<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790</id><updated>2011-12-06T19:12:03.313+05:30</updated><category term='Friends'/><category term='trash'/><category term='scribbled'/><category term='Inspirational'/><category term='Dedicated'/><category term='Poems'/><category term='Feelings'/><category term='Fiction'/><category term='Experience'/><category term='Food for thought'/><category term='Funny'/><title type='text'>What say huh?</title><subtitle type='html'>Its all about feeling free to SPEAK YOUR MIND!!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>33</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-2789731744307396924</id><published>2009-06-29T13:56:00.011+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-30T14:28:42.583+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food for thought'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experience'/><title type='text'>Growing up!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When you are a child, you often come across frustrated adults grumpy and irritated about nature's irony called "growing up". But when you are a kid, you never truly appreciate, truly understand why people are so bugged with the entire idea of growing up. Twenty years down the line, you find yourself in the shoes of those very people, thinking often, sometimes aloud, that growing up does truly suck. Why so?! Honestly, I myself have asked this question so many times. It's not like I live a depressed life, not at all. I am happy, enjoying every moment of my being. But somewhere at the back of my head, whenever there is a comparison between now and then, the then seems to dominate, taking me over, filling me with a sense of nostalgia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when I was a kid, I couldn't wait for this little self called "me" to grow up. It was like an eternal wait and somehow, in my head I kept waiting, waiting for something to happen, waiting for time to show its might, waiting for so many things. I was excited, excited to enjoy every moment of my life to the fullest, excited to go to college, to earn, to LIVE! But nothing happened, not in my head at least. I grew up (Or did I?) in the eyes of everyone. And it came as a big shock. When the hell did that happen? It was tough to comprehend. Wasn't I fully prepared. Wasn't I waiting? And yet, when it struck me, I was taken off guard. Soon, days turned into months and months into years. But I (as I'm sure many others my age) continued to be in denial. And a good part of me still is, which refuses to grow up, refuses to accept the undeniable truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its not the age that's the issue. It's the responsibility. The excitement is still there. But its shadowed, overpowered by an anxiety. What will I do? It's all on me now. I can't be the same carefree kid that I was (or at least I am expected not to be). And it surprises me, that how the grand event  I was so eagerly waiting for, I now want removed. I want time to go slow. I am expected to take so many decisions all of a sudden. Without a forewarning, I have been bombarded with serious talks of life. Life?! Life itself has changed, from being about chocolates and TV and playing around,  to  jobs and future and responsibility and expectations.  No matter how hard I try, this time there's no escape. I will one day have to go out for work, job?!?! It sounds so remote in my head, and yet so unexpectedly up close and personal. It's right there and yet so far away. I am an amalgamation, of past and present, of dreams and reality, of excitement and anxiety.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While growing up, there always was an exit route, something to look forward to, something to make my adrenaline pump. When I was in preliminary school, there was High School. When I came to 12th, the tears in our eyes while graduating were washed away with the hopes of an awesome college life. But what now, where to!? There are no more crossroads, no more choices, no more running away. Theres only one way from here and that goes to the adult world, the creepy boring adult world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But of course, there is always the hope. the hope that my life is in my hands (like they say, its your life, make it large!). Endlessly confronted with choices, one always has the steering wheel in his hands. I do too. And I know I will survive! And I also know that in the years to come, the new life to start, I will be best guided by one person who has been with me from the very beginning, who knows me more than I do now, who knows what my dreams were, what I wanted, what made me smile, what made me cry, and that is the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;reflection of me as a kid&lt;/span&gt;! I know I can't stay this way forever, but if only, I want to be carefree again, I want to be wild again, I want to be a kid again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-2789731744307396924?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/2789731744307396924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=2789731744307396924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/2789731744307396924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/2789731744307396924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2009/06/growing-up.html' title='Growing up!'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-6896520150591788731</id><published>2009-06-19T17:06:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-19T17:12:08.981+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trash'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food for thought'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scribbled'/><title type='text'>Non Sense</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I know its really non sense to ask this but I was wondering, how is it that your inspiration is supposed to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;run dry&lt;/span&gt; but your spirits, on the other hand, always &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;get dampened. &lt;/span&gt;Weird?! Isn't it contradictory?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coz well, isn't it so that you get your inspiration from your spirit only. I always presumed that your muse is nothing but a more popular resident of spirit-town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So like one day if I'm writing and I my inspiration runs dry, it would mean my spirits are dry too and so it should be perfect for some spiritual writing! :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-6896520150591788731?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/6896520150591788731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=6896520150591788731' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/6896520150591788731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/6896520150591788731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2009/06/non-sense.html' title='Non Sense'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-2135607122945867862</id><published>2009-06-19T13:57:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-19T14:36:42.236+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trash'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scribbled'/><title type='text'>Insomania!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So it started when I was in the eight standard.  It would suffice to tell you that I had a certain exam, which I was really nervous about, more than usual, thinking how will I ever manage to finish off the entire course in one day. Put all this together and you get a sleepless 'me' tossing and turning in the bed till late in the night. And that it how it all began. After that there were several times when during  exams I couldn't sleep till late. But generally, I would always end up ultimately falling asleep. But this time it got really late, I was on my bed sleepless and without relief till 3 or 4 (Don't laugh..3 or 4 is late for me..its freakin' next day!)..So I decided to take matters in my own hands and went on my quest for a solution. I sat searching on the internet (of course after finishing the course) for almost an hour on the examination eve. And these were the various solutions I came across:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Cure 1: Count sheep (Oh yeah, I've heard that one before..its gotta work!)....Observe them properly, every little detail (Ok so where do i start?)...its eyes, its wool, its legs, its small nose (wow..thats good detailing..oh k, here goes)..observe them as they hop right over the fence of your dreams (oh k, make them hope..hop hop hop!...).. Every sheep, some big and fat, others small and thin, observe it (oh k..wow..this is working..i think im sleepy..no wait..its just boredom)..And you'll eventually fall asleep before you even know it (umm..I don't think so..I've been at it for like forever..how many of these things are up there anyway..gosh! its like a factory ................................................................................. Oh k..I give up!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Cure 2: Go to your happy place (The what?!)..Happy place? You don't have one/ (umm...no!)..well then lets create one for you (sure thing, whatever helps me get some sleep)..Lets see, what would you have as your happy place (ooh.. I disneyland?! Good one huh?).. We know, a peaceful quiet meadow (umm...not really!..but oh what the hell).. Imagine a green peaceful meadow (oh k).. Observe the silence (what?! how?!).. You are standing right in the middle of it (oh k.... I am!).. theres a stream flowing through the meadow (A stream in the meadow!? What?!)..or maybe the mountains, where you can feel the soft breeze flowing through your hair (Are we there already..its gettin kinda boring)..and you are in a boat (Where the hell did that come from?!)..and you're rowing (Fine Row Row Row!)..and you're rowing (Yes i am..and nothings happening)..you are absorbing the peace and tranquility (not quite)..and you're rowing (Thud!)..and you're falling asleep (no I'm not!)..and you're almost asleep (Get out of my head!)....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Cure 3: Now this one was the funniest..........Cant sleep? (Yeah).. There can be various causes of insomnia (ahun ahun)...the most common is Anxiety (yep yep..you got that right!).. We have the perfect solution for you (yey!).. All you need to do is get rid of the anxiety! (huh?1..what?!..of course I need to do that..but how?!.... Wheres the rest of your help!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-2135607122945867862?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/2135607122945867862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=2135607122945867862' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/2135607122945867862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/2135607122945867862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2009/06/insomania.html' title='Insomania!'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-4379923085223488904</id><published>2009-06-10T11:51:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-10T13:48:20.898+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Days of our lives.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Yawn! Internships I tell you. They make you think. About anything and everything. Not that I'm famous for keeping my mind clear anyway, but still, internships give me that extra kick to ponder over weird stuff. What else can you do when you are jobless!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, the other day as I sat waiting for my associate to call me, I realised the world of difference between the life that I have (or will have once I start working) and the life that I've always wanted to have or thought I'll have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me give you a lil schedule of the days of My various lives (real and hypothetical)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I do/will do:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:00 AM: Get up, yawn..Sleep Again&lt;br /&gt;7:30 AM: Get up, for real this time.&lt;br /&gt;8:00 AM: Get ready for work.&lt;br /&gt;9:00 AM: Get going for work.&lt;br /&gt;10:00 AM: Reach your work place only to see none of the other associates are there. So you check your mails and do random TP on the internet (like blogging).&lt;br /&gt;11:00 AM: Wonder if the day has started yet. Get started with your work because people have just started coming in.&lt;br /&gt;12:00 PM: Stare at your computer screen pretending that you're in a state of deep concentration, working.&lt;br /&gt;1:00 PM: Still staring....&lt;br /&gt;2:00 PM: Eat lunch.&lt;br /&gt;3:00 PM: Get on with the stare. Get pissed why people haven't yet started working.&lt;br /&gt;4:00 PM: Finally do some work, which involves a lot more staring at the screen.&lt;br /&gt;5:00 PM: Munch again. (Eating is also a source of entertainment and taking breaks in our work culture).&lt;br /&gt;6:00 PM: Prepare to round up your work thinking you will finish it on time and leave (Maybe today!)&lt;br /&gt;7:00 PM: People who come late and started working just some time back want to discuss work with you. Curse them silently.&lt;br /&gt;8:00 PM: Stare at the watch thinking why, like all other days, you are being made to stay back when the work could have easily been finished earlier.&lt;br /&gt;8:30 PM: If you're lucky, you get to make a move.&lt;br /&gt;8: 35 PM: Smell Fresh Air once you manage to move out of the No-Smoking area where your colleagues were taking their routine smoke breaks.&lt;br /&gt;9:30 PM: Reach home feeling dead. Eat.&lt;br /&gt;10:00 PM: Realize that anything that you might have wanted to watch on TV has already gone. Force yourself to settle for something less 'your type'.&lt;br /&gt;11:00 PM: Regret a bit but console yourself with the money you make! Sigh! Say a prayer for a better tomorrow. Doze off!&lt;br /&gt;All Night: Dream of the life that follows.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I wish I did:&lt;br /&gt;8:00 AM: Get up. Bed tea.&lt;br /&gt;9:00 AM: Have a nice breakfast watching TV.&lt;br /&gt;9:30 AM: Call your secretary to brief you of your plans for the day.&lt;br /&gt;10:30 AM: Go for work where you know everyone will be on time!!&lt;br /&gt;11:00 AM: Start your work which involves no staring at the screen. Dictate a Thank you note on receiving the "Best Event Planner of the Year".&lt;br /&gt;4:00 PM: Work done. Say bye to everyone on your way to the theater.&lt;br /&gt;5:00 PM: Give an awesome performance on stage for your current play which you wrote, directed and acted in.&lt;br /&gt;6:00 PM: Get great comments from the audience and the critics. Smell the sweet fragrance of Adulation.&lt;br /&gt;7: 00 PM: Go home to your penthouse in a skyscraper. Decide to give a new look to your house. So order new furniture.&lt;br /&gt;8: 00 PM: Get ready for the party at friends place.&lt;br /&gt;10:00 PM: Reach back feeling dead.&lt;br /&gt;11:00 PM: Retire to your king sized bed. Thank god for the wonderful life. Pray tommorow is just the same.&lt;br /&gt;All Night: Sleep tight!! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-4379923085223488904?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/4379923085223488904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=4379923085223488904' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/4379923085223488904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/4379923085223488904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2009/06/days-of-our-lives.html' title='Days of our lives.....'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-1696799742735147050</id><published>2009-06-03T09:39:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-03T09:49:53.136+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trash'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scribbled'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Funny'/><title type='text'>?!?!?!?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I have officially come across the most wanna be T-shirt that I've ever seen....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was walking to office this morning after a rather disturbing bus ride and coming to the conclusion that classy colours like creme or off white are not meant for poor old souls like me who travel by a bus every freaking morning! So as I start ascending the flight of stairs...there it was..this T-shirt worn by a rather &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;tapori&lt;/span&gt;-ish guy which read: "If being sexy is a crime...ARREST ME!" :O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean wtf! what is this world getting to.....Voix, I'd give it to you, if only i would have had the sense to take out my phone and click!...maybe he should marry that "barbie for president woman"!! won't they be adorable together...and then maybe, they can both roam around hand in hand wearing Ts that read "If being inspired by Govinda is a crime, Arrest us!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-1696799742735147050?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/1696799742735147050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=1696799742735147050' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/1696799742735147050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/1696799742735147050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post.html' title='?!?!?!?!'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-7947271099792785794</id><published>2009-05-29T09:45:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-05-29T10:07:31.439+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trash'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scribbled'/><title type='text'>Happy Holidays!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ok, I'm flattered. Thanks to Voix and Hoverer. But I'm sorry to have disappointed them. I know as per the awesome culture (you wont get it so stopp brainstorming), holdiays cannot be said to have started unless I start blogging. Cos well, I rarely blog. Reasons? well, firstly cos at times i get struck by guilt thinking how much can i possibly bug people with senseless useless talks. ha ha! Did you guys buy that? Of course not! I dont care if you're bored. Dont read it then! :P&lt;br /&gt;so now for the main reason..in college i seldom get time (being a nerd has its own disadvantages)..thus the outburst of words and emotions during the holidays. then whats been going wrong for past two vacations! sigh! dont remind me..i barely get access to the internet when I'm interning. Boredom of course is just the same, the difference is just of resources.&lt;br /&gt;Similar problem this time. I'm in Delhi again (thud!).....interning? yes...Lots of work? no.... Bored? YES! ....wanting to blog? Yes.... Round the clock internet access? No.... Internet in the office? Yes.... Easy to grab a comp? No.....So that explains. But today i realized (which was very strongly reiterated by Voix) that if i can write mails to my friends, I'm sure I can smuggle some time to blog! and so here i am!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now what should I write about..there are many things on my mind which I WILL of course be writing about in the course of time. But which one first?..hmm...k I know! the Zuzus!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aren't they the cutest! except for when they are making those annoying noices! but they're just perfect. I've come to the conclusion. If i ever get a pet in an alternate universe where anything's possible, I'll get a Zuzu as a pet. can u imagine having that white thing running around. i mean its white and its bald!! he he....espeacially that add in which those two zuzu kids run away terrified of their mom or whoever is that with the face pack on. You know the add about the free beauty tips! those zuz kids are out of this world (figuratively i mean!)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now for the part as to why zuzus as pets. Those who know me well know my feelings towards children. So this is how it went:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "That does it! i want zuzus as my kids"&lt;br /&gt;Voix: "You mad or what! they'll be the most irritating things when they grow up"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "What are you talking about? They're adorable"&lt;br /&gt;Voix:"Maybe as kids...but imagine grown up zuzus..they're not cute and on top of that they cant talk..they just make those NOICES"&lt;br /&gt;K: "Shes right you know"&lt;br /&gt;Voix: "How do you plan to have them anyway"&lt;br /&gt;(I cant describe the process here, its a oublic forum..lets just say it involves me and a Zuzu woman!)&lt;br /&gt;Voix: "Great! so much for a sensible family"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Fine! i want kids who will be Zuzus when they are kids and grow up to be humans!"&lt;br /&gt;Voix and K (together): "Sigh!! We give up!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relections anyone?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-7947271099792785794?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/7947271099792785794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=7947271099792785794' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/7947271099792785794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/7947271099792785794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2009/05/happy-holidays.html' title='Happy Holidays!'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-701104138093180643</id><published>2009-03-03T18:07:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-03-03T19:39:46.617+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scribbled'/><title type='text'>Get(ting) Smart....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;July 2006: You come to college happily and are bold enough to take a room right on the fourth floor (in case someone is missing the point, we are in India, that too &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Jodhpur&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, lifts haven't been invented for the city yet). You think it'll always be breezy and nice and you'd be able to see the sun rise every morning over the endless stretch of what I can at best call..umm..earth (sand sounds too bland). Not to forget that corner of our brains which somehow always makes us feel that if we are buying a house with a nice balcony, we'll sit there every morning to sip a cup of tea while the birds chirp their way back to their nests (The next thing you know is we are moving out and you can't really remember the last time or for that matter, ANY time when you sat there and sipped that supposed cup of tea). So well, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;optimism&lt;/span&gt; fills your heart with hopes of soft mornings and soothing evenings &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;which&lt;/span&gt; you will spend by yourself in your balcony. Now it is important to mention here that these hopes are of course "to scale". I mean while with a normal balcony you'd imagine sitting down with your legs spread wide and occasional &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;stretches&lt;/span&gt;, here the hopes could not further than being able to stand in the balcony without moving a muscle if you wanna save yourself from falling off considering the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;unbelievable&lt;/span&gt; size of the balcony (I'm bad with numbers so just imagine space not more than just enough to place two coolers). But still, whatever the size, you have hopes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three mornings later : You have exhausted all possible abuses you know, that can even remotely apply to birds (Go figure). Your earlier bird-loving self, who looked down upon bird hunters with rejection and disgust, is now reconsidering itself and is wondering which would be the best weapon to destroy the entire pigeon species in a single blow. (Reason you ask?) Well, nothing more than the fact that in your lovely balcony there are more pigeons than air molecules, and your good old alarm clock never gets an opportunity to wake you up considering that you could never sleep thanks to some serious bird porno going on (talk about being violent).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One week after that: You detest pigeons more than anything you've ever disliked. You come to the conclusion that all that you were taught in science in school was bullshit about how all creatures apart from humans and dolphins have a specific mating season and produce babies ONLY DURING THAT SEASON (I think the people who came to that conclusion never saw the pigeons of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Jodhpur&lt;/span&gt;, because boy they can go on and on and on at it. I think the next big thing in science should be erectile dysfunction cure using biotechnology based on pigeon genes.. Forget Viagra!) So now, not only is your balcony absolutely infested with pigeons, but it also has numerous &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;lil&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;birdy&lt;/span&gt; homes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two weeks after that: Its the rainy season (You know what it means, lots of water in the balcony).Your nose has evolved into believing that rotten eggs smell good thanks to the constant pooping needs of the pigeons, which when mixed with water gives a smell which &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;umm&lt;/span&gt; kinda gives you a high!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have reached the abyss of your disgust!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some time after that: You can't get over the fact that your college life is flying by and so far the only ones who've sipped anything in your balcony while enjoying a soothing moment are the pigeons. You go about doing a survey as to what all are the possible remedies to make your balcony pigeon free. You get hopeful after seeing the nice mesh put up by the rich guy in the other hostel, only to find that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;it'll&lt;/span&gt; cost you nothing less than your entire month's expenses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you give up..you succumb to your fate and try to establish a cordial relation with the pigeons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An year and a half after that: You realise that there is a war going on in your balcony. Pigeons and sparrows have declared an open war on each other and BOTH of them have their establishments in your balcony. You start missing the sounds of pigeon love making which were so much lower than the sounds of birds killing each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some time after that: You finally decide that you can't take it anymore and something must be done. You turn to your very own magician who always has a solution for everything (Dad). You laugh at yourself to see that he came up with a cheap solution in not more than one day and you curse the entire genetic combination theory for the fact that you are clearly not an inheritor of his intelligence. So you come back to college, do a little market dash and buy a funky mesh which cost you nothing more than your two days food expenses. You gloat in adulation. Once the mesh is fixed, you finally get to see what your balcony actually looks like (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;hmm&lt;/span&gt;..I expected better but oh well!). People keep coming to your room and you are happily convinced that if ever there were an award for the best idea &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;that'd&lt;/span&gt; go to you (what's my dad's is mine :P). Lots of people copy your idea and you realise what it feels to be on the seventh heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All is going well till you go for a moot to Europe leaving your balcony totally unattended for 2-3 weeks. Only to come back and find that the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;m&lt;/span&gt;esh is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;doing&lt;/span&gt; a perfect job in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;keeping&lt;/span&gt; THINGS bigger in size than the mesh pores outside. But as you once again look around with a feeling of sheer genius over the idea, you see something which was never there in your balcony before. Aghast! you quickly lock the balcony swearing never to open it again by yourself. You share the dreadful sight with your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;floor-mate&lt;/span&gt; who nicely comes to the conclusion that this is what happens when you tamper with nature and act smart. He seems more happy with his decision of not putting a mesh than ever before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Present Day: March 2009: You of course are not regretting your decision to put the mesh. It still is the best thing that has happened to your balcony. You can't possibly forget the nights which you have slept peacefully without any disturbance thanks to the mesh. But one thing fails to escape your mind: What do I do of this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;freaking&lt;/span&gt; Bee Hive!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-701104138093180643?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/701104138093180643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=701104138093180643' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/701104138093180643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/701104138093180643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2009/03/getting-smart.html' title='Get(ting) Smart....'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-6893273025746786728</id><published>2009-03-02T10:47:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-03-02T11:55:02.296+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dedicated'/><title type='text'>A Tribute to Smoky!..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hmmpph&lt;/span&gt;.. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Europe: Lovely place..had awesome fun.. BUT.. in all the glory and glamour, amidst the shimmering lights and amazing sights.. I lost something (which of course I wasn't really discrete about.. ask anyone in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Den &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Haag&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;about a certain Indian who kept asking any random person if they had seen something which he had lost?).. I lost &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Smoky!&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Who Smoky you ask? Well, its a long story. I remember the first time I laid my eyes on smoky! She was a beauty! Black has always been my favourite colour. And it was the perfect black. Neither funnily grey nor sooty black. Just the perfect shade of black. Which made you feel oddly warm, and not like the normal cold black-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;holish&lt;/span&gt; cold creep that you get on seeing black. And what was more.. It was in a SALE! So it was the perfect brand, the perfect colour, the perfect look and yet CHEAP! Sigh! It was simply perfect. The moment I picked it up from the Monte Carlo, I knew that we were meant to be together (at least till I grew out of it considering my constant tendency to bloat up every once in a while).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So finally we bought it, all excited to take it to Europe with me. I packed it up nicely, right at the base of my suit case so that it doesn't get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;spoiled&lt;/span&gt; or soiled. i had saved it for the perfect moment, it was supposed to be my good luck charm in my moot. It was supposed to be my protector from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ruthless&lt;/span&gt; biting cold of Europe. But these bloody heaters, they ruined it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its still fresh as ever in my memory (actually, it really hasn't been more than 2 weeks). It was a Monday (or was it a Wednesday, i think it was a Wednesday but that's not the point). I was getting ready for the first round of the moot. I went, had a shower, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;took&lt;/span&gt; out the suit and then carefully took out Smoky, my black sweater, wore it, looked good (or so I though at least). And then feeling empowered I went for the moot. The moot went well. I can accredit that to Smoky i I guess. But &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;darm&lt;/span&gt; the heaters. It was like a furnace in there. I mean Smoky was just trying to help I know, you know, doing her job by keeping me warm. But it was so freaking hot that I had to take Smoky off. Don't give me those e-looks, I didn't have a choice. I never meant to take it off. You know what they say: "what's meant to happen, happens". I guess my act of taking Smoky off was just a pawn move in the greater cosmological conspiracy against Smoky. But little did I know that. Else, I would have NEVER taken it off. NEVER!..... Sigh! .... But i did!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was overjoyed with the moot performance. We were all chit chatting. And somewhere in the corner was Smoky, waiting in patience to be picked up. And i did too. I picked it up and then took it into the lobby with me, But there I was distracted. Had to go for some work and that is the last time i remember having held Smoky. That was the last time Smoky was in my arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that everything is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;blurr&lt;/span&gt;. The next thing I remember, I was in the Hotel where I was putting up and Smoky was not there. I looked around &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;like&lt;/span&gt; crazy. Everywhere I could see, she was nowhere to be found. I had left here somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the remaining days of the trip, everyday I spent thinking where could I have left her. I inquired everywhere, at the World Forum where the moot &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;took&lt;/span&gt; place, at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Chinese&lt;/span&gt; restaurant where I had had lunch that day. Downstairs at the Hotel if I might have left it somewhere. But all in vain. She was nowhere to be found. And the only thing that I could think of was: It was my fault! The others tried to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;pacify&lt;/span&gt; me. "Its not your fault". It made me question my very responsibility levels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I became desperate. I would ask any one I saw or met. By the end of the trip, I was known as the guy who lost his special black sweater. I remember that at the farewell party, so many people actually walking up to me to express their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;condolences&lt;/span&gt; over my loss of Smoky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I became REALLY desperate. I needed a plan. I jotted down all the possible places I had gone to. And my final conclusion based on elimination method was that "Oh f****, I left it in the Tram!". But I wasn't the types who'd give up. Before leaving, I asked one of my friends who was staying back to go to the Lost and Found Department and look for things found in a Tram. I was  so convinced that he would find it there. I kept hoping..hoping..till one day, days later after returning to college I found out that Smoky wasn't found. I surrendered to my greater wisdom and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;concluded&lt;/span&gt; that I should let go of her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is often said that we don't realise the importance of something till we have lost it. It was only after losing her that I named her Smoky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An thus, with this post, I bid adieu to Smoky, forever. You will be truly missed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-6893273025746786728?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/6893273025746786728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=6893273025746786728' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/6893273025746786728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/6893273025746786728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2009/03/tribute-to-smoky.html' title='A Tribute to Smoky!..'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-7891186268731015514</id><published>2009-02-28T00:25:00.007+05:30</published><updated>2009-03-02T10:44:36.071+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scribbled'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Funny'/><title type='text'>Guess Who's Back!..PLUS...College Realities!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;A very warm hello to all my readers (I am myself amazed at the usage of the term ‘all’ for the handful, and that too a toddler’s hand, who find time to read all this crap!). First all of all I’d like to extend my heartfelt gratitude to this very handful. I really appreciate you finding time to read all this and that too considering the fact that my blogging follows a periodic motion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;All those who know me would know what my blogging again means. You see, from times immemorial, events have been used to keep track of time. For example, when the sun is at such and such location in the sky, its such and such time, etc. Similarly, my blogging serves as a rather reliable clock (:P). &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"My blogging again signifies that I am totally jobless once again which happens every six months when my college vacations start and I, with the same hard to kill spirit, come for an internship only to find myself in yet another office in the day and a boring session in the evenings with nothing to do, except, well, bug all of you with all this!&lt;/span&gt;": This was the line that was supposed to be there in the post as I had initially typed it out, but then due to some technological screw ups i never could actualy post it. But don't worry, this re-attempt of mine at blogging also signifies my extreme boredome, except that I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;AM&lt;/span&gt; in college with a knee which is definitelyh not fine and is not even officially broken. Its a sucky Friday night and I've just finished watching "Billu Barber" (umm..ya whatever!).. the only outing I managed to have was to the orthopedist (remember the knee..cmon, you gotta follow the flow!) when the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;normal&lt;/span&gt; people who have a LIFE are out partying! :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So well &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I Am Bored,&lt;/span&gt; and thus I shall bore you! hoo haa haa haa! Let's see now, what do I need to write about. Actually, there is this entire list of things I prepared in my head which I had to blog about, but bunk all that, I found something better (for the moment).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For all those kids out there who are not yet in college, here is a list of some of the most commonly spread myths about a college:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I) Expectations Related:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) A college is supposed to have a culture of fun filled events! (phhoosshhh!, you are mistaken brother)&lt;br /&gt;2) When I'm in college, my life will be rockin so let me drag along nicely through my school days! (hah! wishful thinking)&lt;br /&gt;3) Colleges are supposed to be the way they are shown in Television (you better throw that box out right NOW!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;II) Academics Related:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Higher the GPA the more intelligent you are (yes yes, this is just to let everyone know that I accept that I might be a dumbass so dont push it in!)&lt;br /&gt;2) Lower the GPA the less intelligent you are (this had to be mentioned separately..cmon, you know, for those who have a higher GPA to understand better...shhh)&lt;br /&gt;3) Everything that I will read in a Law School will make sense (ha ha..no comments)&lt;br /&gt;4) Teachers in a Law School are supposed to know everything about everything (definitely not)&lt;br /&gt;5) Teachers in a Law School are supposed to know everything about their own bloody subject (surprised?.dont be)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;III) Love- life related:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Peple who ae dating love each other.&lt;br /&gt;2) More mportantly, people who are dating each other DO NOT love anyone else (get the hint!)&lt;br /&gt;3) Assuming that people who are dating love each other, people fall in luv only once during at least their college life!&lt;br /&gt;4) Every broken heart needs at least a month to heal!&lt;br /&gt;5) There is a limit to the number of times one can fall in love.&lt;br /&gt;5) Above all, good guys always get what they deserve ultimately!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IV) General People Related:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) A vegetarian is someone who doesn't eat meat (Who said....umm..cough &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Divi &lt;/span&gt;cough)&lt;br /&gt;2) If you're nice to everyone you will be called NICE and not DIPLOMATIC every single day!&lt;br /&gt;3) If you're DIPLOMATIC you'll be called DIPLOMATIC and not NICE!&lt;br /&gt;4) College level students are mature (the best one so far! ha ha ha ha!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I can understand if not all of you agree with what I have written. But if you do, please do let me know. And if you do not agree with them and in your college these statements are actually true....till what age does your colleges accept applications?!?! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-7891186268731015514?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/7891186268731015514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=7891186268731015514' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/7891186268731015514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/7891186268731015514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2009/02/guess-whos-backpluscollege-realities.html' title='Guess Who&apos;s Back!..PLUS...College Realities!'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-7106793259215328750</id><published>2008-07-03T10:31:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2008-07-03T10:49:36.651+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food for thought'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scribbled'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Funny'/><title type='text'>Lap top?!..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGxhV6QVVNI/AAAAAAAAAGY/0C0cyUvRic4/s1600-h/lap.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGxhV6QVVNI/AAAAAAAAAGY/0C0cyUvRic4/s400/lap.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218653097258472658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I had noticed this thing earlier but it never incurred to me like this. So yesterday when I was just generally surfing the net in my typical way, keeping the lap top on my bed, after I was done as soon as I picked up ma laptop, I realized that it was burning hot at its fundament, so much so that even the bedsheet felt like it had been freshly ironed. And that is when it struck me. Aren't laptos supposed to be used on our laps?! So what is this, some sort of a cospiracy? I mean if they really ARE supposed to be kept on your lap, then howcome they are so damn hot at that very place which would be ON our laps. Do they wanna burn us or something? And that is when I realized that I have placed my pally at every possible place, the bed, the table, the ground, even haning mid air at times with the meagre support of my hands, but never on my lap!! Ironical, isnt it? But the interesting thing is, it seems as though it was made never to be placed on your lap. Reaons? Many. Firstly because my laptop one of those sad HP Pavilion notebooks who's screen won't bend beyond a certain level (which level, by the way, is rather uncomfortable) so its virtually impossibe to keep it on yor lap and look at the screen at the same time. It's like Heisenberg's uncertainity principle, either you can keep it on your lap OR you can look at the screen with full certainity, to be able to do both fully is IMPOSSIBLE. Secondly, the burning base. I mean I'm pretty sure that if I keep my so called 'lap'top on my lap for more than 5 minutes, I'd end up cautereizing (I like exaggeration, so please don't mind) my sexy thighs (see...exaggeration!). Thirdly, if one actually tries it, it is damn uncomfprtable to use the mouse-pad if the laptop is actuallt on your lap. You inevitably have to tilt the lappy to make the experience more comfy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm..I seriously wonder if lap tops were EVER meant to be placed on laps??!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-7106793259215328750?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/7106793259215328750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=7106793259215328750' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/7106793259215328750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/7106793259215328750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2008/07/lap-top.html' title='Lap top?!..'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGxhV6QVVNI/AAAAAAAAAGY/0C0cyUvRic4/s72-c/lap.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-7596583682387103346</id><published>2008-07-02T12:01:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-28T10:36:21.723+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scribbled'/><title type='text'>A pair of additional eyes, the newest member of my life....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGswbegjoNI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/gL2jgPj0bx8/s1600-h/specs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGswbegjoNI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/gL2jgPj0bx8/s400/specs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218317841843069138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ever since I was in the 9th standard, I had been having these headaches which were very peculiar in their nature. So my dad, like a good concerned father, took me to the eye specialist thinking, like every one else does, that the most standard cause of a headache is a poor eyesight. The doctor after the test came to the conclusion that my eyesight was just fine. So I move on with my leave and so does he, and so do the headaches until recently I realized that their frequency has been ever-increasing. So finally after so many years I go to the doc two days ago, again and this time unfortunately he surrenders to the cosmological plan and breaks it to my parents that I need specs..I mean ME!! How? When? What the.....!! The sky seemed to collide on me! Poor me, unsuspecting, unaware of this destiny that I will have to wear specs some day. The doctor sensing my anxiety quickly said I think he more wanted to save me the embarrassment of yelling out in agony in front of the tens of patients waiting to be inspected), "Don't worry, its a very minute number and who knows, in an year or so it might even get reduced." I found solace in these words (though very little) and went home with a gloomy face. My parents bribed me with everything possible to make me smile. I of course, took all the bribes but decided still not to smile for some time till my sister called from abroad to tell him that specs are not hat big a deal and my mom lying without her fingers crossed that "I'm sure you'll look adorable in them!" So finally i managed to conjure up a smile and decided that if I'm getting something, I damn well be exited about it even if it is my ticket to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;chasmish&lt;/span&gt;-dome. So we all go to the opticians shop to buy a pair. And I must admit, he was a damn fine salesmen cos he simply refused to show anything simple (which in their language is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;bland &lt;/span&gt;or &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;out of fashion&lt;/span&gt;) and wouldn't show anything reasonably priced. Cheap specs was a thing unknown to him it seemed. He kept insisting that my age requires fashion and kept coming up with "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nothing but the best for beta ji"&lt;/span&gt;. He managed to blackmail my parents into proving their love for me by buying the best quality that he has. I of course intervened at this point and decided to go for something neither exorbitantly expensive nor something cheap. Finally I picked one. Have to go and collect it this evening. Hmm...but my mind has been on this for quite some time now. I try to evaluate my options, the pros and cons of this new a member of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pros:&lt;br /&gt;1) Considering the way I look, anything that manages to shield the world from the torture of directly looking at me might help. So that solves my problem. And everyone who saw me creating a scene at the opticians shop, fussing over which pair to pick, said that I look really good in specs (though I somehow think that was only to make me get over with it quickly so that they all might get their chance with the shopkeeper).  So there we go, hah! At least I look cute. On this my friend swordfishH (yep, dont forget the H lest you'll face her wrath) that if these specs are a part of my face for just one year I better trick a girl into becoming my GF cos as per her, with my natural looks, ints impossible (Damn you Sarkar! I look good ok. :P)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) I sincerely believe that specs add to your &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;intellectual &lt;/span&gt;look. So now people will see me as an intelligent, sophisticated and well behaved chap. I better start acting so though, you know, just to match up with the look).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Adding to the above point, somehow I've always felt that specs give you an authority and people tend to take you seriously. Hah! now mess with me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know what all I said above might not be absolutely true, but hey..let the kid have his peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cons:&lt;br /&gt;1) they suck! sob sob..ill have somthing hung on my face!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) The first few days are a pain. Why you ask? wel duh, firstly cos people do not so much as even try to refrain from bursting into fits of laughter on looking at you. Secondly, its not really a walk in the park to get accustomed to having something on your face. Thirdly, now i cant call others &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;chasmish &lt;/span&gt;ever (not that i ever have, but I would have liked to have my options open).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Well, no more being mister "I can go around bumping into things", no more being clumsy..Because the moment I become clumsy and fall off or something, my specs mught just break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Worst of all. One more thing to take care of. I mean what if I lose it or something like keep losing all my stationary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) They suck..oh sorry! did i already mention it! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-7596583682387103346?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/7596583682387103346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=7596583682387103346' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/7596583682387103346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/7596583682387103346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2008/07/pair-of-additional-eyes-newest-member.html' title='A pair of additional eyes, the newest member of my life....'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGswbegjoNI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/gL2jgPj0bx8/s72-c/specs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-6309381508845529043</id><published>2008-06-27T15:59:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-27T16:39:45.178+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trash'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scribbled'/><title type='text'>Times flying by....wheres my baby!?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGTKZxNuyQI/AAAAAAAAAFo/Rd2QcoCzXqg/s1600-h/baby.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGTKZxNuyQI/AAAAAAAAAFo/Rd2QcoCzXqg/s400/baby.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216516812458346754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So the other day I just realized that time is really flying by for me..I mean before I even know it I'll be 20 (sighh..there goes my Teenage!) and then one year from then and I'll be 21 (I know I know..you all know your Maths, but its for the effect), the legal age to get married or even adopt. The mention of this adopt thing has a very interesting reason to it. I mean don't you all just love babies! We all do! I toh for one have wanted a baby ever since I was a baby myself I think. They are the cutest things that ever crawled the Earth you know! But the problem is, I'm running out of time. I mean I've had zero relationships so far (not even so much as a fling), and the way things are going I'm apprehensive about being on my way to becoming that old Pantaloon who stays all by himself in a suburb and the neighbourhood kids come and ring his doorbell and then run away and he comes out and yells randomly at trees and dogs and birds...sigh! (Talk about having a bright future!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And above all, how will I ever have a kid like this (I mean I know the HOW..umm..but with whom and when?), you know someone to call Junior (though I never would call him junior..its the worst name one could address their kid by)..So then I decided that in case I never find someone, I'll adopt. I only need to wait like an year and a half now to be of legal age to adopt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then how could the kid stay without a mother? A kid definitely needs a mother! So my second option was tricking someone to marry me and then having a kid. On this my friend K had a rather repulsive thing to say, "You mean you'll trick her, knock her off!!, and then desert her running away with the child". Of course not! Now that I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;have &lt;/span&gt;married her, I'd be loyal and stay with her and live the perfect life and all. The only difference is that my ultimate motive behind marrying her would have been the kid. Because if I start looking for someone from the simple perspective of marrying her, there are a zillion flaws which I manage to point out in every single girl I've ever seen. Once I change my perspective (you know from "I want a wife" to "Now I just want a mother for my child") the only thing that I'll have to look for is a perfect gene pool. She doesn't have to be perfect anymore (unlike when I think from the "I want a wife" perspective), she just has to be a gene pool which includes great looks, high moral tone, smart, good to talk to, talented (at least as much as I am), intelligent (again..beat me at least!), sound medical history, etc. etc., which is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Almost &lt;/span&gt;Perfect, but hey! What the hell, at least I've come down from perfect to the almost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Theres one more reason why the sooner I have a kid, the better it is! You see, I want to give my kid the maximum time, the maximum luxury, the maximum happiness and above all, the best upbringing, you know with perfect morals and all (those who know me well would know). Now for that I need to be able to give them my best till the time they are old enough to look after themselves. So if I do not have one by the time I'm 30, I'll be 50 when they're just 20. I would be old, but they would still be not fit to cater to themselves (ask me, I'm almost 20, I know! 20 is definitely not the age when one feels ready to take care of himself). How is that ever gonna work out?! (Panic!) So that leaves me with only 10 years and 6 months to find the girl, make a baby and nurture him/her nicely or simple adopt (hah! now you tell me which one seems easier!) So may be I should have a plan ready. If I do not find anyone by the time I am, lets say, 27, then I go in for adoption and then marry someone later on (of course someone who I'm sure won't be an evil step mom).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while we're at it, if I have a child after marriage, then toh I can't really help it, son or daughter, so would be happy with any. But if I adopt, has to be a daughter. Dont know why? I guess its always like this: Women want sons and Men want daughters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phew! There we go! That seems planned!..I wonder if its because of these things that people say I think obsessively..We'll see about that when I'm nicely with my kid and the others are too late..hoo haa haa haa....newase....baby, here i come!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-6309381508845529043?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/6309381508845529043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=6309381508845529043' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/6309381508845529043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/6309381508845529043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2008/06/times-flying-bywheres-my-baby.html' title='Times flying by....wheres my baby!?'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGTKZxNuyQI/AAAAAAAAAFo/Rd2QcoCzXqg/s72-c/baby.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-5168876756724724718</id><published>2008-06-27T15:28:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-27T15:46:00.543+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trash'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scribbled'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Funny'/><title type='text'>Cheese up!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I was just reminded of three of the cheesiest pick-up lines I've ever heard. Before I say any further, I find it pertinent to tell all of you that I came across them on Television, so don't blame me for the content.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) A guy saying to a girl:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Madam, I am your only Adam!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean what?! Its old, its tacky and its sure to make the girl  either run away or slap him right there on the face (and if really unlucky, then maybe a kick in the...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) This is by far the most hilarious I've heard. This was apparently used by a rather aunty-ish lady on John Abr. (so he says, on Koffee with Karan). The aunty (I like calling her that) comes up to him, gives an ineffectual seductive smile and says with a wink:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wanna go for a ride, and I don't mean your bike!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woaaah! Where did it even come from? Its one thing being innovative, but its another being, well, plain and simple sleazy. I can just imagine. The poor clueless John sipping his drink away to glory in a bar (where by the way, I think the entire incident took place) and comes this aunty to the hapless unsuspecting fellow and drops this bomb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the interesting question is how do you think he would have reacted. My guesses are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"umm..no thanks..I'm out of fuel"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or "umm..may be some other day..it's a bit...rusty abhi"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or a plain and simple "No thanks, I prefer riding alone"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[;) They always said I was good with puns!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) There's a third one also, but its beyond the scope of this blog..so if anyone wants to know it..too bad! just switch on the TV and sit waiting for it to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cheese up!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-5168876756724724718?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/5168876756724724718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=5168876756724724718' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/5168876756724724718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/5168876756724724718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2008/06/cheese-up.html' title='Cheese up!'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-685614965582222992</id><published>2008-06-25T15:18:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-25T15:20:53.283+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food for thought'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experience'/><title type='text'>One day in the past....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;June 24, 2008; 2:00 PM: Today was almost like a day in the past. Why you ask? Well, because after ages I had some sort of interaction with all those people, who at one point of time were my routine companions. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I spent the morning chatting with a friend who is still in touch with me, but that gave the day a start so it counts. It felt like the old times, when we used to chat about the various comedy shoes that come on TV and laugh over them. We were laughing just like the old times, with only one difference, we could not see or hear each other laughing. Then I scrapped some of the really long lost friends, my immediate seniors from school whom I was closer to than most people from my own batch. It was more of a monologue (scrap you see!) because apparently it seems that in these three years they have forgotten me as much as I might seem to have forgotten them. I can still remember that it was this lot who taught me how to have fun, how to enjoy each day as it comes. The hours at a stretch in the Reading Room (where people did everything except for read). But alas, it all seems to have buried down the sands of time. Things have changed so much, no contact for almost 3 years. But I realized, maybe not them, at least I can make an initiative. I managed to have a scrap chat with one of my first senior friends, with whom I had had some great times. Further into the day, I added probably one of my oldest school friends on gtalk (yep, he wasn’t there on the list till now because in school we never used these IMs). We were like the academic buds, discussing everything before the exams and giving each other solace for the exorbitantly large syllabi. We chatted for some time and then decided to meet up (not that I hadn’t met him in the last two years, but still, it felt like a new start). All in all, its still just the afternoon, and it already feels like a “day in the past”, that past which made me what I am today, that past which is filled with memories enough to make me smile for a lifetime (oh k! that was sheer exaggeration but you get the idea!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;As the day progressed, I sat thinking about what college life had done to me. It had made me drift away from those people with whom I used to spend hours at a stretch at a point of time. They are the people with whom I have genuinely had the best time of my life (so far). They are the people who have seen me grow to become what I am today. There was a point of time when you somehow just expect that you’d forever stick together. They say that true friendship stands the test of time, but honestly does it? So I raised a question before myself-is it the saying that’s wrong or is my friendship with these people not true?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And the answer I found within myself- a little of both. The saying is wrong because no relationship remains unaltered unless you make an effort. I am not saying that you lose friends. Not at all. But things change. You might be the best of friends in school but if you fail to make an effort to talk or stay in touch for three long years, things change. If you’re lucky then probably you’re still friends, but it’s not the same. Probably it will get the same again if you stay in touch from now on: but then again, it needs an effort. So it all comes down to this I guess- true friendship stands the test of time provided you make an effort for it to stand. Else, it will never stay the same, it will inevitably change. Change of course is a part of life, for better or for worse. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Regarding the second part- was my friendship with those people true? Of course it was, depends on how you define ‘true’. Does it mean ‘unswerving’, then nope, never. But if it means that even after two-three years of not really being in touch, your face still lights up with elation at the thought of talking to them; you feel the same way you used to when you were with them, amongst them; you once again feel what it means to be really happy, without any worries or superficialities, not the adulterated happiness which one often experiences nowadays but genuine happiness….then our friendship sure is true. Then why do I say that it wasn’t true to some extent? Because both the sides, me and them, got preoccupied and lost. Both became so deeply engrossed in their new lifestyle that somewhere down the line, we drifted away. I am not modest enough to inculpate it all on myself; I say both were at fault, or rather, like I always say to console myself- “Some things are inevitable”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I realized one more thing. These people whom I am talking about, they might not have been my best or closest friends, but they were friends no doubt. I have shared some beautiful memories with these people. But I was foolish enough to make an effort for those whom I call “best” friends but not for these people. I will not generalize because I don’t know what you all do? But I know about myself that I discriminated between friends in a way, didn’t I? My law friends (where I belong now!) might say it is a “reasonable classification” (for those who didn’t understand, it’s a lawyer thing!) but life is not some legislation, no rules, no laws. This is life! And friends are those people who make life worth living (but of course, after family). In today’s world, practicality is inculcated in us to such deep extents that all our decisions, our thoughts are guided by it. Perhaps that is why we blow the concept of “moving on” and “accepting the change” out of proportion and do not even try to keep those things together which can easily be preserved, like friends. I kept my close friends under my eye, but lost touch of the others. And its not a very conscious mistake which we make. It just happens. What is needed is that we be conscious of not letting it happen. We make a mistake thinking that friends are substitutable, but they are not. No person is. Not even the jerk from school who made you realize how much hatred abodes in you. You might find new ones no doubt, and they might even be better (or worse in case of the jerks) but they are not the ones whom you have left behind. We fool ourselves for some time thinking that we sail new seas now. But how can we forget that the river from which we emanate is what makes the sea? That river in which we flew till now is still there, the only difference is- the sea which we now call ours is made up of many rivers put together. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There are days when you are fully content with the change, fully happy in the moment; with your new life; with new people. But these instants are interspersed by moments where you remember all that you have left behind, and it is in these times that you simply wish you could have one day…..just one day in the past!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-685614965582222992?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/685614965582222992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=685614965582222992' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/685614965582222992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/685614965582222992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2008/06/june-24-2008-200-pm-today-was-almost.html' title='One day in the past....'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-9050198243862624969</id><published>2008-06-23T10:00:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-23T10:08:58.940+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trash'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scribbled'/><title type='text'>Better off off-line!...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SF8oys-K7XI/AAAAAAAAAFU/M01Gkra5U7M/s1600-h/offline.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SF8oys-K7XI/AAAAAAAAAFU/M01Gkra5U7M/s400/offline.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214931745048817010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;My friend Divi met Brick on the internet and they eventually became the best of friends (more like e-brother and sister if I’m not wrong). So the other day when I found out about this thing at Brick’s blog, I was amazed. Not that Divi hadn’t ever mentioned it to me. But at that time, it somehow didn’t strike me like this. So I told Brick that this entire notion of meeting people and becoming friends with them over the internet is kinda creepy for me. And I set to wonder why. I mean what IS the harm in making friends over the internet? Why is it that I for some strange reason have never been able to think that it is very much possible for one to find a good friend in an e-companion?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Possibility No. 1&lt;/span&gt;: Having stayed all your life in an over-protected environment, you have always been told by the distrustful lot (who, surprisingly you don not even remember, they were) not to ever have reliance on anything that is electronic, be it the E-mail  or the E-banking or the EEnternet (he he). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Possibility No. 2&lt;/span&gt;: Just when you’ve turned adolescent and feel that you are finally ready to interact with people over the internet and you open your first mail account on Yahoo, you hear about this really great thing called chatting in school. So you go about exploring it thinking you would bump into nice people who would probably have nice things to talk about. A silly friend at school tells you to go join chat rooms where people discuss nice stuff. But just when you thought it’s gonna be fun, you somehow end up bumping only into maniacs who can’t stop discussing sex even in a chat room titled “India Speaks”. You try to get out of there as soon as possible, but your pace is slowed down by random chat windows incessantly popping up on your screen with people asking only a single question: “ASL?”. You wonder whatever happened to the good old word “Hi” but somehow manage to get out. You log off and secretly decide never to go on chat rooms again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Possibility No. 3&lt;/span&gt;: You’re soaring your way through your teens and decide to be a little optimistic about the internet. But then you hear of cases all across where people who used e-accounts and e-banking have been robbed off of all their money. The distrustful lot (remember? The ones whom I cant remember? Yah! They’re the ones I’m talking about) make full use of these deplorable examples to inculcate a secret fear of the people whom one can meet online. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And if that were not enough, you come across this news article about people hooking up online and deciding to meet up under the impression that the other one will have the same “asl” as he/she proclaimed, only to be disappointed and robbed or mistreated by some stranger who was nothing compared to what they had imagined. You conveniently presume that everyone who decides to talk to people on the internet is a desperate freak, who will surely lie about his/her specifications only to trap you into meeting him/her one day and kidnapping you to be thrown off on some non-existent island where you’d be forced to beg or be eaten alive (if you’re lucky).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Possibility No. 4&lt;/span&gt;: You reach the latter half of your teens and hear of this cool community called orkut. Ignoring the discouraging voices of the distrustful lot (C’mon, I don’t need to tell you every time?)  in your head, you decide to check it out and join in. So while randomly looking up at your friends’ profiles you find a weird similarity between the profiles of all those friends of yours who happen to be girls. They all seem to be having strange obtuse scraps from random guys reading nothing more than, “You hot, I likes, me good, want to be friendship”. Your first reaction is to thank your parents for sending you to a school where they made it a point to teach grammar along with the words (unlike in these cases). You feel this momentary sympathy for female kind because such desperate losers are found only amongst guys and you thank Mother Nature for making you a guy (Luckily, girls are almost never such freaks). You seek apologies from the distrustful lot hovering in your head (now giving you a victorious smirk in the “I told you” fashion) and decide that while on orkut, you would use it only to stay in touch with those whom you already know and never make new friends there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;You officially come to the conclusion that everyone who goes on the internet is either highly desperate or highly stupid.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Possibility No. 5&lt;/span&gt;: As you sit watching TV one day, you come across this News channel X (which has now become famous for being the news channel which sensationalizes almost everything, even a crow in Mumbai city!!) in which a scary man tells you how people who go in for online matrimonial sites get fooled in some way or the other. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Possibility No. 6&lt;/span&gt;: On top of everything else, the distrustful lot (They just keep coming back! Darmit! Who the hell are these people?) somehow convince you that internet surfing is an addiction as they gossip about how the only reason for a certain couple, Mr. and Mrs. X’s phone bill being exorbitant was because their son sat online watching porn all day. You, being the nice cultured chap you always thought you are, make up your mind never to be a slave to the internet and never to trust anyone whom you come across over the internet.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Changed Scenario&lt;/span&gt;: June 21, 2008; 4:00 PM: You sit thinking that may be you were wrong (but only a little bit!). The distrustful lot does not haunt you anymore. You have now grown up and you realize that it might be true that one cannot be too sure of whom to interact with on the internet but you don’t need to be scared or anything because not EVERYONE is a freak there. You should be open to the idea that there might, just might (I’m still not too optimistic) be good people there also. So you grow out of the absolutely negative notion (now its just plain and simple negative..but hey! At least there’s an improvement) and realize that internet is not a parallel universe with strange creatures roaming around (which you thought till now) but it is made up of humans after all (of course at the same time not forgetting that a lot many of them ARE still freaks..but again! improvement at least). All thanks to two people: Thank you Divi and Sukrit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-9050198243862624969?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/9050198243862624969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=9050198243862624969' title='25 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/9050198243862624969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/9050198243862624969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2008/06/better-off-off-line.html' title='Better off off-line!...'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SF8oys-K7XI/AAAAAAAAAFU/M01Gkra5U7M/s72-c/offline.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>25</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-6158718947224392178</id><published>2008-06-20T12:40:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-21T10:18:43.856+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trash'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scribbled'/><title type='text'>Mundane (ly) talks-Part1....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;P1: They’re crazy. How could they EVER compare me to Monica. She's a girl, and a freak at that too!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;P2 You ARE a Monica! A male version that’s all.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;P1: Well then its not a Monica anymore is it?....O ya? Tell me one thing in me which is akin to her.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;P2: Hah! One?!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;P1 (Furious): She’s a freak. She’s paranoid about everything.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;P2: So are you. Think about it. She’s a perfectionist, so are you. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;P1: I’m not a perfectionist.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;P2: Chuckle…… (yep, that’s all P1 got as a reply)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;P1: You appall me! She’s a pain.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;P2: Must you hear it from me? Have you ever seen yourself when you go about telling people how things should be and how they shouldn’t. I mean who comments on the way people &lt;i style=""&gt;serve&lt;/i&gt; &lt;i style=""&gt;water&lt;/i&gt; for christ’s sake!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;P1: Well, we all need to have basic skills.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;P2: Ahhh yes! And knowing how to serve food is a quintessential skill. And you say I appall YOU? OK, what about your obsession for organizing things?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;P1: Oh k, THAT I never do. I’m not obsessed about neatness or organization. Just basic order that’s all, which, by the way, everyone wants.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;P2: Hah! Have you ever seen yourself fuss?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;P1: Fuss?! Me?! What are you talking about?!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;P2: Hmmmpphh….! Fine! I give up! Now stop showing me those Monica eyes!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-6158718947224392178?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/6158718947224392178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=6158718947224392178' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/6158718947224392178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/6158718947224392178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2008/06/mundane-ly-talks.html' title='Mundane (ly) talks-Part1....'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-4903831256958583925</id><published>2008-06-18T12:22:00.006+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-19T10:21:24.057+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food for thought'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scribbled'/><title type='text'>Little THIS Sunshine!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFi0A-I6lsI/AAAAAAAAACM/_dD5z4MghFs/s1600-h/joy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFi0A-I6lsI/AAAAAAAAACM/_dD5z4MghFs/s400/joy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213114497454741186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;So the other day as I was impatiently standin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;g in the bus eagerly waiting to get back to the guest house wher&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;e I’m putting &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;u&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;p, I got&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt; thi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;s thought&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;. There are so many things in life which are so small and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt; yet they give us &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;su&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;ch immense pleasure and happiness. He he. It reminds of this part&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;ic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;ula&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;r Shaktiman dialogue: “chhoti chhoti magar moti baatein” (or something like &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;that. I wouldn’t know. My friend told me. Courtesy: Snigdho). It mean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;s things w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;hich are v&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;ry small bu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;t which mea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;n&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt; a lot. Or for that matter the famous Hindi proverb “Gaagar mein Saag&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;ar”. A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;nd isn’t it so damn true. I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;mean think about it. There are so many things which are like min&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;uscule &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;but which can make life worth living. So here is my list of some of those things&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt; which if we look at in the broader perspective, seem very small &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;and insign&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;ificant, but which give us a lifetime of pleasure at those moments, a pleasure which is literally beyond compare:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div face="verdana" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFi8PH4fMCI/AAAAAAAAADs/d4M4JUrT214/s1600-h/co.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFi8PH4fMCI/AAAAAAAAADs/d4M4JUrT214/s400/co.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213123536681381922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;Finding a bathroom when you have bee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;n wanting to pee from lik&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt; ages: is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;n’t i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;t absolutely heavenly. C’mon now. Own up. You know it is!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFjKWAIp3sI/AAAAAAAAAE0/An6RYk7aX_k/s1600-h/bus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFjKWAIp3sI/AAAAAAAAAE0/An6RYk7aX_k/s400/bus.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213139048023580354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;Highly contextual. When you have been waitin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;g for that stupid DTC bus from half and hour and you’re late and tired and its about to rain and t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;h&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;ere, ju&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;st when you were planning to take an auto instead, you see it down the horizon. Ahhh! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;heer elation I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;tell you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFi_UbL66mI/AAAAAAAAAEk/B2L8e3LzAiI/s1600-h/study.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFi_UbL66mI/AAAAAAAAAEk/B2L8e3LzAiI/s400/study.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213126926297393762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;Hmm, don’t now how many would share this on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;e. But supp&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;osed there’s a project submission the n&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;ext day and you somehow couldn’t fin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt; (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;which happens rarely but &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;still, it can happen!) or whatever and just when you had given up hope, the electricity goes out and it doesn’t come back t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;ill early morning and the backchods o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;f the batch bug the professor to death and manage to g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;et an extension. Yey! My GPA is saved!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFi8PXKbzMI/AAAAAAAAAEE/81xSVwsP9tU/s1600-h/happy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFi8PXKbzMI/AAAAAAAAAEE/81xSVwsP9tU/s400/happy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213123540783189186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFi8PagzWwI/AAAAAAAAAEM/4RvIJ0v5dHs/s1600-h/pakora.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFi8PagzWwI/AAAAAAAAAEM/4RvIJ0v5dHs/s400/pakora.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213123541682313986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;That first monsoon rain (especially if you live in Jaipur) w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;he&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;n you rush to the t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;errace with your sibling and get drenched and when your pare&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;nts come back from office in the evening, after a little scolding session for getting wet, you all get t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;o have hot tea and &lt;i style=""&gt;pak&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;oras &lt;/i&gt;in the porch (especially if it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;s summer vacation time!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFi_UbkcmhI/AAAAAAAAAEs/J495CBMEKEw/s1600-h/train2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFi_UbkcmhI/AAAAAAAAAEs/J495CBMEKEw/s400/train2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213126926400264722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;That journey in the train back home after the end terms! Ahh! This one is surely beyond compare! The anticipation is simply exhilarating.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFi_UIBeaEI/AAAAAAAAAEc/-YHGx0pEgcQ/s1600-h/result.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFi_UIBeaEI/AAAAAAAAAEc/-YHGx0pEgcQ/s400/result.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213126921153308738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;Umm..ok..this toh I know definitely a lot of people won’t &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;share, but every time your result comes out after the end terms!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFi8PT4gSNI/AAAAAAAAAD8/pHc0lIMnTSU/s1600-h/drive.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFi8PT4gSNI/AAAAAAAAAD8/pHc0lIMnTSU/s400/drive.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213123539902679250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;Long drives with your family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFjKWaQpwhI/AAAAAAAAAFE/NbR2Sx2KHXI/s1600-h/dinner.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFjKWaQpwhI/AAAAAAAAAFE/NbR2Sx2KHXI/s400/dinner.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213139055036449298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFjKWCaClUI/AAAAAAAAAE8/1BX4VTBiYqY/s1600-h/anni.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFjKWCaClUI/AAAAAAAAAE8/1BX4VTBiYqY/s400/anni.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213139048633374018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;Spending the entire evening trying to cook a special dinner for your parents’ anniversary while they are away just to see that expression of half amusement-half bewilderment on their face when they return.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFi_UDjk2oI/AAAAAAAAAEU/p9rZ4QRxFQY/s1600-h/hbd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFi_UDjk2oI/AAAAAAAAAEU/p9rZ4QRxFQY/s400/hbd.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213126919954160258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;Getting those calls from your friends at 12.15 AM on your birthday just when you thought they won’t call.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFi8PGOWSfI/AAAAAAAAAD0/F6A9Baux1N0/s1600-h/cuddle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFi8PGOWSfI/AAAAAAAAAD0/F6A9Baux1N0/s400/cuddle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213123536236202482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;The first time you take out the quilt and cuddle under i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;t when the winter has just dawned.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-4903831256958583925?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/4903831256958583925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=4903831256958583925' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/4903831256958583925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/4903831256958583925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2008/06/so-other-day-as-i-was-impatiently.html' title='Little THIS Sunshine!'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFi0A-I6lsI/AAAAAAAAACM/_dD5z4MghFs/s72-c/joy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-1410018461995490867</id><published>2008-06-12T13:20:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-12T13:39:42.848+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Mumbai-aaaaah! Part III:Roll-a-coast-Er!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFDWG72d9_I/AAAAAAAAAB0/qmgOcsK9jtw/s1600-h/rc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 116px; height: 142px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFDWG72d9_I/AAAAAAAAAB0/qmgOcsK9jtw/s400/rc.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210900183501371378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;My third week down, I was much more comfortable with the ‘city of dreams’. I had grown to enjoy the solitary walks at marine drive, the backpacking throughout the city, the breezy rides in the local trains standing by the exit, the occasional rude interjections in my mundane travelling routine when the train was spilling out people, but above all, I had started enjoying &lt;i style=""&gt;Mumbai&lt;/i&gt; as a city. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Ahem ahem! I find it imperative to mention here that my age old belief in everything happening for a reason came to be re-instated in my mind, only more vigorous. It so happened that I had nicely come to Mumbai under the wrong impression that all my Mumbai friends would be there, but not even a single one was there (not even the school time pals! Can you imagine? Everyone had to go in those exact weeks?) This made me, like I already said, re-discover myself. And although I whined and sulked in the beginning, but by the end of the 3&lt;sup&gt;rd&lt;/sup&gt; week, I realized that I probably wouldn’t have had such a time (good or bad) had all of them been there, and I liked what I had gone through. We rarely get opportunities to experience such days. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;So anyway, Divi and Ambi had come back by now and we planned a day out. Me and Divi had already spent a day of fulto (is that how you spell it?) masti the previous day and we were all looking forward to the Sunday when we’d go to &lt;i style=""&gt;Essel World &lt;/i&gt;(sighhh!. Mistake again!). Mistake why? I’ll tell you why! I went to Essel World with probably the most &lt;i style=""&gt;opposite-minded &lt;/i&gt;people ever! On one side I had Miss Crazy: thrilled to risk her life for the fun of going upside down on a ride, and on the other, Miss Chinky (won’t you agree girls? Ambi was looking rather chinky that day!): wouldn’t so much as get close to &lt;i style=""&gt;those &lt;/i&gt;rides fearing they’d render her (and all co-riders) infertile (ha ha ha ha..rotfl..it still makes me burst out) but would rather die of a &lt;i style=""&gt;craving for every possible food item available in the entire park &lt;/i&gt;(seriously, every 2 minutes ambi!), though she won’t even eat that much! Not that I’m much of a Bond myself! &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;So there we go to Essel World. Firstly, the wait for the ferry was like eternal. It just refused to come! And on top of that, that place funnily stinks of fish/or prawn/or whatever it is which these two uncongenial companions couldn’t even sense. Then finally we reach the island and look forward to what turned out to be the most excitingly boring day!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The moment we stepped foot in, Divi went crazy for the &lt;i style=""&gt;crazy rides&lt;/i&gt;. She wanted an undertaking signed by both of us saying: “we shall not chicken out of any ride and will accompany this crazy freak to ALL the rides”! I mean ALL?! She has to be crazy! Then of course, her love for us and her considerate nature and our excellent bargaining skills brought us down to &lt;i style=""&gt;moderate rides&lt;/i&gt; being ridden together and it was conveniently decided that she will have our full support, from a safe distance away from the ride of course, as she plans to risk her staying intact. We wanted a warm-up, so we went on this silly zig-zag going planes. I was made to sit alone for the first one. It was ok!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Then a few more rides and finally Divi reaches her dream ride. The &lt;i style=""&gt;Thunder&lt;/i&gt;! And above all, she somehow expected US to go on it with her! Ha ha! Nice one! She kept insisting saying that it goes round only once and you know, the usual crap! Well, little did she know that going upside down is the &lt;i style=""&gt;only &lt;/i&gt;thing it does. It must have taken them round like a dozen times. We watched as she went into the darkness and the ride started. And soon enough, I was thanking my lucky starts I hadnt fallen for Divi’s drama (and as it turns, so was she cos she knew very well that had I gone with her on that one, then if I manage to ever get out alive, she won’t!). We watched horrified as she went up n down n up again. It was kinda tough to make out her expression with her franticly moving hair covering her face. But the expressions of the others were worth the sight. Half of them were the crazy breed (you know, the Divi types) who were laughing out and yelling with joy with their bodies vainly protesting by turning red. But the other half made staying out worth it. One could easily make out that half of that half were already seeing flashes of their entire life while the other half was clinging to the hope of god getting them out alive. It seemed to last forever. And after that, when divi came, she was walking zigzag and yet beaming! (Crazy I tell you!) &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Then came the best experience. We sat on this particular ride which again had some sort of planes going crazy and I sat with Ambi. The ride started and so did she! She must have covered almost all the things which she wants to do before dying, yelling them out at the top of her lungs. And when that didn’t help, she found the best solution in continuously blaming the ride for turning the world infertile and how she would sue them for depriving her of the pleasure of &lt;i style=""&gt;making love &lt;/i&gt;if she turned out to be one of it’s victims. You know it’s funny how in life-threatening situations, a person’s true inner desires come out. As it turns out, hers was to get married and produce a battalion of bambus! In the middle of the ride she was even ready to compromise the choice of  husband and was trying to barter a good-looking husband in return of her life from her fate!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The rest of the day turned out to be rather uneventful compared to the extreme action that had gone. Of course not to forget, ambi acting drunk n crazy on the &lt;i style=""&gt;crazy cups &lt;/i&gt;(they DO work I guess!) and me n Divi making an absolute fool of ourselves on the ice-skating rink while Ambi nicely glided around. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;By 4:00 we were so damn bugged that we decided to call it a day (already!), went back and the last sight which all the others on the ferry must have seen was three idiots sleeping away to glory in bright afternoon as the rest enjoyed the nice cut through the sea!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-1410018461995490867?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/1410018461995490867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=1410018461995490867' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/1410018461995490867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/1410018461995490867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2008/06/roll-coast-er.html' title='Mumbai-aaaaah! Part III:Roll-a-coast-Er!'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFDWG72d9_I/AAAAAAAAAB0/qmgOcsK9jtw/s72-c/rc.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-3836865886863136085</id><published>2008-06-11T13:59:00.018+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-11T15:46:31.414+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experience'/><title type='text'>Mumbai-aaaaaaah! Part II: on the TRACK!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SE-l7IryChI/AAAAAAAAABs/H1hdJ6NjxM0/s1600-h/SP_A0500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SE-l7IryChI/AAAAAAAAABs/H1hdJ6NjxM0/s400/SP_A0500.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210565729252936210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Oh k! Time for part 2 people! This happened on my first Friday in Mumbai! A colleague of mine insisted that now that we have set out together, I might as well accompany him in the train rather than going by a taxi! Background: I had been traveling by taxi all this time; lucky enough for me the place where I was staying was very close to the railway station and my destination was just the next station. That’s why my Mumbaiya friends very strongly object to me claiming that I &lt;i&gt;went through &lt;/i&gt;the torture of the Mumbai trains. As per them traveling on such short routes doesn't qualify (:P). So anyway, that was my first rendezvous with a local train.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;So we stepped into the church gate railway station, he guided me to the ticket counter (him being a pass holder) and I qued-up. An observation here: If any one gets irritated by people breaking the que and entering the line randomly, then Mumbai local train ticket counters are not for you. Of course, there are a few rather brave souls who try to object in indignation (me being one of them for the first 2 weeks) but the fate of their words is the same as that of our petitions on the ears of the administrators (who administrators is only for the few who understood this statement to get). But honestly, it wasn’t so bad at all. I mean it was much better than what I had expected. The entire ticket taking process barely took 5 minutes. So then we set for the platform. Rather big let me tell you. Never knew that local stations could be so magnificent (I had not seen VT till then). As I always say, lady luck has always been rather generous on me. The trains in our route were never &lt;i&gt;packed&lt;/i&gt;, as they call it. Once or twice I did complain about extreme physical proximity between passengers, but as it turns out (again the source being my dear Mumbai friends): that does not even qualify as packed! We conveniently got nice places to sit (oh k, let me take back the nice.. we just got places to sit). I of course sat on the window seat and the only thing that I could focus on throughout the journey (which was only about 5 minutes again) were the rather silly posters that graced the side walls of the compartment. One particularly funny one read (and before I tell you what it said, it is imperative that I tell you it was handwritten on a rather shabby paper): “Want a job?!.. Earn Rs. 1,00,000 per month.. come and join us” .. and then a telephone number. Why I found this &lt;i&gt;advertisement &lt;/i&gt;a funny piece of literature is something too obvious for me to disclose. And then of course the one that amused me the most read: “sharab chudayen, sharabi ko bina batayen” (meaning: make someone quit alcohol without even letting &lt;i&gt;that &lt;/i&gt;person know). How the hell do they plan to do it?! I must admit, I was rather curious about that! My guess is they plan to tell you: “Give him coke instead of liquor when he asks for it..or hide away all the bottles and pretend as if you don’t know a thing.” &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;So that was my first train journey, unusually nice and comfortable. In fact, I must admit, I have become an ardent appreciator of the Mumbai local trains. If you ask me, I’d say that they are what make Mumbai go round. Ever single day after that Friday, for the rest of my stay in Mumbai I would travel by the local train, and enjoying every moment of it!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;But like they way: you can’t escape the bad things forever!! And neither could I. so it happened on an evening when I decided to go to the Siddhi Vinayak temple. I had to get off at the Dadar station. The train started from Church gate the same as always: filled &lt;i&gt;adequately&lt;/i&gt; and not packed. But as the stations went by, the number of people just seemed to multiply. I had never travelled beyond Grant Road, so had never known that the major crowd &lt;i&gt;pushes in &lt;/i&gt;at Mumbai Central. But luckily, even at Mumbai Central, the train though packed, was yet comfortable. So I asked a co-passenger how far Dadar was. He said he’d let me know. And so he did. But funnily enough, he kept insisting that I go to the exit even before the train had started slowing down. I of course, acting smarter than what my experiences warranted, told him that I was &lt;i&gt;used to &lt;/i&gt;the trains and could manage my way out easily. But as it turns out, I was wrong (Check list item no.2: Listen to people who seem wise especially if you don’t know sh*t about the thing lest you shall have a bruised knee). As the train went for a halt I approached the exit and reached the door around 10 second before the stop. I stood there nicely waiting the train to stop fully as the others simply dived out of the moving train. “Fools!”, I thought. Well, we all know who got fooled in the end. Soon enough I was one of the only three waiting to get out only after a complete halt. And then what I saw outside made me realize who was the fool. I stood intimidated as dozens of people eyeballing the exit door which I was supposed to get out from with bulging &lt;i&gt;lustful &lt;/i&gt;eyes, like a bunch of hyenas eyeing their helpless prey. I knew what I was seeing, but I somehow kept hoping and believing that all of them would be nice enough to let me get out before they attack the train for whatever treasure it is that they wanted. Alas, by this time I had simply grown used to being wrong about things in Bombay. But my realization was a lil too late. The grill that I was holding soon had one, two hands, three…a zillion hands on it unavailingly trying to get in all at the same time. Before I even realized it I was pushed back rather violently. But I was not to give up. I decided to retaliate. Wrong decision again (check list item no.3: never underestimate the power of the mob! Remember the story about the father who taught his sons the value of sticking together with the help of a bundle of sticks)! I somehow managed to dive out, only to land on what I think was someone’s face, while I bag limped helplessly behind me stuck between two rather well-fed &lt;i&gt;uncles&lt;/i&gt;. The face-landing made me lose my balance and my knew hit the grill and got bruised (see!..check list item no.2). but now was not the time to give in. I had to save my bag. I pulled with all my might. Seriously dude, stop making these decisions (check list item no.4: are u kidding me? Pulling a bag carrying fragile stuff mercilessly while it is being &lt;i&gt;guarded &lt;/i&gt;by three huge bellies.. who does that?) so I adopted an alternate plan. Actually I don’t know what it was. I just closed my eyes and did everything I could making full use of my limbs moving them in all possible directions. When I opened my eyes, the train had stopped, my bag (phew!..aww..ill never let you out of my sight!) was in my hand (looking molested), my knee was &lt;i&gt;now&lt;/i&gt; avenging my behavior (how dare you bruise me like that.. now bear with the pain) and the people who had got in were giving me the victorious look of disgust (hah!..that ought to teach you!). But I was happy, overjoyed..i had come out..ALIVE!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;And then there were the other experiences, like the one time when I dared to go all the way to Malad from Church gate and in the middle at Mumbai central, as I had been warned, the train was blessed with half the population of Mumbai. The compartment changed from a breezy space to a place when the only air you could possibly inhale had also been already used by a dozen others.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;But all these experiences made me learn a lot. I &lt;i&gt;emerged &lt;/i&gt;(literally as in the experiencing of getting out at Dadar) as a much stronger person. And at the end of the day, I enjoyed every moment I spent in these trains. Now, after spending 1 month in Mumbai, and 3 weeks travelling only by trains, I know why they say that “Mumbai local..Rocks!.” Cos it really does. The city cannot possibly function without them. And so today, I, with heartfelt joy, declare that Mumbai trains are the veins in which life flows through the city of dreams!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;And more than that .. I will always remember Mumbai locals as an experience that brought my pampered bickering &lt;i&gt;on the track!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-3836865886863136085?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/3836865886863136085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=3836865886863136085' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/3836865886863136085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/3836865886863136085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2008/06/mumbai-aaaaaaah-part-ii-on-track.html' title='Mumbai-aaaaaaah! Part II: on the TRACK!'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SE-l7IryChI/AAAAAAAAABs/H1hdJ6NjxM0/s72-c/SP_A0500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-4836775565341763696</id><published>2008-06-10T14:48:00.008+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-19T16:18:11.983+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food for thought'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scribbled'/><title type='text'>Dreamsville!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFo5U8tIuhI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Kde5MA9_Zu8/s1600-h/dream2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFo5U8tIuhI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Kde5MA9_Zu8/s400/dream2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213542550690380306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oh k..so i need to make this confession that i'm really bugged abhi (sitting in the office) so i need to do some TP..he he..it almost reminded me why i had created a blog!..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;For those (if any) who liked the mumbai post and wud like to read further .. ull have to wait .. cos i have something else on my mind right now .. something which ive discussed with my friends lots of times .. something which im sure im not the only one thinking of .. something which has been on my mind ever since i was a kid! Yes, that something is my dream life (or rather lives as you'd see)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember those times when you were watching some movie or reading a book, or even just whiling away time watching TV or something and you come across this particular style of life that fascinated you so much that you just dream of having a life like that .. well, dont know about all f ya but i sure did have a big list of those lives .. being a big TV buff as i was (and am), I often had something or the other to watch or probably even read .. and i would often fantasize leading the lives as those characters (of course, being the self-0bsessed freak i am i always thought id make better use of it than these characters ever did .. he he) .. but the point is i &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dreamt&lt;/span&gt; .. of so many things!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as i grew up, i realized i wasnt the only one .. soon, there were days when me n my school gang would spend hours talking about these dream lives and what it would be to be in them ..&lt;br /&gt;one more interesting thing was, my dream life seemed to change with my age .. i fantasied different stuff when i was a kid than what i do now (yep, i still am a dreamer).. so heres my list of the top..hmm..lets take 5 as f now.. lives to dream of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shanks' top 5 lives: (ooh..sounds..umm...freaky actually):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) and at number five this week we have the ever so wonderful dream life of shanks when he was a kid.. the life as a &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;planeteer. &lt;/span&gt;For those who dont know what this is, its probably not even worth reading this post then.. as a kid i was a huge fan of this animation series known as &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Captain Planet&lt;/span&gt;, with those 5 planeteers ( i hope this is how its spelled) .. an honest confession: i had no interest in saving the planet or anything .. it was just a sheer fascination for those rings of the 5 elements .. i was always very confused about which ring i would take if ever given a chance .. my top priorities were always wind and heart, but i would have been happy with anything i guess!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why is it a dream life?.. like duh! ..how cool wud it be to have super powers at your tips (or knuckles in this case) .. somehow i always had a fascination for the supernatural (positive) life .. it would even make the occasional tiffys with the bad guys worth it .. and of course not to forget the feeling of being in control of something other than..well..yourself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so there we have it..at number 5 the dream life of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;planeteers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;4) At number four we have...um..lets see... ooh..yeah... at number 4 we have the dream life of shanks when he was around 8-12 .. the life of a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;power ranger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; .. i know i know, even i find it funny now! .. but back then it was the best thing ever! .. i mean those funky costumes and marshal arts (wowa!).. luvd it .. see, this was due to the fact that any1 can take away your planeteer ring but no 1 can snatch your skills as a warrior! and there are added benefits in the form of cool gadgets (especially those watches)! plus you get to transform into that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;megasord &lt;/span&gt;(or whatever it was called..u know that big robot formed when all of the smaller robots used to join together) even for the whiniest of villains&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; .. &lt;/span&gt;so it was good enough for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) he he..umm.. we...oh k.. I used to live in the land of fantasy and magic till time happened and i grew up .. so naturally, the dream life now was more practical.. this must be when i was around the age of 10-15 .. i remember our summer vacations .. aah.. days at a stretch with nothing to do .. gosh! .. of course my favourite pass time was TV .. this ones also an animation but its a book also, a movie, everything possible .. it depicted the perfect simple life! .. nothing special about it, no glamour, no magic (well, ok .. probably there was magic but of a different sort) .. this was the life of the characters from the series &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Heidi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. remember the simple life of the alps, with no hustle-bustle .. only the mountains, your luved ones, your goats (he he), that dog which was choooo adorable! (i wanted that dog soooo bad) .. and of course mother nature all around! In fact, it was this show because of which i developed a fascination for the mountains and in particular snow! .. ooh and not to forget the perfect meals they had (hot milk with bread n cheese..umm..maybe i wud have chosen butter) .. but i watched it everyday .. being more n more enticed by the hill life! .. it just cudn't get better!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) and...at number 2 we have the dream life which continues to be a big fascination for me (and a LOT of my friends even till date, with a few modifications though).. yes, ALMOST topping the charts is the magical life at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hogwarts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; .. ahh, this has probably been one of my (and many others') favourite dream life .. i dont know where to start and where to end about this one .. its all soo good.. oh, but i never (and never ever ) wanted to be Harry though..i wud have preferred to be who i am but just in Hogwarts, it would have been so cool giving Hermionee a competition with the OWLs....!!.....sighh .. i remember when i had read the first book ever, it left me enchanted .. and from that very day i have had a fascination for this life, its been almost, gosh i dont even remember how long its been but i still fantasize it like the very first day, probably even more! .. with every book that came i craved more n more to be a part of the  magical world! .. in fact i have no qualms in admitting that this has been the best dream life for me for quite some time and it is still is to a great extent .. oh k, question: then why the hell is it number 2 and not number 1? .. well, reality comes in! somehow over the years we all just got used to the fact that it ain't gonna happen! .. but still, Hogwarts has and would always remain ONE OF my best dream lives!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) aannd.....(drums role)....topping the charts this time we have the evergreen saga, an epic...the epitome of friendship and probably every teenager's dream .. this has been my dream life soon after i grew up! yep, im talking about none other than the life of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Be it Joe, Chandler, Phoebe, Rachel, Ross or Monica.. they've got it going! .. the thing that makes this life so desirable is the fact that its so real! .. easily relatable, the friends life is just what it takes to give you a kick in today's rat race world! who wudnt want to extend those fun moments with friends to a lifetime of masti! but of course, one big problem with this dream life was- it kinda promotes going away from your our family, and that is why id always want this life to be in my dream only, am not so sure if id want it for real!.. he he..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so there you have it..friends bags in the award for being shanks no.1 dream life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****ahem ahem..and now here, at this point there's a surprise for every1..yes..now i shall disclose what is my actual, real, and probably the most craved for dream life.. honestly, all of the above do not even come close to how badly i'd like to have this last one..its so precious for me that i wudnt even want to give it a rank.. cos this is one is beyond compare!.. my BIGGEST, BestEST (he he) and actually the PERFECT LIFE is my own life when i was a Kid! :( ..they used to say growing up sucks.. don't know about every1 .. for me it doesnt suck, but it sure isnt nearly as gud as my childhood .. ahh .. those days of utter joblessness, no tension of career, no worries, no need to stay away from home doing stupid internships(&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;highly situational&lt;/span&gt;)!!, spending hours doing silly stuff with your sibling, yet enjoying every moment of it.. doing nothing in particular on new year's eve yet getting the maximum satisfaction out of those hours spent on the roof on 31st night staring at the stars with a blanket wrapped around you! .. enjoying each holiday as if it is the first time you're ever celebrating it .. putting those diyas on the roof during diwali! ..  those first times of everything! .. getting happy in the smallest of things .. spending those uneventful evenings with all four family members cuddled up under the same quilt (he he, which i always used to snatch away eventually) .. every single moment without fail feeling as though you're the most loved person on the planet (oh well, this one is still there so i shudn't complain) .. going to school to meet friends and spending hours talking and chit chatting about anything and everything .. sigh .. i cud on n on n on!..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess this has been the gift of age to me.. it is only once after i grew up that i realized how blessed my childhood has been .. all the above mentioned lives are at their place, but nothing i mean nothing compared to this one.. ive lived it for so many years and in all that time its only left me wanting more! .. i guess thats the biggest lesson life can ever teach us.. the lesson of learning how to luv what u have, becos ones its gone..ur just old! ;)&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-4836775565341763696?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/4836775565341763696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=4836775565341763696' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/4836775565341763696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/4836775565341763696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2008/06/dreamsville.html' title='Dreamsville!'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SFo5U8tIuhI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Kde5MA9_Zu8/s72-c/dream2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-9137963746032403186</id><published>2008-06-10T10:41:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-10T16:06:53.437+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experience'/><title type='text'>Mumbai-aaaaaaaaaahhh! Part 1: Home Alone</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Hello everyone! (by every1 i mean the jobless few who have the time and patience to read MY blog, which is probably the most inactive blog ever made!)..so first of all, I'd like to thank all those who despite the extreme boredom find the strength to come n see if theres ne new post!..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway...this post is about my recent adventure trip to....to...to.....wait for it.... MUMBAI!..adventure y?..ask those who know me...rotting all alone in a city larger than all the cities i've ever visited put together (exaggeration has always been my favourite) was nothing less than..lets say a footloose on the Himalayas!..won't say it was bad &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;in toto&lt;/span&gt;, i mean i learnt a lot of things, one being that im fully capable to rudely pushing my way into a jam-packed local train!..i definitely had some great experiences..some life threatening (thanks to divi, i almost landed right at the centre of the THUNDER!)..some great laughs (ha ha...they'll come in due time)..etc. etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but the best part about the trip was me discovering myself....u know what they always say: you can't REALLY know someone unless you spend time with them all alone!...thats what this trip was all about for me- me n myself. Not that i had much of a choice!..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok so this is how it starts...flashback!.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SE4ZcAqMrvI/AAAAAAAAABc/B7_sB6tY6Zo/s1600-h/mum.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SE4ZcAqMrvI/AAAAAAAAABc/B7_sB6tY6Zo/s400/mum.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210129787918266098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May 4th 2008..i rush out of ma house saying the normal ta-tas n bye-byes while seeing my granma cry like i was going for war or something..when suddenly dad asks "u shud take some more money with u"..so we make a quick detour to the ATM..withdraw some cash..and god bless my dad for that cos had we never gone to the ATM, my parents wud have never asked me to hand over to them the ticket while i withdraw without which i never wud have realised i never brought the ticket..so we make a quick rush back home..get the ticket..see my grandma cry a bit more now that she had seen me return and was almost hopeful that i had decided to cancel the trip but was disappointed!....while i (like always) went on blaming mum n dad for not reminding me....i reach the airport (luckily on time)..do a lil time pass (oh k fine!..so maybe a lil before time)..and fly off to the MAYANAGRI!..the city no doubt looked like a dazzling dream from up there..lights all around..skyscrapers (remember the exaggeration?)..everything very welcoming!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well..that was a bang on start for me!..now a lil background here wud be very helpful about my accommodation plans..i was supposed to be putting at a certain Mr. X's place (name altered for secrecy..secrecy becos im gonna be doing some serius bitching about the place)..he has this lavish villa in our city with nice cars n all!..so i was full on in dream mode thinking that his house in mumbai wud be just as much luxury..as it turns out, i was quite wrong!..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i get down from my flight...ahh...mumbai air (salty i tell u, even the air)..i am nicely under the impression that nothing cud possibly dampen my spirit and excitement..haha..&lt;br /&gt;i take a cab (who i still think had robbed me..it cudnt possibly be 250)....tel him the address and recline nicely awaiting the dream house..the sight was indeed enticing..i sit mesmerized as gorgeous sub-urbs pass by..but funnily enough, they seemed to be getting worse!..hmm...suspicious...there were times when there were one or two umm rather formidable areas..but they wud always go away and bring back the beauties!..but this one time the taxi just stopped at one of those dingy areas where u really wudnt wanna get down out of fear! (ahem ahem..please remember, this was only my initial experience..as it turns out eventually..the people and the place were pretty gud)..and he says "aa gaya sahab"..that did it!..i cudnt recall having had something to eat for a long time but my throat still seemed to be choked with something..i think it was my heart!..so newase..i had to be strong...i get going...then comes the great &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dream house&lt;/span&gt;..a building that luked like the 1st ones ever to be erected by the BMC..i had only heard of such buildings and seen them on TV but never thot id stay in one..i tuk a deep breath and ascended the flight of stairs..ohk 3rd Floor..and there it was..the flat..i tuk the keys and cudnt open it for half an hour..aparantly, as it turned out, there was a special technique to open it (check list item no. 1: learn this technique lest sleep in the corridor)..i tuk one final breath  and stepped in..and woah!..the flat seemed to be ending before it even started..yet again, my friends had told me about such compact apartments..but they sounded so much better in description..they kinda sounded cute..but this one surely wasnt!..the worst part was it had not been in use so had very less of the stuff we call &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;homely&lt;/span&gt;..but Mr. X's son was nice enough to call me and drop by and luking at my terrified expression he offered me the other flat [for just a few days]..i dint hesitate for a second (its funny how in such situation we always tend to totally forget our manners)..but i dint care..this was the first time i was ever away from home-alone!..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the other flat was very warm, homely and welcoming..so that tuk care of the first night..but as days passed..a constant lurking fear descended on me: im gonna have to leave this apartment and go to that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;box&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;soon....but that worry will have to wait!..as for that moment..i had bigger issues in my mind: my first day of office...(&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;coming soon&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-9137963746032403186?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/9137963746032403186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=9137963746032403186' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/9137963746032403186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/9137963746032403186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2008/06/mumbai-aaaaaaaaaahhh-part-1-home-alone.html' title='Mumbai-aaaaaaaaaahhh! Part 1: Home Alone'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SE4ZcAqMrvI/AAAAAAAAABc/B7_sB6tY6Zo/s72-c/mum.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-5072891599651937505</id><published>2008-03-09T15:29:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-09T15:36:21.404+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poems'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scribbled'/><title type='text'>Heart to Heart!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This one is a real short piece i just randomly wrote this morning...its short but personally i like this one more than many others cos it conveys a lot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/R9O2bixABnI/AAAAAAAAABU/DGqhmjOfpYU/s1600-h/heart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/R9O2bixABnI/AAAAAAAAABU/DGqhmjOfpYU/s400/heart.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175680981083883122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the heart is lonely, under the summer skies,&lt;br /&gt;u want a soul, who stands by;&lt;br /&gt;I know ur there, somewhere deep,&lt;br /&gt;not known to me, but there indeed;&lt;br /&gt;heart  to heart come to me,&lt;br /&gt;heart to heart i summon thee!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-5072891599651937505?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/5072891599651937505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=5072891599651937505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/5072891599651937505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/5072891599651937505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2008/03/heart-to-heart.html' title='Heart to Heart!'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/R9O2bixABnI/AAAAAAAAABU/DGqhmjOfpYU/s72-c/heart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-8222693640544146855</id><published>2007-08-01T20:52:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-08-02T00:54:20.040+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scribbled'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fiction'/><title type='text'>The Group that Lived (Live your life HP style)..Part1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I expect this to be one of my best posts..&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; know if it will be or not..but i definitely want it to be so....Ahem ahem, this is a storyline that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; starting on my blog...titles invited from the characters....and well...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;here's&lt;/span&gt; a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;lil&lt;/span&gt; background- Me n &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Divi&lt;/span&gt; sit chatting n she says wont it be cool to have the common room and no 10.30 bell..And there it is..she impregnated my mind with this thought.....imagine if we were in Hogwarts..!! COOL!!..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And so i decided to write it..and before I begin..I dedicate this post to my sweet dear &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Divi&lt;/span&gt;, who has always been my source of imagination...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lets all say once- "To &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Divi&lt;/span&gt;!!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;and so here it is...the first part of (hopefully) a good and popular thread..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Prelude: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Shanky&lt;/span&gt; always knew he was a special kid..he had talents which no one else had- like KEEN &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;observation&lt;/span&gt; power, a desire to top in everything and well, a habit of constantly correcting the universe!!....And this all found its true form when he got admission into Hogwarts college!!..the best place to be...with lush green fields..a huge castle..a forbidden forest (which he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; know wont be so forbidden after all)..and well, loads of other &lt;em&gt;magical things..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;But it is there that he met up with the people he never knew he'd get sooo close to..the people who were about to become his friends, his company, in joy, in sorrow, in war, in peace!!..(u know....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;blaa&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;blaa&lt;/span&gt;)....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Diva was always as her name described her..indeed a Diva..a born writer, who could control the world with her writings..she did not know her own strength..her magic lay in her pen!!..with hair as fragrant as blooming hibiscus..she never knew that she will find the boy of her dreams in the place where she last ended she'll land up, but which was her magical destiny!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And neither was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Kackary&lt;/span&gt; aware that he'll end up meeting the girl of his dreams at Hogwarts..while his magic lay in his innate affinity towards making things vanish..little did his mother know that when he was stealing his school girls' hairbands, he was actually making them disappear..only to be conjured back when he wanted!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Mauliks&lt;/span&gt; was always a heart winner..a flower by nature..never knowing that magic was flowing in her veins giving her the strength to live (and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;what&lt;/span&gt; a lively person she is!) despite her unnaturally &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;malnutritioned&lt;/span&gt; body!!..magic was in her everything, that inevitably gave people the impression that she was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;flirting&lt;/span&gt;, when she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;actually&lt;/span&gt; was merely using a cupid charm on the guys around her!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Katrina was the life of the lot..bubbly, chirpy, so full of energy and life..at a very young age her parents knew that she will prove to be a great witch (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;descending&lt;/span&gt; from a family of the royal pure bloods), for even before she completed 7, she became a master of mood-control charms, which were often the cause of her constant whining!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Sarpita&lt;/span&gt; was a hard core &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;witchist&lt;/span&gt;..from a very &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;lil&lt;/span&gt; age she had started advocating equal magical rights for witches and removing the trend of witches being made to wear longer robes than the wizards!..her rage was unmatched and when infuriated &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;no one&lt;/span&gt; could stop her from using even the unforgivable curses (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;gud&lt;/span&gt; she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; know them)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Sindhrina&lt;/span&gt; was a born magic..her organisational skills being accredited to her birth inside the ministry of magic due to a curfew during the dark lord's reign!..talented, sweet and an out of the way helper, her parents knew that she was perfect to carry on the legacy of being the minister for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;muggle&lt;/span&gt; affairs!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Sneel&lt;/span&gt; was a born talker..with a tongue as long as a dragon's tail..and a gifted child (yes..he was a..shhh...parseltongue)..who could always drop &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;dungbombs&lt;/span&gt; by his talks..he was very excited to go into Hogwarts after spending a year at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;Durmstrang&lt;/span&gt; School for Magical Technologies!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Bambi was an eye-catcher from birth..in fact, her mother remembers a St. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;Mungo's&lt;/span&gt; clerk checking her out even in her cradle..oh, she was there because she was very small (a day or so)..she accidentally step foot on a blast ended &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;screwt&lt;/span&gt;!!..Always a brainy witch, she had her own way with the wizards (stories are famous about her romance charm on the unknown G)..!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Tsera was grace and beauty personified..an Agrde polymagus from a very early age, she as hard to identify in her rooster form....When she was 5, she was found using her play-wand (special make with additional features like 'glow-in-dark', 'remote control', 'used as a straw', etc.) to bewitch her way into a muggle kid Kareeb's room..and so her wand was acquited and eversince she has been using an old tattered pink umbrella which is contemplated to be the original one with which Hufflepuff had puffed muriel in a duel!!..She can be found using her know-it-all quill to copy notes in lectures of "Anciant (the 'a' is deliberate ;)) and mediaval (again ;)) history of muggles from the Holy land of India'. She has often be found burning her hand in potions class as Professor Sushant Kehta gives directions to heat the poltion!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Vibs, a child prodigy..wrote a book on "How to attract Slytherins" at an early age of 13..Rumours occur that Sarmy the Sltherin has a crush on her..for which he uses choclate frogs adultrated with love potion!!..Known for her parseltongue grammar thesis..(her being a typical parselMOUTH, cos it fails to open beyond the snake diameter)!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Rooplectella, the witch with attitude..ever since childhood she was good at trying her hand at creative magic like conjuring birds out of trash..her mom knew she had it in her when one day she entered her room to find the walls covered in multicolour!! Tough to control when furious cos of the mood-spell that katrina had one day accidentally put on her!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Together they constitued the chirp of Hogwarts..they all were sorted into Gryfindor..and their firs encounter with Sammy (the infamous Slytherin) was in the express..but they never seemed to care........&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;the story shall continue...wait fr Part 2!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-8222693640544146855?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/8222693640544146855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=8222693640544146855' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/8222693640544146855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/8222693640544146855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2007/08/group-that-lived-live-your-life-hp.html' title='The Group that Lived (Live your life HP style)..Part1'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-7367691559459968044</id><published>2007-07-31T23:00:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-08-01T14:17:52.573+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dedicated'/><title type='text'>Obliviate!!..oops Sorry..Petrificus Totalus!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Well, the original post was named &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Obliviate&lt;/span&gt; till someone enlightened me with the true HP fan insight and made me realise that the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;title&lt;/span&gt; was anything but apt..so here it is to Her-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Sindhu&lt;/span&gt;!..Dedicated to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Sindhu&lt;/span&gt;..With love...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I of course will not be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;changing&lt;/span&gt; the original post..&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; though stupid but it is still the product of a fan mind at 12.00 in the night..but what I can do is give it a new context...so here goes..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;We DO NOT want the spell &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;obliviate&lt;/span&gt;, because forgetting Harry Potter (and specially &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Hermionee&lt;/span&gt;) will be like erasing a segment of our (at least my) childhood..instead, we use another spell- "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Petrificus&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Totalus&lt;/span&gt;"..to freeze these lovely memories..to freeze the anticipation, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;excitement&lt;/span&gt;, the love, the hatred, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;fantasy&lt;/span&gt; and at times the dejection....TO quote a very wise &lt;/em&gt;witch &lt;em&gt;"HP will never be over..&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;it'll&lt;/span&gt; just cease to continue"..So lets all say it out loud..&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Petrificus&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Totalus&lt;/span&gt; to freeze the HP fever...and as a tribute to this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Nobel&lt;/span&gt; thought...I request all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;comments&lt;/span&gt; (if any) to be started with an exciting recital of "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Petrificus&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Totalus&lt;/span&gt;"..!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/RrAzP3FjHJI/AAAAAAAAABE/LJZMWalEU40/s1600-h/hp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093627526134307986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 101px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 137px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="171" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/RrAzP3FjHJI/AAAAAAAAABE/LJZMWalEU40/s400/hp.jpg" width="126" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well, all those who are true Harry Potter fans must have realised by now what this post is regarding! Well, yes, it is a tribute to our beloved Harry Potter and what better day to write it then today, the 31st of July- his Birthday!!..Happy Birthday Harry!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The title says &lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;obliviate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; sure everyone reading this knows that this is a memory charm (remember &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Gilderoy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Lockhart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!)..used to erase memories!!..Well, the reason why I chose this as a title is because for all of us who have &lt;em&gt;lived &lt;/em&gt;Hogwarts for all these years, spent nights n days without any work, isolating ourselves from human society and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;buried&lt;/span&gt; ourselves in the books as they came along, we need to have this spell used upon us to get rid of the HP mania..I mean it is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;sooooo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; tough to imagine that this is it..there wont be any more of it, no more Hogwarts, no more magic, no more Harry and most of all...NO MORE &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;HERMIONEE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (for all those who have awaited the Yule Ball in our lives!!)..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I recall my reading of the last book (which by the way was not as good as I thought it would be)..but when I started reading it, I was overjoyed..feeling this is it!..the last one..the one where it all ends..where all the mysteries solve..where he who must not be named faces his own soul!!..and the like!!..but the point is, it was thrilling..it was intriguing..but the moment I reached the epilogue, the elation changed into this fear, this unnerving feeling..I was dreading the end!..&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; because something new might come up..but because it was THE END!!..the end of the age-old link between our lives and his..the inter-twined destinies of the zillions of fans around the globe finally breaks ties with that of &lt;em&gt;the Boy Who Lived..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And then finally, when I reached the end..it was all over..forever!..no more HP..no more anticipating &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;snape&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; being good and no more anticipating Harry being the last &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;Horcrux&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;..no more awaiting 3-4 months in advance for the book to arrive..no more sitting for hours together, digesting each n every line of the book (an extensive post-mortem)..no more pretending that there is still hope of Hogwarts, that in the real world they take in wizards till the age of 20 so that we still have years of hope (I cant believe I said that!!)..and of course no more contemplating the romance of Ron n &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;Hermionee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;..no more thinking that Harry n Ginny were a good couple!!..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093627762357509282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/RrAzdnFjHKI/AAAAAAAAABM/HkQMOI-DC6Q/s400/hp2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;From as far as I remember, Hogwarts was my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;dream&lt;/span&gt;-place, where i always wanted to go..&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;always&lt;/span&gt; wishing that I could also top the OWLS (I know I Know, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; sorry..but for those who know me..they'll understand)..I wanted to become a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;teahcer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; at Hogwarts later..I'm sure a lot of us have had their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;fantasies&lt;/span&gt;..so let this be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;an&lt;/span&gt; outlet..let it all out..what did u dream of when you read HP......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;say it all out..before we forever forget it for our own good...and say....&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;Obliviate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-7367691559459968044?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/7367691559459968044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=7367691559459968044' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/7367691559459968044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/7367691559459968044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2007/07/obliviate.html' title='Obliviate!!..oops Sorry..Petrificus Totalus!'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/RrAzP3FjHJI/AAAAAAAAABE/LJZMWalEU40/s72-c/hp.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-4495557397661496063</id><published>2007-07-31T00:02:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-31T00:36:34.202+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food for thought'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scribbled'/><title type='text'>I Walk a Lonely Road.....!!.....??....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Well firstly I'd like to apologise for not being able to write for a long long time..well been busy!!..Not that anyone reads this..but well, I do owe an apology to myself..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;So &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;anyways&lt;/span&gt;, its around 12:00 in the night and I have a History test &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tomorrow&lt;/span&gt;..still i got this weirdest urge to scribble this one down!!..so here goes..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093067827471129730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 128px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 137px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="150" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/Rq42NHFjHII/AAAAAAAAAA8/ltSKLRC1eSU/s400/road.jpg" width="182" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well, so off late I've had the opportunity of strolling all by myself after dinner, which can well be credited to the constantly increasing workload at college, which keeps most of my friends deeply engaged in some thing or the other. So, I walk alone..putting in other words: I walk a lonely road." And it is during these short &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;lasting&lt;/span&gt; rendezvous with myself that I got to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;realise&lt;/span&gt; a lot of things. For one, how much fun it is to walk alone!!..Trust me, I never knew it before this, probably couldn't have even imagined it being fun..And that is perhaps why i used to always connote a negative sense to the song - "boulevard of broken dreams"!!..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Elucidating more upon the lucrative nature of this newly discovered leisure activity, you can not imagine the amount of fun it bundles up in itself. I mean, lets start off by saying that you never have the patience or the interest to &lt;em&gt;observe&lt;/em&gt; things. Do not mistake this to be peeping into others business. Not at all!..But yes, definitely observing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;everything&lt;/span&gt; around you, as you walk the so called lonely road. You see so many people around you, majority &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;delusioned&lt;/span&gt; by the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;nicety&lt;/span&gt; of the company they cherish on these walks. They'll laugh, fight, run, &lt;em&gt;snog &lt;/em&gt;(this is a relatively new addition to my vocab thanks to the HP mania), do all sorts of things, totally oblivious to your eyes as you analyse their moves, actions, but definitely not their snogging (that is one activity I prefer to keep my eyes off)!! But &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;anyways&lt;/span&gt;, the point is that you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;observe&lt;/span&gt;, you see, you think and you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;comprehend&lt;/span&gt;!..Comprehend what? Well, that totally depends upon the person observing. Like I observe the social pretences people need to follow at times to keep up with their companionship wealth, while the same set may put up a show of hard-to-break bonds to some people. So there you go, each to himself (Herself).. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Then what do you do once you've observed. Well, you ponder. And soon, its not just you walking. It is you marching upon the beat of thoughts- both good and bad (I try keeping them good!) And then before you know, your much-cherished time with yourself is over, till you await its &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;arrival&lt;/span&gt; the following day and the day after that and the day after that and so on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;But above all, on these solitary strolls of yours, you are bound to bump into one person!..Probably the person who you ought to see more often, the person who has been with you longer that all others- and that person is....you yourself!!..Yes, it is only in these &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;moments&lt;/span&gt; that you manage to meet yourself, the real you, not the one who you want to become or whom others want to meet..but the one who has been there all along..you just failed to acknowledge!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And then, once you meet yourself..you'll realise that being all by yourself (which technically is always two as I just established) is not all that bad...Now is it?..So well, whats the harm if....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I walk a lonely road!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-4495557397661496063?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/4495557397661496063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=4495557397661496063' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/4495557397661496063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/4495557397661496063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-walk-lonely-road.html' title='I Walk a Lonely Road.....!!.....??....'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/Rq42NHFjHII/AAAAAAAAAA8/ltSKLRC1eSU/s72-c/road.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-3831419568656497971</id><published>2007-02-28T23:14:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-02-28T23:23:24.214+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poems'/><title type='text'>The Eyes</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Now this one is a poem which I recently scribbled down while sitting in the class (;-)..nothing much to it, open to all sorts of interpretations!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;eyes&lt;/span&gt; that have but tons to speak,&lt;br /&gt;the eyes that spend the nights &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;unsleep&lt;/span&gt;;&lt;br /&gt;the eyes that talk and make you stop,&lt;br /&gt;the eyes that cry when moments try;&lt;br /&gt;the eyes that love, the eyes that hate,&lt;br /&gt;the eyes that trust, the eyes that gape;&lt;br /&gt;the eyes that are the doors of heart,&lt;br /&gt;that spill all and make apart;&lt;br /&gt;what lies beneath deep down inside,&lt;br /&gt;the feelings unsaid, the broken lies;&lt;br /&gt;the love, the pain,&lt;br /&gt;the loss, the gain;&lt;br /&gt;at times when words can't say it out,&lt;br /&gt;it is the eyes that make aloud;&lt;br /&gt;the feelings that need a form to be,&lt;br /&gt;a moment of expression, to understand thee;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now I close these eyes to you,&lt;br /&gt;never again would they be true;&lt;br /&gt;never again will you hear them speak,&lt;br /&gt;what's left unsaid, what lies beneath!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-3831419568656497971?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/3831419568656497971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=3831419568656497971' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/3831419568656497971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/3831419568656497971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2007/02/eyes.html' title='The Eyes'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-4392807328362186449</id><published>2007-01-27T18:53:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-01-27T19:04:21.023+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feelings'/><title type='text'>The path I once chose....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/RbtU09NrlnI/AAAAAAAAAAk/W27Ab0u1OTc/s1600-h/simasher_mavi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024703078023796338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/RbtU09NrlnI/AAAAAAAAAAk/W27Ab0u1OTc/s400/simasher_mavi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;, now i really can't call this one a poem..but i cant call it a pure pros as well..hmm..well, i guess ill call it a combo of the two..and people, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; go by the words &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;, i am not this negative all the time!..but its good to be pensive once in a while!..so here goes......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had started from those crossroads thinking that I'll never see them again. But alas, today i am back there, once again, the people have changed but the pain they caused is the same.&lt;br /&gt;I remember the path which I once chose to take, but forgive me my heart, I know that I failed. It was my resolution that I never will, fall in love the day &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;until&lt;/span&gt;; things will change and the tables would turn, for a change it won't be mine but their hearts that burn.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone says be practical, learn to see between the lines; people pretend with open minds. But I always thought it was not true; if there is true love, we'll always make it through. For nothing can ever be stronger than love, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;coz&lt;/span&gt; its not the minds but the hearts that lush. You can always think that that you go by the mind, but I claim that its not so in mine. When god made the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;mind&lt;/span&gt; to win over others, he realised that this is not what he wants his world to be. And then came the life that beats within all- the pain, the joy, the envy, the blush- yes, it was the heart indeed to control the mind that goes and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;fleeks&lt;/span&gt;. It is love that makes the world go round; you may stop the mind but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;there'll&lt;/span&gt; be the sound; of that heart that beats inside, not for you but for those you might..!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today i see it was stupid of me; the world goes not with the heart, but the mind it seems. The sooner I get it the better it is, I know now it was me who was wrong. And now I am back at those &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;crossraods&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; i choose to yet again go on the path i once chose. But all I ask this time is a little more strength, cause being hurt is what i want never again. I want that this time /i don't detour and keep going on...the path i once chose!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;hmm&lt;/span&gt;..well &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; it..now i know its slightly sad..actually its just very unexpected from someone like me(those who know me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;wud&lt;/span&gt; know)..but what the hell, i just scribbled it down and whatever it is (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;altho&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; still wondering where it came from), its an original!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-4392807328362186449?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/4392807328362186449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=4392807328362186449' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/4392807328362186449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/4392807328362186449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2007/01/path-i-once-chose.html' title='The path I once chose....'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/RbtU09NrlnI/AAAAAAAAAAk/W27Ab0u1OTc/s72-c/simasher_mavi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-7307227809038660864</id><published>2007-01-08T17:33:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-01-08T18:12:22.950+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food for thought'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experience'/><title type='text'>The Guard and the Bubble</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well, this is another one of my personal philosophies dealing with the two different type of introverts.&lt;br /&gt;One day as I sat looking at a child in the street blowing out bubbles from that little thing that vendors sell at typical primitive urban settlements. The bubble seemed so beautiful indeed, with all the seven colours making momentary appearances as though playing to decide which one comes first and which later. And then of course, we had read about the scientific aspects of bubble formation making me realise that it after all isn't as simple as it looks. I mean what we see is just a transparent sphere that genuinely makes us believe that what we see is what is the reality, what lies beneath. But then I realised, as I was taught, that it is not just that, it is not just what is visible, it is actually a double-layered structure with various complexities involved. Thus, the lesson that comes through is, what we see is far from what actually lies within.&lt;br /&gt;Well, there we go, I have developed a base for my philosophy. So now we get started. All of us have some day or the other heard of the phrase "to have a guard on", which means that the person being talked of always has a kind of wall in front of him or her, more like a shield, to prevent other people from closing in. People definitely have different reasons for having a guard on, some have it because they are afraid of getting close to others, while others can be just called shear introverts. But this is where my philosophy comes, I think there are two types of introverts, one the "guard on" type while the other the "inside a bubble" type. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Now what is this "inside the bubble"? I believe that introverts do not necessarily need to have a "guard on". There is a much &lt;em&gt;smarter &lt;/em&gt;type of introverts, who make you believe that you can see the person through, but in reality, what you see is nothing more than what we see inside a bubble, forgetting that in reality there is not just one, but two layers (though transparent) between you and the truth of the other person. But the very fact that they are transparent makes you fall for the &lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;illusionary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;truth &lt;/em&gt;of their personalities. And it really is tough to get to know when the person is actually transparent and when he or she is inside the bubble. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Having a guard on, on the other, is the normal style of introverts, who may be called the &lt;em&gt;original &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;unevolved&lt;/span&gt; introverts.&lt;/em&gt; It is like having a wall in front of somebody, i.e., you cannot see through, no illusion, no false hopes, just no vision at all. The point is, for these people, the other person can easily get the feeling that he or she has a guard on, that I cannot easily break through this thick wall and that he or she may require some time to pull it down. Here there is no illusion, its all the reality, i.e., you can see that he's not letting you close in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So there we go, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; my theory..on one side there are people who can be easily seen to be introverts and on the other side there are these &lt;em&gt;disguised &lt;/em&gt;introverts who make you believe that they are not. Its all about being not able to see through a wall as opposed to being able to see a lot inside a bubble, but not realising that that is not the complete truth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Now, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; where my theory ends. But my dear friend &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Divi&lt;/span&gt; came up with an addition to that. See says that in a bubble you always see different colours, at times one is more prominent, while at other times, another totally steals the show. So that means that such people seem to be different at different times (that is to the best of my interpretation, I'm sorry if its wrong &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Divi&lt;/span&gt;, you can always correct me!). And this really amazes you how one person can have so many &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;different&lt;/span&gt; sides. It bedazzles you because you were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;apparently&lt;/span&gt; living under the false impression that you know that person but nope!, and then he or she does something that just makes you think "where did that come from?"..but its all about realising that you actually do not know that person, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;coz&lt;/span&gt; hello!..remember the bubble, what you see are all the different colours from outside being reflected in that person. Here I provide another aspect, it also shows that such people are also very good at camouflaging with the surrounding, because they are so busy trying to hide their real self that they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; see this coming that they are actually just reflecting the colours of the outside..seems so void (at least to me), doesn' it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-7307227809038660864?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/7307227809038660864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=7307227809038660864' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/7307227809038660864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/7307227809038660864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2007/01/guard-and-bubble.html' title='The Guard and the Bubble'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-8724085442227159101</id><published>2006-12-04T14:31:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-12-04T19:58:41.724+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food for thought'/><title type='text'>Is divinity divine?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well, I thought of writing this article after reading my friend Divya's write up on divinity at her blog &lt;a href="http://poignantrose.blogspot.com/2006/08/divinity-defined.html"&gt;http://poignantrose.blogspot.com/2006/08/divinity-defined.html&lt;/a&gt;. When I commented on that article, I realised its about time I write my views on the same...so here goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/RXQvgPOfJoI/AAAAAAAAAAM/dx12kVEmzRU/s1600-h/divinity.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5004677316805076610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/RXQvgPOfJoI/AAAAAAAAAAM/dx12kVEmzRU/s400/divinity.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, as Divya had said that she does not believe in the concept of religion, in submitting to a supreme power when you need help, she does not believe in the exploitation done, the commercialisation done through religion. Said she rather believed in the entities (the pagan way), the sun, the moon, nature!!..So, I was thinking about it and this is what I guess my views are (I write I guess because there are some things, some topics on which you cannot be so sure of your views..but that's the beauty of thought!!)....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is very much true that religion indeed has been exploited..the cacophony, the excessive trade, everything just supports the claim!!..But then, like I had told her, is it not into the very human nature to exploit anything and everything to its own benefit. I mean, the human society has a tendency of using everything that involves more than one person. Lets assume a situation where there was no religion, no god to worship..lets assume the pagan days when human faith would rest upon nature. If such were the case, then how can we be so sure that the sun, the moon, the stars, nature would not been exploited. Well, I'm pretty sure they would have ;because like I said, its in the very human nature to exploit anything that can be beneficial for it, even in the remotest of ways. There are so many things around us that are used up for one motive or the other, but that does not and should not stop us from continuing believing in the same..that would be against the very concept of individuality!!..I mean our belief on anything should not be dependant upon what is happening to that particular thing..there are loads of bad things in the world..but keeping faith and continuing your belief is what is making the world go round..But in no way am I contradicting Divi's point.Both the views lead to the same conclusion-Its all about choice!! Yep, it was her choice not to believe in religion because of the exploitation that was being done, which is perfectly fine in a way!! But my choice is to continue having faith because i believe not in religion, but I have faith in the human faith!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, by the way, please do not think that just because I'm supporting religion means I'm religious..its slightly more complicated than that!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Like I said, I do not believe in religion, i just have faith in the human faith! I believe in the power of the human will, I believe in the divinity of humanity. It is not religion that is divine, it is the human belief that is. Is it not surprising how conveniently we take humans to be the centre of the universe- I mean think about it, be it any religion, gods are always taken to resemble human beings..Brahma created the universe and the amazing thing is he looked like nothing else but a human!!..I guess had animals had the potential to rule the planet and communicate, they would have pictured god as an animal, won't they? But we have just never ever questioned this have we? U know why?..because its not really the form given to god that we believe in, but we believe in the human thought that gave rise to that form and hence, we never question it!!..I mean I am a very strong believer of god..and I m pretty sure everyone is, even those who call themselves atheist..but my belief is not in any particular god, but I very much believe in every religion..because if you ask me, religion is not about god..its about the humans, its about the way of life..its about what should be the ideal behaviour: but who would listen to it just like that, so for that we gave it the supreme tag of god's commandment. And it makes total sense..god is everywhere..he (or she) is within us, he is the human thought that created religion, he is the human faith that helps us go through the toughest of times. God is not any entity, he is just a force..one force that survives on faith..and this force is so beautifully embroidered into the fabric of life that it just amazes me!!..Science can never, doesn't matter how much it tries, explain everything, because its not supposed to..but neither can religion..so there we are, what we have is a perfect combination of religion and science, each complimenting the other!!..none alone can stand, none alone can satisfy!!..All is one and one is all- a cosmological conspiracy..yes, god is in our thoughts..for me, god might be in my parents, for others in a statue!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;As for surrendering to a supreme power,I think that's very interesting..another one of the mysteries of the human kind!!..i mean think about it, none of us can deny (OK! maybe some can!) that keeping faith in one supreme power has helped us in tough times, the thought of having one hand above us has given us light in the dark, hasn't it?..but i still stand strong in my views..its yet again nothing but human faith..it is this human faith that gives strength to humans themselves and they become their own destiny makers..of course, there are times when you do need to surrender and it is in those times that the human faith establishes a nexus between the humans and the supreme power, the force that I talked of..so basically, my philosophy is: it all comes to one word: faith...a choice..and whatever you choose have faith in it..The force does not want worshipping, it does not want religion..all it wants is faith..the biggest religion always was and will always be humanity, the religion of love, the religion of harmony!! (i do not wish to elucidate any further upon the religion of humanity because i think its too cliche and all know of it)..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So, there we go: Divinity is indeed divine..everything is..the moment you have faith (in anything) you get in touch with this divinity!!..so my message to all will be, just have faith..be it in religion, be it in god, be it in anything..but just have &lt;strong&gt;faith&lt;/strong&gt;!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-8724085442227159101?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/8724085442227159101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=8724085442227159101' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/8724085442227159101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/8724085442227159101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2006/12/is-divinity-divine.html' title='Is divinity divine?'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/RXQvgPOfJoI/AAAAAAAAAAM/dx12kVEmzRU/s72-c/divinity.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-6721385711068678549</id><published>2006-12-02T13:42:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-12-04T19:43:42.489+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food for thought'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scribbled'/><title type='text'>The KISS theorem....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well, this is not exactly a thoughtful write-up...but just something which i wish to share with all of you, particularly the writers. In my school, we had a magazine and I was one of the editors. So, when our names were announced as the editors for the year, i totally bloated up with joy (although a few insiders had leaked out the info in advance....but the joy of being pleasantly surprised is just too &lt;em&gt;pleasant &lt;/em&gt;to miss). That very afternoon, we had our first official meeting as &lt;em&gt;the editors&lt;/em&gt; (excuse me for using the term too often, but it just adds to the effect!). The previous year's editor-in-chief gave a small welcome speech and then started off with the serious part. And the first thing that she said was,"what do you think when you write". The opinions that emerged were swinging in the spectrum ranging from-"each word has to be well calculated and its effect must be assessed"...to..."duh! when you write, just don't think, thats the beauty of it". Satisfied that the new editors had representatives from all genres of thought, she proceeded on the next question, or rather a sub-question- "well, ok, that sounds nice...tell me, what should your language be like?"..Yet again the human disparity of thought had its say. And on that she said-"fine &lt;em&gt;kids &lt;/em&gt;(maybe she liked calling us that)!, here comes your first lesson as writers- the KISS theorem". And on the very mention of the word, some exchanged weird looks depicting that their immaturity wasnt that repressed after all!! And then she elucidated...well, the theorem was given by one of the most famous english teachers of our school..standing for 'Keep It Simple Stupid'...it had become a commandement for the editors of the school magazine..it stood for writing in a simple language..."you do not really need to show off that you deserve to be a writer by writing bombastic words or writing language, which the majority fail to comprehend...", was what he used to say,"...your spirit, your real talent as a writer lies in writing such that everyone who comes across your piece can easily take it in..you dont want it to go in with a jerky ride, now do ya? Its about having control over yourself, not to boast for it truly is the most dominating and luring of all human flaws....your writings should not be targetted on the elite but should be for everyone."....And that was our first lesson in writing..to keep it simple,stupid....dont know if we managed to keep that in mind while writing, but now I have grown to be a personal believer of the theorem....I mean think about it, im sure there are loads of writers out there who have more words in their vocabulary than stars in the night sky.... but doesnt the kiss theorem make a lot of sense..i know that nobody writes for others....we all write for ourselves but somewhere, isnt the very purpose of writing to express yourself and expression is not a solitary affair..it needs to be done on somebody, expression needs to have an object on which, or precisely on whom, you express your views....if that be the case, then the theorem stands correct, the expression should at least be such that is comprehendible to all!!..It really made an impact on me, cant say have been successful in writing as simple as possible but can definitely boast of a certain progress!!..well, maybe thats for those to figure out who read what I write huh!!..But I personally feel that at least this theorem should be told to all those who want to write..i mean whats the harm in knowing....think about it..just &lt;em&gt;keep it simple stupid&lt;/em&gt;!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-6721385711068678549?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/6721385711068678549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=6721385711068678549' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/6721385711068678549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/6721385711068678549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2006/12/kiss-theorem.html' title='The KISS theorem....'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-2920891326831688883</id><published>2006-12-01T01:26:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-12-04T19:44:57.399+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poems'/><title type='text'>No Strings Attached</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;(Well, there it is..another one of my poems..written in the 11th standard, a time full of nostalgia, a time when ur 12 years of school life seem so precious and time seems to be slipping out of your hands!! It is basically a tribute to my almamater, my school!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I look across the sands of time,&lt;br /&gt;A feeling of remorse,&lt;br /&gt;A desperate whine;&lt;br /&gt;For present must one day,&lt;br /&gt;Become but the past,&lt;br /&gt;And all I can say is "no strings attached".&lt;br /&gt;These days I'll cherish,&lt;br /&gt;These moments I'll retain;&lt;br /&gt;These thoughts would forever,&lt;br /&gt;In my mind cause pain.&lt;br /&gt;But how can I, when none could do,&lt;br /&gt;Freeze the time, that's meant to rule;&lt;br /&gt;So I console myself, I've got what I had,&lt;br /&gt;And all I can say,&lt;br /&gt;Is "no strings attached".&lt;br /&gt;I should say I was nothing,&lt;br /&gt;But another anxious face;&lt;br /&gt;Who thought this'll last forever,&lt;br /&gt;But alas! Was in vain.&lt;br /&gt;Several have come &amp; several went by,&lt;br /&gt;But none could help, none could sly;&lt;br /&gt;Then why does it hurt,&lt;br /&gt;Why am I trapped,&lt;br /&gt;For all I can say,&lt;br /&gt;Is "no strings attached".&lt;br /&gt;But they used to boast that every cloud,&lt;br /&gt;Has a silver lining, which you must browse;&lt;br /&gt;And so I follow the common trend,&lt;br /&gt;And see the lining though it might be hidden;&lt;br /&gt;I can see now that I'll always be,&lt;br /&gt;A flower that got detached,&lt;br /&gt;But still clings to the tree;&lt;br /&gt;Just like all others who had gone one day,&lt;br /&gt;And bloomed into new plants facing the day;&lt;br /&gt;For now it's my time, my turn's ahead,&lt;br /&gt;And all I can say,&lt;br /&gt;Is "no strings attached".&lt;br /&gt;I'll be gone but others would come,&lt;br /&gt;And then there'll be yet more,&lt;br /&gt;To get the work done;&lt;br /&gt;But for those who still,&lt;br /&gt;Have a long way to go through;&lt;br /&gt;Before they face the moment,&lt;br /&gt;That we must all find true;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to say drain it all out,&lt;br /&gt;Cause it won't come back,&lt;br /&gt;No matter how much you shout;&lt;br /&gt;When the time has gone you would realize,&lt;br /&gt;But it would then be too late to make it right;&lt;br /&gt;But why must I cry, why must I whine,&lt;br /&gt;Cause it's not the moment yet, I still have time;&lt;br /&gt;I know it would be difficult to say goodbye,&lt;br /&gt;But it needs to be done; I shouldn't get my hopes high;&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless, I must be prepared,&lt;br /&gt;The moment would sooner or later come;&lt;br /&gt;But now I know that I'll be glad,&lt;br /&gt;In saying it out loud;"No strings attached".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-2920891326831688883?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/2920891326831688883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=2920891326831688883' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/2920891326831688883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/2920891326831688883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2006/11/no-strings-attached.html' title='No Strings Attached'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-8490580681370363310</id><published>2006-12-01T01:04:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-12-04T19:44:36.072+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poems'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inspirational'/><title type='text'>My Light</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2638/44860657388881/1600/904200/479040.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2638/44860657388881/320/697075/479040.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Ok, now this is one of my poems..wrote it for all those people who in some way or the other have contributed in making me meet myself, in guiding me..and doing loads of other stuff for me!!) &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sunburnt wall was always lit,&lt;br /&gt;With a light that only meant heat;&lt;br /&gt;But the gardener came and bloomed it through,&lt;br /&gt;Into a beautiful treat.&lt;br /&gt;For the void has now been filled with flowers,&lt;br /&gt;The light is heat no more;&lt;br /&gt;It has now become the bright sunshine,&lt;br /&gt;With elations the heart never pours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The water was there that used to flow,&lt;br /&gt;The streams that washed the earth;&lt;br /&gt;The banks were there and so was the mud,&lt;br /&gt;That gave life a birth.&lt;br /&gt;But the waterman came and made it clear,&lt;br /&gt;The sound is not just gush;&lt;br /&gt;It is the sweet music of water,&lt;br /&gt;And the plants a beauty in lush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fields were there all covered in grass,&lt;br /&gt;The green was just a shade;&lt;br /&gt;But the farmer came and ripened it through,&lt;br /&gt;The crops of yellow and jade.&lt;br /&gt;The grass is just a plant no more,&lt;br /&gt;It now symbolizes life;&lt;br /&gt;The zeal, the vigour to carry on,&lt;br /&gt;Even in times of strife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The skies were blue, the roses red,&lt;br /&gt;The rocks, the fire, the ice;&lt;br /&gt;But the colours are more than what they look,&lt;br /&gt;Each tinge specific and right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The breeze was there that flew unaware,&lt;br /&gt;But it just felt cold and dry;&lt;br /&gt;The toddler came and filled it through,&lt;br /&gt;With the fragrance of booming skies.&lt;br /&gt;The breeze is cold and frozen no more,&lt;br /&gt;The dryness no more thirsts;&lt;br /&gt;For now it has an unseen warmth,&lt;br /&gt;And a source to quench the earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The birds sang and butterflies flew,&lt;br /&gt;Babies always took their first step;&lt;br /&gt;But none alas explained the lad,&lt;br /&gt;The secrets untold, unread.&lt;br /&gt;Then came the teacher and opened his eyes,&lt;br /&gt;To the world that lies beyond;&lt;br /&gt;He soon found out, all veils were torn,&lt;br /&gt;That they whisper the sounds of god.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People had come and people went by,&lt;br /&gt;But none could really affect;&lt;br /&gt;None had the strength and nor the will,&lt;br /&gt;To impress the heart's reflect.&lt;br /&gt;And then came the alchemist,&lt;br /&gt;To turn the tide of time;&lt;br /&gt;He walked in through and took me too,&lt;br /&gt;And made me see what's mine.&lt;br /&gt;The gardener, the waterman, the farmer it seems,&lt;br /&gt;The toddler, the teacher, the guide;&lt;br /&gt;I thank the source, whatever the course,&lt;br /&gt;For making me feel my might.&lt;br /&gt;For now I have met who lies within,&lt;br /&gt;The one I call myself;&lt;br /&gt;All thanks to you, the source it's true,&lt;br /&gt;I can say there are no regrets.&lt;br /&gt;You open my path, removed the fog,&lt;br /&gt;To make the sun shine bright;&lt;br /&gt;I thank the source, whatever the course,&lt;br /&gt;My guide, my friend, my light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-8490580681370363310?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/8490580681370363310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=8490580681370363310' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/8490580681370363310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/8490580681370363310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2006/11/my-light.html' title='My Light'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367498505329715790.post-972524500112201259</id><published>2006-12-01T00:58:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-12-04T19:44:21.027+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scribbled'/><title type='text'>Bloggin</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2638/44860657388881/1600/384605/writer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2638/44860657388881/320/929107/writer.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Well, this is going to be my first ever official write-up..preety cool huh?...the title is "bloggin" or "blog in"...from where did i come up with it..well, its like this- i never ever thought that i would have a blog...but off late i met so many people who had blogs...so i went to some of those blogs and thought they were pretty cool...so then i thought...should try my hand at it too...i mean how bad can it be...worst case scenario- people wont come to read it right?..but is it really that bad..i think not...im writing coz i like to write or at least at times i do!!..so all of you out there who want to read what "loquacious shanks" has to say, you are most welcome to come and have a look..for those who don't..well, there are loads of other blogs, im sure u'll like someone's!!..so here's to a fancy culture of having blogs..cheers!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/367498505329715790-972524500112201259?l=loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/feeds/972524500112201259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=367498505329715790&amp;postID=972524500112201259' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/972524500112201259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/367498505329715790/posts/default/972524500112201259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loquaciousshanks.blogspot.com/2006/11/bloggin.html' title='Bloggin'/><author><name>Adhirath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00483866033273411416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wTt79j6FDuo/SGIWEDfVgYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/KY7D8ibq40s/S220/dream2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
