Rupee Quotes

Sometimes I wonder, Balram. I wonder what's the point of living. I really wonder...' The point of living? My heart pounded The point of your living is that if you die, who's going to pay me three and a half thousand rupees a month?

A wife should always be few feet behind her husband. If he is an MA you should be a BA.If he is 5'4'tall you shouldn't be more than 5'3'tall. If he is earning five hundred rupees you should never earn more than four hundred and ninety nine rupees.That's the only rule to follow if you want a happy marriage...No partnership can ever be equal.It will always be unequal, but take care it is unequal in favor of the husband. If the scales tilt in your favor, God help you, both of you.

Why be elated by material profit?” Father replied. “The one who pursues a goal of evenmindedness is neither jubilant with gain nor depressed by loss. He knows that man arrives penniless in this world, and departs without a single rupee.

Listen to your kuya, sister. Got three type kilikili.” He raises his finger. “One, that kano armpit smell like butter, burger, dollar; two, that Chinese intsik one smell like noodles, siopao, yuan; three, that bumbay one bad smell like roti, curry, rupee. Next time, find a kano who smells like butter, burger, or dollar. Curry not good. Rupee also not good, ba.

The coolies pull them across Howrah bridge, which they share with cars, trucks, bullock carts, a party of young women in saris strolling in no hurry wearing bangles on their ankles, an elephant also in no hurry, and a cow that is lying down in the middle of the road chewing lazily a booklet entitled Dr W C Roy’s SPECIFIC FOR INSANITY. The camera pauses on a portion of the half-eaten text: “Dr Roy’s insanity medicine acted a charm. I am completely cured,” says Srinath Ghosh of Bundelkund. 5 rupees per phial.

Esti singur in vartejul suferintei tale si daca vrei sa iesi trebuie sa tragi aer in piept si sa te scufunzi pana se sfarseste. Mai degraba iubeste-o pana cand iubirea ti se face apa si se scurge prin toti porii. Iubeste-o in absenta. Va fi ca si cum te-ai arunca de nebun intr-un zid. De sute, de mii de ori. Neclintit, zidul iti va rupe oasele, pielea ti-o vei zdreli, iti vei sfasia hainele pana cand te vei fi prelins in praful de la baza lui. Un somn lung te va cuprinde, apoi te vei trezi ca dupa un cosmar pe care vei incerca sa-l rememorezi. Soarele diminetii nu-ti va da timp si vei uita. Cu fiecare zi care va trece vei mai fi uitat putin cate putin...Vindeca-te singur. E tot ce poti face pentru tine.

O singurătate cum nu poate trăi nici un om în viața reală, care-ți rupe oasele ca un animal sălbatic, îmi sfârteca organele interne.

When you face your fear, you become familiar with it and familiarity makes it lose its meaning, loosen its grip—fear ceases to be fear.

Constantine cursed the faujis again, and then he cursed Tom Cruise for having made that bloody Top Gun movie. Since then, an entire generation of faujis had grown up thinking they could be like him just by buying those cheap rip-off sunglasses for 200 rupees from Zainab Market.

Oh, no said her mother sadly. You know nothing of the pettiness of women. When brothers agree to split a joint family they sometimes divide lakhs of rupees worth of property in a few minutes. But the tussle of their wives over the pots and pans in the common kitchen--that nearly causes bloodshed.

Dreams heed no borders, the eyes need no visas With eyes shut I walk across the line in time All the time—

The Great Socialist himself is said to have embezzled one billion rupees from the Darkness, and transferred that money into a bank account in a small, beautiful country in Europe full of white people and black money.

Yes, it’s true: a few hundred thousand rupees of someone else’s money, and a lot of hard work, can make magic happen in this country.

Guys, Don't be Clever by knowing one side. Your assumptions are always wrong. Even a one rupee coin have two sides.

Srinagar is a medieval city dying in a modern war. It is empty streets, locked shops, angry soldiers and boys with stones. It is several thousand military bunkers, four golf courses, and three book-shops. It is wily politicians repeating their lies about war and peace to television cameras and small crowds gathered by the promise of an elusive job or a daily fee of a few hundred rupees. It is stopping at sidewalks and traffic lights when the convoys of rulers and their patrons in armored cars, secured by machine guns, rumble on broken roads. It is staring back or looking away, resigned. Srinagar is never winning and never being defeated.

Many crores of rupees are squandered in this country by way offering gratitude to God and bribing Him to gain greater and greater wealth.

Ne zanimaju me izmišljotine. Zato više ništa ne čitam. I da znaš, neće svet propasti zbog ozonske rupe, niti zbog Marsovaca, već zbog laži.

E mana care rupe pagina din carte, e cartea care rupe trairea din viata, e viata care-l rupe pe Dumnezeu din fasha, pe un camp de lupta unde corbii refuza sa se intoarca... 92 DE POVESTI CU CARTI

Moksh tamara karmo nu aapo aap maltu fal chhe, Koi manjil nathi ke teni trushna ma jivava nu hoy. Chetna ughade aetle badhu takladi hoy te chhute , kain vrat niyam na bhaag rupe badhu chhodava thi chetana na pragate.

Remember Luigi, Toaster Toast Toast." - Mario Hotel "Remember Luigi, Where There Fire, There's Burnt Toast." - Mario Hotel "Greetings Young Traveller, I See That You Have Wandered Into My Store. Would You Like To Partake In One Of My Goods Or Services, I Sell Clothes, Rope, Bombs, You Want It I Got It, As Long As You Have Enough Rupees. Oh, I See You Don't Have Enough Ruppees, Come Back When You're A Bit, Umm, Riche." - The Legend Of Zelda

The young no longer want to understand why a system made them spend lakhs of rupees studying to be engineers when at the end of it all they could not find jobs that would pay them even ten thousand. They took loans to gain admission and study in colleges that promised them training and placements. Those colleges don't exist anymore, but the loans are still being repaid.

I have left a few paltry rupees, a few petty pleasures, for a cosmic empire of endless bliss. How then have I denied myself anything? I know the joy of sharing the treasure. Is that a sacrifice? The shortsighted worldly folk are verily the real renunciates! They relinquish an unparalleled divine possession for a poor handful of earthly toys!

Copii sunt mai aproape de Dumnezeu pentru ca ei nu se indoiesc. Indoiala vine cu varsta. Asta inseamna ca in stare de embrion in pantecele mamei e dumnezeire. Dumnezeire care alege sa devina OM. Unde pierdem oare harul? Unde se rupe firul care odata intrerupt naste indoiala? Sunt multe raspunsuri, stiu. Prea multe corecte, niciunul adevarat...

Just because drivers and cooks in Delhi are reading Murder Weekly, it doesn't mean that they are all about to slit their masters' necks. Of course they’d like to. Of course, a billion servants are secretly fantasizing about strangling their bosses — and that’s why the government of India publishes this magazine and sells it on the streets for just four and a half rupees so that even the poor can buy it. you see, the murdered in the magazine is so mentally disturbed and sexually deranged that not one reader would want to be like him — and in the end he always gets caught by some honest, hardworking police officer (ha!), or goes mad and hangs himself by a bedsheet after writing a sentimental letter to his mother or primary school teacher, or is chased, beaten, buggered, and garroted by the brother of the woman he has done in. So if your driver is busy flicking through the pages of Murder Weekly, relax. No danger to you. Quite the contrary. It’s when your driver starts to read about Gandhi and the Buddha that it’s time to wet your pants.

Either you create million excuses or you create million rupees. But you cannot create both.

Those were the days of simple living. You don’t see two-rupee notes any more. You don’t see walking sticks either. Hardly anyone walks.

The powerful alchemy of his storytelling transforms the atthanni—the half a rupee coin—into a rupaiya.

Every day, on the roads of Delhi, some chauffeur is driving an empty car with a black suitcase sitting on the backseat. Inside that suitcase is a million, two million rupees; more money than that chauffeur will see in his lifetime. If he took the money he could go to America, Australia, anywhere, and start a new life. He could go inside the five-star hotels he has dreamed about all his life and only seen from the outside. He could take his family to Goa, to England. Yet he takes that black suitcase where his master wants. He puts it down where he is meant to, and never touches a rupee. Why? "Because Indians are the world's most honest people, like the prime minister's booklet will inform you? No. It's because 99.9 percent of us are caught in the Rooster Coop just like those poor guys in the poultry market.

Sometimes I wonder, Balram. I wonder what’s the point of living. I really wonder . . .” The point of living? My heart pounded. The point of your living is that if you die, who’s going to pay me three and a half thousand rupees a month?

good storyteller is the conscience-keeper of a

He is the devotee who is jealous of none, who is a fount of mercy, who is without egotism, who is selfless, who treats alike cold and heat, happiness and misery, who is ever forgiving, who is always contented, whose resolutions are firm, who has dedicated mind and soul to God, who causes no dread, who is not afraid of others, who is free from exultation, sorrow and fear, who is pure, who is versed in action and yet remains unaffected by it, who renounces all fruit, good or bad, who treats friend and foe alike, who is untouched by respect or disrespect, who is not puffed up by praise, who does not go under when people speak ill of him, who loves silence and solitude, who has a disciplined reason. Such devotion is inconsistent with the existence at the same time of strong attachments. 18. We thus see that to be a real devotee is to realize oneself. Self-realization is not something apart. One rupee can purchase for us poison or nectar, but knowledge or devotion cannot buy us salvation or bondage. These are not media of exchange. They are themselves the thing we want. In other words, if the means and the end are not identical, they are almost so. The extreme of means is salvation. Salvation of the Gita is perfect peace.

A man left home in morning with 1 Rupee. He gambled with it and made millions. Then lost them all. He returned home in evening empty handed. His wife is clueless why loss of just 1 Rupee has drowned his husband in so much depression that he is not speaking a word. This is the illusion or Maya.

If your one Rupee is pending with a shopkeeper, you would go to that shop again even if you have to spend 10 Rupees fuel. Same thing happens in relationships. If you have invested a few precious moments in someone, it becomes very difficult to leave. This is how Maya (Space-Time) keeps a soul attached birth after birth.

Opening lines of The Great Indian Novel narrated as a modern day MahaBharata. They tell me India is an underdeveloped country. They attend seminars, appear on television, even come to see me, creasing their eight-hundred-rupee suits and clutching their moulded plastic briefcases, to announce in tones of infinite understanding that India has yet to develop. Stuff and nonsense, of course. “These are the kind of fellows who couldn’t tell their kundalini from a decomposing earthworm, and I don’t hesitate to tell them so. I tell them they have no knowledge of history and even less of their own heritage. I tell them that if they would only read the Mahabarata and the Ramayana, study the Golden Ages of the Mauryas and the Guptas and even of those Muslim chaps the Mughals, they would realize that India in not an underdeveloped country but a highly developed country in an advanced stage of decay.” They laugh about me pityingly and shift from one foot to the other, unable to conceal their impatience, and I tell them that, in fact, everything in India in over-developed, particularly the social structure, the bureaucracy, the political process, the financial system, the university network and, for that matter, the women. Cantankerous old man, I them thinking, as they make their several exists

Cele trei fraze pe care trebuie să le rosteşti pentru a rupe o legătură: "te părăsesc", "între noi totul s-a sfârşit" şi "nu te mai iubesc". Atât timp cât nu sunt formulate, mai există o cale de întoarcere. Poţi să te ciorovăieşti cât vrei cu celălalt, poţi să-l faci şi poate să te facă în toate felurile. Dar, în ziua în care aceste fraze au fost spuse, s-a terminat: au efectul unui clichet şi e imposibil să mai revii. Sunt asemenea unor cuvinte de trecere care blochează trecerea, sunt un "Sesam, închide-te" al dragostei.

A good storyteller is the conscience-keeper of a nation.

And what was really mine? A handful of rupees and a mind packed tight with rage.

Working for million dollars is not a big thing, working for thousand rupees on your passion is important.

Čovjek može od svega pobjeći, ali nema te rupe u koju se može sakriti od svojih misli.

Da, zisei, povestea care se repetă, temerea de totdeauna care rupe vraja, şi o rupe când el , când ea, cine iubeşte mai puţin .

No jury, we knew, could convict a man on the criminal count on native evidence in a land where you can buy a murder-charge, including the corpse, all complete for fifty-four rupees

Sufletul nu este o gumă de mestecat.Nu se întinde şi nici nu se rupe, şi nici nu se dă din gură în gură.

Faptele grave se petrec în afara timpului, fie din pricină că trecutul imediat parcă se rupe de viitor, fie din pricină că părțile alcătuitoare nu par să se înlănțuiască firesc.

Somebody had said how only 15 paisa of the one rupee sent from the Centre reached the intended beneficiaries. The job of a leader isn't just to diagnose the disease but to treat it

Avem nevoie de cuvinte pentru că familiile nefericite sunt niște conspirații ale tăcerii. Cel care rupe tăcerea nu este iertat niciodată.

Atata vreme cât cercul vicios nu se va rupe undeva, nu numai ceasul, dar şi timpul vor sta în loc oprite de firele de nisip.

Cecily, you will read your Political Economy in my absence. The chapter on the Fall of the Rupee you may omit. It is somewhat too sensational.

If you ask an urban lady what she would pay to her sweepers, the reply is obvious. She would pay a man two thousand rupees and a maiden not more than thousand bucks.

The biggest problem of our country is not Harshad Mehta stealing ₹ 3000 crores. It is when an ordinary person pays 200 rupees as bribe – and thinks it’s okay.

So dominant did the Indians become over vast regions of East Africa that the rupee became the prevailing currency in much of that region.

Doctore, mi-am fracturat sufletul, s-a impiedicat de o privire ascuţită, s-a răsucit în toată dragostea lui şi şi-a frânt o aripă! Hai, pune atele sau coasele cu sfoară ce-a mai rămas! Coase! Nu mă lăsa infirmă, nu mă rupe de mine! Coase şi spune-mi cine în mine se revarsă prin ochi, fără anestezie? Cum am ajuns să-mi fiu străină mie şi cine m-a smuls din mine, doctore?

I managed to be on the list of selected candidates, but admission to this prestigious institution was an expensive affair. Around a thousand rupees was required, and my father could not spare that much money. At that time, my sister, Zohara, stood behind me, mortgaging her gold bangles and chain. I was deeply touched by her determination to see me educated and by her faith in my abilities. I vowed to release her bangles from mortgage with my own earnings. The only way before me to earn money at that point of time was to study hard and get a scholarship. I went ahead at full steam.

Trecutul e ca un câine care îţi rupe fără întrerupere turul, în timp ce pre­zentul este o potaie care te păcăleşte s-­o ţii în braţe, făcându-­te să uiţi viitorul - un ogar din rasa afgană. (Doina Ruști - Mâța Vinerii)

People think of our life as harsh, and of course in many ways it is. But going into the unknown world and confronting it without a single rupee in our pockets means that differences between rich and poor, educated and illiterate, all vanish, and a common humanity emerges. As wanderers, we monks and nuns are free of shadows from the past. This wandering life, with no material possessions, unlocks our souls. There is a wonderful sense of lightness, living each day as it comes, with no sense of ownership, no weight, no burden. Journey and destination became one, thought and action became one, until it is as if we are moving like a river into complete detachment.

Di colpo egli capì ciò che dicevano, capì il significato del mondo visibile allorché esso ci fa restare stupefatti e diciamo "che bello" e qualcosa di grande entra nell'animo nostro. Tutta la vita era vissuto senza sospettarne la causa. Tante volte era rimasto in ammirazione dinanzi a un paesaggio, a un monumento, a una piazza, a uno scorcio di strada, a un giardino, a un interno di chiesa, a una rupe, a un viottolo, a un deserto. Solo adesso, finalmente, si rendeva conto del segreto. Un segreto molto semplice: l'amore. Tutto ciò che ci affascina nel mondo inanimato, i boschi, le pianure, i fiumi, le montagne, i mari, le valli, le steppe, di più, di più, le città, i palazzi, le pietre, di più, il cielo, i tramonti, le tempeste, di più, la neve, di più, la notte, le stelle, il vento, tutte queste cose, di per sé vuote e indifferenti, si caricano di significato umano perché, senza che noi lo sospettiamo, contengono un presentimento d'amore.

Dopo vent'anni, Sandokan e Yanez finalmente sbarcavano sul loro isolotto che mai più avevano creduto di riconquistare. - Grazie, fratellino mio, - disse la Tigre della Malesia al portoghese, mentre si avviavano su per l'alta rupe ed i loro equipaggi e le bande disarmavano la guarnigione. - Questa rivincita la devo tutta a te! - Ba'! - rispose Yanez. - Cominciavo ad annoiarmi alla corte dell'Assam, quantunque adori la mia Surama. Ho preso tre mesi di vacanza e ti giuro che mi sono divertito.

A rupee invested in Page Industries’ IPO in March 2007 is worth Rs 34 presently (in April 2016), implying a compounded annual return of 47 per cent. That same rupee would be worth just Rs 2 if invested in the Sensex, implying a CAGR of 8 per cent. Thus

It fell into my cup with a clink, and no doubt I will be considered to have abandoned the last vestiges of humanness by those who do not understand the degree of my suffering when I say that it sounded to my ears like the music of a five-rupee coin dropped into a beggar’s cup. A

Mahatma Gandhi’s reading of the Vedas caused him to envision independent India as a collection of self-sufficient agrarian communities, each spinning its own khadi cloths, exporting little and importing even less. The most famous photograph of him shows him spinning cotton with his own hands, and he made the humble spinning wheel the symbol of the Indian nationalist movement.1 Yet this Arcadian vision was simply incompatible with the realities of modern economics, and hence not much has remained of it save for Gandhi’s radiant image on billions of rupee notes.

We got out of our car in Agra to be faced with 150 people and instantly knew that we were their target. We were white (we still are) and wealthy (in comparison). And these people are masters at the art of distraction. You’ll spot the one approaching from the left, but not the imminent threat from the right. And if you say no they have ways of making you say yes. We were greeted with, “Give me money” by street urchins, “Give me 20 rupees,” by a man in a ‘locker room’ looking after our camera equipment, and graceful, exquisite and amused smiles by some of the most magnificently beautiful women in the world. Ladies with coconut oil in their hair, eyes the colour of artisan’s gold, and spirituality in their hearts. And everywhere we went we were greeted with the Añjali Mudrā gesture and the word Namaste, indicating 'I bow to the divine in you.

But then my poor sons would have to be educated alongside Anglo-Indians. They’d have a chee-chee accent like their mother and be called ‘fifteen annas’ behind their backs, even if they were not Anglo-Indians.” There were sixteen annas to a rupee, and to be a Celeste was to be one short.

Whenever the sadness got too much, I would hire a rickshaw and go to the Upper Bazaar. Those little rickshaw trips to the market and back, shopping for lipsticks and imitation Gucci bags and wind-chimes and what not, are some of my happiest memories today. You know, one day, during one of those trips, I sold all my well-thumbed copies of ‘Inside Outside’ to the Tibetan guy who ran the old book store on Netaji Road for seventy rupees, six Tintins and a disarming smile. And all of a sudden, that moment, standing at the corner of Netaji road, I found out who I was.’ ('Left from Dhakeshwari')

If any of the big fish still want to file a defamation suit against me, I have a small request to make: please do not slap a lawsuit of Rs. 100 crore on me. By all means file a suit, but let it be in the range of sawa rupaya - one and a quarter rupee - after all, an offering of sawa rupaya is enough to please our gods.

In life we never know when a rainy day will come and you might fall short of money. In order to be prepared for such a situation, you should always save some money from your salary, and if you are not earning, then from your husband’s salary. If your salary is one thousand rupees take fifty or hundred rupees and keep it separately. This money should not be used for buying ornaments or silk saris. When you are young, you want to spend money and buy many things but remember, when you are in difficulty only few things will come to your help. Your courage, your ability to adjust to new situations and the money which you have saved. Nobody will come and help you.

She had short, thick forearms, fingers like cocktail sausages, and a broad fleshy nose with flared nostrils. Deep folds of skin connected her nose to either side of her chin, and separated that section of her face from the rest of it, like a snout. Her head was too large for her body. She looked like a bottled fetus that had escaped from its jar of formaldehyde in a Biology lab an unshriveled and thickened with age. She kept damp cash in her bodice, which she tied tightly around her chest to flatten her unchristian breasts, Her kunukku earrings were thick and gold. Her earlobes had been distended into weighted loops that swung around her neck, her earrings sitting in them like gleeful children in a merry-go-(not all the way)-round. Her right lobe had split open once and was sewn together by Dr. Verghese Verghese. Kochu Maria couldn't stop wearing her kunukku because if she did, how would people know that despite her lowly cook's job (seventy-five rupees a month) she was a Syrian Christian, Mar Thomite? Not a Pelaya, or a Pulaya, or a Paravan. But a Touchable, upper-caste Christian (into whom Christianity had seeped like tea from a teabag). Split lobes stitched back were a better option by far. Kochu Maria hadn't yet made her acquaintance with the television addict waiting inside her. The Hulk Hogan addict. She hadn't yet seen a television set...

SOMETIMES WHAT WE WANT BUT CANT GET IT, EVEN WE DO NOT TRY TO GET IT. AT LAST WE SATISFIED JUST FAILURE.

How many sepoys were brought by the Musalmans? How many Englishmen are there? Where, except in India, can be had millions of men who will cut the throats of their own fathers and brothers for six rupees? Sixty millions of Musalmans in seven hundred years of Mohammedan rule, and two millions of Christians in one hundred years of Christian rule - what makes it so?

Tante volte era rimasto in ammirazione di fronte a un paesaggio, a un monumento, a una piazza, a uno scorcio di strada, a un giardino, a un interno di chiesa, a una rupe, a un viottolo, a un deserto. Solo adesso, finalmente, si rendeva conto del segreto. Un segreto molto semplice: l'amore. Tutto ciò che ci affascina nel mondo inanimato, i boschi, le pianure, i fiumi, le montagne, i mari, le valli, le steppe, di più, di più, le città, i palazzi, le pietre, di più, il cielo, i tramonti, le tempeste, di più, la neve, di più, la notte, le stelle, il vento, tutte queste cose, di per sé vuote e indifferenti, si caricano di significato umano perché, senza che noi lo sospettiamo, contengono un presentimento d'amore. Quanto era stato stupido a non essersene mai accorto finora. Che interesse avrebbe una scogliera, una foresta, un rudere se non vi fosse implicata una attesa? E attesa di che se non di lei, della creatura che ci potrebbe fare felici? Che senso avrebbe la valle romantica tutta rupi e scorci misteriosi se il pensiero non potesse condurci lei in una passeggiata del tramonto tra flebili richiami di uccelli? Che senso la muraglia degli antichi faraoni se nell'ombra dello speco non potessimo fantasticare di un incontro? E l'angolo del borgo fiammingo che ci potrebbe importare o il caffè del 'boulevard' o il 'suk' di Damasco se non si potesse supporre che anche lei un giorno vi passerà, impigliandovi un lembo di vita? E l'erma cappelletta al bivio col suo lumino, perché avrebbe tanto patos se non vi fosse nascosta un'allusione? E a che cosa allusione se non a lei, alla creatura che ci potrebbe fare felici? [...] Le torri antiche, le nuvole, le cateratte, le enigmatiche tombe, il singhiozzo della risacca sullo scoglio, il piegarsi dei rami alla tempesta, la solitudine dei greti nel pomeriggio, tutto è un'indicazione precisa a lei, la donna nostra che ci incenerirà. Ogni cosa del mondo congiurando con le altre cose del mondo in complotto sapientissimo per promuovere la perpetuazione della specie. Era una intuizione così bella e geniale che in altre circostanze egli ne avrebbe avuto soddisfazione. Ma, proprio per la sua esattezza, oggi a lui procurava solamente dolore. L'espressione degli alberi fuggenti corrispondeva infatti alla condizione del suo amore; il quale era stolto e disperato. Egli correva in direzione di lei benché sapesse che laggiù lo aspettavano soltanto nuovi affanni, umiliazioni e lacrime. Ma lui correva a perdifiato ugualmente, il piede premuto con tutta la forza sul pedale, per la paura di perdere un minuto.

According to a 2015 Reason-Rupe survey, 53 percent of Americans under 30 admit to having a favorable view of socialism. Likewise, a 2016 Gallup poll found that an astounding 69 percent of Millennials say they would be willing to vote for a “socialist” presidential candidate. For comparison’s sake, roughly a third of their parents’ generation confess positive views toward socialism.

In the old days, farmers would keep a little of their home-made opium for their families, to be used during illnesses, or at harvests and weddings; the rest they would sell to the local nobility, or to pykari merchants from Patna. Back then, a few clumps of poppy were enough to provide for a household's needs, leaving a little over, to be sold: no one was inclined to plant more because of all the work it took to grow poppies - fifteen ploughings of the land and every remaining clod to be built; purchases of manure and constant watering; and after all that, the frenzy of the harvest, each bulb having to be individually nicked, drained and scrapped. Such punishment was bearable when you had a patch or two of poppies - but what sane person would want to multiply these labours when there were better, more useful crops to grow, like wheat, dal, vegetables? But those toothsome winter crops were steadily shrinking in acreage: now the factory's appetite for opium seemed never to be seated. Come the cold weather, the English sahibs would allow little else to be planted; their agents would go from home to home, forcing cash advances on the farmers, making them sign /asámi/ contracts. It was impossible to say no to them: if you refused they would leave their silver hidden in your house, or throw it through a window. It was no use telling the white magistrate that you hadn't accepted the money and your thumbprint was forged: he earned commissions on the oppium adn would never let you off. And, at the end of it, your earnings would come to no more than three-and-a-half sicca rupees, just about enough to pay off your advance.

Concepuseram impreuna un om si impreuna il vazuseram murind. Uneori aveam impresia ca exista o legatura fizica intre noi, o franghie lunga, intinsa intre Boston si Portland; cand ea tragea de capatul ei, simteam eu socul in capatul meu. Oriunde se ducea ea, oriunde mergeam eu, firul acela dublu era acolo, tras si intins, fara a se rupe insa vreodata, incat fiecare clipa ne reamintea de ceea ce nu puteam sa mai avem vreodata.

In fiecare clipă o trecere este pe vecie acea trecere. Semnificativ este faptul că există, şi existând (cum atât de clar se poate vedea când eşti îndrăgostit) este sinonim cu a Fi scris cu cel mai mare F posibil. De ce iubeşti femeia de care eşti îndrăgostit? Deoarece ea este. Şi aceasta-i la urma urmelor, propria definiţie a lui Dumnezeu despre sine: sunt cel ce sunt. Fata este cea care este. Ceva din acest «este» se revarsă şi impregnează întregul univers. Obiectele şi evenimentele încetează de a mai fi simple reprezentante ale unor categorii şi-şi dobândesc unicitatea; încetează de a mai fi ilustraţii ale abstracţiunilor verbale şi devin pe deplin concrete. Încetezi să mai fii îndrăgostit şi universul recade, cu un aproape perceptibil scârţâit de zeflemisire, în obişnuita-i nesemnificaţie. Ar putea rămâne vreodată transfigurat? Poate că da. Poate e o chestiune legată de iubirea pentru divinitate. Dar aceea nu este nici aici, nici acolo. Sau mai degrabă este unicul lucru care e fie aici, fie acolo, oriunde; dar dacă am spune asta toţi prietenii respectabili s-ar rupe de noi, ba poate am sfârşi într-un ospiciu.

We entered the Taj Mahal, the most romantic place on the planet, and possibly the most beautiful building on earth. We ate curry with our driver in a Delhi street café late at night and had the best chicken tikka I’ve ever tasted in an Agra restaurant. After the madness of Delhi, we were astonished that Agra could be even more mental. And we loved it. We marvelled at the architecture of the Red Fort, where Shah Jahan spent the last three years of his life, imprisoned and staring across at the Taj Mahal, the tomb of his favourite wife. We spent two days in a village constructed specifically for tiger safaris, although I didn’t see a tiger, my wife and son were more fortunate. We noticed in Mussoorie, 230 miles from the Tibetan border, evidence of Tibetan features in the faces of the Indians, and we paid just 770 rupees for the three of us to eat heartily in a Tibetan restaurant. Walking along the road accompanied by a cow became as common place as seeing a whole family of four without crash helmets on a motorcycle, a car going around a roundabout the wrong way, and cars approaching towards us on the wrong side of a duel carriageway. India has no traffic rules it seems.

Excelența voastră, doamnă despărțire, Uite, stăm alături clipe în neștire. O scrisoare aparte, stai, n-o rupe așa! N-am noroc în moarte. În iubire - da! Excelența voastră, doamnă-nstrăinare, Doar un strop, iubirea, arsă-mbrățișare. Printre mreje sparte, stai și nu chema. N-am noroc în moarte. În iubire - da! Excelența voastră, doamnă reușită, Bună pentru unii, de ceilalți hulită. Zece grame soartă, stai și n-o chema. N-am noroc în moarte. În iubire - da! Excelența voastră, doamnă biruință, Gândul pân-la capăt nu e cu putință Pe multe șoapte de sâni ce-ar jura: "N-am noroc în moarte. În iubire - da!

The Indian government spent millions of rupees annually developing housing and job opportunities in villages heavily inhabited by untouchables. Moreover, the prime minister said, if two applicants compete for entrance into a college or university, one of the applicants being an untouchable and the other of high caste, the school is required to accept the untouchable. Professor Lawrence Reddick, who was with me during the interview, asked: “But isn’t that discrimination?” “Well, it may be,” the prime minister answered. “But this is our way of atoning for the centuries of injustices we have inflicted upon these people.

Many people don’t realize this, but the Taj Mahal is a single mausoleum, designed, constructed, and maintained for one woman: Mumtaz Mahal, the favorite wife of Emperor Shah Jahan. The emperor was so distressed by the death of his beloved that he commissioned the construction of the Taj Mahal. He preserved her body for the more than twenty years it took to build (from 1632 to 1653); he spent thirty-two million rupees (nearly a billion dollars in today’s currency), and employed twenty thousand of the world’s greatest artisans, imported Italian marble (which was not an easy thing to do in seventeenth-century India—and not to mention that India had its own makrana marble he could have been using), all to create a private tomb worthy of his lost love.

We warily sipped ‘fresh’ buffalo milk in a Krishna temple. We travelled into the Himalayas until, at a height of two kilometres above sea level where we found ourselves surrounded by men as hard and tough as the mountains that bred them. We negotiated a price of 100 rupees for one of these men to carry our two heaviest bags the 15-minute walk to the hotel with nothing more than rope and a forehead strap. I paid him 300 rupees and his face lit up! We watched the morning mist clear to reveal views of the green Doon Valley and the distant white-capped Himalayan peaks. We rode an elephant up to the Amber Fort of Jaipur, and the next day we painted, washed and fed unpeeled bananas to another elephant, marvelling at her gentle nature as we placed the bananas on her huge bubble-gum coloured tongue.

there were solid gold and silver vessels and ornaments, crusted with gems, miles of jewel-sewn brocade, gorgeous pictures and statues that the troops just hacked and smashed, beautiful enamel and porcelain trampled underfoot, weapons and standards set with rubies and emeralds which were gouged and hammered from their settings—all this among the powder-smoke and blood, with native soldiers who’d never seen above ten rupees in their lives, and slum-ruffians from Glasgow and Liverpool, all staggering about drunk on plunder and killing and destruction. One thing I’m sure of: there was twice as much treasure destroyed as carried away, and we officers were too busy bagging our share to do anything about it. I daresay a philosopher would have made heavy speculation about that scene, if he’d had time to spare from filling his pockets. I

Oamenii cred că un suflet pereche este potrivesc perfect, și asta e ceea ce vrea toată lumea. Dar un adevărat suflet pereche este o oglinda, persoana care vă arată tot ceea ce va retine, persoana care te aduce la propriul atenție astfel încât să puteți schimba viata ta. Un adevărat suflet pereche este, probabil, cea mai importanta persoana pe care o vei întâlni vreodată, deoarece acestea dărâma zidurile tale și te pocnesc treaz. Dar pentru a trăi cu un suflet pereche pentru totdeauna? Nah. Prea dureros. Suflete pereche, ei vin în viața ta doar pentru a descoperi un alt strat de tine la tine, și apoi pleca. Un scop suflete pereche este de a vă scuture, despartă ego-ul un pic, arata ce obstacole si dependente, rupe inima deschisă atât de ușor nou poate obține în, te face atât de disperată și de control pe care va trebui să transforme dvs. viață, atunci vă prezint maestrul spiritual ...

Când ne ascundem fața-n palme și blestemăm clipa în care ne-am născut, ei nu vin bățoși spre noi să ne spună că ne-am făcut-o cu mâna noastră. Nici măcar nu se gândesc la vreun avertisment. Pur și simplu vin încetișor și-și lipesc capul de noi. Pisica ți se-așează pe umăr, îți ciufulește părul și-ți spune clar de parcă ar vorbi: - Vai, săracu' de tine, mi se rupe inima! Câinele te privește cu ochi mari și sinceri care-ți spun parcă: - Tu m-ai înțeles întotdeauna, știi bine! O s-o pornim în viață împreună și-o să fim mereu alături, nu-i așa? Câinele ăsta e tare imprudent. Niciodată nu-și pune în gând să afle dacă ai dreptate sau nu. Niciodată nu se sinchisește dacă urci sau cobori pe scara vieții. Niciodată nu se întreabă dacă ești bogat sau sărac, prost sau deștept, păcătos sau sfânt. Ești prietenul lui și ce vrei mai mult?! Lui i-ajunge atât. Vină ce-o veni, noroc sau nenorocire, nume bun sau rău, onoare sau rușine, el o să fie mereu lângă tine, să te mângâie, să te apere, să-și dea viața pentru tine, dacă e nevoie. Nătărăul ăsta de câine fără minte și suflet e-n stare de-așa ceva!

this earth, as a parent, as a lover, as a migrant, as a bird. And if we are to suspend our secular beliefs, even for half a paragraph, we can imagine the migrated souls of all the human ancestors presently at table, looking over their bloodline progeny gathered together over the familiarity of cabbage and fried rice and the unfamiliarity of a meat disk between two circular pieces of bread, happy as parents in a playground when all of the children assembled play together quietly and at peace, and no one’s young feelings are hurt, and everyone will go home still innocent. Of course, by the logic of fiction, we are at a high point now. This respite, this happy family, these four new lovers, this child slowly losing her shyness, all of this must be slated for destruction, no? Because if we were to simply leave them feasting and ecstatic, even as the less fortunate of the world fell deeper into despair, even as hundreds of thousands perished for lack of luck, lack of sympathy, lack of rupees, would we be just in our distribution of happiness? And so we sigh, cross ourselves, mumble the Kaddish, perform our pujas and wudu, all in preparation for the inevitable, which, in this case, comes with the crunch of gravel down the driveway.

India is triply disadvantaged. As in many other societies, we suffer from the “head versus hand” hierarchy, which ascribes higher status to purely mental work over work that requires physical labour. In India, that hierarchy is also encoded in caste, with mental labour assigned to dominant castes and physical labour assigned to oppressed ones. A widely held Western idea of art is to restrict anything utilitarian to the realm of craft, says Sainath. ‘A product of craft is something which has constant and wide replication, a specific use, plus a restricted number of patterns. The main differentiation made by many is to look at art as creative, and craft—even when highly skilled—as mechanical and unthinking.

Na nepokošenoj livadi koju od zasađenih polja i oranica dijeli, poput ravnala polegnut potok, u visokoj travi leži odbačen bicikl. Malo dalje, ispod mosta preko kojeg vozi rijedak promet prema Vojniću, zaklonjeni zavjesom od korova i opojnih trava, stoje Robert i Sofija. Razgovaraju zaneseno, povremeno se dotičući prstima, a onda se Robert ohrabri i primi je za ruku. Ona ga promatra kroz guste trepavice pogledom od kojeg Robertu drhte noge pa mu se čini kao da će se svakog časa srušiti. U njegovu izrazu zrcali se dječačka želja otežana osjećajima koje dotad nije iskusio. Sve emocije koje su djevojčice ikad pobudile u njemu stanu na vršak igle koja ga u ovom trenutku svom dužinom bjesomučno ubada u srce i ponire u želudac. U Sofijinim očima blista želja odrasle žene, odavno iskušana i jasna samosvijest koja ne ostavlja mjesta sumnjama. Robert iz sportske torbe izvlači trenirku dugih rukava, klekne na travu pa od nje napravi prostirku. Sofija se spusti, odbaci trenirku u stranu pa Roberta povuče na sebe. Zamršenih tijela ljube se i valjaju po travi koja se povija pod njima. Robertovo uzbuđenje u nekoliko navrata presiječe bojazan, pa kratko zastane i ogleda se pazeći da mu se uz tijelo ne uspne kakav mrav ili bubamara, no Sofija ga dlanovima prima za lice, gleda ga pogledom od kojeg mu se čini kako više ne postoje ni trava, ni insekti, ni promet koji povremeno zatrese most iznad njih. Ništa više ne postoji osim djevojčinog oblog tijela, istovremeno mekanog i čvrstog pod dodirom. Njegovi dlanovi isprva joj nježno i sporo zamiču pod haljinu i tamo istražuju njezinu kožu. Čini to oprezno dok ga istovremeno opsjeda zebnja da ne napravi nešto zbog čega će se djevojka predomisliti i pobjeći. No onda se ona iznenada nađe iznad Roberta i zarobi ga svojim bedrima. Njegov dodir postane grublji i čvršći, ona jednim potezom povuče haljinu koja joj preko ramena klizne do pojasa, hvata njegove dlanove i privija ih na svoje grudi. I odjednom, sve što je Robertu ikad bilo važno, ne znači mu više od prebijene pare. Dok sluša njezin dah i svoj usklađuje s njim, svud oko njih livada gori. S obzora sunce iz jantarnog vrča razlijeva suton tako da se visoke trave natapaju u zlatu. Večernji povjetarac ljulja crvene makove glave, a oni kao da odobravaju svu slobodu koju si je dvoje mladih ikad poželjelo, kimaju čaškama jedni prema drugima dok ugoda poput smole klizi naježenom kožom koja bridi. Miris mladih tijela miješa se s aromom bilja. Dalekovodi bacaju sve duže sjene. Žice pod naponom napete su, bruje i otimaju uzdahe pa ih nose do nakraj svijeta. Njih čuju zečevi koji bježe u vlažne rupe pod zemljom, pa tamo skutreni trepere do jutra.

Am ranit si am fost ranit, Apoi am vrut sa invat si am invatat ca asta nu se termina niciodata daca vrei sa fii om." "...ce-i care-si ascund adevarata natura risca sa uite de ea si sfarsesc prin a fi altcineva." " - Ti-e dor de trecut? - Da. - De ce? - Trecutul e sigur. Acolo nu mi se mai poate intampla nimic. - Eu iubesc prezentul. - De ce? - E imprevizibil. - Vezi? Suntem diferiti... Ce iubesti la mine? - Tot ce nu pot fi eu..." " - Pai si...iertati-ma.. din ce traiti? - Am copii, - Ah.. Misto. Pai si cu ce v-ati ocupat? Ce meserie aveati? - M-am ocupat cu fericirea." "Mama ta este aici si acolo. Mama ta este viata si inainte de viata." "Copiii sunt mai aproape de Dumnezeu, pentru ca ei nu se indoiesc. Indoiala vine cu varsta. ...Oare unde ne pierdem harul? Unde se rupe firul care, odata intrerupt naste indoiala? Sunt multe raspunsuri, stiu. Prea multe corecte, niciunul adevarat." "Nu alergati dupa bani cu orice pret. Banii trebuie sa va fie doar mijloc, nu scop. Scopul vostru trebuie sa fie cunoasterea. Cu cat veti sti mai multe, cu atat veti fi mai inalti. Orice carte citita, orice lectie invatata se va aseza sub voi si va va ridica deasupra celorlalti. Veti domina cu mintea. Nu e nimic mai frumos decat asta." "Poate ca iubirea e atunci cand, dupa ce ai stins lumina la baie si ti-ai vazut ochii obositi in oglinda, alti ochi ii privesc pe ai tai de undeva din intunericul apropiat. Si esti impacat cu asta si nu mai tanjesti dupa nimic altceva." "Intelegerea nevoilor reale ale persoanei iubite, asta este pariul unei relatii. Sa mergi adanc in sufletul celui langa care traiesti si sa nu transformi o relatie intr-o mecanica a sabloanelor..." "Iubirea incepe cu intrebari simple pe care le rostim si sfarseste cu intrebari la fel de simple pe care nu le punem niciodata." " - Da' de ce nu-si spun nimic? Stau asa lipiti si-si amesteca mainile... - Sunt la inceput, astia doi. Abia s-au cunoscut. N-au curaj sa-si spuna lucruri si lasa mainile sa vorbeasca pentru ei." "Cel mai frumos lucru al dumnezeirii este ca Dumnezeu se afla si in sufletele celor care il contesta, fara ca acestia sa i se poata opune." "Ati vazut filmele alea in care oamenii, ca sa se razbune, mai trag niste gloante in cadavrul dusmanului lor, desi stiu ca acesta e mort? Ei bine, oricate gloante ai descarca in cadavrul unei iubiri pierdute, n-o sa-ti potolesti setea..." "Esti singur in vartejul suferintei tale si daca vrei sa iesi trebuie sa tragi aer in piept si sa te scufunzi pana se sfarseste. Mai degraba iubeste-o pana cand iubirea ti se face apa si se scurge prin toti porii. Iubeste-o in absenta. Va fi ca si cum te-ai arunca de nebun intr-un zid. De sute, de mii de ori. Neclintit, zidul iti va rupe oasele, pielea ti-o vei zdreli, iti vei sfasia hainele pana cand te vei fi prelins in praful de la poalele lui. Un somn lung te va cuprinde, apoi te vei trezi ca dupa un cosmar pe care vei incerca sa-l rememorezi. Soarele diminetii nu-ti va da timp si vei uita. Cu fiecare zi care va trece, vei mai fi uitat putin cate putin... Vindeca-te singur. E tot ce poti face pentru tine.

at the seat. Instead of blowing his top, he picked me up in his arms and said, "You did it?" I nodded, "Yes I did it!" "But, look son." He tried to explain, "I can't go out with a bottomless pajama — I am a man". I whispered, "And so am I". He just stared, and embraced me. And from that day I got proper pajamas to wear. Dad was a great friend, a very understanding and loving person. Time flies fast — my father's leave was almost over, but the construction work still remained incomplete. He had to go back to Amritsar to resume his duties, and my mother badly needed more money. Two days before his departure he took a loan of Rs. 1,500 from a friend, a Zargar (ornament maker), to somehow finish the construction work, and mortgaged our part of the haveli for this amount. This Rs. 1,500 brought a lot of trouble and hardship to the family as the interest for the loan went on adding. My father resigned his job as a postman and searched for a new clerical job. He did his best to pay off the loan; he but could not. Destiny's smile had changed into a fearsome frown. Soon my little sister Guro was born. While my father slogged in Amritsar to support the family and pay the monthly interest, my mother and grandmother somehow managed to survive. I fell sick, very very sick and the chubby child was soon a bundle of bones. The fair skin was tarnished and looked quite dusky. The handsome Kidar Nath became an ugly urchin. Lack of nourishment also made me a dull boy. The only thought that kept me alive was that my father was my best friend, and that I must stand by my best friend and help him to surmount his difficulties. Having found a tenant for the rebuilt Haveli, we all moved to Amritsar. Across our house lived a shop-keeper known for being a miser. He called a carpenter to fix the main door to his dwelling, because the top of the frame had cracked. A robust argument ensued because the shop-keeper would pay only half a rupee, while the carpenter wanted one. His reason being that an appropriate piece of wood had to be cut to match the area being repaired and then he would have to level the surfaces at a very awkward angle. But the owner was adamant and said, "Just nail the piece of wood, do not level it or do any fancy work, because I shall pay you only half a rupee", as he walked away in a huff.

Priceless saris belonging to the royal ladies, all heavily embroidered with gold thread and encrusted with pearls, were sold for as little as twenty-five rupees!

But less than a century and a half later, this Mughal empire was in a state of collapse after the spectacular sacking of Delhi by the Persian Nadir Shah in 1739 and the loot of all its treasures. The Mughal capital was pillaged and burned over eight long weeks; gold, silver, jewels and finery, worth over 500 million rupees, were seized, along with the entire contents of the imperial treasury and the emperor’s fabled Peacock Throne; elephants and horses were commandeered; and 50,000 corpses littered the streets. It is said that when Nadir Shah and his forces returned home, they had stolen so much from India that all taxes were eliminated in Persia for the next three years.

but we are still vulnerable to the vagaries of the global economic turbulence because of an excess of imports and reduced exports, leading to trade deficit, increased current account deficit—which leads to inflation—and the depreciation of the rupee to 60.49 per US dollar in June 2013.

The manipulation of currency, throughout a feature of the colonial enterprise, reached its worst during the Great Depression of 1929–30, when Indian farmers (like those in the North American prairies) grew their grain but discovered no one could afford to buy it. Agricultural prices collapsed, but British tax demands did not; and cruelly, the British decided to restrict India’s money supply, fearing that the devaluation of Indian currency would cause losses to the British from a corresponding decline in the sterling value of their assets in India. So Britain insisted that the Indian rupee stay fixed at 1 shilling sixpence, and obliged the Indian government to take notes and coins out of circulation to keep the exchange rate high. The total amount of cash in circulation in the Indian economy fell from some 5 billion rupees in 1929 to 4 billion in 1930 and as low as 3 billion in 1938. Indians starved but their currency stayed high, and the value of British assets in India was protected.

În felul acesta am învățat că nici lupta nu o poți duce decât cu voioșie, eu cel puțin numai așa pot să lupt, chiar dacă voioșia n-ar fi decât un haz de necaz, o autoironie care ricoșează, iar fața n-ar exprima altă mulțumire decât aceea pe care o are un copil când, strâmbându-se și scâncind, dar neputând rezista ispitei, își rupe totuși coaja de pe rană.

Death by hanging – how horrible! And as if killing me wasn’t enough, they’d also said I had to pay a fine of 300,000 rupees! I’ve never had that much money and never will. Why are they doing this to me? Am I supposed to pay to have myself killed?

The one who pursues a goal of even-mindedness is neither jubilant with gain nor depressed by loss. He knows that man arrives penniless in this world, and departs without a single rupee.

The average poverty line in the fifty countries where most of the poor live is 16 Indian rupees per person per day. 2 People who live on less than that are considered to be poor by the government of their own countries. At the current exchange rate, 16 rupees corresponds to 36 U.S. cents. But because prices are lower in most developing countries, if the poor actually bought the things they do at U.S. prices, they would need to spend more—99 cents. So to imagine the lives of the poor, you have to imagine having to live in Miami or Modesto with 99 cents per day for almost all your everyday needs (excluding housing). It is not easy—in India, for example, the equivalent amount would buy you fifteen smallish bananas, or about 3 pounds of low- quality rice. Can one live on that? And yet, around the world, in 2005, 865 million people (13 percent of the world’s population) did.

NRIs are allowed to invest in exchange traded derivatives out of rupee funds held in India on a non-repatriation basis in all exchange trade derivative contracts subject to the limit given by SEBI. However, an NRI is required to notify to the exchange the names of the Clearing Member/s through whom he would clear his derivative trades. NRIs are not allowed to invest in any derivative instrument that is not traded on exchanges.

Loans NRIs can give loans to resident Indians on a repatriable or non-repatriable basis. NRIs can also receive loans from residents. Loan from NRIs in foreign currency or on a repatriable basis A resident Indian can borrow up to US dollars 250,000 from NRI close relatives on a repatriation basis i.e. on repayment, the NRI can credit the funds in an NRE account and take this money back without any restrictions. The NRI should be a close relative of the borrower. Please check ‘Who is your relative’ for details. The amount of loan should be received by an inward remittance or by debit to the NRE/FCNR account. The loan should be a minimum of 1 year and without any interest. The funds cannot be used for agricultural/plantation/real estate business or for relending. Income: As the loan should be interest-free, no income can be generated. Taxability: As there is no income, there is no tax. Loan from NRIs in Indian rupees or on a non-repatriable basis A resident, not being a company incorporated in India, may borrow in rupees from an NRI on a non- repatriation basis. The period of loan should be 3 years or less and the rate of interest should not exceed 2% over the prevailing bank rate at the time of the loan. The loan has to be utilized for meeting the borrower’s personal requirement or for his business purposes. The funds cannot be used for agricultural/plantation/real estate business or for relending or for investment in shares, securities or immovable property. For example, Ms. Isumati has given an unsecured loan to her father’s firm earning 15% interest. If she goes to the UK for further studies and becomes an NRI, while she may continue with the loan, RBI rules would apply. The funds cannot be used for real estate business and if the bank rate is 10%, she cannot be paid more than 12% interest on her loan. Her father would also need to deduct TDS @ 30.9% on the interest. Income: Income from loans given to residents is interest. Taxability: The interest income on loans given is taxable for NRIs. Loans to NRIs NRIs are allowed to borrow from a bank/authorized

After all, millions of people in India live on less than a dollar a day, converted at the PPP exchange rate of about 22 rupees per dollar, and the whole point of these exchange rates is to equalize purchasing power across countries. So if people can live in India on 22 rupees a day—and be far from the worst off—why can’t people in the United States live on a dollar a day?

American family of four could buy enough cheap foods—like bulk rice, oatmeal, beans, and a few vegetables—to survive on $1,460 a year; one recent paper has priced out a “bare-bones” bundle for the United States at around $1.25 a person a day, or $1,825 a year for a family of four.14 Advocates of the validity of the line can also note, correctly, that 22 rupees a day buys a miserable life in India too, and that poor people and their children in India, if not hungry on a daily basis, are among the most malnourished in the world.

We the Indians are becoming stronger. Not long time back we required at least two strong young men to carry groceries worth Rs 200. But times change. Now a five year old boy can effortlessly carry items worth same two hundred rupees.

The rupee becomes cheap [of less value] and is that why man becomes expensive [valuable] and when the rupee becomes expensive, man becomes cheap. At present, man has become cheap; he will become expensive again.

Oprosti i halali, kome možeš i koliko možeš, jer veliki ljudi se ne svete radi sebe i svog hatora, ali isto tako nemoj dopustiti da budeš ujeden dva puta iz iste rupe. Udalji se od ljudi koji mogu biti sebebom da pogriješiš prema Allahu.