They were holding hands at the next table.

I have nothing against holding hands, I've held my own fair share and more during the springtime of my youth, but these two at the next table seemed to have hands meant for nothing else but each other! Danny who was sitting next to me, appeared too embarrassed to look and I don't think it pleased the man from Wales, who I suspect thought that Asians should be Asians in their expressions of love. Now I'm only assuming he had these thoughts since he never looked even once furtively in the direction of the couple, or maybe he was just polite!

Am I a better salesman than a content giver? This is a question I wrestle with, even as I try to check myself every now and then to see whether the content of my motivational talks, workshops, and also my writing justifies the sales pitch!

Last Diwali, I received many lovely looking packets of sweets! Mind, you, I’m not making the same comment about the sweets inside; suffice it to be said, that packaging outside far exceled the contents inside!

It seemed like a dance of death as the peepul leaf floated down to me, “You poor leaf,” I cried, “Let me get some glue, you know the quick fix type and paste you back to the branch you fell from!”

 “No!” said the peepul leaf firmly, “I’m happy on the ground!”

 ‘Laughter can conceal a heavy heart; when the laughter ends, the grief remains.” Proverbs 14:13.

This actually happened after a session with a group of company executives, where I’d spent almost a day training them in the art of being still. "From stillness,” I had told them, “Comes a mighty force of energy that will make you the most dynamic salesman or the most spirited Managing Director, or owner!”

We had just finished the interactive session when the general manager who had not attended the course, but who wanted to share in the efforts being put in, walked up, and told his employees, “Now, say loudly with me, ‘J-O-S-H’!” Making a feeble attempt they all repeated after him. “Louder!” he shouted, and they knowing their job was at stake said it louder, “Scream!” he shouted, his veins sticking out and I nearly stepped forward in case he had a heart attack, and they screamed.

 “Where did you find it?” he asked sharply.

 “In your mother’s room while we were cleaning up!” his maid said, looking scared as she watched him staring at the suitcase, she was placing in his fancy sitting room.

He looked at the red suitcase, “Did she have to choose such a garish colour?” he asked himself, and then saw his phone buzzing. It was an unknown number, and out of sheer curiosity he picked it up, “Hello?” he said.