What happens when one wants to print a mail like this on a mailing list onto 
another platform? What is the proper way to do things?


 
bonobashi



>________________________________
> From: SS <[email protected]>
>To: [email protected] 
>Sent: Saturday, 16 March 2013 6:51 PM
>Subject: Re: [silk] What is happiness?
> 
>On Mon, 2013-03-11 at 09:40 +0530, Udhay Shankar N wrote:
>> Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in
>> the potter’s oven?
>> 
>> I read that to mean that to truly experience happiness, you must
>> experience deep sorrow. Which to me, means that you can’t be happy all
>> the time. It’s not possible and it’s not even desirable.
>> 
>> Take pleasure in the little things and stop looking for the
>> “HAPPINESS,”
>> all-caps. Be happy with “happy,” lowercase. And understand that
>> sadness
>> (or in my case, a messy house, or on a whole different scale, the
>> recent
>> death of my mother) is what makes knowing happiness possible. 
>
>For decades I have insisted that happiness is inside the head, between
>one's ears.
>
>Over 20 years ago when I used to live in the UK I found Indians who had
>achieved their dream of leading a wealthy life abroad lamenting that
>they wanted to go back to India. There were whiny and unhappy. 
>
>I was planning on going back to India anyway, but did not want to regret
>that I did not try something that I could have done. I had decided
>against the US simply because I had medical qualifications from India
>and the UK and had no intention of requalifying in the US at an age when
>I could be teaching my "teachers" something. 
>
>I decided to check out Canada. For me the "checking out" route meant
>buying a practice and what was available was a practice in the town of
>Wadena (pop 1000), Saskatchewan.I visited Bangalore briefly before going
>to Canada. In Bangalore I happened to meet the mother of a young man
>living in Saskatoon who instantly (and very kindly) arranged for me to
>use his home as base while I checked out Wadena, 60 odd miles away. She
>spoke glowingly of her son and his wife. They had double of everything.
>Two cars. Two TVs. Two whatnots. Four bathrooms. This was 1989. 
>
>In February 1989 I flew out to Toronto and thence to Saskatoon. I flew
>Wardair that served their food in Wedgwood crockery, and went out of
>business in a year or so. The temperature in Saskatoon was -20
>centigrade. My breath was freezing on my moustache. People who parked
>cars at the airport did not turn off their engines. Cheap oil. The
>couple I stayed with were very warm and hospitable. But they lamented
>that they wanted to be back in India. Look outside they said. 5 feet of
>snow. 
>
>Wadena had two hotels. One was called Hotel Motel where I got a room and
>spent a night. The mayor who had heard that a doctor was visiting came
>up in the morning and had breakfast with me. He was very friendly and
>genuinely welcoming. He drove me around that little town in his pick up
>truck. I asked him what there was to do in town, and he told me that I
>could go moose hunting on his estate and indicated that there were snow
>scooters I could use. I had visions of telling my wife to pick up the
>rifle and go moose hunting because I was held up at the clinic and that
>I would join her later. 
>
>Canada was not the place for me. I returned to India the next year.
>People in India were amazed that I was idiot enough to return to India
>after having "made it" in the west. I told them that I had been living
>in the north of England and had suffered a nervous breakdown. The
>previous summer I had seen a bright light in the sky that scared me
>witless leading to the breakdown. When I recovered people told me that
>the light was actually the sun. I had not seen the sun for 2 years in
>the north of England and had forgotten about it. Scary innit? 
>
>Happiness is in one's head. There is a digitized 8 mm home movie of me
>as a 4 year old child carrying a toy gun. I still love shooting. There
>is something compellingly satisfying about pulling a little lever
>attached to a pipe in front of you and seeing a Coke can explode dozens
>of yards away. I have received warning letters from the Society for
>Prevention of Cruelty to Tin cans. But what do I care? Happiness is
>doing things that you feel like doing. Things that relax you and keep
>your mind empty like that recently perforated Coke can.
>
>shiv
>
>
>
>
>

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