In Moses's Footsteps

Rabbi Zuya wanted to discover the mysteries of life. He therefore resolved to imitate the life of Moses.

For years, he tried to behave like the prophet - without ever achieving the results he hoped for. One night, tired of so much study, he fell into a deep sleep.

God appeared in his dream:

"Why are you so upset, my son?" He asked.

"My days on Earth will end, and I am still so far from being like Moses," answered Zuya.

"If I needed another Moses, I�d have already created him," said God. "When you come before me for judgment, I will not ask whether you were a good Moses, but who you were. Try and be a good Zuya." -A story by Paulo coelho

Crowns on the Torah

When Moses ascended to Heaven to write a certain part of the Bible, the Almighty asked him to place small crowns on some letters of the Torah. Moses said: "Master of the Universe, why draw these crowns?" God answered: "Because one hundred generations from now a man called Akiva will interpret them."

"Show me this man's interpretation," asked Moses.

The Lord took him to the future and put him in one of Rabbi Akiva's classes. One pupil asked: "Rabbi, why are these crowns drawn on top of some letters?"

"I don't know." Replied Akiva. "And I am sure that not even Moses knew. He did this only to teach us that even without understanding everything the Lord does, we can trust in his wisdom."
-a story by Paulo coelho

Story of two sons

"In ancient Rome, at the time of Emperor Tiberius, there lived a good man who had two sons. One was
in the military, and had been sent to the most distant regions of the empire. The other son was a poet, and
delighted all of Rome with his beautiful verses.
"One night, the father had a dream. An angel appeared to him, and told him that the words of one of his
sons would be learned and repeated throughout the world for all generations to come. The father woke
from his dream grateful and crying, because life was generous, and had revealed to him something any
father would be proud to know.
"Shortly thereafter, the father died as he tried to save a child who was about to be crushed by the wheels
of a chariot. Since he had lived his entire life in a manner that was correct and fair, he went directly to
heaven, where he met the angel that had appeared in his dream.
" 'You were always a good man,' the angel said to him. 'You lived your life in a loving way, and died
with dignity. I can now grant you any wish you desire.'
" 'Life was good to me,' the man said. 'When you appeared in my dream, I felt that all my efforts had
been rewarded, because my son's poems will be read by men for generations to come. I don't want
anything for myself. But any father would be proud of the fame achieved by one whom he had cared for
as a child, and educated as he grew up. Sometime in the distant future, I would like to see my son's
words.'
"The angel touched the man's shoulder, and they were both projected far into the future. They were in an
immense setting, surrounded by thousands of people speaking a strange language.
"The man wept with happiness.
" 'I knew that my son's poems were immortal,' he said to the angel through his tears. 'Can you please tell
me which of my son's poems these people are repeating?'
"The angel came closer to the man, and, with tenderness, led him to a bench nearby, where they sat
down.
"'The verses of your son who was the poet were very popular in Rome,' the angel said. 'Everyone loved
them and enjoyed them. But when the reign of Tiberius ended, his poems were forgotten. The words
you're hearing now are those of your son in the military.'
"The man looked at the angel in surprise.
" 'Your son went to serve at a distant place, and became a centurion. He was just and good. One
afternoon, one of his servants fell ill, and it appeared that he would die. Your son had heard of a rabbi
who was able to cure illnesses, and he rode out for days and days in search of this man. Along the way,
he learned that the man he was seeking was the Son of God. He met others who had been cured by him,
and they instructed your son in the man's teachings. And so, despite the fact that he was a Roman
centurion, he converted to their faith. Shortly thereafter, he reached the place where the man he was
looking for was visiting.'
" 'He told the man that one of his servants was gravely ill, and the rabbi made ready to go to his house
with him. But the centurion was a man of faith, and, looking into the eyes of the rabbi, he knew that he
was surely in the presence of the Son of God.'
" 'And this is what your son said,' the angel told the man. 'These are the words he said to the rabbi at
that point, and they have never been forgotten: "My Lord, I am not worthy that you should come under
my roof. But only speak a word and my servant will be healed."

-Paulo Coelho

A ZEN story

At the age of twenty, as a wandering mendicant, "Kitano Gempo" once came upon a traveller who was smoking a tobacco. He accepted the smoke that the traveller shared with him and relished it. The traveller then gave him an extra pipe and a tobacco when they parted.

Kitano felt : “Such pleasant things may spoil my meditation. Before this actually gets on to me, let me stop this now” He thus threw the smoking pipe away.

At the age of twenty three, Kitano studied I-King, the most profound document of the universe. It happened to be winter during that time and Kitano needed some warm wears. Hence he wrote a letter to his teacher who was hundred miles away asking him to send some clothes to combat the winter chill. Winter was almost over and he still did not receive a reply or the clothes. Hence Kitano resorted to know the status of the letter as to whether it was miscarried, through the prescience of I-King which also dealt with divination. He found out that the letter was miscarried. A letter later which came from his teacher did not carry any mention of the clothes.

Kitano then thought, “If I perform analysis accurately with the work of I-King, I may ignore my meditation,” Hence he gave up the teachings of I-King and its marvelous powers.

At twenty eight Kitano resorted to learning Chinese Calligraphy and Poetry. He emerged skillful in the art and earned the praise of his teacher. Kitano felt, “If I dont stop now, I'll will be a poet instead of a Zen master” That was the last he ever wrote a poem.

when santiago meets fatima (From the novel THE ALCHEMIST)

"I had never heard of alchemists before," the boy said. "Maybe no one here has, either." The Englishman's eyes lit up. "That's it! Maybe no one here knows what an alchemist is! Find out who it is who cures the people's illnesses!" Several women dressed in black came to the well for water, but the boy would speak to none of them, despite the Englishman's insistence. Then a man approached. "Do you know someone here who cures people's illnesses?" the boy asked. "Allah cures our illnesses," said the man, clearly frightened of the strangers. "You're looking for witch doctors." He spoke some verses from the Koran, and moved on. Another man appeared. He was older, and was carrying a small bucket. The boy repeated his question. "Why do you want to find that sort of person?" the Arab asked. "Because my friend here has traveled for many months in order to meet with him," the boy said. "If such a man is here at the oasis, he must be the very powerful one," said the old man after thinking for a few moments. "Not even the tribal chieftains are able to see him when they want to. Only when he consents. "Wait for the end of the war. Then leave with the caravan. Don't try to enter into the life of the oasis," he said, and walked away. But the Englishman was exultant. They were on the right track. Finally, a young woman approached who was not dressed in black. She had a vessel on her shoulder, and her head was covered by a veil, but her face was uncovered. The boy approached her to ask about the alchemist. At that moment, it seemed to him that time stood still, and the Soul of the World surged within him. When he looked into her dark eyes, and saw that her lips were poised between a laugh and silence, he learned the most important part of the language that all the world spoke—the language that everyone on earth was capable of understanding in their heart. It was love. Something older than humanity, more ancient than the desert. Something that exerted the same force whenever two pairs of eyes met, as had theirs here at the well. She smiled, and that was certainly an omen—the omen he had been awaiting, without even knowing he was, for all his life. The omen he had sought to find with his sheep and in his books, in the crystals and in the silence of the desert. It was the pure Language of the World. It required no explanation, just as the universe needs none as it travels through endless time. What the boy felt at that moment was that he was in the presence of the only woman in his life, and that, with no need for words, she recognized the same thing. He was more certain of it than of anything in the world. He had been told by his parents and grandparents that he must fall in love and really know a person before becoming committed. But maybe people who felt that way had never learned the universal language. Because, when you know that language, it's easy to understand that someone in the world awaits you, whether it's in the middle of the desert or in some great city. And when two such people encounter each other, and their eyes meet, the past and the future become unimportant. There is only that moment, and the incredible certainty that everything under the sun has been written by one hand only. It is the hand that evokes love, and creates a twin soul for every person in the world. Without such love, one's dreams would have no meaning. Maktub, thought the boy. The Englishman shook the boy: "Come on, ask her!" The boy stepped closer to the girl, and when she smiled, he did the same. "What's your name?" he asked. "Fatima," the girl said, averting her eyes. "That's what some women in my country are called." "It's the name of the Prophet's daughter," Fatima said. "The invaders carried the name everywhere." The beautiful girl spoke of the invaders with pride. The Englishman prodded him, and the boy asked her about the man who cured people's illnesses. "That's the man who knows all the secrets of the world," she said. "He communicates with the genies of the desert." The genies were the spirits of good and evil. And the girl pointed to the south, indicating that it was there the strange man lived. Then she filled her vessel with water and left. The Englishman vanished, too, gone to find the alchemist. And the boy sat there by the well for a long time, remembering that one day in Tarifa the levanter had brought to him the perfume of that woman, and realizing that he had loved her before he even knew she existed. He knew that his love for her would enable him to discover every treasure in the world.

how ASUS-INTEL friendship started

In the early 2000s, Taiwan-based motherboard manufacturers had not yet established their leading positions in the computer-hardware business. Intel Corporation would supply any new processors to more established companies like IBM first, and the Taiwanese companies would have to wait for approximately six months after IBM received their engineering prototypes.

After Intel released its 486 as engineering samples in the late 1980s, the four founding engineers of ASUS decided to design a 486 motherboard without having a 486-processor engineering sample on site, using only the technical details published by Intel and the experience he had gained while making 386-compatible motherboards. When ASUS finalized its 486 motherboard prototype, they took it to Intel's base in Taiwan for testing. Unsurprisingly, they received no formal greeting when they arrived. It turned out that Intel's own 486 motherboard prototype had encountered design flaws, which Intel's engineers had started to rectify. The ASUS founders drew on their experience with the 486 and had a look at Intel's malfunctioning motherboard. Their solution worked, to the Intel engineers' surprise. Intel then tested the ASUS prototype, which functioned perfectly. This marked the beginning of an informal relationship between the two companies – as of 2009^[update], ASUS receives Intel engineering samples ahead of its competitors.

ASUS has become one of the main supporters of Intel's Common Building Block initiatives.

How santiago finds his treasure

The boy rode along through the desert for several hours, listening avidly to what his heart had to say. It
was his heart that would tell him where his treasure was hidden.
"Where your treasure is, there also will be your heart," the alchemist had told him.
But his heart was speaking of other things. With pride, it told the story of a shepherd who had left his
flock to follow a dream he had on two different occasions. It told of destiny, and of the many men who
had wandered in search of distant lands or beautiful women, confronting the people of their times with
their preconceived notions. It spoke of journeys, discoveries, books, and change.
As he was about to climb yet another dune, his heart whispered, "Be aware of the place where you are
brought to tears. That's where I am, and that's where your treasure is."
The boy climbed the dune slowly. A full moon rose again in the starry sky: it had been a month since he
had set forth from the oasis. The moonlight cast shadows through the dunes, creating the appearance of a
rolling sea; it reminded the boy of the day when that horse had reared in the desert, and he had come to
know the alchemist. And the moon fell on the desert's silence, and on a man's journey in search of
treasure.
When he reached the top of the dune, his heart leapt. There, illuminated by the light of the moon and the
brightness of the desert, stood the solemn and majestic Pyramids of Egypt.
The boy fell to his knees and wept. He thanked God for making him believe in his destiny, and for
leading him to meet a king, a merchant, an Englishman, and an alchemist. And above all for his having met
a woman of the desert who had told him that love would never keep a man from his destiny.
If he wanted to, he could now return to the oasis, go back to Fatima, and live his life as a simple
shepherd. After all, the alchemist continued to live in the desert, even though he understood the Language
of the World, and knew how to transform lead into gold. He didn't need to demonstrate his science and
art to anyone. The boy told himself that, on the way toward realizing his own destiny, he had learned all
he needed to know, and had experienced everything he might have dreamed of.
But here he was, at the point of finding his treasure, and he reminded himself that no project is
completed until its objective has been achieved. The boy looked at the sands around him, and saw that,
where his tears had fallen, a scarab beetle was scuttling through the sand. During his time in the desert, he
had learned that, in Egypt, the scarab beetles are a symbol of God.
Another omen! The boy began to dig into the dune. As he did so, he thought of what the crystal
merchant had once said: that anyone could build a pyramid in his backyard. The boy could see now that
he couldn't do so if he placed stone upon stone for the rest of his life.
Throughout the night, the boy dug at the place he had chosen, but found nothing. He felt weighted down
by the centuries of time since the Pyramids had been built. But he didn't stop. He struggled to continue
digging as he fought the wind, which often blew the sand back into the excavation. His hands were
abraded and exhausted, but he listened to his heart. It had told him to dig where his tears fell.
As he was attempting to pull out the rocks he encountered, he heard footsteps. Several figures
approached him. Their backs were to the moonlight, and the boy could see neither their eyes nor their
faces.
"What are you doing here?" one of the figures demanded.
Because he was terrified, the boy didn't answer. He had found where his treasure was, and was
frightened at what might happen.
"We're refugees from the tribal wars, and we need money," the other figure said. "What are you hiding
there?"
"I'm not hiding anything," the boy answered.
But one of them seized the boy and yanked him back out of the hole. Another, who was searching the
boy's bags, found the piece of gold.
"There's gold here," he said.
The moon shone on the face of the Arab who had seized him, and in the man's eyes the boy saw death.
"He's probably got more gold hidden in the ground."
They made the boy continue digging, but he found nothing. As the sun rose, the men began to beat the
boy. He was bruised and bleeding, his clothing was torn to shreds, and he felt that death was near.
"What good is money to you if you're going to die? It's not often that money can save someone's life,"
the alchemist had said. Finally, the boy screamed at the men, "I'm digging for treasure!" And, although his
mouth was bleeding and swollen, he told his attackers that he had twice dreamed of a treasure hidden
near the Pyramids of Egypt.
The man who appeared to be the leader of the group spoke to one of the others: "Leave him. He doesn't
have anything else. He must have stolen this gold."
The boy fell to the sand, nearly unconscious. The leader shook him and said, "We're leaving."
But before they left, he came back to the boy and said, "You're not going to die. You'll live, and you'll
learn that a man shouldn't be so stupid. Two years ago, right here on this spot, I had a recurrent dream,
too. I dreamed that I should travel to the fields of Spain and look for a ruined church where shepherds
and their sheep slept. In my dream, there was a sycamore growing out of the ruins of the sacristy, and I
was told that, if I dug at the roots of the sycamore, I would find a hidden treasure. But I'm not so stupid
as to cross an entire desert just because of a recurrent dream."
And they disappeared.
The boy stood up shakily, and looked once more at the Pyramids. They seemed to laugh at him, and he
laughed back, his heart bursting with joy.
Because now he knew where his treasure was.

The Creation

The God separated a spirit from Himself and fashioned it into Beauty. He showered upon her all the blessings of gracefulness and kindness. He gave her the cup of happiness and said, "Drink not from this cup unless you forget the past and the future, for happiness is naught but the moment." And He also gave her a cup of sorrow and said, "Drink from this cup and you will understand the meaning of the fleeting instants of the joy of life, for sorrow ever abounds."

And the God bestowed upon her a love that would desert her forever upon her first sigh of earthly satisfaction, and a sweetness that would vanish with her first awareness of flattery.

And He gave her wisdom from heaven to lead to the all-righteous path, and placed in the depth of her heart an eye that sees the unseen, and created in her an affection and goodness toward all things. He dressed her with raiment of hopes spun by the angels of heaven from the sinews of the rainbow. And He cloaked her in the shadow of confusion, which is the dawn of life and light.

Then the God took consuming fire from the furnace of anger, and searing wind from the desert of ignorance, and sharp- cutting sands from the shore of selfishness, and coarse earth from under the feet of ages, and combined them all and fashioned Man. He gave to Man a blind power that rages and drives him into a madness which extinguishes only before gratification of desire, and placed life in him which is the specter of death.

And the god laughed and cried. He felt an overwhelming love and pity for Man, and sheltered him beneath His guidance. (a story(essay) by kahlil gibran)

the legend of Narcissus

A youth who knelt daily beside a lake to contemplate his own beauty. He was so fascinated by himself that, one morning, he fell into the lake and drowned. At the spot where he fell, a flower was born, which was called the narcissus.
when Narcissus died, the goddesses of the forest appeared and found the lake, which had been fresh water, transformed into a lake of salty tears. “Why do you weep?” the goddesses asked. “I weep for Narcissus,” the lake replied. “Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus,” they said, “for though we always pursued him in the forest, you alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand.” “But...was Narcissus beautiful?” the lake asked. “Who better than you to know that?” the goddesses said in wonder. “After all, it was by your banks that he knelt each day to contemplate himself!” The lake was silent for some time. Finally, it said: “I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus was beautiful. I weep because, each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty reflected.”

wrong man in the workers paradise

The man had never believed in mere utility. Having had no useful work, he indulged in mad whims. He made little pieces of sculptures, men, women and castles and he painted. Thus he wasted his time on all that was useless and needless. People laughed at him. He spent his earth life in useless work and yet after death, the gates of heaven opened wide for him and he was sent to the Workers Paradise.
But this newcomer did not fit well with the scheme of things in Workers Paradise. He lounged in the streets absently and jostled the hurrying men. He lay in the green meadows or close to the fast flowing stream. A girl went hustling-bustling everyday to a silent torrent (silent since in the Workers Paradise even a torrent wouldn't waste its energy singing), to fill her pitchers.
"A - Ha" she cried with concern. "You have no work in hand, Have you?"
The man sighed "Work! I've not a moment to spare for work."
The girl did not understand his words and said "I shall spare some work for you to do, if you like." She further said "What kind of work would you like?"
"Would you give me one of your pitchers, one that you can spare?"
"A pitcher? You want to draw water from the torrent?"
"No. I shall draw pictures on your pitcher."
The girl was annoyed. "A picture indeed! I have no time to waste on such as you. I'm going." And she walked away.
But everyday they met and everyday he said the same thing to her. She yielded at last. She gave him one of her pitchers. The man started painting. When he had completed his work, the girl held up the pitcher and stared at its sides, her eyes puzzled.
Brows drawn, she asked "What do they mean, all those lines and colors?"
The man laughed "Nothing. A picture may have no meaning and serve no purpose."
At home, away from prying eyes, she held it in the light, turned it round and round and scanned the painting from all angles. At night she lighted a candle and scanned it again in silence. For the first time in her life she had seen something that had no meaning and no purpose at all. She saw the painter standing by the torrent and asked him in confusion,
"What do you want of me?"
"Only some more work from your hands."
"What kind of work would you like?"
"Let me make a colored ribbon for your hair."
"And what for?"
"Nothing."
Ribbons were made, bright with colors. The busy girl of Workers Paradise had now to spend a lot of time everyday tying the colored ribbon around her hair. Much work was left unfinished. In Workers Paradise, work of late had began to suffer. Many people who had been active earlier were idle now, wasting their precious time on useless things like paintings and sculptures. The elders became anxious. A meeting was called. The aerial messenger also hurried in, bowed before the elders and made a confession.
"I brought a wrong man in this paradise. It is all due to him."
The man was summoned. Stifled the president said
"This is no place for the kind of you. You must leave."
The man sighed in relief and gathered up his brush and paints. But as he was about to go, the girl of the silent torrent came up tripping and cried
"Wait a moment! I shall come with you." (A story by rabindranath tagore)