q. What can you never eat for breakfast ? A : Dinner. Q. What happened when wheel was invented ? A : It caused a revolution. Q. Bay of Bengal is in which state? A : Liquid (UPSC 33Rank ) Q: what is the opposite of Nagpanchmi? A: Nag did not punch me __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail Address AutoComplete - You start. We finish. http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail ------------------------ Yahoo! Groups Sponsor --------------------~--> Make a clean sweep of pop-up ads. Yahoo! Companion Toolbar. Now with Pop-Up Blocker. Get it for free! http://us.click.yahoo.com/L5YrjA/eSIIAA/yQLSAA/zCsqlB/TM --------------------------------------------------------------------~->

Previous Message by Thread:

[dylug] Vision and Success ?

hi , came across something intresting . worth reading.   -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Address by Subroto Bagchi, Chief Operating Officer,MindTree Consulting to the Class of 2006 at the IndianInstitute of Management, Bangalore on definingsuccess. July 2nd 2004 I was the last child of a small-time governmentservant, in a family of five brothers. My earliestmemory of my father is as that of a DistrictEmployment Officer in Koraput, Orissa. It was andremains as back of beyond as you can imagine. Therewas no electricity; no primary school nearby and waterdid not flow out of a tap. As a result, I did not goto school until the age of eight; I was home-schooled.My father used to get transferred every year. Thefamily belongings fit into the back of a jeep ? so thefamily moved from place to place and, without anytrouble, my Mother would set up an establishment andget us going. Raised by a widow who had com e as arefugee from the then East Bengal, she was amatriculate when she married my Father. My parents setthe foundation of my life and the value system whichmakes me what I am today and largely defines whatsuccess means to me today. As District Employment Officer, my father was given ajeep by the government There was no garage in theOffice, so the jeep was parked in our house. My fatherrefused to use it to commute to the office. He told usthat the jeep is an expensive resource given by thegovernment ? he reiterated to us that it was not ?hisjeep? but the government?s jeep. Insisting that hewould use it only to tour the interiors, he would walkto his office on normal days. He also made sure that we never sat in the governmentjeep ? we could sit in it only when it was stationary.That was our early childhood lesson in governance ? alesson that corporate managers learn the hard way,some never do. The driver of the jeep was treated with respect due toany other member of my Father?s office. As smallchildren, we were taught not to call him by his name.We had to use the suffix ?dada? whenever we were torefer to him in public or private. When I grew up toown a car and a driver by the name of Raju wasappointed ? I repeated the lesson to my two smalldaughters. They have, as a result, grown up to callRaju, ?Raju Uncle? ? very different from many of theirfriends who refer to their family drivers as ?mydriver?. When I hear that term from a school- orcollege-going person, I cringe. To me, the lesson wassignificant ? you treat small people with more respectthan how you treat big people. It is more important torespect your subordinates than your superiors. Our day used to start with the family huddling aroundmy Mother?s chulha ? an earthen fire place she wouldbuild at each place of posting where she would cookfor the family. There was no gas, nor electricalstoves. The morning routine started with tea. As thebrew was served, Father would ask us to read aloud theeditorial page of The Statesman?s ?muffosil? edition ?delivered one day late. We did not understand much ofwhat we were reading. But the ritual was meant for usto know that the world was larger than Koraputdistrict and the English I speak today, despite havingstudied in an Oriya medium school, has to do with thatroutine. After reading the newspaper aloud, we weretold to fold it neatly. Father taught us a simplelesson. He used to say, ?You should leave yournewspaper and your toilet, the way you expect to findit?. That lesson was about showing consideration toothers. Business begins and ends with that simpleprecept. Being small children, we were always enamored withadvertisements in the newspaper for transistor radios? we did not have one. We saw other people havingradios in their homes and each time there was anadvertisement of Philips, Murphy or Bush radios, wewould ask Father when we could get one. Each time, my Father would reply that we did not needone because he already had five radios ? alluding tohis five sons. We also did not have a house of our ownand would occasionally ask Father as to when, likeothers, we would live in our own house. He would givea similar reply, ?We do not need a house of our own. Ialready own five houses?. His replies did not gladdenour hearts in that instant. Nonetheless, we learntthat it is important not to measure personal successand sense of well being through material possessions. Government houses seldom came with fences. Mother andI collected twigs and built a small fence. Afterlunch, my Mother would never sleep. She would take herkitchen utensils and with those she and I would di gthe rocky, white ant infested surrounding. We plantedflowering bushes. The white ants destroyed them. Mymother brought ash from her chulha and mixed it in theearth and we planted the seedlings all over again.This time, they bloomed. At that time, my father?s transfer order came. A fewneighbors told my mother why she was taking so muchpain to beautify a government house, why she wasplanting seeds that would only benefit the nextoccupant. My mother replied that it did not matter toher that she would not see the flowers in full bloom.She said, ?I have to create a bloom in a desert andwhenever I am given a new place, I must leave it morebeautiful than what I had inherited?. That was myfirst lesson in success. It is not about what youcreate for yourself, it is what you leave behind thatdefines success.  My mother began developing a cataract in her eyes whenI was very small. At that time, the elde st among mybrothers got a teaching job at the University inBhubaneswar and had to prepare for the civil servicesexamination. So, it was decided that my Mother wouldmove to cook for him and, as her appendage, I had tomove too. For the first time in my life, I sawelectricity in homes and water coming out of a tap. Itwas around 1965 and the country was going to war withPakistan. My mother was having problems reading and inany case, being Bengali, she did not know the Oriyascript. So, in addition to my daily chores, my job wasto read her the local newspaper ? end to end. Thatcreated in me a sense of connectedness with a largerworld. I began taking interest in many differentthings. While reading out news about the war, I feltthat I was fighting the war myself. She and Idiscussed the daily news and built a bond with thelarger universe. In it, we became part of a largerreality. Till date, I measure my success in terms ofthat sense of larger connectedness. Meanwhile, the war raged and India was fighting onboth fronts. Lal Bahadur Shastri, the then PrimeMinster, coined the term ?Jai Jawan, Jai Kishan? andgalvanized the nation in to patriotic fervor. Otherthan reading out the newspaper to my mother, I had noclue about how I could be part of the action. So,after reading her the newspaper, every day I wouldland up near the University?s water tank, which servedthe community. I would spend hours under it, imaginingthat there could be spies who would come to poison thewater and I had to watch for them. I would daydreamabout catching one and how the next day, I would befeatured in the newspaper. Unfortunately for me thespies at war ignored the sleepy town of Bhubaneswarand I never got a chance to catch one in action. Yet,that act unlocked my imagination. Imagination iseverything. If we can imagine a future, we can create< BR>it, if we can create that future, others will live init. That is the essence of success. Over the next few years, my mother?s eyesight dimmedbut in me she created a larger vision, a vision withwhich I continue to see the world and, I sense,through my eyes, she was seeing too. As the next fewyears unfolded, her vision deteriorated and she wasoperated for cataract. I remember, when she returnedafter her operation and she saw my face clearly forthe first time, she was astonished. She said, ?Oh myGod, I did not know you were so fair?. I remain mighty pleased with that adulation even tilldate. Within weeks of getting her sight back, shedeveloped a corneal ulcer and, overnight, became blindin both eyes. That was 1969. She died in 2002. In allthose 32 years of living with blindness, she nevercomplained about her fate even once. Curious to knowwhat she saw with blind eyes, I asked her once if shesees da rkness. She replied, ?No, I do not seedarkness. I only see light even with my eyes closed?.Until she was eighty years of age, she did her morningyoga everyday, swept her own room and washed her ownclothes. To me, success is about the sense ofindependence; it is about not seeing the world butseeing the light. Over the many intervening years, I grew up, studied,joined the industry and began to carve my life?s ownjourney. I began my life as a clerk in a governmentoffice, went on to become a Management Trainee withthe DCM group and eventually found my life?s callingwith the IT industry when fourth generation computerscame to India in 1981. Life took me places ? I workedwith outstanding people, challenging assignments andtraveled all over the world. In 1992, while I wasposted in the US, I learnt that my father, living aretired life with my eldest brother, had suffered athird degree burn injury and was admitted in theSafderjung Hospital in Delhi. I flew back to attend tohim ? he remained for a few days in critical stage,bandaged from neck to toe. The Safderjung Hospital isa cockroach infested, dirty, inhuman place. Theoverworked, under-resourced sisters in the burn wardare both victims and perpetrators of dehumanized lifeat its worst. One morning, while attending to myFather, I realized that the blood bottle was empty andfearing that air would go into his vein, I asked theattending nurse to change it. She bluntly told me todo it myself. In that horrible theater of death, I wasin pain and frustration and anger. Finally when sherelented and came, my Father opened his eyes andmurmured to her, ?Why have you not gone home yet??Here was a man on his deathbed but more concernedabout the overworked nurse than his own state. I wasstunned at his stoic self. There I learnt that thereis no limit to how concern ed you can be for anotherhuman being and what is the limit of inclusion you cancreate. My father died the next day. He was a man whose success was defined by hisprinciples, his frugality, his universalism and hissense of inclusion. Above all, he taught me thatsuccess is your ability to rise above your discomfort,whatever may be your current state. You can, if youwant, raise your consciousness above your immediatesurroundings. Success is not about building materialcomforts ?the transistor that he never could buy orthe house that he never owned. His success was aboutthe legacy he left, the memetic continuity of hisideals that grew beyond the smallness of a ill-paid,unrecognized government servant?s world. My father was a fervent believer in the British Raj.He sincerely doubted the capability of thepost-independence Indian political parties to governthe country. To him, the lowering of the Union Jackwas a sad event. My Mother was the exact opposite.When Subhash Bose quit the Indian National Congressand came to Dacca, my mother, then a schoolgirl,garlanded him. She learnt to spin khadi and joined anunderground movement that trained her in using daggersand swords. Consequently, our household saw diversityin the political outlook of the two. On major issuesconcerning the world, the Old Man and the Old Lady haddiffering opinions. In them, we learnt the power ofdisagreements, of dialogue and the essence of livingwith diversity in thinking. Success is not about theability to create a definitive dogmatic end state; itis about the unfolding of thought processes, ofdialogue and continuum. Two years back, at the age of eighty-two, Mother had aparalytic stroke and was lying in a governmenthospital in Bhubaneswar. I flew down from the US whereI was serving my second stint, to see her. I spent twoweeks with her in the hospital as she remained in aparalytic state. She was neither getting better normoving on. Eventually I had to return to work. Whileleaving her behind, I kissed her face. In thatparalytic state and a garbled voice, she said, ?Whyare you kissing me, go kiss the world.? Her river wasnearing its journey, at the confluence of life anddeath, this woman who came to India as a refugee,raised by a widowed Mother, no more educated than highschool, married to an anonymous government servantwhose last salary was Rupees Three Hundred, robbed ofher eyesight by fate and crowned by adversity ? wastelling me to go and kiss the world! Success to me is about Vision. It is the ability torise above the immediacy of pain. It is aboutimagination. It is about sensitivity to small people.It is about building inclusion. It is aboutconnectedness to a larger world existence. It is aboutpersonal tenacity. It is about g iving back more tolife than you take out of it. It is about creatingextra-ordinary success with ordinary lives. Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - Helps protect you from nasty viruses. Yahoo! Groups Sponsor ADVERTISEMENT Yahoo! Groups Links To visit your group on the web, go to:http://groups.yahoo.com/group/dygroup/  To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:dygroup-unsubscribe@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to the Yahoo! Terms of Service.

Next Message by Thread:

[dylug] Quick Witted Answers

Real life IAS i.e. UPSC Exam 1998 Interview Question and there Answer given by Candidates oh sorry IAS Officer now Q.How can you drop a raw egg onto a concrete floor without cracking it? A.Concrete floors are very hard to crack! (UPSC Topper) Q.If it took eight men ten hours to build a wall,how long would it take four men to build it? A. No time at all it is already built. (UPSC 23 Rank Opted for IFS) Q.If you had three apples and four oranges in one hand and four apples and three oranges in the other hand, what would you have? A. Very large hands.(Good one) (UPSC 11 Rank Opted for IPS) Q. How can you lift an elephant with one hand? A. It is not a problem, since you will never find an elephant with one hand. (UPSC Rank 14 Opted for IES) Q. How can a man go eight days without sleep? A. No Probs , He sleeps at night. (UPSC IAS Rank 98) Q. If you throw a red stone into the blue sea what it will become? A. It will Wet or Sink as simple as that. (UPSC IAS Rank 2) Q. What looks like half apple ? A : The other half. (UPSC - IAS Topper ) Q. What can you never eat for breakfast ? A : Dinner. Q. What happened when wheel was invented ? A : It caused a revolution. Q. Bay of Bengal is in which state? A : Liquid (UPSC 33Rank ) Q: what is the opposite of Nagpanchmi? A: Nag did not punch me __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail Address AutoComplete - You start. We finish. http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail ------------------------ Yahoo! Groups Sponsor --------------------~--> Make a clean sweep of pop-up ads. Yahoo! Companion Toolbar. Now with Pop-Up Blocker. Get it for free! http://us.click.yahoo.com/L5YrjA/eSIIAA/yQLSAA/zCsqlB/TM --------------------------------------------------------------------~->