Be Happy and Dont Hurt Others

At the end of this story, it gives you two options. I think you will figure out what option I chose.

A cold March wind danced around the dead of night in Dallas as the doctor walked into the small hospital room of Diana Blessing. She was still groggy from surgery.

Her husband, David, held her hand as they braced themselves for the latest news.
That afternoon of March 10, 1991, complications had forced Diana, only 24-weeks pregnant, to undergo an emergency Cesarean to deliver couple’s new daughter, Dana Lu Blessing.

At 12 inches long and weighing only one pound nine ounces, they already knew she was perilously premature.
Still, the doctor’s soft words dropped like bombs.

“I don’t think she’s going to make it,” he said, as kindly as he could.

“There’s only a 10-percent chance she will live through the night, and even then, if by some slim chance she does make it, her future could be a very cruel one”

Numb with disbelief, David and Diana listened as the doctor described the devastating problems Dana would likely face if she survived.

She would never walk, she would never talk, she would probably be blind, and she would certainly be prone to other catastrophic conditions from cerebral palsy to complete mental retardation, and on and on.

“No! No!” was all Diana could say.

She and David, with their 5-year-old son Dustin, had long dreamed of the day they would have a daughter to become a family of four.

Now, within a matter of hours, that dream was slipping away

But as those first days passed, a new agony set in for David and Diana. Because Dana’s underdeveloped nervous system was essentially ‘raw’, the lightest kiss or caress only intensified her discomfort, so they couldn’t even cradle their tiny baby girl against their chests to offer the strength of their love.

All they could do, as Dana struggled alone beneath the ultraviolet light in the tangle of tubes and wires, was to pray that God would stay close to their precious little girl.

There was never a moment when Dana suddenly grew stronger.

But as the weeks went by, she did slowly gain an ounce of weight here and an ounce of strength there.

At last, when Dana turned two months old. her parents were able to hold her in their arms for the very first time.

And two months later, though doctors continued to gently but grimly warn that her chances of surviving, much less living any kind of normal life, were next to zero, Dana went home from the hospital, just as her mother had predicted.

Five years later, when Dana was a petite but feisty young girl with glittering gray eyes and an unquenchable zest for life.

She showed no signs whatsoever of any mental or physical impairment. Simply, she was everything a little girl can be and more. But that happy ending is far from the end of her story.

One blistering afternoon in the summer of 1996 near her home in Irving, Texas, Dana was sitting in her mother’s lap in the bleachers of a local ball park where her brother Dustin’s baseball team was practicing.

As always, Dana was chattering nonstop with her mother and several other adults sitting nearby when she suddenly fell silent. Hugging her arms across her chest, little Dana asked, “Do you smell that?”

Smelling the air and detecting the approach of a thunderstorm, Diana replied, “Yes, it smells like rain.”

Dana closed her eyes and again asked, “Do you smell that?”

Once again, her mother replied, “Yes, I think we’re about to get wet. It smells like rain.”

Still caught in the moment, Dana shook her head, patted her thin shoulders with her small hands and loudly announced,
“No, it smells like Him.

It smells like God when you lay your head on His chest.”

Tears blurred Diana’s eyes as Dana happily hopped down to play with the other children.

Before the rains came, her daughter’s words confirmed what Diana and all the members of the extended Blessing family had known, at least in their hearts, all along.

During those long days and nights of her first two months of her life, when her nerves were too sensitive for them to touch her, God was holding Dana on His chest and it is His loving scent that she remembers so well.

I pass through this very intersection every morning with so much ease. Today, the
pace is skewed. There is a sense of disarray as motorists try to push past each other
through the traffic light. The light here always tests their agility because if you miss
the green, you have to wait for another three minutes before it lets you go past
again. Those three minutes become eternity for an otherwise time-insensitive nation
on the move. Today, there is a sense of chaos here. People are honking, skirting
each other and rushing past. I look out of my window to seek the reason. It is not
difficult to find because it is lying strewn all over the place.
A tomato seller’s cart has overturned. There are tomatoes everywhere and the
rushing motorists are making pulp of it. The man is trying to get his cart back on its
four rickety wheels and a few passersby are picking up what they can in an attempt
to save him total loss. Though symbolic in the larger scheme of things, it is not a
substantive gesture. His business for the day is over.
The way this man’s economics works is very simple. There is a money lender who
lends him money for just one day, at an interest rate of Rs 10 per day per Rs 100
lent. With the money, he wakes up at 4 am to go to the wholesale market for
vegetables. He returns, pushing his cart a good five miles, and by 7 am when the
locality wakes up, he is ready to sell his day’s merchandise. By the end of the
morning, some of it remains unsold. This his wife sells by the afternoon and takes
home the remainder, which becomes part of his meal. With the day’s proceeds, he
returns the interest to the money lender and goes back to the routine the next day.
If he does
not sell for a day, his chain breaks.
Where does he go from here? He goes back to the money lender, raises capital at
an even more penal interest and gets back on his feet. This is not the only time that
destiny has upset his tomato cart. This happens to him at least six times every year.
Once he returned with a loaded cart of ripe tomatoes and it rained heavily for the
next three days. No one came to the market and his stock rotted in front of his own
eyes. Another time, instead of the weather, it was a political rally that snowballed
into a confrontation between two rival groups and the locality closed down. And he is
not alone in this game of extraneous factors that seize not only his business but also
his life. He sees this happen to the “gol-gappa” seller, the peanut seller and the
“vada pao” seller all the time. When their product does not sell, it just turns soggy.
Sometimes they eat some of it. But how much of that stuff can you eat by yourself?
So, they just give away some and there is always that one time when they have to
simply throw it away.
Away from the street-vendor selling perishable commodity with little or no life
support system, the corporate world is an altogether different place. Here we have
some of the most educated people in the country. We don the best garbs. We do not
have to push carts; our carts push us. We have our salary, perquisites, bonuses,
stock options, gratuities, pensions and our medical insurance and the group accident
benefit schemes. Yet, all the while, we worry about our risks and think about our
professional insecurity. We wonder, what would happen if the company shifted
offices to another city? What would happen if the department closed down? What
would happen if you were to take maternity leave and the temporary substitute
delivered better work than you did? What would happen if the product line you are
dealing with simply failed? In any of those eventualities, the worst that could happen
would still be a lot less than having to see your cartful of tomatoes getting pulped
under the screeching wheels of absolute strangers who have nothing personal
against you.
All too often we exaggerate our risks. We keep justifying our professional concerns
till they trap us in their vicious downward spiral. Devoid of education, sophisticated
reasoning and any financial safety net, the man with the cart is often able to deal
with life much better than many of us. Is it time to look out of the window, into the
eyes of that man to ask him, where does he get it from? In his simple stoicism, is
probably, our lost resilience.

A Bitter Reality

As the dream of most parents I had acquired a degree in
Software Engineering and joined a company based in USA, the
land of braves and opportunity. When I arrived in the USA, it
was as if a dream had come true.

Here at last I was in the place where I want to be. I decided I
would be staying in this country for about Five years in which
time I would have earned enough money to settle down in India.

My father was a government employee and after his retirement,
the only asset he could acquire was a decent one bedroom apt.

I wanted to do some thing more than him. I started feeling
homesick and lonely as the time passed. I used to call home and
speak to my parents every week using cheap international phone
cards. Two years passed, two years of fast food at McDonald’s and
pizzas  and 2 years watching the foreign exchange
rate getting happy whenever the Rupee value went down.

Finally I decided to get married. Told my parents that I have
only 10 days of holidays and everything must be done within
these 10 days. I got my ticket booked in the cheapest flight.
Was jubilant and was actually enjoying hopping for gifts for
all my friends back home. If I miss anyone then there will be
talks. After reaching home I spent home one week going through
all the photographs of girls and as the time was getting
shorter I was forced to select one candidate.

In-laws told me, to my surprise, that I would have to get
married in 2-3 days, as I will not get anymore holidays. After
the marriage, it was time to return to USA, after giving some
money to my parents and telling the neighbors to look after
them, we returned to USA.

My wife enjoyed this country for about two months and then she
started feeling lonely. The frequency of calling India
increased to twice in a week sometimes 3 times a week. Our
savings started diminishing.

After two more years we started to
have kids. Two lovely kids, a boy and a girl, were gifted to us
by the almighty. Every time I spoke to my parents, they asked
me to come to India so that they can see their grand-children.

Every year I decide to go to India… But part work part
monetary conditions prevented it. Years went by and visiting
India was a distant dream. Then suddenly one day I got a
message that my parents were seriously sick. I tried but I
couldn’t get any holidays and thus could not go to India … The
next message I got was my parents had passed away and as there
was no one to do the last rights the society members had done
whatever they could. I was depressed. My parents had passed
away without seeing their grand children.

After couple more years passed away, much to my children’s
dislike and my wife’s joy we returned to India to settle down.
I started to look for a suitable property, but to my dismay my
savings were short and the property prices had gone up during
all these years. I had to return to the USA…

My wife refused to come back with me and my children refused to
stay in India… My 2 children and I returned to USA after
promising my wife I would be back for good after two years.

Time passed by, my daughter decided to get married to an
American and my son was happy living in USA… I decided that
had enough and wound-up every thing and returned to India… I
had just enough money to buy a decent 02 bedroom APT in a
well-developed locality.

Now I am 60 years old and the only time I go out of the APT is
for the routine visit to the nearby temple. My faithful wife
has also left me and gone to the holy abode.

Sometimes

I wondered was it worth all this?

My father, even after staying in India,

Had a house to his name and I too have
the same nothing more.

I lost my parents and children for just ONE EXTRA BEDROOM.

Looking out from the window I see a lot of children dancing.
This damned cable TV has spoiled our new generation and these
children are losing their values and culture because of it. I
get occasional cards from my children asking I am alright. Well
at least they remember me.

Now perhaps after I die it will be the neighbors again who will
be performing my last rights, God Bless them.

But the question
still remains ‘was all this worth it?’

I am still searching for an answer……………….!!!

START THINKING

IS IT JUST FOR ONE EXTRA BEDROOM???

It was an unusually cold day for the month of May. Spring had arrived and everything was alive with color. But a cold front from the north had brought winter’s chill back to Indiana. I sat with two friends in the picture window of a quaint restaurant just off the corner of the town square. The food and the company were both especially good that day. As we talked, my attention was drawn outside, across the street. There, walking into town, was a man who appeared to be carrying all his worldly goods on his back. He was carrying a well-worn sign that read, “I will work for food.” My heart sank. I brought him to the attention of my friends and noticed that others around us had stopped eating to focus on him. Heads moved in a mixture of sadness and disbelief. We continued with our meal, but his image lingered in my mind. We finished our meal and went our separate ways. I had errands to do and quickly set out to accomplish them. I glanced toward the town square, looking somewhat halfheartedly for the strange visitor. I was fearful, knowing that seeing him again would call some response. I drove through town and saw nothing of him. I made some purchases at a store and got back in my car. Deep within me, the Spirit of God kept speaking to me: “Don’t go back to the office until you’ve at least driven once more around the square.” And so, with some hesitancy, I headed back into town. As I turned the square’s third corner, I saw him. He was standing on the steps of the storefront church, going through his sack. I stopped and looked, feeling both compelled to speak to him, yet wanting to drive on. The empty parking space on the corner seemed to be a sign from God: an invitation to park. I pulled in, got out and approached the town’s newest visitor. “Looking for the pastor?” I asked. “Not really,” he replied, “Just resting.” “Have you eaten today?” “Oh, I ate something early this morning. Do you have some work I could do for you?” “No work, sorry” I replied. “I commute here to work from the city, but I would like to take you to lunch.” “Sure,” he replied with a smile. As he began to gather his things, I asked some surface questions. “Where are you headed?” “St. Louis.” “Where have you come from?” “Oh, all over; mostly Florida.” “My! How long’ve you been walking?” “Fourteen years!” came the reply. I knew I had met someone unusual. We sat across from each other in the same restaurant I had left earlier. His face was weathered slightly beyond his 38 years. His eyes were dark yet clear, and he spoke with an eloquence and articulation that was startling. He removed his jacket to reveal a bright red T-shirt that said, “Jesus is The Never Ending Story.” I hadn’t expected that!! Then Daniel’s story began to unfold. He had seen rough times early in life. He’d made some wrong choices and reaped the consequences. Fourteen years earlier, while backpacking across the country, he had stopped on the beach in Daytona. He tried to hire on with some men who were putting up a large tent and some equipment. A concert, he thought. He was hired, but the tent was not to house a concert but revival services, and in those services he saw life more clearly. He gave his life over to God. “Nothing’s been the same since”, he said, “I felt the Lord telling me to keep walking, and so I did, some 14 years now.” “Ever think of stopping?” I asked. “Oh, once in a while, when it seems to get the best of me. But God has given me this calling. I give out Bibles. That’s what’s in my sack. I work to buy food and Bibles, and I give them out when His Spirit leads.” I sat amazed. My homeless friend was not homeless. He was on a mission and lived this way by choice. The question burned inside for a moment and then I asked: “What’s it like?” “What?” “To walk into a town carrying all your things on your back and to show your sign?” “Oh, it was humiliating at first. People would stare and make comments. Once someone tossed a piece of half-eaten bread and made a gesture that certainly didn’t make me feel welcome. But then it became humbling to realize that God was using me to touch lives and change people’s concepts of other folks like me.” My concept was changing, too. We finished our dessert and gathered his things. Just outside the door, he paused. He turned to me and said, “Come ye blessed of my Father and inherit the kingdom I’ve prepared for you. For when I was hungry you gave me food, when I was thirsty you gave me drink, a stranger and you took me in.” I felt as if we were on holy ground - we probably were! “Could you use another Bible?” I asked. He said he preferred a particular translation. It traveled well and was not too heavy. It was also his personal favorite. “I’ve read through it 14 times,” he said. “I’m not sure we’ve got one of those, but let’s stop by our church and see.” I was able to find my new friend a Bible that would do well, and he seemed very grateful. “Where are you headed from here?” “I found a star on this little map on the back of an amusement park coupon.” “Are you hoping to find some work there for awhile?” “No, I just figure I should go. I reckon someone under that star right there needs a Bible, so that’s where I’m going next.” He smiled, and the warmth of his spirit radiated the sincerity of his mission. I drove him back to the town square where we’d met two hours earlier, and as we drove, it started raining. We parked and unloaded his things. “Would you sign my autograph book?” he asked. “I like to keep messages from folks I meet.” I wrote in his little book that his commitment to his calling had touched my life. I encouraged him to stay strong. And I left him with a verse of scripture, in Jeremiah, “I know the plans I have for you,” declared the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you a future and a hope.” “Thanks, man,” he said. “I know we just met and we’re really just strangers, but I love you.” “I know,” I said, “I love you, too.” “The Lord is good.” “Yes. He is. How long has it been since someone hugged you?” I asked. “It’s been a while!” he replied, smiling. And so on the busy street corner in the drizzling rain, my new friend and I embraced, and I felt deep inside that I had been changed. He put his things on his back, smiled his winning smile and said, “See you in the New Jerusalem.” “I’ll be there!” was my reply. He began his journey again. He headed away with his sign dangling from his bed roll and pack of Bibles. He stopped, turned and said, “When you see something that makes you think of me, will you pray for me?” “You bet,” I shouted back, “God bless.” “God bless.” And that was the last I saw of him. Late that evening as I left my office, the wind blew strong. The cold front had settled hard upon the town. I bundled up and hurried to my car. As I sat back and reached for the handbrake, I saw them….a pair of well-worn brown work gloves neatly laid over the length of the handle. I picked them up and thought of my friend and wondered if his hands would stay warm that night without them. I remembered his words: “If you see something that makes you think of me, will you pray for me?” Today his gloves lie on my desk in my office. They help me to see the world and its people in a new way, and they help me remember those two hours with my unique friend and to pray for his ministry. “See you in the New Jerusalem,” he said. Yes, Daniel, I know I will, I’m looking forward to it! (Daniel’s Story is true. It was shared with us by Pastor Richard Ryan of Sellersburg, Indiana, USA. He met Daniel as described in 1993 when he was pastoring a Church in Corydon, IN., USA)

The cheerful little girl with bouncy golden curls was almost five years old.

Waiting with her mother at the checkout stand at the stores, she saw them, a circle of glistening white pearls in a pink foil box on the counter.

“Oh mommy please, Mommy. Can I have them? Please, Mommy, please.”

Quickly the mother checked the back of the little foil box and then looked back into the pleading blue eyes of her little girl’s upturned face;

“A dollar ninety-five. That’s almost $2.00. If you really want them, I’ll think of some extra chores for you and in no time you can save enough money to buy them for yourself. Your birthday’s only a week away and you might get another crisp dollar bill from Grandma.”

As soon as Jenny got home, she emptied her penny bank and counted out 17pennies.
After dinner, she did more than her share of chores and she went to the neighbor and asked Mrs. McJames if she could pick dandelions for ten cents. On her birthday, Grandma did give her another new dollar bill and at last she had enough money to buy the necklace.

Jenny loved her pearls. They made her feel dressed up and grown up.

She wore them everywhere, Sunday school, kindergarten, even to bed.

The only time she took them off was when she went swimming or had a bubble bath.

Mother said if they got wet, they might turn her neck green.

Jenny had a very loving daddy and every night when she was ready for bed, he would stop whatever he was doing and come upstairs to read her a story.

One night as he finished the story, he asked Jenny, “Do you love me?”
“Oh yes, daddy. You know that I love you.”

“Then give me your pearls.”

“Oh, daddy, not my pearls. But you can have Princess, the white horse from my collection, the one with the pink tail. Remember, daddy? The one you gave me. She’s my very favorite.”

“That’s okay, Honey, daddy loves you. Good night” And he brushed her cheek with a kiss.

About a week later, after the story time, Jenny’s daddy asked again, “Do you love me?”

“Daddy, you know I love you.Then give me your pearls. Oh Daddy, not my pearls. But you can have my baby doll. The brand new one I got for my birthday. She is beautiful and you can have the yellow blanket that matches her sleeper.”

“That’s okay. Sleep well. God bless you, little one. Daddy loves you.” And as always, he brushed her cheek with a gentle kiss.

A few nights later when her daddy came in, Jenny was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed Indian style.
As he came close, he noticed her chin was trembling and one silent tear rolled down her cheek. “What is it, Jenny? What’s the matter?” Jenny didn’t say anything but lifted her little hand up to her daddy.

And when she opened it, there was her little pearl necklace. With a little quiver, she finally said, “Here, daddy;this is for you.”

With tears gathering in his own eyes, Jenny’s daddy reached out with one hand to take the cheap dime store necklace, and with the other hand he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue velvet case with a strand of genuine pearls and gave them to Jenny.He had them all the time. He was just waiting for her to give up the dime-store stuff so he could give her the genuine treasure.

So it is, with our Heavenly Father. HE IS WAITING FOR US TO GIVE UP THE CHEAP THINGS IN OUR LIVES SO THAT HE CAN GIVE US BEAUTIFUL TREASURES. Isn’t God good? ARE YOU HOLDING ONTO THINGS THAT GOD WANTS YOU TO LET GO OF? ARE YOU HOLDING ON TO HARMFUL OR UNNECESSARY PARTNERS, RELATIONSHIPS, HABITS AND ACTIVITIES THAT YOU HAVE COME SO ATTACHED TO THAT IT SEEMS IMPOSSIBLE
TO LET GO?

Sometimes it is so hard to see what is in the other hand but do believe this one thing- GOD WILL NEVER TAKE AWAY SOMETHING WITHOUT GIVING YOU SOMETHING BETTER IN ITS PLACE.

He always empties your hand to give you something better!!!

Hope you receive abundantly always.

Dedicated to all mothers’

Mom comes to visit her son Kumar for dinner who lives with a girl roommate Sunita. During the course of the meal, his mother couldn’t help but notice how pretty Kumar’s roommate was. She had long been suspicious of a relationship between the two, and this had only made her more curious.

Over the course of the evening, while watching the two interact, she started to wonder if there was more between Kumar and his roommate than met the eye. Reading his mom’s thoughts, Kumar volunteered, “I know what you must be thinking, but I assure you, Sunita and I are just roommates.”

About a week later, Sunita came to Kumar saying, “Ever since your mother came to dinner, I’ve been unable to find the silver plate. You don’t suppose she took it, do you?”

Kumar said,”Well, I doubt it, but I’ll email her, just to be sure.”

So he sat down and wrote:

Dear Mother:
I’m not saying that you ‘did’ take the silver plate from my house, I’m not saying that you ‘did not’ take the silver plate. But the fact remains that it has been missing ever since you were here for dinner.
Love, Kumar

A few days later, Kumar received an email from his Mother, which read

Dear Son:
I’m not saying that you ‘do’ sleep with Sunita, and I’m not saying that you ‘do not’ sleep with Sunita. But the fact remains that if she were sleeping in her OWN bed, she would have found the silver plate by now under the pillow…
Love, Mom

Lesson of the day:

“Don’t Lie to Your Mother……..especially if she is Indian !”

Hi friends,
here is online interview chat session. some one had
given interview in HCL and forwarded it to me.
 
============session goes here=========
 
Interviewer: Tell me about yourself.

Candidate: I am Rameshwar Kulkarni. I did my Telecommunication engineering from BabanRao Dhole-Patil Institute of Technology.

Int: BabanRao Dhole-Patil Institute of Technology? I had never heard of
this college before!
 
Candi: Great! Even I had not heard of it before getting an admission into
it. What happened is - due to cricket worldcup I scored badly in 12th.I was
getting a paid seat in a good college. But my father said (I prefer to call him
‘baap’) - “I can not invest so much of money”. The baap actually said - “I will never waste so much of money on you”). So I had to join this college. Frankly speaking this name - BabanRao Dhole-Patil, can at the most be
related to a Shetaki Mahavidyalaya hehehe…
 
Int: ok, ok. It seems you have taken 6 years to complete your engineering.
 
Cand: Actually I tried my best to finish it in 4 years. But you know, these cricket matches and football worldcup, and tennis tournaments.. It is difficult to concentrate.. So I flunked in 2nd and 3rd year. So in all I took 4 + 2 = 7 years.
 
Int: But 4+2 is 6.
 
Cand: Oh, is it? You know I always had KT in ! maths. But I will try to
keep this in mind. 4+2 is 6, good, thanks. These cricket matches really
affect exams a lot. I think they should ban it.
 
Int: Good to know that you want cricket matches to be banned.
 
Can: No, no.. I am talking about Exams!!
 
Int: Ok, What is your biggest achievement in life?
 
Can: Obviously, completing my Engineering. My mom never thought I would
complete it. In fact, when i flunked in 3rd year, she was looking for a job
for me in BEST through some relative.
 
Int: Do you have any plans of higher study?
 
Can: he he he.. Are you kidding? Completing ‘lower’ education itself was
so much of pain! !!
 
Int: Let’s talk about technical stuff. On which platforms have you
worked?
 
Can: Well, I work at SEEPZ, so you can say Andheri is my current platform.
Earlier I was at Vashi center. So Vashi was my platform then. As You can
see I have experience of different platforms!
 
Int: And which languages have you used?
 
Can: Hindi, English. By the way, I can keep quiet in German,
French, Russian and many other languages he he he…
 
Int: Why VC is better than VB?
 
Can: It is a commom sense - C comes after B. So VC is a higher
version than VB. I heard very soon they are coming up with a new
language VD!
 
Int: Do you know anything about Assembly Language?

Can: Well, I have not heard of it. But I guess, this is the language our ministers and MPs use in assembly.
 
Int: What is your general project experience?

Can: My general experience about projects is - most of the times they
are in pipeline!
 
Int: Can you tell me about your current job?

Can: Sure, Currently I am working for Bata Infotech ltd. Since
joining BIL, I am on Bench. Before joining BIL, I used to think that
Bench was another software like Windows he he he..
 
Int: Do you have any project management experience?

Can: No, but I guess it shouldn’t be difficult. I know Word and
Excel.I can talk a lot. I know how to dial for International phone
call and use speaker facility. And very important - I know few words like -
‘Showstoppers’ , ‘hotfixes’, ‘SEICMM’, ‘quality’, ‘version control’, ‘deadlines’ ,
‘Customer Satisfaction’ etc. Also I can blame others for my mistakes!
 
Int: What are your expectations from our company?
 
Can: Not much.
1. I should at least get 40,000 in hand.
2. I would like to work on a live EJB project. But it should not have
deadlines. I personally feel that pressure affects natural talent.
3. I believe in flexi-timings.
4. Dress code is against basic freedom, so I would like to wear t-shirt
and jeans.
5. We must have sat-sun off. I will suggest wed off also, so as to
avoid breakdown due to overwork.
6. I would like to go abroad 3 times a year on short term (preferably 1-2
months) assignments. Personally I prefer US, Australia and Europe. But
considering the fact that there is a worldcup in South Africa in Feb
2003, I don’t mind going there in that period.
As you can see I am modest and don’t have many expectations. So can I
assume my selection?
 
Int: he he he ha ha ha. Thanks for! your interest in our organization. In
fact I was never entertained so much before. I request you not to apply in
our organization for next 100 years. After that we might consider
you!!

The candidate still doesn’t know why he was not selected.