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Employees’ Emotional Intelligence, Motivation & Productivity, and Organizational Excellence : A Future Trend in HRD 1st Edition Gagari Chakrabarti full chapter instant download
Employees’ Emotional Intelligence, Motivation & Productivity, and Organizational Excellence : A Future Trend in HRD 1st Edition Gagari Chakrabarti full chapter instant download
Employees’ Emotional Intelligence, Motivation & Productivity, and Organizational Excellence : A Future Trend in HRD 1st Edition Gagari Chakrabarti full chapter instant download
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EMPLOYEES’ EMOTIONAL
INTELLIGENCE, MOTIVATION
& PRODUCTIVITY, AND
ORGANIZATIONAL EXCELLENCE
Gagari Chakrabarti
Tapas Chatterjea
Employees’ Emotional Intelligence, Motivation
& Productivity, and Organizational Excellence
Gagari Chakrabarti · Tapas Chatterjea
Employees’
Emotional
Intelligence,
Motivation &
Productivity, and
Organizational
Excellence
A Future Trend in HRD
Gagari Chakrabarti Tapas Chatterjea
Department of Economics Cardio-vascular, Geriatric, Internal
Presidency University and Critical Care Medicine; Diabetology
Kolkata and Thyroidology, Mental Health-Stress
West Bengal, India and Institutional Management
Kolkata
West Bengal, India
v
vi Foreword
ix
x Preface
1 Prologue 1
xi
List of Graphs
xiii
xiv List of Graphs
NO!
No sun—no moon!
No morn—no noon—
No dawn—no dusk—no proper time of day—
No sky—no earthly view—
No distance looking blue—
No road—no street—no “t’other side the way”—
No end to any Row—
No indications where the Crescents go—
No top to any steeple—
No recognitions of familiar people—
No courtesies for showing ’em—
No knowing ’em!
To travelling at all—no locomotion,
No inkling of the way—no notion—
No go—by land or ocean—
No mail—no post—
No news from any foreign coast—
No park—no ring—no afternoon gentility—
No company—no nobility—
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
No comfortable feel in any member—
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees.
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds.
November!
The brothers James and Horace Smith, wrote what was in their
day considered lively and amusing humor, but which seems a trifle
dry to us. Their greatest work was the Rejected Addresses, a series
of parodies on the poets, such as Wordsworth, Southey, Coleridge,
Scott, Moore and many others.
One of these, an imitation of Wordsworth’s most simple style,
succeeds in parodying his mawkish affectations of childish simplicity
and nursery stammering.
NAUTICAL TERMS
All the sailors were busy at work, and the first lieutenant cried out
to the gunner, “Now, Mr. Dispart, if you are ready, we’ll breech these
guns.”
“Now, my lads,” said the first lieutenant, “we must slug (the part
the breeches cover) more forward.” As I never had heard of a gun
having breeches, I was very curious to see what was going on, and
went up close to the first lieutenant, who said to me, “Youngster,
hand me that monkey’s tail.” I saw nothing like a monkey’s tail, but I
was so frightened that I snatched up the first thing that I saw, which
was a short bar of iron, and it so happened that it was the very article
which he wanted. When I gave it to him, the first lieutenant looked at
me, and said, “So you know what a monkey’s tail is already, do you?
Now don’t you ever sham stupid after that.”
Thought I to myself, I’m very lucky, but if that’s a monkey’s tail, it’s
a very stiff one!
I resolved to learn the names of everything as fast as I could, that
I might be prepared, so I listened attentively to what was said; but I
soon became quite confused, and despaired of remembering
anything.
“How is this to be finished off, sir?” inquired a sailor of the
boatswain.
“Why, I beg leave to hint to you, sir, in the most delicate manner in
the world,” replied the boatswain, “that it must be with a double-wall
—and be damned to you—don’t you know that yet? Captain of the
foretop,” said he, “up on your horses, and take your stirrups up three
inches.” “Aye, aye, sir.” I looked and looked, but I could see no
horses.
“Mr. Chucks,” said the first lieutenant to the boatswain, “what
blocks have we below—not on charge?”
“Let me see, sir. I’ve one sister, t’other we split in half the other
day, and I think I have a couple of monkeys down in the store-room. I
say, you Smith, pass that brace through the bull’s eye, and take the
sheep-shank out before you come down.”
And then he asked the first lieutenant whether something should
not be fitted with a mouse or only a Turk’s-head—told him the goose-
neck must be spread out by the armourer as soon as the forge was
up. In short, what with dead-eyes and shrouds, cats and cat-blocks,
dolphins and dolphin-strikers, whips and puddings, I was so puzzled
with what I heard, that I was about to leave the deck in absolute
despair.
“And, Mr. Chucks, recollect this afternoon that you bleed all the
buoys.”
Bleed the boys, thought I; what can that be for? At all events, the
surgeon appears to be the proper person to perform that operation.
—Peter Simple.
Douglas Jerrold was an infant prodigy and later a noted
playwright; beside being the author of the world famous Caudle
lectures.
He was a celebrated wit and punster and though many
epigrammatic sayings are wrongly attributed to him, yet he was the
originator of as many more.
“What am I grumbling about, now? It’s very well for you to ask
that! I’m sure I’d better be out of the world than—there now, Mr
Caudle; there you are again! I shall speak, sir. It isn’t often I open my
mouth, Heaven knows! But you like to hear nobody talk but yourself.
You ought to have married a negro slave, and not any respectable
woman.
“You’re to go about the house looking like thunder all the day, and
I’m not to say a word. Where do you think pudding’s to come from
every day? You show a nice example to your children, you do;
complaining, and turning your nose up at a sweet piece of cold
mutton, because there’s no pudding! You go a nice way to make ’em
extravagant—teach ’em nice lessons to begin the world with. Do you
know what puddings cost; or do you think they fly in at the window?
“You hate cold mutton. The more shame for you, Mr. Caudle. I’m
sure you’ve the stomach of a lord, you have. No, sir; I didn’t choose
to hash the mutton. It’s very easy for you to say hash it; but I know
what a joint loses in hashing: it’s a day’s dinner the less, if it’s a bit.
Yes, I dare say; other people may have puddings with cold mutton.
No doubt of it; and other people become bankrupts. But if ever you
get into the Gazette, it sha’n’t be my fault—no; I’ll do my duty as a
wife to you, Mr. Caudle; you shall never have it to say that it was my
housekeeping that brought you to beggary. No; you may sulk at the
cold meat—ha! I hope you’ll never live to want such a piece of cold
mutton as we had to-day! and you may threaten to go to a tavern to
dine; but, with our present means, not a crumb of pudding do you get
from me. You shall have nothing but the cold joint—nothing, as I’m a
Christian sinner.
“Yes; there you are, throwing those fowls in my face again! I know
you once brought home a pair of fowls; I know it; but you were mean
enough to want to stop ’em out of my week’s money! Oh, the
selfishness—the shabbiness of men! They can go out and throw
away pounds upon pounds with a pack of people who laugh at ’em
afterward; but if it’s anything wanted for their own homes, their poor
wives may hunt for it. I wonder you don’t blush to name those fowls
again! I wouldn’t be so little for the world, Mr. Caudle!
“What are you going to do? Going to get up? Don’t make yourself
ridiculous, Mr. Caudle; I can’t say a word to you like any other wife,
but you must threaten to get up. Do be ashamed of yourself.
“Puddings, indeed! Do you think I’m made of puddings? Didn’t you
have some boiled rice three weeks ago? Besides, is this the time of
the year for puddings? It’s all very well if I had money enough
allowed me like any other wife to keep the house with; then, indeed, I
might have preserves like any other woman; now, it’s impossible;
and it’s cruel—yes, Mr. Caudle, cruel—of you to expect it.
“Apples ar’n’t so dear, are they? I know what apples are, Mr.
Caudle, without your telling me. But I suppose you want something
more than apples for dumplings? I suppose sugar costs something,
doesn’t it? And that’s how it is. That’s how one expense brings on
another, and that’s how people go to ruin.
“Pancakes? What’s the use of your lying muttering there about
pancakes? Don’t you always have ’em once a year—every Shrove
Tuesday? And what would any moderate, decent man want more?
“Pancakes, indeed! Pray, Mr. Caudle—no, it’s no use your saying
fine words to me to let you go to sleep; I sha’n’t. Pray, do you know
the price of eggs just now? There’s not an egg you can trust to under
seven and eight a shilling; well, you’ve only just to reckon up how
many eggs—don’t lie swearing there at the eggs in that manner, Mr.
Caudle; unless you expect the bed to let you fall through. You call
yourself a respectable tradesman, I suppose? Ha! I only wish people
knew you as well as I do! Swearing at eggs, indeed! But I’m tired of
this usage, Mr. Caudle; quite tired of it; and I don’t care how soon it’s
ended!
“I’m sure I do nothing but work and labour, and think how to make
the most of everything; and this is how I’m rewarded.”
—Mrs. Caudle’s Curtain Lectures.
“Call that a kind man,” said an actor of an absent acquaintance; “a
man who is away from his family, and never sends them a farthing!
Call that kindness!” “Yes, unremitting kindness,” Jerrold replied.
Some member of “Our Club,” hearing an air mentioned,
exclaimed: “That always carries me away when I hear it.” “Can
nobody whistle it?” exclaimed Jerrold.
A friend said to Jerrold: “Have you heard about poor R—— [a
lawyer]? His business is going to the devil.” Jerrold answered:
“That’s all right: then he is sure to get it back again.”
If an earthquake were to engulf England to-morrow, the English
would meet and dine somewhere just to celebrate the event.
Of a man who had pirated one of his jests, and who was
described in his hearing as an honest fellow, he said, “Oh yes, you
can trust him with untold jokes.”
LYING
I do confess, in many a sigh,
My lips have breath’d you many a lie,
And who, with such delights in view,
Would lose them for a lie or two?
ON TAKING A WIFE
“Come, come,” said Tom’s father, “at your time of life,
There’s no longer excuse for thus playing the rake.—
It is time you should think, boy, of taking a wife.”—
“Why, so it is, father,—whose wife shall I take?”