Warrier's Collage on Thiruvonam 2025

Welcome To Warrier's COLLAGE On Thiruvonam, 2025 Friends HAPPY ONAM Happy Birthday to all readers having Birthday during September 2025. Collage in this format is reappearing after a short break. Read & respond, as always. Thanks 🙏 and Regards M G Warrier A Onam 2025 Date, History & Significance Explained https://share.google/G05rYpDEwAzQDA8Vm Onam Song (Malayalam) https://youtu.be/dCIp3EyM_LU?si=vL8iAbRk5ZF36-zM B Collage Books 1) Just released : Unapologetic 💌✨ It’s here. My daughter Reshmy Warrier's 4th book : Unapologetic : Poems That Speak From the Heart, is out! This collection is raw, tender, and fiercely honest. Available now in paperback on Amazon. https://www.amazon.in/dp/B0FPGC18L5 Read & write a review! Thanks! 2) From my bookshelf Banking, Reforms & Corruption is available in eBook format titled "Chasing Inclusive Growth" https://amzn.in/d/brc4Hec C Story* that touched my heart (*Shared by R Jayakumar, Ex-RBI) “Can I eat with you?” asked the homeless little girl to the millionaire… and his answer left everyone in tears. The girl’s voice was sweet and trembling, yet strong enough to silence the entire restaurant. A man in a tailored suit, ready to savor the first bite of an expensive steak, froze. Slowly, he turned his head to look at her: a small, dirty girl, with messy hair and eyes full of hope. No one could have imagined that such a simple question would change both of their lives forever. It was a warm October afternoon in downtown Ho Chi Minh City. In a luxurious French-Vietnamese restaurant, Mr. Lam, a well-known real estate magnate, was dining alone. Nearing sixty, with silver strands in his neatly combed hair, a Rolex on his wrist, and a posture that often intimidated his rivals. He was famous for two things: his sharp business instincts and his cold emotional detachment. As he carefully sliced into a premium Wagyu steak, a voice interrupted his dinner. It wasn’t a waiter, but a barefoot girl, no older than 11 or 12, wearing ragged clothes barely clinging to her small frame. The staff rushed to escort her out, but Lam raised his hand. — “What’s your name?” he asked, his voice calm but curious. — “My name is An,” she said, glancing nervously around. “I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten in two days.” Lam nodded slowly and pointed to the empty chair across from him. The dining room fell silent, stunned. The girl sat down hesitantly, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. Lam called the waiter: “Bring her the same dish as mine. And a glass of warm milk.” An devoured the food the moment it arrived. She tried to eat politely, but hunger overcame any formality. Lam didn’t speak—he simply watched in thoughtful silence. When she finished, he asked: “Where are your parents?” “My father died in a construction accident,” she replied. “My mother disappeared two years ago. I lived with my grandmother under Bridge Y, but she passed away last week.” Lam’s face didn’t move, but his hand tightened slightly around his glass. What no one knew—not the girl, not the waiter, not the other guests—was that Lam himself had lived through a strikingly similar story. He had not been born into wealth. He too had slept on sidewalks, sold scraps to survive, endured too many nights of hunger. He lost his mother at eight. His father abandoned him. Lam grew up on the very same streets where An now scavenged for food. There was a time, decades earlier, when he too would stop in front of restaurants, wishing he had the courage to ask for a meal… but he never did. The girl’s voice awakened something long buried in his heart: a version of himself never entirely erased. Lam stood, reached for his wallet—but halfway, he stopped. He looked at the girl and said: — “Would you like to come live with me?” An’s eyes widened. “W-what… what do you mean?” “I have no children. I live alone. You would have food, a bed, school, and safety. But only if you’re willing to work hard and behave well.” The staff gasped. Some diners whispered. Some thought he was joking, others looked at him with suspicion. But Lam was not joking. An’s lips trembled. “Yes,” she whispered. “I would love that.” Life in Mr. Lam’s villa was a world An could never have imagined. She had never seen a toothbrush, felt hot water in a shower, or drunk milk that wasn’t watered down. At first, she struggled to adapt. Sometimes she slept under the bed because the mattress felt “too soft to be real.” She hid bread in her pockets, terrified that one day they would stop feeding her. One night, a maid caught her stealing bread. An burst into tears. — “I’m sorry… I just don’t want to ever be hungry again…” Lam didn’t scold her. He knelt beside her and said words she would never forget: “You will never go hungry again. I promise you.” Everything—the warm bed, the schoolbooks, the new life—began with one simple question: “Can I eat with you?” A small question, but powerful enough to tear down the walls around a man’s heart. And so, not only did it change the little girl’s destiny, but it gave Lam something he never thought he would find again. A family. Years passed. An grew into a graceful, brilliant young woman. With Mr. Lam’s support, she excelled in her studies and won a scholarship abroad. But she never forgot where she came from, nor the man who had saved her from despair with a plate of food and a second chance. On the eve of leaving for university, she gently asked him: — “Uncle Lam… who were you, before all this?” He gave a faint smile. “Someone very much like you.” For the first time, Lam shared his childhood: the poverty, the loneliness, the invisibility in a world that only cared for money. “No one ever gave me a second chance,” he said. “I built everything from scratch. But I made myself a promise: if I ever met a child like me… I wouldn’t look away.” That night, An wept. For the boy Lam once was. For the man he had become. And for the millions of children still out there, waiting for someone to notice them. Five years later, An walked across a stage in London as the top graduate of her class. “My story didn’t begin in a classroom,” she told the audience. “It began on the streets of Vietnam, with a question… and a man kind enough to answer.” The audience was moved. But the real surprise came when she returned home. She didn’t attend parties or interviews. Instead, she called a press conference and announced: “I am creating the Can I Eat With You? Foundation to build shelters, provide food, and send homeless children to school. The first donation comes from my father, Mr. Lam, who has agreed to give 30% of his fortune.” The news shook the nation. Donations poured in, celebrities offered support, volunteers rushed to help. And it all began because one day, a little girl had the courage to ask for a place at the table… and a man decided to say yes. Every year, on October 15, An and Lam return to that very same restaurant. But they don’t sit at the elegant tables. They reserve the sidewalk. And they serve warm meals, free and without questions, to every child who comes. Because once upon a time, a single shared meal was enough to change everything. A wonderful story to open our hearts ♥️ (Author unknown) D Vishnu Sahasranamam* (*Shared by Vathsala Jayaraman, Ex-RBI) Once, way back in 1940s or 50s someone was interviewing Maha Periyavaar @Kanchi Paramacharya Chandrashekara Saraswathi's place. That gentleman recorded the interview using a tape recorder. Periyavaa then posed a question : "Does anyone know which is the oldest known tape recorder?" Nobody was able to answer. Then Maha Periyavaar asked another question : "How did Vishnu Sahasranamam come to us?" Someone said Bheeshma gave it to us. All agreed. Then Maha Periyavaar posed another query : "When all were listening to Bheeshma on the battlefield, who took notes at Kurukshetra?" Again silence. Maha Periyavaar explained : "When Bheeshma was glorifying Krishna with Sahasranamam everyone was looking at him including Krishna and Vyasa. After he finished the 1000 Namas all opened their eyes. The first to react was Yudhishtira. He said, "Pithamaha has chanted 1000 glorious names of Vasudeva. All of us listened but none of us have noted it down. The sequence is lost". Then all turned to Krishna and asked for His help. As usual He said, "I also was listening like the rest of you. What can we do?" Then all beseeched Krishna to help them recover the precious rendition. Then Krishna said, "It can only be done by Sahadeva and Vyasa will write it down." Everyone wanted to know how Sahadeva could do it. Krishna replied : "Sahadeva is the only one amongst us wearing SUDDHA SPATIKAM. If he prays to Shiva and does dhyanam he can convert the SPATIKAM into waves of sound and Vyasa can write it down. Then, both Sahadeva and Vyasa, sat in the same place, under Bheeshma, where he had recited the Sahasranamam. Sahadeva started the dhyanam to recover the sound waves from the Spatikam. The nature of Spatikam is that it will capture sounds in a calm environment which can be got back with proper dhyanam of Maheswara who is Swethambara and SPATIKA. So, the world's earliest tape recorder is this SPATIKA which gave us the wonderful Vishnu Sahasranamam. When Maha Periyavaar explained this all were stunned. From the Spatika recording, the grantha came to us through Vyasa.