tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45880223501774358592024-03-21T13:03:15.511-07:00Scribbled emotions!Place to express my feelings about things in life which range from the people I live with to the pencil I use.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.comBlogger70125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-9578729386070167582011-09-27T09:51:00.000-07:002011-09-27T09:57:28.853-07:00Yes or Yes?<p class="MsoNormal">He sat looking at a small sheet of paper in front of him. He remembered the countless number of times, this trick had helped him come out of a dilemma. Because he had figured at a very young age that, deep down, every question had only two answers; either yes or no. From the window close to him his eyes could note the first signs of activity of the day. Instead of registering what his eyes were seeing, his mind was pondering on the thing which had made him get up and sit with a paper, at 5 in the morning. He remembered</p><p class="MsoNormal"> the incidents behind every sentence written on one column of the paper; the little snubs; the disappointments; the harsh words and the pointless arguments. He could feel everything as if they were happening right there in front of him. Only after writing had he realized that so many ‘yet-to-be-considered’ thoughts were stuck deep inside his head. .</p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="http://images.sodahead.com/polls/000479301/polls_pros_cons_5919_338339_answer_1_xlarge.gif" border="0" alt="" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 350px; height: 233px; " /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span> <p class="MsoNormal"><span> </span>But it was not like only one column of the paper was filled. There was the other side, filled with little things he felt when talking with her; little things that he wouldn’t tell others; little things he couldn’t name; the same little things that turned the frown on his face into a smile. <span> </span>He took his pen and wrote her name on the side which he’d always known to be the answer. And as if mirroring his thoughts, the fog outside his window cleared to give way to the beautiful blue sky.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">P.S. <span> </span>We can always search for reasons for liking/disliking a person. But more often than not, it is an impulsive thing.</p></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-42754902788342228802011-06-07T08:19:00.000-07:002011-06-07T08:22:13.505-07:00The End.<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:donotpromoteqf/> <w:lidthemeother>EN-IN</w:LidThemeOther> <w:lidthemeasian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:lidthemecomplexscript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:splitpgbreakandparamark/> <w:dontvertaligncellwithsp/> 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mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0cm; mso-para-margin-right:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0cm; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal">He stood looking at his reflection in the mirror. He looked much older than 43. Wisdom, his followers assumed, was the reason. Cruelty and the pain he’d caused, his enemies claimed, was the reason. He liked to think, that the vast expense of his life that he’d had, was the reason. Without moving from his position, he gave a glance at a painting that he’d hung on his wall, some 3 years back. He’d always wanted to know what others thought of him. This particular painting had been the outcome of not just the artist’s skill, but also his pain and passion towards the people he’d lost. That was the face that a majority of the world associated to his name, but the one looking from a distance of a mere 15 yards was in no measure, as cruel. And he couldn’t help but chuckle at the glass that his ‘supposed’ face was wearing in the painting, because he’d never been a great fan of Mafia shades. He looked back at his life, not because he was proud of it or ashamed of it, but just because he thought it was necessary to do that once in a while. .<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://webzoom.freewebs.com/castlestudios/soprano.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 208px; height: 208px;" src="http://webzoom.freewebs.com/castlestudios/soprano.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Born into a mediocre and poverty ridden family of 8, he experienced school life only until his 5<sup>th</sup> grade. He worked at a tea stall for around 5 years before deciding to do something meaningful with his life. He joined the army, at the lowest rank and came through the rigorous routines without much difficulty because of the minimal sophistication in his childhood. As his rank improved, he began to see the cruelties that his country faced on an almost daily basis just because it wasn’t on the developed side of nations. Frustration began to creep into his life, as he was ordered around by foreign leaders like a puppet, particularly because he’d always thought of himself as a leader. He had the skills and he made a decision. .</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>What followed were headlines and flash news featuring his name. People started taking note of him. Countries started fearing him. On the other side, people started believing in him. His country felt proud of him. Children wanted to turn into him while middle-aged men felt proud calling him their son. There was one woman who felt proud of him and cared for him at the same time. They had met at one of his closest associates’ daughter’s Nikkah. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>He married her one week later and would never leave her for another woman. His power started to grow, but so did the pain inside him. He couldn’t look at her face after every one of his ‘acts’ even though she insisted that it was alright because that was the choice he had taken. They came after him. They missed him by a whisker, many a time. In the process, they killed her. He hated himself for being the reason for the end of such a beautiful being. He learned to live with it.</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"> </i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">He’d grown into such a person, that could actually smile at his life as if he had enjoyed every moment of it. He looked one last time at his face and thought to himself, ‘Catch me, they will, only when there is nothing to be caught!’. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-77236914911881747182011-04-06T10:34:00.000-07:002011-04-06T10:47:04.880-07:00Life and Change.<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:donotpromoteqf/> <w:lidthemeother>EN-IN</w:LidThemeOther> <w:lidthemeasian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:lidthemecomplexscript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> 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mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0cm; mso-para-margin-right:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0cm; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:shapedefaults ext="edit" spidmax="1026"> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:shapelayout ext="edit"> <o:idmap ext="edit" data="1"> </o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal">He entered an empty class room . He slowly walked to and sat on the place on which he’d spent almost every day of the last four years. He looked at the blackboard which had a few numbers chalked on it. Every memory came before his eyes. Every single one <span style=""> </span>. .</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal">He entered the room , after nervous queries to random people. His shirt was drenched with an insane amount of ‘flop sweat’. Few of the students, who were already there, took note of his arrival with neutral and nervous glances.<span style=""> </span>He was wondering where to sit while making his first steps into his classroom and slowly made up his mind and walked towards the final bench. He had always liked positioning himself in vantage points . .</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal">Now the scene slightly changed. The faces where no longer neutral. They had some expression or some movement in their lips when their eyes registered his arrival. It was almost eight months into college and he had grown a few friends and quite a few people who didn’t like being associated with him. It was one of the last days of the fresher year and people were starting to get a grip of the college life.<span style=""> </span>He looked at the entire class on his entry with his eyes sharing a moment of personal contact with another pair which was taking note of his arrival. . </p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal">Next scene: <span style=""> </span>Two and a half years into college, quite a few of his classmates accepted him for what he was and were pretty close to him. It is amazing how people can grow on you and how only a few ‘first impressions’ turn out to be accurate. He was settled in his college life with his circle of friends and they were having a fun time in the class of one of his favourite subjects taught by one of their favorite teachers. .</p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal">Next scene:<span style=""> </span>Beginning of final year. College was his home away from home and friends were the family which mattered the most( at least at that point of time). Every teacher had to come to terms with <span style=""> </span>their notorious behaviour but they never had a problem with handling their class because of a few amazingly talented souls. The classes and days flew away . .</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal">Next scene, last few days of college life. He could feel it from the way people glanced at each other. They all knew it would never remain the same. They all knew everything was going to change. The mood was bittersweet because they had never felt that comfortable in each other presence and they all knew it could last only for a few days. .</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Today: he had just had his farewell. Photos that will be cried at, were taken in abundance with people who will never fade from his heart. He knew that this wasn’t the last time he would see them all but something told him that this might very well be the last time he saw them all ‘TOGETHER’. He wiped off the tiny drops of tears from his eyes and got up to leave. .</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Some gentleman told that ‘Change is the only constant and hanging on is the only sin’. Well, forgive me for sinning because I want to hang on to my college life, even if it is with the tiniest of threads.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-78546054420814641502011-03-08T08:52:00.000-08:002011-03-08T08:56:53.262-08:00The first Woman of his lifeIt was 6 .05 in the morning. It was his 54<sup>th</sup> birthday. He was looking at the woman who was the reason for his existence. She was sleeping at the bed near the window of her room and it was evident to anyone who cared to note, that the breathing was not with ease. It had become a struggle; the past few months.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_GoqTJaLft0xCxkS1mf-rhOGb6H600BE_PHcOIm3oF9dSNY5mlPxpScPF-Srbvw77k2FkI-sVcn7EP5sgIbO0sEMS3szEjHiKuoTJ5rw-GZyxTe9PfZMkd1LDJJaYMGTDhCG59_JFKlA/s1600/images.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 197px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_GoqTJaLft0xCxkS1mf-rhOGb6H600BE_PHcOIm3oF9dSNY5mlPxpScPF-Srbvw77k2FkI-sVcn7EP5sgIbO0sEMS3szEjHiKuoTJ5rw-GZyxTe9PfZMkd1LDJJaYMGTDhCG59_JFKlA/s320/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581753916910336226" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>He suddenly remembered all those times when she was the one who would wake him up, this day of the year, to make him feel special at least for a moment or two, before he went back to living the life he hated. Her little attempts at making him feel proud for the person he was; her boasting to her friends and colleagues about what a good son he was. She’d lost her husband, a year after giving birth to their only son, to a bike accident. He had never understood the meaning of the word ‘Dad’. He had, in fact, never bothered to understand it. It was because of his wonderful mother who was everyone he wanted, to go through in life. <span style=""> </span>Brought up in a society where marks and economic status were considered as yardsticks for judging the quality of one’s life as an adolescent and an adult, he had never felt at home among the forerunners. He was not intimidated by them but he just couldn’t fathom the lives of ‘man-machines ‘, that thought a six digit salary was the benchmark of happiness.<span style=""> </span>He remembered all the little chats they had, deep into the evenings about the most trivial things in life. She was the one who gave him his principles and he’d always felt thankful to her for developing him into a morally stable person. He remembered all those incidents when he would have realised a bit too late, the one or two drops of tears that dripped out of his eyes just thinking about the struggle that her life had been.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>It was a feeling of déjà vu when he felt the moisture across his cheeks and realised that the clock had struck seven. He walked up to her and whispered in her ear, ‘Love you Mom!’ and kissed her in her forehead. That was all he needed, to look forward to one more year of the life he hated.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-56130942934455928212011-01-10T09:43:00.001-08:002011-01-10T09:46:28.629-08:00EpiphanyHe was finally at peace. With her by his side, where he<br />knew she always belonged. Nothing could compare with the<br />serenity and contented glow she always managed to bring<br />him. The past made him shudder. There had been so many<br />times when she had been so close and yet so far from him.<br />He shuddered, remembering the days he’d woken up in the<br />middle of the night, snapping out of yet another dream about<br />the hand which was always in sight, but was never his to<br />hold. He still had trouble believing that this wasn’t another<br />one of those dreams...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://reasonforliberty.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/01/love1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 176px;" src="http://reasonforliberty.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/01/love1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">He’d always been the guy who was around to help her</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">when there was anything bothering her from spats with her boyfriend</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">to arguments with her friends or family.. he was always around,</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">listening to her prattle on about everything under the sun. Yet he was</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">certain that she wouldn’t have been as carefree with him, if she could</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">look through his eyes and see what he saw when he looked at her..</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">He’d liked her from the first day they spoke to each other, and he</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">liked the person he was, when he was around her. Then one day, she</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">told him about the other guy in the picture. It broke his heart, but he</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">could never bring up the courage to stop talking to her. He had a</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">heart brimming with love, and he knew who he wanted to give it to,</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">but he wasn’t sure if she’d ever want to accept it. He never</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">considered telling her the way he felt; He was afraid, afraid that he’d</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">confuse the already confused person that she was! On the many</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">occasions she’d come to him crying and ranting about the feuds she</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">had with the other guy, he had to grit his teeth to stop himself from</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">pouring out his feelings. He knew she deserved someone much better,</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">someone who understood, appreciated and loved every fibre of her</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">being… and all he wanted was to be given a chance to be that guy!</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">She treated him as the closest of close friends, yet he could never see</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">her as just a friend. He knew that she was THE one… Then one day</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">she came running to him with heart-stopping news..she’d broken up</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">with the other guy. He was appalled at how she was taking it... She</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">lost her characteristic sunny and cheerful manner. Even on the rare</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">occasions that he got her to smile; he could see the muted pain deep</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">in her eyes. He became the wall for her to lean on during those tough</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">times. He was always there, to wipe her tears, to soothe her when</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">she woke up out of a nightmare and to help ease the pain, to make</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">her smile and to tell her that everything would be okay. He forgot all</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">about his own hopes and feelings, all he wanted was for her to smile</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">and be happy again.. Slowly he felt her healing and getting back to</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">normal. But everything changed the day she slipped her hand into his,</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">looked at him with shining eyes, and said, ‘I finally know what I want.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">It’s been right in front of me all along!’</span><br /><br /><br /><br />P.S : Edited by someone with a far better grasp over the language than me ;) And the scenario was hers for me to paint :)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-47593310487326989842010-12-05T10:14:00.000-08:002010-12-05T11:06:51.671-08:00HomecomingHe got down from the bus, taking in the surroundings ever so slowly. The places where he'd so often forgot that time moved; the places where he'd come running to, when he felt low; the places which had seen his extreme emotions. He felt complete, after such a long time. It was as if he had left a part of him behind there, just so that he wouldn't forget the boy he was. It had been a long time since he last kept his foot on this land. It was so serene and peaceful, as if nothing had happened; nothing had changed. Yet, there he was, a completely different person coming back for something he had left behind. He was walking at a steady pace now, reminiscing about the day he had decided it was time. .<div> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>His life had been a mess. He was regularly having bouts of depression. He had started to question his place, in the life of others surrounding him. He started to feel like an alien among the closest of his friends. He was wondering whether he was doing what he loved. It was she, who'd told him to 'walk a different road'. When others started to hate his presence, she had felt obliged to comfort him. He still couldn't forget how beautiful she was. Those brown/black eyes; her petite nose, which made a mockery out of the sharpest of lines, when looked at from the sides; her lips, which could slither into a smile with such ease ; her ears, which had all those different angles and curves which no geometry could get close to defining; the curly lots of her hair that he loved twirling onto his fingers. He had missed her the most, of all the things when he had tried to start a new life at a new place. She hated to see him become silent and moody. All he had to do was, to talk to her and everything went back to normal. It was like, she had this power to adsorb all the resentment out of him. He had never known a woman could be so comforting because he had lost his mother at a very early stage in his life. And all of a sudden, it had occurred to him that he was starting to smother her, although she had laughed at him when he told her that. He had told her what he wanted to do and he had been their to see the pain in her eyes, when he told her he had to move away for some time. He told her that he would come back and she told him that she would wait for him forever. They had decided they wouldn't communicate with each other, other than in their presence. .</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>And now, after nearly 9 years he was going back for her. He could still hear her words that were spoken that day; her awkward attempt at being cheerful even though she felt more sad than she could've ever imagined. He was almost there now. A mere five yards separated him from the door he'd so often dreamt of knocking, in his dreams. He felt a hand on his shoulder. A whisper in his ear : 'Forever, is not as long as it sounds' . .</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-36994307886922580592010-09-30T10:38:00.000-07:002010-09-30T11:47:14.164-07:00Compromise<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>It was 11:59 pm. He never really liked being called at that hour and his close ones knew it. He was waiting for their texts, nevertheless. He had grown to expect their texts. There were a lot of people, who made it a point to be the earlier ones to wish him. When he was an adolescent, he even felt proud about having people who took the trouble to stay awake just to wish him. Tick by tick, the second hand, the minute hand and most importantly, the hour hand were all moving towards the mark. It was 12 am. It was 12.01, when he didn't even allow the vibrations to complete, before picking his phone to see who'd managed to wish him first this year. It was actually a number, rather than a name, and he glanced at the words that were typed after a considerable amount of thought.<div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Happy Birthday Buddy. Hope you remember Me.</i></div><div><br /></div><div>Now he got back to the number. He had changed to a new phone a couple of years back and he happened to delete a few of his 'old' contacts. But he needed no name to identify this person. There are certain things that get etched into a part of your mind, that never forgets, and for him this was one of them. The irony struck him instantly. He'd wished that he could forget him but he'd never really been able to. .</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw5rGwQcjvyFLOiBFxQ5q4GDg3QwL8Qn-TfCJNyG1WQJrAMpEWybc-5NUO2TIW5v9mPpUwm9agDQRpWz1H9ZaW-8_AyrYiTfQlXqYE8dfb9ZZfZBUpCuC7zatvvvoUyr-7amQ9j5vWwdg/s1600/friendship2.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 362px; height: 433px;" border="0" alt="" /><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><i>It was the first year of college. Aadithya was someone adept at blending into any crowd. He had no problem finding friends. People who made him feel comfortable at that new place and people, who he'd thought he could turn to, when he was at trouble. But he always managed to realize the hard way that, people were never what they appeared to be. Few of them , who had no shame in using him and few others, who acted like they were true friends. But not all were bad. He managed to find a few true ones as well. The ones that were still in touch with him. The ones that still made him miss college. One of them, was Sathya. Sathya was never taken to be a friendly person. People hardly liked him, before knowing him. Aadithya felt no different. For someone really delicate in the inside, Sathya had this rough and tough swagger about him. He was not openly rude to others but people managed to get on his nerves, a bit too easily. But Aadi managed to see right through him. He became close to him and started to trust him. Getting Sathya to trust him, was totally different. Even after 3 or 4 years he wasn't sure if Sathya liked him as a friend. Time took care of the differences in their character. It made them accept each other for what they were. After all, jigsaw pieces which fit together, don't always look alike. They did have their occasional misunderstandings which had gotten more infrequent and hurting over time. But one of them eventually gave in. Except for once. It had all started with a stupid argument that seemed to have no end. Both of them had refused to come out of their perspective. .</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Ever so slowly, he looked at his watch. It was 12.10 am. Almost 5 years traversed through in 10 minutes! Although he managed to get more friends, Aadi couldn't deny the fact that he missed Sathya at times. He missed his mere presence which felt so comforting. He'd always considered Sathya as an elder brother he never wanted to miss. Even before he could realize it, his fingers had typed the text and were collectively waiting for one among themselves to press the Send button, which his thumb eventually did, at 12.20.</span></i></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-28546921110947021282010-09-16T10:35:00.001-07:002010-09-16T21:44:41.062-07:00Incomplete . .<blockquote> <p>Bharath :</p> </blockquote> <blockquote> <p>He was the kind that stood out in a crowd. Not for his looks; It was his attitude and mental presence that made p eople take notice of him. He had this knack of making people like him, if he wanted them to. And he had this weird obsession of wanting everyone to like him the way he was. He also liked people so easily, that he ended up hurting himself, because of his expectations . .</p> <p> He liked her the instant he saw her. Asked later, he couldn’t remember what exactly was going through his mind, when he saw her. He felt there was something intriguing about the way she looked at him. He couldn’t be sure of whether she liked him or whether she despised him or whether she looked at him like every other guy. When he saw her smiling at her friends, he wanted to be lucky enough someday to have her smile at him like that. When he saw her talking to a guy, he wanted to switch lives with him for that single instant. He wanted to be the person she thought when getting up from and going back to sleep. He knew he was being silly with all his wishes but he just couldn’t control how his mind yearned towards her. He was amazed by how comfortable their eyes had gotten over time. But the confusion still remained. He did not want to turn into someone who disgusted her. He’d plan for days about talking to her but would be too circumspect about talking. He wished he could find out how she felt about him but he told himself that that could be found out only the hard way, by getting to know her. <a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_gOOqtqR1pH0/TJJVbuHmUlI/AAAAAAAAANg/YFAM-2UErwA/s1600-h/puzzle_incomplete-1%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="puzzle_incomplete-1" border="0" alt="puzzle_incomplete-1" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_gOOqtqR1pH0/TJJVcSCynsI/AAAAAAAAANk/v_9S_4PGhlg/puzzle_incomplete-1_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p> <p> </p> <p>Deepthi :</p> <p> She kept to herself. She was not exactly anti-social but had difficulties liking people instantly. She detested attention even if it was positive. But she never was able to be harsh to people even if she hated them. But even though she kept to herself, people recognised her because of her looks. Her mouth didn’t have to tell others if she was angry or happy. It was pretty apparent from her face. Only one person had trouble reading them and she had no idea of telling him that as well . .</p> <p> She normally didn’t look out for people when she walked. She was always lingering in the silent world of hers. But one face was becoming particularly redundant. She had thought he’d stop looking just like the other guys eventually did. But there was something about him that was different. Probably the way he looked at her. He was not casual about her and he was so bad at acting like he was casual.Without even knowing it, she caught his eye more often than she’d have wanted. It was like he was searching for someone deep inside her eyes. She felt special when he looked at her like that. But she wasn’t so sure whether she liked this complete-stranger who never talked. She’d have been better off ignoring him like the other guys. But deep inside her, she felt this was the guy that the girl inside her would love to talk to. She wanted to know what was so special about her. She wanted to know if he was like the others. She wanted to know ‘him’ and surprisingly, she wanted him to know her. .</p> <p> </p> </blockquote> <p> P.S: Some stories are better left incomplete. I want each of you to imagine their future in your own way rather than me telling it.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-65079224052070809192010-09-11T19:54:00.000-07:002010-09-11T20:30:43.654-07:00Life doesn't care to stop!<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><i>September 9,2007 :</i><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I</span> remember walking, no actually running, up to the boarding point for my bus filled with a few nervous individuals and 2 or 3 groups of 4-5 students. First day didn't turn out to be much of a thrill but it was definitely a change in the routine for us all, for we had been waiting for nearly 4 months for life to move on from the boring summer!</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><i>September 9,2010 :</i></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Now I was one of the students in one of the groups. Whenever i see a nervy junior i still remember how tensed i used to feel and it all comes back to me!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><i>The past three years :</i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Being someone who found it hard to make friends easily, i did find the going difficult initially. Days when i used to look into nothing in particular, just reminiscing my school. It is amazing how when you miss someone or something, it is only the good things about them that keep pestering your mind. It was not like i loved High school from day one! And then things started to change. New friends getting ac</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">quainted, old friends trying to keep in touch, although only a few very dear ones last through this ordeal. I still find it amusing when a group of freshers get along so easily that they could have been friends for years. Life started to gain its pace. There were a lot of 'firsts' to be experienced. First hour bunked, first crush, first really embarr</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">assing moment and a lot of others. Out of nowhere we were bunking 2-3 hours a day, playing soccer in the ground and walking to the buses with ou</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">r heads held high as if we had just represented the college team. I still remember one such day when we had been playing and the Chemistry sir had caught up to someone in my class and asked him what we were up to! The answer the guy</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"> gave still has me laughing. We were attending an '</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">AIDS awareness camp' apparently! And slowly the new friends started becoming THE friends while the weaker bonds among the old ones started breaking. . .</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>The soccer part will probably be one of the best memories i will have of college life. There definitely are other memories too! The Industrial visit to Kerala, driving to Rahman's concert happening in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night and returning later than that, cheering CSK with close friends,</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">the NCC camp in Salem, getting ODs for pointless bunking of classes, late night outings to theaters, sleep overs, Symposiums and the Saree-clad girls i liked looking at, rushing to treats and personally, always being late, football in Bessy,Sister's reception and the list keeps going. .</span></i></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUpG300yw9ZZmUo8xz3J2ZbJvCoMPjJ5-AqoD1xYXl2ZoKNNb_bLuoIlkXeRPZNSVWKVXi5-HtzLW89FCtqv4HT91DKzmCMfszOhw7QYA4f7xYFImpfFe_XU3P1mIzP_Yo1FZYgDCaczI/s200/friends_by_ddyellow8.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515864018560126962" /></div><div><i>Today :</i></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>A</span>nd in a few months, all this will be something i can only think about! I am sure most of us will be out of touch in no time, although i hope i turn out to be totally wrong!</div><div>I'd have never thought i'd miss SVCE. And actually, it is true in a way. Am not going to miss SVCE in any way. Am going to miss the friends and if there are any, enemies, i earned in SVCE along with the countless memories i have of them! </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-11381055669459661402010-06-17T09:40:00.001-07:002010-06-17T09:40:11.826-07:00The beautiful game!<p>Growing up in India had me loving a sport more than anything else. Cricket. There were nights spent banging the ball i had tied up in a sock, inspired by Rahul doing the same in a Coke ad. Although i can laugh now at my attempts being futile, i did try my hand at becoming a professional, like every other Indian child. My friends and parents know the lengths i went, to follow the game i loved. But  sadly, my love for the game has dwindled over the past few years. Although not the sole reason, one of the prominent reasons will have to be, a completely different sport,played with the same number of players in either team.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_gOOqtqR1pH0/TBpP5QVHxSI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/J4P3-EPawHs/s1600-h/beautifulgame%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="beautifulgame" border="0" alt="beautifulgame" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_gOOqtqR1pH0/TBpP6iCpJdI/AAAAAAAAAMU/sUBz_wdDPb0/beautifulgame_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p> <p>The beautiful game , indeed! Soccer. It probably started with the pc games i used to play, shooting in 5-goals-per-game using a certain Henry or Zidane. As i grew up, so did my passion for a game, which ought to be loved by anyone who understands it! IS there any better feeling for a midfielder than to see an amazing long ball converted! Is there any better feeling for a striker, than to strike with  a perfect volley! Is there any better feeling for a defender, than to win the ball with a perfect tackle! None, on all three counts, i should say.</p> <p>Week in and week out, players wrestle it out in the name of domestic rivalries and cups. But when it comes to the World cup, they forget their domestic standings and go out and play in their national colours, as proudly as ever. Different styles of play appeal to different groups of people : The ever so flowing game of Spain and Brazil,Argentina; The irritatingly defensive but effective play of Italy ; the total football played by Netherlands and the list could go on. I should admit, as a true fan, that it is irritating when people start to talk as if they know everything about the game only when the worldcup is going on! But no one can help it i guess. Afterall,</p> <blockquote> <p><em><strong>‘Football fever is something doctors have found no cure for!’</strong></em></p></blockquote> Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-80830117931562471512010-05-28T10:14:00.000-07:002010-05-28T10:17:31.556-07:00Beauty'There are few things more beautiful than the sight of a woman(or an adolescent girl) turning scarlet'!<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>There is definitely an incident behind this. I just wanted to remember it. So thought i'd make a post :)</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-245591973354569822010-05-18T05:08:00.001-07:002010-05-18T05:08:27.039-07:00The Crush<p> </p> <p>He was walking down the road. His mind free of all thoughts. That was when a little drop, ever so slowly, fell on his hand. To him, there were few feelings better then to walk in a slight drizzle. His mom had tried to condemn him from doing that, when he was young, but only in vain. He was walking forward, but ironically his thoughts went back to the day when he first did this. He could still remember his mom’s exact words. ‘ It wouldn’t take much long for me to get there! ‘ She probably didn’t realise then, that this was a kid who wouldn’t budge at the slightest of threats.  .</p> <p>It all came suddenly to him. It was like, what hit him wasn’t a drop , but an avalanche of memories. His mind wasn’t free of thoughts any more. He was thinking of a lot of things, suddenly. too much for his mind to handle. He tried to concentrate on what was causing all the trouble. He couldn’t ! He kept trying. Suddenly his thoughts focussed on one face. It amazed him just how much he loved her eyes. Those tender brown eyes, which had a special toast of naughtiness stored for him every time he saw them. And now it was time for his thoughts to freeze. .</p> <p>It was some time before he could control his thoughts again, some time before he started walking again. He was wondering what made him get to that state. And then he got that particular memory..<img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; margin-left: 0px; border-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="733599_walking_in_the_rain" border="0" alt="733599_walking_in_the_rain" align="right" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_gOOqtqR1pH0/S_KDOXXiJAI/AAAAAAAAAI0/mpHkfFdLwZ4/733599_walking_in_the_rain_thumb%5B5%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="195" height="244" /></p> <blockquote> <p>‘He was around 14 then. He had gone over to his cousin’s for his vacation. He had gotten out of the house the moment it started to look like it was going to pour. He went and made himself comfortable on the place where he always sat. It slowly started to drizzle. There was nothing in the world that could give him this exact feeling : Being there all by himself, trying to enjoy nature, for what it was. That was when he had the feeling that he was not alone after all! He didn’t bother. He wasn’t to be disturbed right now! It was his moment of Serenity.  And then he heard her voice. It was like, it reached him past all the droplets that were trying to keep him occupied. He couldn’t resist finding the one who was distracting him! Not that he liked it! It was all gone now! The rain was heavier now. Not his favourite part. Slowly, two girls appeared. Slightly drenched. Trying to get some cover, apparently. He started to leave. And just then did he see her face. Those brown eyes. Laughing at this stupid guy who hadn’t cared to move when the rain was lighter. He couldn’t move anymore.  . ‘</p> </blockquote> <blockquote> <p>He never got hold of how he moved from that place that day. Slowly they became friends. Young people who complemented each other like the Sun complementing the Clouds. To him, she was never ‘just’ a friend. If there was one thing he wanted take to his grave,it was  her eyes. Somewhere down there, he told her how he felt about her. She was the only person who he confided in, everything. Life was never the same after that . . .</p> </blockquote> <p> </p> <p>All those thoughts made him ‘smile’ all through his way. It was 8 years since then. He was still walking when a slight nudge on his shoulders made him stop. He turned, only to look at the brown eyes he’d never stop looking at!</p> <p> </p> <p>P.S : Some crushes vanish in an instant as if they never happened, but some do last LONG!</p> Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-16978565906758260052010-03-28T21:09:00.001-07:002010-03-28T21:09:52.444-07:00Tears!<div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRm1hB4RuH2bBYx6aEvcUSGkcsbem9-9jbT0egkgUYeOmn94bVpmq3JNm-phfWredbVn_VmE66WmK7clEzwW2PvgivtAMhP4sAzlpQOtcgy-z4dZoBxY7hidBsWvBJYvRGCl4CJgL_HTA/s200/silent-tears.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453902573571307570" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px; " /></span><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "><i>T</i></span><i>iny globules of liquid, they are.</i></div></div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span></i><div style="text-align: justify; "><i>Burdened with one's feelings and emotions ;</i></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><i>Feelings of unbearable pain,unbounded joy ;</i></div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span></i><div style="text-align: justify; "><i>Feelings of eternal glory, everlasting despair;</i></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><i>Feelings of separation;Feelings of union;</i></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><i>Feelings of birth;Feelings of death;</i></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><i>Feelings of Love; Feelings of Hate;</i></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><i>Sometimes they just have to trickle down,</i></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "><i>N</i></span><i>o matter, who you are!</i></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-65179169817978781422010-03-28T07:33:00.001-07:002010-03-28T08:00:05.973-07:00My Last few hours as a Teenager.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPscRsTa4KCsl1At-MJpxeaX1wid2TAX2cyjJ_VJednVorgbhYvp0djUv_qdUZIbhNjhdDa1DaauiEt3K0v0vzb5nQl2QJYpfrtJUFdUSrhNz461F1yYgKS3-b9lLuBAT_n22_AP36U5Q/s1600/534077951_ec34a3ccbf.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPscRsTa4KCsl1At-MJpxeaX1wid2TAX2cyjJ_VJednVorgbhYvp0djUv_qdUZIbhNjhdDa1DaauiEt3K0v0vzb5nQl2QJYpfrtJUFdUSrhNz461F1yYgKS3-b9lLuBAT_n22_AP36U5Q/s200/534077951_ec34a3ccbf.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453699574528289218" /></a><br />Ah! So finally the day has to come, when i can no longer call myself a teenager. Looking back, it only makes me wonder what lies ahead. So i make this post, in dedication to the people who've always backed me up : my friends and my parents. Now to the interesting part: I wanted to put in words, the things(not exactly in one or two cases) which i found irresistible ( or finding) at some point or the other, in these twenty years. It is just my opinion and comments are welcome! <div><br /></div><div>1. 'The opposite sex': I had this close friend of mine calling me a 'Casanova' once. No, am not that bad, but i honestly feel that i should fall under the category of guys, who need just a smile to get a crush. No offense intended to all the girls, but that's me being me. If there is one thing i wanted to change about myself, it'd be to get a stronger resolve!</div><div><br /></div><div>2. Friends : It really is amazing, how a bunch of people can bring out the actual me, so easily. I might have only a handful of people whom i can call my close friends, but they make it up for the number being small. People, who i consider my close ones, really know how much they matter to me, so i don't think i have to tell them explicitly.I wish i've done enough to deserve them.</div><div><br /></div><div>3.Being lavish : For a middle class guy, i am extraordinarily lavish! Ask my friends, they'll agree. Ask my Dad, he'll probably write a book on it. Ask me, I'll honestly admit. Another change i want on me is to not be lavish when I am actually not financially independent. All the Gadgets i've bought(and lost) over the years have to fall under this category :P </div><div><br /></div><div>4. People who like me : Now, this is actually a tricky choice. There are people, who can act like they like you, without actually liking you. But i think i can tell the difference more often than not! And the people who are actually honest about this, are worth living for! It is the simple reason, a child might give, for thriving in a particular subject while performing miserably in the rest. These people are to be blamed, if i project myself as an uber-confident person. But their words are the ones which ring in my ears, when i feel very inferior to my surroundings. </div><div><br /></div><div>I think this should do! If it was too boring, i apologize. I thought it was high time i posted something in my blog. </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-73031789536146420932009-12-25T09:47:00.001-08:002009-12-25T09:47:07.357-08:00What it can do!<p>Actually this is in dedication to a friend of mine, as i had promised him. I may not do enough justice, but nevertheless, I'll  try. </p> <p>' There are two kinds of guys, to my knowledge. The ones who yearn to find their soul mate and the others who leave it to the hands of time. People who know me, know which side of the coin i represent. A very close friend of mine, belonged to the latter type.  But he wasn’t one who hated the opposite sex. He did have his moments in school. But he never spent 90 % of his time talking about a girl/girls. I wouldn’t have bet my money on him changing himself over time. But that is what that 4 letter word is capable of , right! It makes the impossible, happen. Actually i don’t know whether something can be called ‘that’ at this age but knowing my friend, i think i should go by his word. He has been let down by her in all possible manner, but this guy is hands up for the phase  ‘keep trying’.  Now that i come to think of it,i am actually reminded of the character ‘Jacob Black’ from the twilight series when i think of what he’s going through. I only wish he succeeds in enduring this ordeal..Because if he doesn’t, i can see him getting hurt beyond imagination.’</p> Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-86367441157900057762009-11-22T10:11:00.001-08:002009-11-22T10:13:43.124-08:00Life and the Ride.<p> </p> <p>The road was almost empty. I could feel the urge to drive her crazy! No offence, but am referring to my bike. The blood was rushing into my forearms asking me to open throttle to the maximum. It was actually a fly over i was riding on,so the wind wouldn’t stop me from wanting to do the same. But i decided to take it slow. I am always glad when i am in some place which can be considered as a vantage point to its surroundings. And i never really like it when i can feel my bike strain under the acceleration i give it. So there i was,going in the optimum speed that she loved moving in. And suddenly a thought occurred to me.</p><p>.<a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_gOOqtqR1pH0/Swl-00Do6JI/AAAAAAAAAHg/MPBkNZdzqSM/s1600-h/170%5B51%5D.jpg"><img style="border: 0px none ; display: inline; width: 176px; height: 164px;" title="170" alt="170" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_gOOqtqR1pH0/Swl-2bshg0I/AAAAAAAAAHk/sKu8xXtzp0Y/170_thumb%5B49%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" border="0" /></a></p> <p><em>How simple and </em><em>enjoyable driving around the city can be,if the roads were this empty and the sight was clear. The air,if not completely polluted,is sweet when it gushes into whatever place it can find in our face. It makes life seem so simple.It gives you a moment of serenity to ponder on things. How easy life would be,if it had none of the twists and turns!How easy it’d be if there is no one blaring at you to keep moving! But take my word,it can be boring like that. How it’d be to wake up and see a winner in the mirror everyday in the morning. After two days,i’d want to lose. Because losing gives all the more value to winning. And for winning you need competition. More than that,Life could be boring without all its twists and turns. </em></p> <p>And bored i was.. When all those philosophical thoughts creped into my head. We got to live the hard way right. Traffic,here i come! </p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-21892226999336946362009-10-16T12:31:00.000-07:002009-10-16T12:33:24.111-07:00A week To remember!<p align="center">At the start of the week,i probably couldn't have asked for more! And by week,i mean the 7 days from last Friday till 23 minutes ago!It has been one week i probably won’t forget for a very long time to come! Let me go back through it!</p> <p align="center">It was 9 in the morning! I got up ever so lazily,with the sun already glancing at me with a hint of jealousy from up there in his position,through whatever gap my window would allow. I had decided to bunk that day due to the various commitments that i had and of course,there was the annual day that was to come,later that day.But nothing went the way,i had thought it would! But there was more than that! While i was driving through the roads which have seen much of me from my childhood,i got to see the  mam who is the reason behind my love for math.I followed her car,only to be greeted by her in the most familiar way of hers and it was no surprising that she remembered me! I am always a bit haughty of the fact that,my teachers can never forget me !Not with the name i have;) Anyways it was good to see her after such a long time! Back to my ‘commitments’ now! When i returned home,relieved of my commitments i was a bit pissed at my clock which showed 6.30! I was supposed to go to an annual day! I started in a hurry only to reach my school at 7.00. And then,time flew by like anything!! Once i get into those corridors,i forget everything about my present! It’s like i was having a long forgotten dream! I wouldn’t forget the minutes i spent that day ,chatting inside my higher secondary class rooms for many days to come!And then we went to our school terrace. And spoke of the things i miss so much in life…….<img height="180" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/6c/School_life_Museum_Chania.JPG" width="240" /></p> <blockquote> <p align="center">Saturday was special of course!It was special for reasons i don’t want to publicize,but my close buddies already know the reason:) Anyways let’s go to Sunday now..</p> </blockquote> <p align="center"> </p> <p align="center">It was around 1.00 in the afternoon when i was walking the straight road to ma friends’ place in Porur.Some 2 hours went by and we started on the long drive to some place called ‘Seyyur’.Travelling with friends is always amazing and that day was no exception! We finally reached the place around 6 30 only to find the place flooded with traffic.It was worth it though!When we got settled,at around 7.00,there was the man,himself!You wouldn’t believe it when i say,he’s the one who got 2 Oscars in the same night!And then what else to expect,but MAGIC! Not 1 or 2 but 4 hours of magic.You never know,what music is capable of!And when it comes from somewhere near ARR, you can have no idea!Am not getting very much into what he sang and stuff.Because,regardless of what he sings or who others are present,Rahman’s capable of making the clock stop ticking!We came home around 3 only to get up 7 to get ready to college:(( <img height="124" src="http://poll.arrahman.asia/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/a-r-rahman-concert-in-pune.jpeg" width="188" /></p> <blockquote> <p align="center">Saturday,Monday and Wednesday were all special for the same reason!The one reason which makes this week all the more special for me!</p> <p align="center">And the week couldn’t have ended on a better note!This is the first time ever,that i am surprising a friend on his Birthday! It ended up as a ‘no’ surprise because of me being late( a habit of mine these days!) but it was special nevertheless!</p> <p align="center">I  almost forgot! Nia celebrated her first Birthday this week too.</p> <p align="center">And guys,HAPPY DIWALI!</p></blockquote> Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-80872595650519917302009-08-29T04:06:00.000-07:002009-08-29T04:27:30.527-07:00Nowhere to go????It's been sometime since my last post..Fair enough,i haven't had anything interesting in life( not entirely true though,some days were interesting but for reasons i wouldn't blog;) ) I actually don't get too many topics these days. Am i undergoing a process of 'change' as person?? Now,coming to life currently, i have this 'I don't know where i am going' feeling all over my head. I mean there are a few in this side who i hear saying 'Dude, I've joined this GRE course.Looks like it is gonna be fun' and there is this other side where i hear few others saying 'CAT is good for people like us'. And there was this lecture this past week i attended, where a professor from IIT asked us to give GATE a try. Now that, did bring a bit of brightness into my dull life but the thing is i must thoroughly decide what i want to do. IT is surely not an interesting path as of now. But the question to which i must find an answer is,will i be able to do well in GATE. And to people who are still thinking SVCE is one heaven of a college, times have changed,sadly! My college is trying to bring in all these rules which most of the other colleges have, which i describe with the adjective silly. So life's boring and i am waiting for september 7th to lift my spirits;);)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-41039517318145283962009-06-14T13:05:00.000-07:002009-06-14T13:23:27.754-07:00'Cup kahinn tho janna padega'!!I am one 'angry' fan as of now!<br /><br />We have the best team that could possibly have put up a title defense,thanks to the IPL. But now, I feel like an idiot,having hoped that this team would bring the cup back.'Cup ka<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2009/06/14/article-1192955-0557A7D2000005DC-578_468x393.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 195px; height: 201px;" src="http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2009/06/14/article-1192955-0557A7D2000005DC-578_468x393.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>hin tho jaanna padega'!All that potential on paper,that could blow off any opposition on its day.It's only sad that,we got our 'day' only in the practice match,against Pakistan.I would've been happy,if we had been gracious in defeat,at least,like Ireland,for instance.God knows what they could've done with a squad like ours!And am still wondering why i don't remember any 'short pitch stuff' planned on Raina in the IPL,when he's pathetically weak when the ball's directed towards his head.And i guess,Viru must be one happy man now.I still don't know if his injury is real or not,but i bet he would've done better against the short pitch stuff!And Dhoni. He's in the action during the matches alright.But sadly,more of that action is during the breaks,in the ads!I know its bad to praise a man when he wins and loathe him when he fails,still,i always thought Dhoni was overrated in everything he did.<br /><br /> But if there is on player who am happy about,it is Yuvi.He did show us his class,which he has in abundance.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-72482835629991096552009-05-10T21:13:00.000-07:002009-05-10T21:21:46.556-07:00To the best person on Earth!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.coconino.az.gov/uploadedImages/Health/mother%20holding%20baby.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 272px; height: 363px;" src="http://www.coconino.az.gov/uploadedImages/Health/mother%20holding%20baby.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />If it weren't for her,<br /> We wouldn't be here.<br />She struggled for three hundred odd days,<br /> just to see our tiny face.<br />We knew her first,<br /> she made us know the rest.<br />She fought most part of her life,<br /> just for us to have a good life.<br />If we don't repay it,<br /> we're probably not worth her.<br />When we're happy,<br /> she'll be there.<br />When we're in trouble<br /> she'll still be there.<br />But when she's not there,<br /> we'll be staring nowhere.<br />To my own mother,<br /> And all the others',<br />One special day for a special person worth 365 such days.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-39423576341245718562009-03-27T10:33:00.000-07:002009-03-27T10:48:04.033-07:00Bucket list!!It's been sometime since my last post!! What else to blame but,lack of time and topics!!And one reminder that am a football freak,the premier league is reaching its business end!!And it seems it is getting a bit too close for United's liking,but like one of ma friends says,its not as close as it looks!!How much i wish that could be false!!!!I wish it wouldn't be a clean sweep of titles by the Devils this time around..<br /><br />Coming to normal things now,I've been watching lots of movies lately,apart from being 'addicted' to 'HEROES' TV show. The latest in that list...The Bucket List...I actually wasn't completely aware of the plot until i saw the movie,but downloaded it because of the 2 great actors it casts. And only 2 hours before seeing this one today,i saw 'one flew over the cuckoo's nest' and was indeed impressed by the younger Nicholson.So i decided to sit down and watch this movie,even though a friend of mine had said that it was a slow but meaningful story.It was exactly that.But it left me with one clear idea of what i might try to do in my later days! Am getting my list ready.'Driving a Gallardo', for one!!Ideas ,anyone???Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-64492888562706068552009-01-15T06:16:00.000-08:002009-01-15T06:57:40.185-08:00Prisoner Of BIRTH..<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.imagomotus.com/images/Prisoner.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 342px; height: 350px;" src="http://www.imagomotus.com/images/Prisoner.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Who isn't???!!! Have you ever thought,how different it'd have been had you been born a couple of seconds before in a completely different hospital??? We always can choose our Destiny,but what we choose is, more often than not,dependent on the people we meet and the way we're brought up!!So that just sums up why i think we're all 'Prisoners of our birth'!!<br /><br /> But,only one's in ma mind right now...And that's Danny Cartwright!!Rings a bell??? If it doesn't,it is the lead character in the book i just completed-'A Prisoner of Birth' by Jeffrey Archer.I have read only one other work of Archer ,namely 'First Among Equals'.It wasn't my genre of interest,but still,i liked it for Archer's narration.Ever since I read about the book's(PoB) release,sometime last year in the papers,i wanted to read this particular work of Archer.And the author himself said that the book could be taken for a modern day 'Count Of Monte Cristo'!Now that's some book i'll never forget in my life(leave alone Edmond Dantes) because it was the first book i ever read(Because it was in my Non detail portions;)). And indeed,i found that most of the plot did match!! <br /><br /><br /><br />The story starts with Danny being convicted for the murder of Bernie,his best buddy and his lover's only brother!He is put in Belmarsh,the prison,and gets himself acquainted with Nick('Sir Nickholas') and Big Al,his cell mates!!Danny's appeal is rejected even though his lawyer Mr.Alex Redmayne tries his best. The actual murderers,a group of three close friends,escape this time and they start to relax a bit....But there was one thing Nick and Danny had in common,Looks..Most of them in the prison mistook them to be brothers.Suddenly the plot gathers speed as Nick is killed(again due to being mistaken for Danny) before six weeks of his release date.With some assistance from Al with the medical files,Danny walks free as Sir Nicholas while most of his family and friends are still mourning 'his' death.He sees to it that what Nicholas inherited from his grandfather, is safe from the hands of his cunning uncle. He then turns his mind to one thing,'REVENGE'.He plans his every move,but still ends up being on trial again,as everyone realise who he actually is.Once again it is Spencer Craig,the actual killer of Bernie,who makes sure that Danny doesn't succed in getting his revenge with aid from his two other musketeers .Then comes my favorite part of the book,'Redemption'.It actually reminded me why i once was,obsessed with 'John Grisham'.Not only is Danny cleared of his current trial,the old trial is revised again,only for the story to end,how it must!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-42588383066264819512008-12-25T20:29:00.000-08:002008-12-25T22:23:48.982-08:00MaChO!!!Bikes are always considered a 'Macho' thing!Although there are a lot of 'the fairer sex' who ride super bikes these days ,you still can't expect a 'rossi a.k.a 46' among them!!When i was wondering,if i could make some post in my blog,yesterday, an R15 'wroom'ed past me and made me decide that the post will,once again,be on biking!!Bikes,always amazed me from my childhood,each having it's own reason! But only some months before ,did i acquaint myself to the technical part of biking!! Anyway,let's forget the technical part in this post.I wanted to decide on, which all will make my 'Ten Favourite Bikes'. Please note that this isn't a rating!!It's just a list of MY ten favourite bikes.And taste ,as always,can differ!!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">1.Honda Stunner Cbf 125:</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img2.orkut.com/images/mittel/1215230774/36563893/pt.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 128px; height: 85px;" src="http://img2.orkut.com/images/mittel/1215230774/36563893/pt.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>First up,i own this bike!!So,no wonder,it's the first in my list!!And secondly,it's a Honda!!I take great pride in owning this machine and would like to note about its ons n offs!!<br /><br />Ons: Looks,performance,pickup for a 125cc , N so on!!;)<br />offs: pretty expensive in its class,Deceptive looks,but not so powerful engine!!<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">2.Yamaha R15</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.yamaha-motor-india.com/dl/wallpaper/img/wp_r15_p7_1024.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 123px;" src="http://www.yamaha-motor-india.com/dl/wallpaper/img/wp_r15_p7_1024.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span><span>Bike of the</span></span><span><span> year,if you ask me!!Th</span></span><span><span>e kind of technology it comes with,can really blow any biker's mind off</span></span><span><span>!!Good looks(but the rear tyre could've been</span></span><span><span> bigger!!),good performance,'very' high </span></span><span><span>price',and a bit low mileage!!<br /></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">3.Karizma zma:</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img337.imageshack.us/img337/7313/vvvvvg8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 192px; height: 155px;" src="http://img337.imageshack.us/img337/7313/vvvvvg8.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span>As an adolescent,i was very much crazy about Hrithik 'hunk' roshan.Actually,i am,still!! And when i saw that</span><span> ad f</span><span>eaturing him,along with this super cool bike,i suddenly found </span><span>my </span><span>spirit rising!!Even now,when i see a Karizma,on the road,i </span><span>can lost rack of the road sometimes!! Excellent looks,powerful engine,standard round performance,decent mileage for its class!!</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">4.Yamaha FZ16<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img206.imageshack.us/img206/6051/fz15ejr1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 171px; height: 131px;" src="http://img206.imageshack.us/img206/6051/fz15ejr1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span>A sibling to the R15, Fz can be expected to give the same performance,if not more.<br />Comes with a Stocky muscular look,whic</span><span>h is further enhance</span><span>d by the huge radial rear tyre!!Infact it reminds me of a</span><span> Batpod!!;)</span><span>India's first naked street bike!The Lord of the streets is here for everyone to hail!!</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><br /><br />5.Yamaha RX100</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2033/2246366744_78c60fce3c.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 160px; height: 126px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2033/2246366744_78c60fce3c.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span>Remember the slim bike which </span><span>announced its arrival wi</span><span>th its spectacular sound??<br />It w</span><span>as much ahead of its time!Even now,when i get to ride one,i can't stop myself from doing a wheelie because of the amzing pick up n power it gives!!The mileage could've been better though!!</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">6.The Bullet:</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.epfguzzi.com/enfield/ENFIELD4.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 158px; height: 109px;" src="http://www.epfguzzi.com/enfield/ENFIELD4.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span>Should i tell more than that?!! Anyway,having that much power in its belly,it is </span><span>any biker's dream ride!!I think the Post</span><span> title suits this more than any other bike!!Any 'macho' gal to drive this one??!! </span><span>Noway!! </span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><br /><br />7.Pulsar,the series:</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/130/365861451_9840c115a8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 157px; height: 113px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/130/365861451_9840c115a8.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span>Definitely male,was what the earlier ads had to say about this one.And it was!!But any day,i'd have liked to have the earlier one(i mean the one without the front mask),which enh</span><span>anced the tank's already huge size!!And it's been a hit with various sections of the in</span><span>dian public,urging Bajaj to release various versio</span><span>ns!!When's that 300cc pulsar gonna come roaring!!;)</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />8.CbZ Original and Extreme:<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/229/507187230_23b7acd65a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 156px; height: 105px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/229/507187230_23b7acd65a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span>The Cbz always had something for avid bikers!Awesome pick up,suiting people who 'live life off the edge';) Its looks could've been better but still a good one from Hero Honda complementing Karizma!!</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">9.TVS Apache:</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://motorbeam.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/08/tvs-apache-rtr-180cc.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 204px; height: 152px;" src="http://motorbeam.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/08/tvs-apache-rtr-180cc.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span>I just didn't want to add this in this list!But halfway through this post,i remembered those days in my first year of higher secondary school,when this bike was released!I was as crazy as anyone else in the city especially seeing the ad,'It's now or never'.But now am getting a bit bored of Apaches actually!!It's like, everywhere you turn you'll see an Apache!!</span><span>Not very good looks,but excellent performance i must say with a lot of Vibes at top end speeds!!</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">10.HonDa FireBlade:<br /><br /></span><span>I know it's a Super Bike,but i just love this bike too much,to not include it in this list just because it's a super bike!!It's one of those bikes,with a name as sexy</span><span> as it looks!And if you'd ask me to name one bike i'd love to</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Oudjb81hChZvp_hdFHj3emQqweFzlOfEbtRwg6N2dYAz2OWKBR2oCA3zLQTRjlKIRs1EaAeM2gsQYiZry2QQIoUnIE2j7TSRDOC1Z54tfn56IR5jBglP3L_l149o6LFazpybHId3Ups/s1600-h/hondafireblade08_14.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Oudjb81hChZvp_hdFHj3emQqweFzlOfEbtRwg6N2dYAz2OWKBR2oCA3zLQTRjlKIRs1EaAeM2gsQYiZry2QQIoUnIE2j7TSRDOC1Z54tfn56IR5jBglP3L_l149o6LFazpybHId3Ups/s320/hondafireblade08_14.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283978965516913538" border="0" /></a><span> ride before i end up in heaven,(ahem am a good boy!!) ,i'd go with this bike for some reason!!</span><span>One word??:</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> Mindblowing!!<br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-38560265070222903652008-11-22T09:27:00.000-08:002008-11-22T09:51:19.199-08:00The sEnSaTiOn!!!!<span style="font-style: italic;">'I take my position, adrenaline pumping and my pulse rate doubled.<br />I look deep into the 'long' road ahead.But,is it so long???<br />With a little press of my finger,12 horses try to leap forward into action,but i tell them,'Not now,you are not yet ready,some other day!!'.Ever so slowly,i start.It doesn't take much time for my hair to get ruffled.I am gaining speed.Not express,but not slow either!!I am getting used to being gaped at by onlookers these days.It's a completely different thing that,they are not gaping at me!.I take fresh air into my lungs(not so fresh though!!).Even before i realize,I've already reached the end of my 'long' road.I get down reluctantly,but its not long before i return back to the same position.I have a feeling of DEJA VU.Wondering what all this is about???I RIDE the SENSATION!!!'</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Guess what I've been up to these days??Nothing!!!<br />Honestly,thanks to Anna university's Dumb 'no, we don't want u to be creative' syllabus,I've been up to 'Nothing' trying to prepare for my semester these days.However,on second thought,there's something else grabbing my attention with ease these days.That's my recently bought BIKE.Comes by the name of Stunner,and as I've tried to explain above,it really IS a Sensation!!A month back i wouldn't have thought I'd get myself a bike,leave alone a new one!!But thanks to one of my friends,i could pester my dad into buying me one!!It must be said that i spend most of my time looking at it in awe,rather than doing 'Nothing'.And in a week,I'd be given the license to abort doing 'Nothing',and take more long drives!!!!;)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588022350177435859.post-34094572838557410112008-10-16T06:24:00.000-07:002008-10-16T06:25:48.657-07:00Mindblowing!!!RAhman's really god!!just listen to d song in the video!!<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PBurz5mAGWw&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PBurz5mAGWw&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649754278071229919noreply@blogger.com0