tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-251131472024-03-08T08:23:11.980-08:00Pro Tempore...My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.comBlogger30125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-23117011863977028912009-11-29T05:03:00.000-08:002009-11-29T06:52:16.721-08:00Beyond The Inevitable…<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: #d9ead3;">As the shift of light snuffed out when the deep sea has enshrouded the golden orb, a gentle breeze made way for a comforting euphony played by the wind upon the leaves. The dim intensity of the spectral glitter from the stars blended perfectly with the haziness that suffused through the smoothness of the mist.</span><span style="color: #d9ead3;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span> <span style="color: #d9ead3;"> </span><span style="color: #d9ead3;"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: #d9ead3;">And at this instant of the nightfall, yet again, they uprose from the woods only to be lost into each other. They knew that the first light of dawn would separate them but eternal was the warmth of what they felt for each other, every passing day.</span><span style="color: #d9ead3;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span> <span style="color: #d9ead3;"> </span><span style="color: #d9ead3;"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: #d9ead3;">In his comforting arms she found solace. His breath still smelled of camphor. But then, her beauty was no less of an aesthetic illusion. The eyes were akin to well-rounded ambers contoured with kohl. His flawless dusky texture perfectly complemented the radiance of her manifestations, when she belonged to him.</span><span style="color: #d9ead3;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #d9ead3;"><br />
</span> <span style="color: #d9ead3;"> </span><span style="color: #d9ead3;"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: #d9ead3;">As the time flapped its wings, their feeling of first-love would reprise and before they could absorb themselves in it to the core, it was time. The time for them to bear the brunt of that ill-fated moment when the pangs of parting would set off to be spilled from their eyes. </span><span style="color: #d9ead3;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #d9ead3;"><br />
</span> <span style="color: #d9ead3;"> </span><span style="color: #d9ead3;"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: #d9ead3;">They had to surrender to the divine providence and as he felt helpless, she would weep inconsolably at the agony of separation, not knowing that the cycle of time would once again bring them back to the edge when the deep sea would grow restless to vitalize the winds and the stars would glisten as the strange strokes of nature would prepare themselves to re-animate its two most strange creations.</span><span style="color: #d9ead3;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #d9ead3;"><br />
</span> <span style="color: #d9ead3;"> </span><span style="color: #d9ead3;"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: #d9ead3;">Their love derived its strength from the sweet sorrow of separation.</span><span style="color: #d9ead3;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #d9ead3;"><br />
</span> <span style="color: #d9ead3;"> </span><span style="color: #d9ead3;"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: #d9ead3;">And it was… indescribable.</span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-59240244802417431242009-09-19T06:40:00.000-07:002009-09-19T06:42:49.802-07:00Leadership...<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">Its dormant powers have potential to shake the foundation of years of persecution, it can toss empires to earth, it can raise masses in defiance of tyranny and against countless oppression, it can re-kindle hope and motivate fellowmen to stand for a common cause and its struggle stories keep inspiring generations for endless times. </span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">Such is the might of ‘Leadership’.</span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><br />
</span> <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">Leadership is a two-way transformative and intrinsically ethical relationship between the leader and the followers. It provides a path for people to tread collectively and do greater good by changing the course of action of the society. </span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><br />
</span> <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">Leaders are visionaries. They have a vivid imagination and a foresight and they trust in what they seek to achieve. Their faith in success is far greater than the fear of failure. They do not wait for the chance rather they take up the cudgels to create the chance. They rise above the crowd of commons on account of their unwavering spirit in their beliefs and their ability to influence masses by articulating the cause and then relentlessly pursuing it to completion.</span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><br />
</span> <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">A lot of time, leaders ar</span></span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">e counter-intuitive to most conventional concepts of both ambition and the means of achieving success. For this reason, they </span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">are occasionally faced with failures but then they choose not to lose and rather face their demon and triumph over it.</span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><br />
</span> <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">Leaders challenge the status-quo. Some lead mass struggle for racial equality while some pioneer the concept of ‘satyagraha’, some stand against fascism and restore the superiority of democracy while some set up dictatorship and pose the greatest threat to democracy.</span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> </span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><br />
</span> <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">Leaders like Martin Luther King, Gandhi, Churchill and Hitler have left indelible mark on the fate of many. Such influential leadership is not too hard to spot. It is quite evident on the field when Mahendra singh dhoni shows the right mix of aggression, innovation and ability to take calculated risks or in boardroom, when Mr. Ratan Tata stands by his conviction of revolutionizing the concept of cars for middle class. </span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><br />
</span> <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">Leaders are born is an obsolete concept. The growth in the number of successful entrepreneurs, sportspersons, media icons, stands testimony to the fact that leadership can certainly be evolved-if not inherited.</span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span> <br />
</div><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">Now, when the world has woken up to India’s potential, it is time for more Indians to come forward and carve that niche in which the phrase ‘third world country’ doesn’t seem to fit. It’s time now for Indian leaders to stand up to the adjectives that the world has been showering upon us and lead the masses to new heights of achievements.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: 15px;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: 15px;"><span style="color: orange;">PS:</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: 15px;"><span style="color: cyan;">Agar Dekhna hai Hamari Udaan Ko</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: 15px;"><span style="color: cyan;">Toh Jara Aur Ooncha kar do Aasmaan Ko...!!!</span></span></span>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-38285701498626283262009-09-08T06:46:00.000-07:002009-09-08T11:04:23.178-07:00The Unceasing Quest…<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;">The movie ‘15</span><sup><span style="font-size: small;">th</span></sup><span style="font-size: small;"> Park Avenue’ concludes with a quote that lingers long after the film ends. </span><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #e06666;">“She is looking for something she can never find…aren’t we all …??”</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Minor schizophrenic, as human beings are, we are plagued with the delusions of our fancied designs...So perfect and real, yet unattainable.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;">And even if they are, were they what we embarked upon for ?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
The envisioned goal and the existent attainment of it seldom coalesce.And in short-run when it does…The next moment, the dartboard appears to flee faster than the approaching dart…thereby gravitating the dart downwards…missing, thus, the Bull’s Eye.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
In fact, it’s a point of view which is never still.<br />
The target shifts itself as if it’s a stochastic function of the level of its attainment.<br />
Well, the quest never ends... and it never will..but the search does lead us somewhere...and that... is decided by the effort you put in and how good you make of the ubiquitous opportunities.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
Life is, after all, a game of some smart sophisticated moves.</div>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-30247840025244457592009-07-11T12:58:00.000-07:002010-01-19T10:42:42.746-08:00Spine Shuddering Scare...<div class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="color: #ff99ff;">It was an unusual Friday night.</span></i><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="color: #ff99ff;">Time: 2:30 am</span></i><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="color: #ff99ff;">I was watching the movie -- ‘The Exorcist’.</span></i><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As the movie concluded creepily, I realized that a deathly silence permeated the room. I knew it would dawn in sometime but it was not this time… Two more hours of haunting remained.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">With fear flowing through my veins accompanied by a subtle paranoia, I thought I spotted the silhouettes that floated round the corners of the room. <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The curtains caused some strange cacophony of noises. The creaks created by the flaps of that dampened fan which tried to grasp the air that barely passed through, signaled the spookiness that intensified the underlying terror in my heart. The sensation of specter was further strengthened as this air moved through the corner of my ears as if whispering or so of a panic that planned to linger for a longer period. Eerie sounds and ghostly voices had a bearing to the stony calmness of the night, indicating that something sinister lurked in the shadows waiting to make a move. <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The shadowy presence harped in the dark corner and it felt as if I could effortlessly peep into those drained eyes that had seen time changing faces. <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Evil sometimes lies dormant at the cross-roads between life and death... where the mortal and the eternal collide. Sometimes death is temporal but not terminal. Many a time, restless spirits roam in an attempt to fulfill their strange designs.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Apparently, you can’t fight what you can’t see. But then, the bigger question is: <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="color: #999900;">Can death be seen amidst the livings?</span></i><br />
</div>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-80264151755055564442009-07-01T23:36:00.000-07:002009-07-02T00:59:44.848-07:00Remembrances of Today as they would be in Tomorrow...<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman';"><div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC66CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Nostalgia has gripped me again, embracing me to those days when springs were not just the haphazard interferences of noises made by the splattering deluge... Rather it was the warmth of the sunshine that lightened up the day.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC66CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC66CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">As time turns pages, the voices of people I met, walked and then parted with, still echoes distinctly when I am all by myself.</span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC66CC;"></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC66CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC66CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">God, I miss those days when it felt great to be in love, all the time, and she was not gone.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC66CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; "></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC66CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC9933;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Her hands and her hair, her face and her eyes…</span></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC9933;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">I am still living in the past, seeking her trace in my life…!!!</span></span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC66CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC66CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; "></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Cambria;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC66CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">PS: </span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC66CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC66CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">The post is in no way whatsoever related to me. </span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC66CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Only the narration is mine.</span></span></span></span></p></span></div></span>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-19179309026060622842009-06-11T23:10:00.000-07:002009-06-11T23:19:24.730-07:00Macrocosmic Mystification…It’s only sometimes... but for those rare moments… when I set out to seek rational interpretation for the existence of irrational things, that I ask myself questions on the line of --<br /><br />Why is fire fated to destroy the cause of its creation Or perhaps it’s the thermal affinity for an eternal affiliation between the creator and the creation. <br />Why are the shores of a river, not meant to meet, lest the river runs dry, in which case they aren’t shore any more. Probably because they are meant to bear the pain of separation. To look at each other from far and then sigh. To have mutuality but not association. <br /><br />Some things, even if they aren’t seemingly illogical, have been designed to be visceral. <br /><br />After all, ambiguity allures.<br />Why otherwise could you catch the mist but not the cloud?<br /><br />Quote: <br />"Life is not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be lived." <br />- M. Scott PeckMy spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-72260089557948425622009-05-07T02:22:00.000-07:002010-11-17T22:56:31.451-08:00Ashes of the phoenix---AMR Group VI<span style="color: silver;">Finally posting it...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: silver;">Today is March 26, 2009 and this day brings us to the conclusion of the flight of affairs by the name of ‘<span style="font-family: arial;">AMR- Group 6’</span>.<br />
Among all the uncertainties of the situational twists, we gathered at the confluence of the Girls hostel and the cafeteria, SIIB, to rejoice once again through the happenings of our varied experiences. Now it becomes equally important for me to mention names of those people who have given me some of the most beautiful memories of my SIIB life. Not following any order, they are Neha, Sananda, Punam, Samiksha, Rakesh, Prashant, Sanjay, Ashraf and Arindam. The meet concluded when everyone expressed their thoughts.<br />
<br />
Posting them here for posterity.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #33cc00;">Sananda</span>: It was a heavy (...??) subject. She was confused, she said, but had a nice time and intends to do more masti in days to come.<br />
<span style="color: #33cc00;">Neha</span>: She spoke about the Tamanna party when thumps-up inebriated us to the extent of losing our sense of consciousness. This party was, undoubtedly, one of our best. And also talked about some ill-omen which took our parties away from us.<br />
<span style="color: #33cc00;">Punam</span>: She spoke about our first AMR convene when we were deciding partners for our ‘3-day-AMR-Ends’ dare.</span><br />
<span style="color: silver;"><span style="color: #33cc00;">Samiksha</span>: She spoke about the presentations - when only the presenter was caught amidst the showering furies of Mr. Godbole. It was fun to bear that brunt. Also, she re-assured us that she is mentally fit after that “ride of the lifetime”.<br />
<span style="color: #33cc00;">Rakesh</span>: He also talked about the parties and “increased fairness of happy people” (which, you know was referred to whom…and we made sure that the message was conveyed.) Was about to speak about his crush but was saved from doing so.<br />
<span style="color: #33cc00;">Prashant</span>: He talked about the last minute presentations and the fun at parties. His impending marriage and the talks of it. Shook hands and wished luck to every one of us.<br />
<span style="color: #33cc00;">Sanjay</span>: He was as always was the fizz element. Added some expert comments and made the party more humorous.<br />
<span style="color: #33cc00;">Ashraf</span>: He said, “It was good”.<br />
<span style="color: #33cc00;">Arindam</span>: He spoke about the camaraderie all of shared. He said he enjoyed everything other than studies and also promised to take us to his house sometime.<br />
Punam also promised the same.<br />
<span style="color: #33cc00;">Abhishek</span> (that`s me) : I talked about the parties we had at the start and then the confidence with which we faced Mr. Godbole and then the places which we looked for hiding when he fired us after looking at our presentation. And then I spoke indistinctly, “Bohat si yaadein judi hain AMR ke saath”.<br />
<br />
It all started from the day in June when we first met after 'The Singhad triumph'.<br />
<br />
And here we stand today, after completing successfully, the trail of events which was made all the more fascinating by <span style="color: #33cc00;">Mr. S.V.Godbole</span> and his comments on our efforts and the challenging situations in which he kept putting us, untiringly.<br />
<br />
For some it was so good that AMR is over, but for me...I just wish AMR would have never ended.</span>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-88764296413844342372009-03-22T04:49:00.000-07:002009-03-22T04:55:26.251-07:00Just Another Compliment...Trying to freeze the moment ...<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#ffcccc;">Well, </span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#ffcccc;">This took me a while to think but i wasn`t able to think of a better compliment for you because you yourself is a "compliment" ... and black... suits you best :-)</span></em>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-85228585867948716632008-10-13T11:49:00.000-07:002008-10-13T13:31:00.544-07:00Leading the way :<span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ccccff;">Their lingua depicted a finicky touch of enhanced struggle story, tuned to success.<br />Breaking into the nutshell of the top league of their relevant domains isn’t anymore an unrealized venture.<br /></span><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ccccff;">Seamless journey of an overtly jubilant Ganges to a somber branching – starts from possibly an urge to flow rather than taking a stern stand as a rock-solid Glacier somewhere atop the Himalayan Range.<br /></span><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ccccff;">Gradual realization of the devastation capacity of a dormant volcano, after eruption isn’t smart. It’s common. Uncommon is understanding the potential of performance prior to the volcanic-eruption process.<br />People who rise above the fog of “Crowd of Commons” are those who pre-empt the chance-event and force a favorable, unforeseen but not intangible proceedings.<br />Do not Crib at the ‘wrongs’ of the present, but Contribute to the conceivable ‘rights’.<br />Follow the rules, wait for your turn, and persuade people to follow the pre-formed codes.<br /><br />Tender to needs, Cater to others. Remain patient, Don’t retaliate. Create humor and most of all -- Be Nice.<br /><br />After all,<br />Kal Ho Na Ho…!!!</span>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-45057770724915024582008-03-09T07:18:00.000-07:002008-03-09T07:23:36.426-07:00Destiny Calling...<span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffff00;">This is the time - i can see the first few rays of a new dawn in my dreary and inactive routine.After a long 2 years and 9 months of hibernation, there is a rattle of activities happening in my life.<br />The MBA(Management) entrance results are out and my dream seems to be materializing in the form of SIIB(Symbiosis Institute of international Business).Though i had a couple of other options but the Symbiosis of a rigourous education with the evolution of a socially responsive manager is an enticing idea.<br />As a part of curriculum there,I would be learning a new foreign language(one among german,spanish,french or mandarin).The rest of the schedule is similar to that of a decent Management college.The intricacies would be realized as and when the admission procedure happens.<br />As of now,a good and healthy break of 2 months, which i consider as the silence before the storm creates quite a few furore in some lives.Symbi..i am coming...</span>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-5910733010660688342008-03-08T14:08:00.000-08:002008-10-13T13:40:51.657-07:00Blast from the Past...<span style="font-family:georgia;color:#33ff33;">The other day, i was walking my way towards Office.It was a bright sunny morning.<br />Not so pleasant as it sounds, rather it was scorching hot - All thanks to the global warming.Drops of sweat poured off my brows, my patch of beard and mustache, which had appeared as i procrastinated shaving for weekends, by which i meant coming Saturday..No..Sunday..No..No..Monday morning.My Thin, gauzy T-shirt and heavy jeans were offering little help.The wretched laptop too seemed to demand backbreaking efforts. And amidst all the warmth and discomfort i strode on steadily.<br />Half-way through, i saw a middle-age man riding his daughter,i suppose she would have been in 9th or 10th grade, on a scooter.From the appearance, they looked to be from a typical middle-class Indian family.The man was busy driving on the overcrowded road, cluttered with pavement vendors, small kirana shops and kiosks which had apparently shifted closer to the road.The girl had a book in her hand which she was reading on the moving vehicle.It seemed like a last minute preparations for any class-test or examination.<br />And the flash...I went back 8 years, My Mummy, preparing the breakfast and making sure we eat them before leaving for the examination and then My Papa driving me and my brother to our school, myself holding my notes and reading them vigorously,if not vociferously, all the way upto the school.I always had this gut feeling that last minute studies always help.Though, i would prepare the entire subject thoroughly but still, i would be evidently holding my notes and reading them, just incase i would have skipped something, till the last minute-when the bell rang indicating commencement of the examination procedures and the invigilator would start to distribute the answer sheets.<br />Those were the days...a pleasant breeze of air composed my face and an uncanny smile appeared.<br />And lo..the office gates were infront.<br />The way passed by as the days..I miss those days...I hope everyone else does it too !!</span>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-43204300133783745592007-09-21T05:24:00.000-07:002007-09-21T06:06:11.219-07:00Comprehending The Nuances.<span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);">What entices more to a contemplating mind - an idyllic Past, a hazy Present or an unclear & indistinct Future.<br /><br />Lets Probe...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"><span style="font-style: italic;">Past</span> is so perfect because someone (and i don`t know who) says,'the mind retains only good memories' and the regrets are transmuted to retain only the residual contentment of the incidence.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);">Thereby making the Past so perfect, atleast in the mind.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"><span style="font-style: italic;">Present </span>is diaphanous because you can percieve only the most contiguous events and proceed to pursue them.You circumspect one and all potential scenarios and try to optimise your judgement for a possible elimination of hurt or neglect from those concerned, albeit, treading towards the objective.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);">An adventurous excursion in itself. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"><span style="font-style: italic;">Future </span>is the farther side of life.Its decides what we seek and yearn for, all through the Past and even the Present.The actions we take now are the testimonials to the story of our lives.For me, future holds the key to the triumphs of this day and age which inturn gets reflected in the chronicles of the departed. </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);">A rationale to die for.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);">In the end, the journey is long and normally we need to trust, </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);">the instincts</span>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-87063129393806489182007-09-07T04:49:00.000-07:002007-09-07T05:39:34.451-07:00Five Classic AffairsThis is an assorted assemblage of five extremely humorous incidents which i thought would tickle the funny bone in us.<br />(where`s that bone by the way ?)<br />Read the disclaimer before reading the affairs.<br /><br />Disclaimer : Who Cares ... go on reading<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 204, 204);">Uno</span> : The 1st Affair<br /><br />A married man was having an affair with his secretary.<br /><br />One day they went to her place and made love all afternoon. Exhausted, they<br />fell asleep and woke up at 8 PM.<br /><br />The man hurriedly dressed and told his lover to take his shoes outside and<br />rub them in the grass and dirt.He put on his shoes and drove home.<br /><br />"Where have you been?" his wife demanded.<br /><br />"I can't lie to you," he replied, "I'm having an affair with my secretary. We had sex all afternoon."<br /><br />"You lying bastard!<br /><br />You've been playing golf!"<br />__________<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 255, 255);">Dos </span>: The 2nd Affair<br /><br />A mortician was working late one night.<br /><br />He examined the body of Mr. Schwartz, about to be cremated, and made a startling discovery. Schwartz had the largest private part he had ever seen!!<br /><br />"I'm sorry Mr. Schwartz," the mortician commented, "I can't allow you to be cremated with such an impressive private part. It must be saved for posterity."<br /><br />So, he removed it, stuffed it into his briefcase, and took it home.<br /><br />"I have to show you something you won't believe," he said to his wife, opening his briefcase.<br /><br />"My God!" the wife exclaimed, "Schwartz is dead?!?!"<br />____________<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 255, 255);">Tres </span>: The 3rd Affair<br /><br />A woman was in bed with her lover when she heard her husband opening the front door.<br /><br />"Smith, Hurry" she said, "stand in the corner." She rubbed baby oil all over him, then dusted him with talcum powder.<br /><br />"Don't move until I tell you," she said. "Pretend you're a statue."<br /><br />"What's this?" the husband inquired as he entered the room.<br /><br />"Oh it's a statue." she replied. "The Smith's bought one and I liked it so much I got one for us, too."<br /><br />No more was said, not even when they went to bed.<br /><br />Around 2 AM the husband got up, went to the kitchen and returned with a sandwich and a beer.<br /><br />"Here," he said to the statue, "have this. I stood like that for two days at the Smith's and nobody offered me a damned thing."<br />___________<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 255, 255);">Cuatro</span> : The 4th Affair<br /><br />A man walked into a cafe, went to the bar and ordered a beer.<br /><br />"Certainly, Sir, that'll be Rs 100."<br /><br />"Rs 100 ?" the man thought.<br /><br />He glanced at the menu and asked, "How much for a nice juicy steak and a bottle of wine?"<br /><br />"Rs 20," the barman replied.<br /><br />"Rs 20 ?" exclaimed the man. "Where's the guy who owns this place?"<br /><br />The bartender replied, "Upstairs, with my wife."<br /><br />The man asked, "What's he doing upstairs with your wife?"<br /><br />The bartender replied,<br /><br />"The same thing I'm doing to his business down here."<br />______________<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255); font-style: italic;">Cinco </span>: The 5th Affair <span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255); font-style: italic;"></span><br /><br />Jake was dying. His wife sat at the bedside.<br /><br />He looked up and said weakly, "I have something I must confess."<br /><br />"There's no need to," his wife replied.<br /><br />"No," he insisted, "I want to die in peace. I slept with your sister, your best friend, her best friend, and your mother!"<br /><br />"I know, I know," she replied. "Now just rest and let the poison work."<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 204, 255);">l'extrémité</span>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-35534091566200582542007-07-30T05:30:00.000-07:002007-07-30T05:58:05.908-07:00Eternal drops of dew...Watching a nice movie at home on a sunday evening, all alone, far from the daily commotion is a layman desire which i always nurtured but never realised, only till last weekend.<br />With the silence inside the house, the thunderstorm outdoors blended perfectly to produce the ambiance which made "<span style="font-style: italic;">Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind</span>" - a nice experience for me.<br />The Movie is based on a visionary concept of memory mapping and subsequently erasing the memory core.<br /><br />A memory map is build based on the experience of the patient and thence starts the procedure to erase the emotional core that each memory builds on and on.Reverse timeline is followed meaning most recent to the oldest memory, thus finally effacing the entire block. The person forgets even subtle interactions.<br /><br />The movie traces the tumultuous relationship of a couple both opting for the surgery. They meet again and inevitably fall in love, only to discover the vituperations of their long dissolved marriage. Its the Impulsive girl Vs Shy boy.<br />But the real twist shreds your senses.<br />The affair of the doctor and the receptionist.<br />Too good.<br /><br />Both Jim carrey and kate winslet have delivered knockout performances.<br /><br /><br />The movie is based on the quote from Alexander Pope:<br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> The world forgetting, by the world forgot.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd</span>"<br /><br />Stub :<br /> <span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">You can erase someone from your mind. </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"> Getting them out of your heart is another story.</span><br /><br />And somewhere there, the drizzle, soothed my nerves again...My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-43523424412456798122007-06-11T05:39:00.000-07:002009-08-02T02:06:33.297-07:00In the Era of the Great Roger Federer, lived a man called Rafael Nadal…<p class="MsoNormal" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192); FONT-STYLE: italic; TEXT-ALIGN: leftfont-family:trebuchet ms;">And the ever-looming <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Nadal</span> nemesis fell again on the indomitable <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Federer</span>. It was a King Vs King match, one of Grass with no defeat in past four years and a 48 match run including 4 <st1:place>Wimbledon</st1:place> titles and the other with 72 straight clay court wins.</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192); FONT-STYLE: italic; TEXT-ALIGN: justifyfont-family:trebuchet ms;"><o:p></o:p></p><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192); FONT-STYLE: italic; TEXT-ALIGN: justifyfont-family:trebuchet ms;" ><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Federer</span> has 10 grand slam titles but he still needs the coveted French Open to complete a career Grand Slam of all four championships, which basically includes (Wimbledon, US open, Australian open and French open).And if it <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">weren</span>’t for Rafa, FedEx would have been savoring the pride of being the undefeated defender of the crowns.</p><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192); FONT-STYLE: italic; TEXT-ALIGN: justify" face="trebuchet ms"><o:p></o:p></p><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></div><p class="MsoNormal" face="trebuchet ms" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192); FONT-STYLE: italic; TEXT-ALIGN: justify">Statistically, FedEx is 4-7 against Rafa and 199-7 against anybody else.</p><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192); FONT-STYLE: italic; FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms; TEXT-ALIGN: justify">So beyond doubt, world number 2 is boisterously holding the title and I am thinking, without taking the credit any minuscule away from the great Fed, that if it <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">weren</span>’t for a King <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Federer</span>, Rafa definitely would be the Prince of the Court. But the latter is 4-6 years younger than almost all his opponents and is on a quick road of experience which never dumps the seeker.</p><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192); FONT-STYLE: italic; FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms; TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><o:p></o:p></p><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192); FONT-STYLE: italic; FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms; TEXT-ALIGN: justify">Way to Go Rafa…</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192); FONT-STYLE: italic; FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms; TEXT-ALIGN: justify">Link : <a href="http://http//www.hindu.com/2007/06/11/stories/2007061105171900.htm">Federer Vs Nadal</a><br /></p>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-42054344123467469632007-06-06T02:13:00.000-07:002009-05-06T23:32:19.669-07:00Anything but This...<p class="MsoNormal" style="FONT-FAMILY: georgia">Comprehending the stride, at which my life is Propelling the Kid in me to a clumsy grown up, is getting tricky for me.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="FONT-FAMILY: georgia">Weekdays are as hectic an agenda as the (2x24) hours which my company thinks each employee should get out of (7x24 hours) per week to prepare himself for next Week.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="FONT-FAMILY: georgia">Sundays are passing by as the roadside trees…Numerous for me to count but fixing me more firmly and deeply into the ground stifling me even for a breath… A calm, serene and stress-free breath.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="FONT-FAMILY: georgia"><?xml:namespace prefix = o /><o:p></o:p><br />I mean when you think about the lingering questions like--<br />When was the last time you felt that your life fits you?<br />Would you recognize the fit when it repeats?<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="FONT-FAMILY: georgia">Most of us live such intense and harried lives that we feel wants like to schedule even brushing of our teeth by electronic organizers (...if possible). Despite the frenzied pace of the world, personal needs ain`t supposed to be buried on basis of others' expectations.<br />What is required, however, is a change of perspective. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="FONT-FAMILY: georgia">Afterwards it’s for you to discover.<br />And lastly a very beautiful piece of couplets I came across some day’s back that fits in here perfectly...</p><p class="MsoNormal">"""<br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,204,255); FONT-STYLE: italic">We passed their graves:</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,204,255); FONT-STYLE: italic">The dead men there,</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,204,255); FONT-STYLE: italic">Winners or losers,</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,204,255); FONT-STYLE: italic">Did not care.</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,204,255); FONT-STYLE: italic">In the dark</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,204,255); FONT-STYLE: italic">They could not see</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,204,255); FONT-STYLE: italic">Who had gained</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,204,255); FONT-STYLE: italic">The victory.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">"""</p><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Did we ever dreamt of the such a status-Quo...</span><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="COLOR: rgb(204,204,255); FONT-STYLE: italic">“I’m just a dreamer. I dream my life away. I’m just a dreamer who dreams of better days.”</p><p class="MsoNormal">Courtesy: Ozzy “Dreamer”</p>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-8845369580850694502007-06-01T22:41:00.000-07:002007-06-01T22:46:25.837-07:00A Taste Of My Own Blood<p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"><font size="3">At a <span style="font-style: italic;">tender </span>age of 24, I got first taste of my own blood. No, it has nothing related to acquiring any sort of vampiric aura but it was rather related to realm of my benign but not so harmless dental built up. Human anatomy has this strange way of finding or rather discovering the patch ups which individuals often neglect owing to life on fast track.<o:p></o:p></font></p><p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"><font size="3"><o:p></o:p>And with our tooth, hectic morning schedule and rushing to bed in evening with ever burgeoning bacteria because of improper brush leads to “Remove that Molar ASAP”, as it happened to me.</font></p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"><font size="3"><o:p></o:p>People say its wisdom tooth and the whole world is now bent on taking it away from me..???<br />and obviously they triumphed or else do you think I would be sitting here writing this piece of crap on a Saturday, which I think only I read and that too occasionally.<span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span></font></p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"><font size="3">So it all starts with the syringe that took the sensations from my right periodontal gears.<br />and a hammer which when aimed at my molar lead to blood whirls in my mouth in no time. </font></p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"><font size="3"><br /></font></p><p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"><font size="3">That was what I was thinking when I wrote the headings…crappy brains.</font></p>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-73833890812743654882007-03-14T01:51:00.000-07:002007-03-14T01:59:45.100-07:00You are an Actor -- My Friend.<div align="justify"><span style="color:#9999ff;">The fakeness of the real world is apparently nothing compared to the mortal innoculation of 'The fake' dose.Matter over mind is a thing of the past but now what matters is the abrupt commercialization of the credibility to the extent of abhorence,Once you get to the abyss of the amount of planning which people put in to achieve these ends.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#9999ff;">What they don`t realize is that there ain`t no King-Kong.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#9999ff;">Time takes care of it all.<br />You try being fair but what counts in the play is winning, for most, rather than the ethics that realise an otherwise innocuous situations.<br />Friend has got a deeper meaning.Under umpteen covers is the bare spirit which everyone seeks but usually discover disappointment when they get baffled at the hyper-labyrinth of the manipulated cover itself.The mirage, as they say, is nothing but the comfort zone which loosens the grip once you take a closer 'exquisite' look which means shrinking confidence,thereby making ways for egoes and doubting-thomases.<br /></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#9999ff;">They say, you are a good actor, don`t they realise ... ever..<br /></span></div><div align="justify"><em><span style="color:#ff99ff;">"All the world's a stage,</span></em></div><div align="justify"><em><span style="color:#ff99ff;">And all the men and women merely players.</span></em></div><div align="justify"><em><span style="color:#ff99ff;">They have their exits and their entrances,</span></em></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#9999ff;"><em><span style="color:#ff99ff;">And one man in his time plays many parts."</span></em><br /></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#9999ff;">--From Shakespeare`s As You Like It (II, vii, 139-143)</span></div>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-35696608448693368112006-12-29T06:41:00.000-08:002007-09-22T01:24:11.192-07:00New Year Fu..nnn<span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Wow.<br />Its a New Year.<br />A time for new promises, new resolutions, new identifications and new ablutions...<br />Why not, afterall its a New Year.<br />Its time again for us to celebrate...Heavy metal, Smoke laden views,brain knocking music and spruced up in small skirt some cute chicks who barely know why skirts were invented for...but thats fine ... its a new year...<br />Lets Go Loud..<br />29th December -- What am i doing here ..its 8:30 in the evening and the computer screen at my office still ridicules me the way it did the entire day and i wish i had punched it way back but barring the cost factor i don`t think if there is anything that prevents me from doing so.<br />Maybe 2 years down the line i would shatter such a screen and live my dream...<br />but thats a callow fantasy which would definitely fade.<br />People leaving for places, friends for pub and i..i just want to pee..<br />But atleast i have an urge to blog..you clumsy spectator, move your ar*se and go back to code..<br /><br />So indians have a great time ahead...lets try to get a reason to celebrate another year of our dreams....<br />Happy New Year.</span></span>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-1163764927957080052006-11-17T04:01:00.000-08:002006-12-29T06:40:59.013-08:00lifes just a wishing well...<span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff99ff;">One coin left inside my pocket,<br />I came upon a wishing well.<br />Hesitantly I tossed it in,<br />Now only time will tell.<br /><br /><br />Whether my wish will be granted,<br />Or, I shall be denied.<br />Peace of mind or empty Pockets,<br />Atleast I know I tried.<br /><br /><br />Once I had so many coins,<br />All were wasted in the past.<br />Broken dreams and empty promises,<br />Now i`m down to my last.<br /><br /><br />Life is but a coin toss,<br />Whether or not your dreams come true.<br />With my eyes closed I heard the splash,<br />Then wished that I had you...</span>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-1160372688571245862006-10-08T22:31:00.000-07:002006-10-08T22:49:12.610-07:00Strange...isn`t itmood : lessalgos<br /><br />Life isn`t always take it in your face type...its strange..sometimes stranger.<br />Its full of paradoxes and in the words of Deborah Mckinlay the excerpts below symbolises what we implicitly decipher through occurences.Its worth giving a thought...<br /><br />At some point of time,when people are quite small and much more interested in other things,somebody big takes it into their head to say something like this to them :<br /><em></em><span style="color:#ffcc99;"><em> "</em> Boys are different from Girls."<br /></span><br />If the small person is a Boy, the big person says a lot of other bumpfs and then they say something like :<br /><span style="color:#ffcc99;"> " You mustn`t hurt Girls."</span><br /><br />If the small person is a Girl, the big person says lots and lots of other bumpfs and then they say something like :<br /><span style="color:#ffcc99;"> " You mustn`t Trust Boys."</span><br /><br />And then one day when the Boy and Girl are all grown up, the Big girl says to the Big boy :<br /><span style="color:#ffcc99;"><em> "How could you hurt me like this? I trusted you</em>."</span>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-1159427147321857152006-09-27T23:56:00.000-07:002006-09-28T23:26:31.976-07:00AT ODDS WITH DESTINY...<em>Mood ::: Low in spirits</em><br /><em></em><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">There were moments in life when you felt that dreams defined the destiny... and now the moments are rare and dreams everywhere.<br />These two good lines at the start doesn`t mean that destiny doesn`t sucks..it does..just like everyone else...</span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">Now what i can`t infer is the alternate injection of trauma at nodes of our dreams but we can`t blame it too coz it sometime happens to let you open up and discover your ability to cope up with the worse.. </span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">Everytime a sun rises...a moon awaits a chance...</span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">but then there is another day too.<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">A series of unfortunate events happening to me these days are taking the spirits outta me..nah i never mentioned Alcoholic 'spirit'...</span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">Someone stole my mobile...i lost my keys...i lost my things...i messed up a critical code...</span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">Actually there is a lot i have taken back from it..and its all in the form of deep diplomatic disgust from a team senior..infronta team.<br />Robert Bresson once said "When you do not know what you are doing and what you are doing is the best -- that is inspiration."</span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">I sure did it that way--unknowingly and the best... but when my lead lets me into not knowing what i outto know and i messed up this piece of code.it all comes to me...everybody wanna make an ass of things and if you don`t got guts to vocalize then ready to be an ass...<br />They accused saying you should`ve known..gimme a break someone..will you.Its your job to let me know.<br />but as i know that its a 15 years of experience beneath her ass and it isn`t a 15 months for me.so i know i need to call a truce...back off.<br />Off late i`ve been ruminating that as people grow up, they learn to limit themselves to whatever course their destiny takes.They forfeit in the face of destiny and decide not to mess up with it.Well, its kinda two way traffic and if you`re not ready to tread along then actually what i learn is that destiny has this very strange way of finding you.its kinda like pre-planned.</span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">You work too hard,exploit your alter-ego still you don`t get where you ought to be..and then we learn that nothings even in life until you learn to finally level them.<br />There were times when an unfledged immature self of our thoughts wanted to realize itself....only to be disdained by time.<br />Then we think that happiness comes with a price tag..or else everyone around would`ve been bearing that smile on the face.<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">We are unfazed and naive in the face of future.</span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">Lets see whats next....</span><br /><em></em>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-1156869399324793142006-08-29T09:35:00.000-07:002006-08-30T04:01:54.666-07:00Delineations with dilemma<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#ff9900;"><em>This nagging urge to blog atleast once a month causes me Occasional constant infrequent headaches.So i need to pour in something today.A piquant picture of life is oftenly framed in pixels.. Now thats my opinion...Life keeps resounding sagacity through our conscience but the funniest part is that the conscience is the only part of us which feels bad when all other parts are feeling great...!!! </em></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#ff9900;"><em>Cutting the crap and rolling the reels now...</em></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/1.3.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/320/1.2.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><em> Life is not about the breaths you take, its about the moments that take your breath away.</em></span><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/2.1.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/320/2.0.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><em>They say they are happily married.....yeah...she's happy and he is married ;-)<br /></em></span><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/4.1.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/320/4.1.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:130%;"><em>JOB is indeed what you feel...</em></span><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/3.1.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/320/3.1.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:130%;"><em>Heaven and Earth..the lines just faded a little..</em></span>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-1156866682109322712006-08-29T08:14:00.000-07:002006-08-30T00:17:05.436-07:00contd..<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/5.0.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/320/5.0.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><em> Ha Ha Ha ... it says it all...</em></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/6.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/320/6.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:130%;"><em>Who said drinking beer makes you fat???. It makes you lean rather.... lean against trees,doors, walls, friends, strangersand oftenly on ground....</em></span></p><p></p><p><br /></p><p><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/8.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/320/8.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><em> If you can`t out-think them..shoot them..</em></span></p><p></p><p><br /></p><p><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/7.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/320/7.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><em> Never before ..horror was fun and... tasted awesome..</em></span> </p><p><br /></p><p><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/9.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/320/9.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><em> Rude mind...it disappoints when i need it...</em></span> </p><p></p><p><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/10.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/320/10.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><em> When the going gets tough..the toughs get going..</em></span></p><p></p><p><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/12.1.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/320/12.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:130%;"><em>The moments of 'catalyst' when a joke connects.</em></span> </p><p></p><p><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/11.2.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/320/11.0.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><em> Flights of mind...</em></span></p><p></p><p><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/13.1.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/320/13.0.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><em> Mind again..blah blah blah....</em></span></p><p><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/14.2.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/320/14.1.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><em> If it wasn`t for Edison ...we would have been watching television in the dark..</em></span><br /></p>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25113147.post-1156861109924836232006-08-29T06:15:00.000-07:002006-08-30T03:59:57.706-07:00contd... from the previous post<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/16.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/400/16.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:130%;"><em>Child labour....another social taboo.</em></span><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/15.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/400/15.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:130%;"><em>Innovative proposal...(Indecent proposal-Part 2)<br /></em></span><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/18.1.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/400/18.1.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:130%;"><em>World at my feet..bas itna sa khwaab hai..</em></span><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/17.png"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/400/17.png" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:130%;"><em>Lets get back to work guys..boss is on the prowl.</em></span><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/20.1.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/400/20.1.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:130%;"><em>And the most beautiful moment in anyones life goes to...<br /></em></span><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/21.3.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/400/21.3.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><em> Light at the end of the tunnel...</em></span><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/23.3.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/400/23.3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><em>morning breeze..<br /></em></span><br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/22.3.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/400/22.3.jpg" border="0" /></a> </p><p></p><p><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><em>In the end ..it doesn`t even matter...if you are on top..<br /></em></span><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6261/2379/1600/1.2.jpg"></a><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em><br /><br /><br /></em></span><br /></em></span></p>My spacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03377992848389451332noreply@blogger.com0