Skip to main content

A Taxi experience.


While getting a Mumbai airport taxi last month, I remembered a joke I heard long ago. 

A Japanese tourist landed at Mumbai airport and took a taxi to his hotel room. He saw everything slow in India on his way, the trains, cars, machines and so on. He asked the taxi driver the reason and the driver replied this is because India is a developing country and still need to progress a lot. When the tourist reached his destination, to his amazement the taxi fair was very high. He asked the driver why. Driver replied 'My taxi fare-meter is ' Made in Japan ' it works faaaast.. 😀

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Sheikh Abdul Rahman Al-Sudais

The days in Jeddah are rolling one over the other. It is like a book with one page printed on multiple pages. The same chapter repeating every day. Days start with normal sunrise and ends with sunset. Nothing is special except one has the peaceful life and self freedom without disturbing others. But things differ sometimes when I visit to Makah which is just an hour drive from here. The Masjidul Haram and the Ka’ba which is a black cubical structure located at the center of the grand Mosque is the core of it. Each time one sees it, send chills to the heart and veins even if one has seen it thousands of time. Something that makes your heart feels by looking at which is never the very same that you see in a pictures or in TVs. Yesterday I was sitting in the Mataf or the central open area of Masjidul Haram, there is nothing more beautiful than spending sometimes there and watching the circling of the Ka’ba going on peacefully all the time. Different nationals and different colors. All c

The Ansar Masjid, Kasaragod

Photos remind not only about a place but also the time. Especially photo of a place where once you had been living for a span of time and left that place for some reason. Looking at such photo is joyous and heart soothing. That would increase in folds if that place were so dearer to you. It will take yourself spiritually to that place and remind you of your old days. Your hearts clasps it's feathers and flies back through the garden of it's memories. I should say, How can the joy of one's inner self be portrayed or explained to someone else. Can we share it, or is it between our heart and the Creator of it. Mostly tongs fails to express what one feels actually and the pens fails to write. Beauty is what our heart pictures as beautiful to us. A poor man's hut is as beautiful to his eyes as the mighty palace of a king in his eyes. I loved the beauty of nature. To think about is what a true believer should do always. How beautiful is life when we see positive in a

Safwan my Boy!

Ismail Eliat Safwan Eliat If you remember your childhood of city life at Jeddah, I remember mine of my village in southern India. You were born in a well setup Hospital while I was born at the very village home of my mom where there were no electricity. You grew seeing Tom and Jerry and Merry cartoons, I grew listening to bedtime stories of my grandmas. Your plays were with toys and computer games, my toys were the coconut leaves and paper boats. You went to school in air-conditioned buses, I went to my village school walking through the paddy fields. You grew up under well-lit lamps of all types, I grew up with smells of kerosene lamps and half lit bulbs. Your modern days are my later world of my life's journey. Whereas my past has disappeared behind the horizons which you may well read them as 'Once upon a time' or as a 'Fairy tales' in your school books. الولد سر أبيه -  Son is the secret of his father (