tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58164903942324240412024-03-06T00:29:43.115+05:30Fervid ConvictionsThe Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-42375385518782920162014-02-06T03:08:00.000+05:302014-02-09T16:55:24.608+05:30Looking back at 10,000<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
He did something last night that he never does in public. As soon as we placed our orders and said our quick 'thankyous' to the waitress, he takes my hands from across the table to squeeze them gently<i> ( never done that in public, has he? NO!!)</i> and says " Happy 10,000th Day to you, Grandma ! "<br />
<br />
At first I go, "WHAT"? and then I'm like , "Oh my God!" . He smiles.<br />
<br />
Yeah, My husband's slightly weird that way . No dinner surprises for our first anniversary but surely he has planned one for my 10,000th day.<br />
<br />
So yesterday I turned 10,000 days old!<br />
<br />
Facebook is busy celebrating their 10th by' looking back '. So I thought that must be a real clever thing to do today.<br />
I don't have a cheesy movie with a fine piano background to share. My Facebook life ain't too fancy, I realised.<br />
<br />
But here are the top 10 things that happened to me in the last <b>10,000</b> days:<br />
<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li>Grew up from a messy eater to appreciating food, flavours and ingredients.</li>
<li>I have started understanding political news. The 'logic, doesn't elude me anymore'</li>
<li>It took me all these days to become a girl, an 'emotional being' as they say. Now I cry shamelessly watching upworthy videos, laugh at silly jokes and smile at simple things. <i>( More about my struggle to be able to CRY can be found <b><a href="http://fervidconvictions.blogspot.ae/2011/08/im-girl-and-im-emotional-creature.html" target="_blank">here</a></b>.)</i></li>
<li>My life long ambition to weigh at least 50 kgs has been met. <i>( Thanks to a certain Ninja growing inside me)</i> Everyone single person who gave me hell just because I was slim can go flog themselves now!</li>
<li> Found and lost Music - and have now come to terms with the unfathomable.</li>
<li> I think I have also finally learnt to separate fantasy from reality.<i> ( Saves you from unwanted disappointment )</i></li>
<li> I was lucky enough to learn Sanskrit, and get introduced to Vedanta.<i> ( And the learning continues...)</i></li>
<li><i><span style="font-style: normal;"> It's true what they say. 'An idea can change your life'. For now,there is an 'Idea', that inspires me every single day. Finally there is a sense of purpose and commitment to life.</span> (More about it, in good time.) </i></li>
<li><i><span style="font-style: normal;"> Gratitude- I have learned to love life and be truly thankful for what I have</span> ( Wouldn't have really understood this without my husband. So, Thankyou ! Once again!)</i></li>
<li><i><span style="font-style: normal;"> I finally understand LOVE, and I proudly consider this to be my biggest achievement so far.</span></i></li>
</ol>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm really glad and content with this list. It's quite a reassuring reminder that you aren't doing too bad in life.</div>
<div>
Are you 10,000 days old yet ? If Yes , what does your 'look- back' say?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
P.S : I also slogged my way to <b>10,000</b> hits on this blog<br />
<br />
So here is a bonus point - </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
11. I started a blog which I callously left unattended for almost a year , and I never lost even one follower? That is too good to be true. Thank you guys, for all your kindness! </div>
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<br /></div>
<br /></div>
The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-61471124574461700282013-08-30T03:50:00.003+05:302013-08-30T04:03:26.636+05:30Just Today<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Its just today. Today is not like other days.<br />
<br />
Today I wanna go back to riding my rusty old cycle in the University campus.<br />
Today I wanna go back to watching Che Guevara movies and feel goosebumps.<br />
Today I wanna sit under the tree drinking <b>Bada Chai</b> and discuss perhaps '<b>cultural hegemony'?</b><br />
Today I wanna huddle up with my mates and create a storyboard.<br />
Today I wanna pack my camera and tripod and set out to shoot the labourers in South Campus<br />
Today I wanna dream of making that one difference they keep talking about.<br />
Today I wanna go and howl at the moon near the new chemistry block.<br />
Today I wanna sleep in the edit suite.<br />
Today I wanna eat <b> Pesarettu</b> and <b>Bagara Baigan</b> from the Mess.<br />
Today I wanna laugh at my blunders.<br />
Today I wanna cry over my fears.<br />
Today I wanna spit on my content.<br />
Today I wanna thank all my mistakes.<br />
<br />
But then its JUST Today.<br />
<br />
'Cause tomorrow I'll wake up, drink a bottle of water , brush and bathe, make tea and breakfast , get ready and go to work.<br />
<br />
And forget about Today.<br />
<br /></div>
The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-4137834597424653842013-03-16T14:08:00.001+05:302013-03-21T00:21:06.422+05:30Of a Mouni Amavasya, and this lovely creature called my husband.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<br />
Oh yes, there is something like that too for us.<br />
The Amavasya that falls after Shivarathri that is. And the practice is to observe complete silence for a whole day, not to mention the upavasam ( which means, you dont eat the whole day, unless you choose to, which is just one very light meal and that too something that is NOT rice )<br />
<br />
You wanna know how it went ? <i><b>Gooooooorgeous</b> ( In a high pitched octave )</i>!!!!<br />
<br />
<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>You don't have to answer to <b>ANYTHING.</b> <i><b>Ain't that really cool!?</b></i></li>
<li>You don't have to give your opinions on any matter . <i><b>Totally what I need !!</b></i></li>
<li>It makes you a better listener. <i><b> Not just listening to others but listening to yourself too.</b></i></li>
<li>It somehow conserves so much energy . <i> <b>I really din't know that so much got used up in just talking, let alone getting into trouble for it.</b></i></li>
<li>And who knows you might also get to play 'call-on-half-cough games' with your husband.</li>
</ul>
<div style="font-style: italic;">
<i><br /></i></div>
Like this one , for instance:-<br />
<div>
<i><b>"Ahem , Ahem !!"</b></i><br />
<i><b> He turns around, looks at you. So you roll your eyes , make a cute puppy face and look at the jug of water on the table and then right back at him . He smiles, picks it up for you. </b></i><br />
<i><b>"Ahem Ahem" ( again)!!. </b></i><br />
<i><b>Now he decides to join you in the game. "Oh , let me guess, you want a glass to drink the water?"</b></i><br />
<i><b>The puppy eyes goes : Blink Blink !! </b></i><br />
<i><b>" Err, then do you want me to plug in the laptop charger for you ?" </b></i><br />
<i><b>Eyes : Blink Blink !! </b></i><br />
<i><b>"Ooooh !! The clothes?? Do you want me to fold the clothes, on the chair ??</b></i><i><b>"</b></i><br />
<b><i> Eyes : Smile !!! </i> :-D</b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oh I know what you're thinking ladies..... <b>:-P</b>. But this ain't over yet.</div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
<i><b>"Ahem Ahem !!"</b></i><br />
<i> <b>This time, he turns around and stands akimbo," Alright, Now What ??" </b></i></div>
<div>
<b><i>Then you make the fish face and blow a kiss at him . And he laughs hysterically ! </i> : D</b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The only time I totally forgot about my Mouna Vratha was when I noticed a small microphone on the Google search bar which said 'Speak now'. It wasn't a promotion for the Taylor Swift album. And in that utter moment of curiosity to find out how it worked , I called out loud to the computer screen <i><b>" Who is Douglas Adams?" !!!!</b></i>!And just as google gave me its search results, I realized how dumb I was!!</div>
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<ul style="text-align: left;">
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrA-qDZGx4gk5EOvDd1zeSQQW_-AVd5fKak_wna0Lk_d0c722HvkN4iH8bFQRK4Q3yrph1iovIbsIRURTNIkRN5ZrI-7RJ6WlXT0RDN6wGtic9mZYVYaIltaqXGZylCyHucEl4MSP9vsZl/s1600/Untitled.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrA-qDZGx4gk5EOvDd1zeSQQW_-AVd5fKak_wna0Lk_d0c722HvkN4iH8bFQRK4Q3yrph1iovIbsIRURTNIkRN5ZrI-7RJ6WlXT0RDN6wGtic9mZYVYaIltaqXGZylCyHucEl4MSP9vsZl/s1600/Untitled.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
But all jokes apart, I wasn't too bothered about not being able to speak . What I really missed to my horror was one of my deepest darkest fears........... <i>( wait for the drum roll)</i> <b>SINGING . :-(</b><br />
<br />
I had the hardest time resisting my urge to sing. Every time, I would want to hum a song, and I had to remind myself, No, I can't! At least not today.<br />
I have penned down about my struggles with this before right <a href="http://fervidconvictions.blogspot.ae/2011/07/many-moons-ago.html" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: blue;">here</span></b></a>. And today I'm married to the man who was my solace, those days. I can't appreciate more, how much he has tried to help me get over it, since then and still does.<br />
<br />
This man, who remembers to kiss me even in between his deep loud snores. <i><b>( I find that really funny and adorable at the same time)</b>. </i>This man who did not forget to grab my hand and drag me along; before he jumped out of the bed and dashed out of the room in the middle of the night <b> (<i> Umm. Bad dream. Earthquake , apparently. Lemme not say more </i>:-P</b><i><b>)</b> </i><br />
This man who honestly puts an effort to understand me better everyday and loves all my in-capabilities alongside my mad love for him.<br />
<br />
Dear<b> <a href="http://fervidconvictions.blogspot.ae/2011/09/so-thats-how-it-feels.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Moth</span></a>,</b><br />
<br />
Its an honor to be your wife. And I bet we'll have loads of fun growing old together. :)<br />
<br />
Oh, Happy Birthday by the way ;)<br />
<br />
Love ,<br />
Flame.<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-54548473272669117012012-09-14T13:59:00.001+05:302012-09-14T14:01:41.306+05:30Free From YOU<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<br />
Im Sorry, we turned bad and bitter<br />
Im Sorry, we grew far and foreign<br />
Im Sorry, we are strange and stiff<br />
Im Sorry, but I want to be free from you<br />
<br />
You remind my debts and don't let me dream<br />
You reflect my pain and make me scream<br />
You bring out my worst , let alone rest<br />
To free myself of you, I think is best<br />
<br />
Hoped you would help, not hurt me<br />
Wished you would love, not mock me<br />
Now I wonder if you'd ever be proud<br />
Now I think if you'd ever let me be.<br />
<br />
Forgive me for giving up on you
<br />
Forgive me for trying so hard<br />
Forgive me for losing all hope<br />
Forgive me for freeing myself from you<br />
<br /></div>
The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-28364326250673632972012-06-20T23:55:00.001+05:302012-06-28T21:00:33.512+05:30SNAFU,SUSFU, TARFU,FUBAR,.....aaaand BOHICA.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
No, I haven't gone cuckoo.<br />
I just feel , Im on a warfront, and its been officially declared <b>SNAFU</b> - " Situation Normal: All f***ed up" But its bin quite sometime now , and now I feel, <b>SUSFU</b> - " Situation unchanged : Still f***ed up" And in no time Im gonna be<b> TARFU</b> - " Totally and royally f***ed up". And I really hope I dont become <b>FUBAR</b> - " F***ed up beyond all recognition".<br />
Why?<br />
---------------------<br />
<b>Scene : Railway Police Station Secunderabad.</b><br />
<br />
<br />
Seriously,this is not what I expected a police station to look like. It was like any other Govt. office. Documents literally flying all over the place. Not many of them are in their uniforms, sipping chai, jabbering away in telugu. Pot -bellied , mucchad uncles all of them. Some tall , some, not-so-very-tall.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b><i>Police Uncle: </i></b>Ammayikku Em Aayindi? <i>( What happened with this girl?)</i> He asks without looking up at me.<br />
<b><i>Me :</i></b> Sir, I lost my bag, sir. Before Guntur, somewhere close to Nidubroli.... The robber has left another bag, in place of mine, sir. <i>( I showed him the bag I found- My consolation prize which had an umbrella, a half drank bottle of Minute maid Orange and a duplicate RADO wrist watch)</i><br />
<br />
<br />
Meanwhile a group of men hauled in a real skinny fellow and led him to another room nearby.<br />
<b>In the Background :</b> <i>Dishoom Dishoom Aaaaarrrrgggh</i><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><b>Police Uncle:</b> What you lost?? ( in a strong Telugu accent)</span><br />
<b>Background </b>: " ledu ledu sir, leduuu, nenu cheptha... cheptha" <i>( No, No no no Sir, I'll tell ... will tell)</i><br />
I tried my best not to get distracted by all the wailing and howling behind me and said "Sir, Nenu Lap top bag, ID cards , Return Train Tickets, Exam Hall ticket, Konjam Loose cash, inka konjam necessary clothes motham poyindi , sir."<br />
<br />
<b><i>Police Uncle:</i></b> Laptop-u???<br />
<b><i>Me :</i></b> Ledu Sir, No Laptop.<br />
<br />
<b><i>Police Uncle:</i></b> "Give me one written complaint", and passed over a plain white sheet of paper to me.<br />
<br />
As I went and parked myself outside the station to write down the complaint, my eyes quickly scanned over the notice board which had photographs of wanted burglars, suitcase lifters, pickpockets, and chain snatchers.<br />
<br />
And Maaaan!! Dont they all look decent! Some of them have even suited up for the photograph. Meanwhile a lady came out of the station, crying, begging, pleading.................and from nowhere did it look like,she was trying to find a missing bag, it looked more like she couldnt find .........a person.<br />
<br />
And I prayed silently for her, ' may it NOT be her child, Oh Lord!' and finished my letter.<br />
I ran in back to hand over the letter to Police Uncle, and he points to chair and says " Kurcho amma" ( Sit, girl)<br />
<br />
I sat , and waited!<br />
He came in and out., and finally came in again, asked me to get up, took my chair and turned it towards an old computer . He opens a word file and starts filling in my details. He types in such a pace that I wanted to politely tell him, 'Uncle ......err can I help you' . It took him a full 20 minutes to just erase the details of the previous complainant and fill mine in.<br />
I stood there. Admiring my patience , observing my growling stomach and appreciating his diligence.<br />
He copied the document in a thumb drive and went out. When he came back with the print out, he asked me to sit again and explained as he placed his signature and seal . " Look Amma...., this certificate should be enough for you to travel to your exam centre and back to Kerala. You can provide this at your examination centre also for duplicate hall ticket."<br />
<br />
I thank him and open the document to read it, and it said.<br />
<br />
<b>" This is to certify that the following person lodged a complaint stating that she lost her belongings while travelling to Secunderabad.</b><br />
<b>A thorough check has been carried out but the missing bag and its content were not traced. In this regard all possible efforts were made to trace out the missing bag and its contents , but in vain.</b><br />
<b><br /></b><br />
<b>Hence Certified. "</b><br />
<b><br /></b><br />
<b>Signed</b><br />
<b>Sub Inspector of Police</b><br />
<b>RPS- Secunderabad </b><br />
<br />
<br />
P. S : The TTE in train had consoled me earlier, " Be grateful that YOU were not harmed. Forget your bag! This form is just a formality beta, now move on with your life"<br />
P.P.S: An elderly lady consoled me, " Think that you've donated all your stuff to someone" (Yeah, right! How benevolent of me to give away my bra-panties )<br />
P.P. S.S: The first two things I checked as soon as I realised I lost of my bag was:<br />
1) My wedding ring : Its there. Thank lord platinum doesnt look pricely<br />
2) Moth's Tee : My only consolation in FUBAR situations. That thankfully was in my suitcase , so the good news is I can still bury my face in it and sob.</div>The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-80331781523383145562012-05-25T19:51:00.000+05:302012-05-25T20:25:13.377+05:30BUSY BEE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When half the nation is watching IPL, I’m
watching..........Guess what?? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Scripps National spelling BEE!!!</b> <i><b>(BAH!! Can’t care much for cricket anyways,
let alone IPL, however much glamour attached to it.)</b></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And lo! Half the
contestants in the competition are Indians. And apparently its always bin that
way. And Oh boy, aren’t these kids SMART!!!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can understand if a 10 year old can ask for the
definition, etymology, part of speech, alternative pronunciations, and guess
the spelling of a word. I have seen
enough spelling bee contests to digest THAT fact. If you have learnt enough
<b>French, German, Italian, Greek and Latin </b><i><b>( thats too many languages already for
a 10 year old)</b> </i>you can break down the roots and guess the spelling of a hell
lot of words in English.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But words that originate from <b>Papuan, Aramaic, Hebrew,
Mayan, Finnish???</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
These words that don’t even exist in normal dictionaries???</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And you see 12, 13, 14 year olds spelling Words like <b>Huipil, puszta, zwischenspiel, preux, jugendstil</b>….</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yeah!! What the ****! My reaction exactly! I can’t even
spell <b>'bourgeoisie'</b> sometimes
without referring.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And here are some of these spellers’ favorite words:<b> cwm</b> and <b>humuhumunukunukuapuaa. </b><i><b>( I dont wanna even comment on that!!)</b></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><b><br /></b></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Do you want to be astonished every single moment as the
young BEES spell a word right and feel the same pressure every time they're a
given a new word. Do you want feel joy, disappointment, confusion, and
nail-biting excitement without the ruckus of pointless commercials in between? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXW3xbN8YnRG_X0tYfZq6R0pIxq16eqJzleYZkyI7oFRNWRu0uDfFjCtV9sF36AU1CjeEK4kVpTrFpGqkpwdgRSPyMcpT_WZzkdOFHL9gIbU1IeHozR3h0rnDtvAzRUoBnm-ruD5eaWr8N/s1600/20110603_sukanya-roy_33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXW3xbN8YnRG_X0tYfZq6R0pIxq16eqJzleYZkyI7oFRNWRu0uDfFjCtV9sF36AU1CjeEK4kVpTrFpGqkpwdgRSPyMcpT_WZzkdOFHL9gIbU1IeHozR3h0rnDtvAzRUoBnm-ruD5eaWr8N/s400/20110603_sukanya-roy_33.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sukanya with her trophy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And do you want to feel pride every time an Indian wins? <i><b>(Like
I felt last night when 14 yr Sukanya Roy from Pennsylvania walked away the
champion after the spelling ‘cymotrichous’)</b></i>,
then may be you should watch Spelling Bee, especially if you're a Logophile like
me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
P.S : 2012’s Spelling Bee is going to be telecast on ESPN this May
30 and 31.Please don’t mind if I aint blogging much, ‘cause I’m busy watching
BEE!! <span style="font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-82834686591585225222012-03-27T00:18:00.000+05:302012-03-27T13:02:53.692+05:30I want my life.........................<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Disclaimer: Time pass writing ahead.......
Apologies for not showing up regularly !!<br />
<div>
Super busy , tired and mostly day dreaming..... So here is a glimpse to some of my fleeting thoughts, which I had to quickly hold by its tail and struggle and juggle to force it onto the blog. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbEmSKisxZGWRz38-DoKpc2xC8SHK_843qN_kJKuXjvAuETbWlcaZUDYDur0lJmacEWDFD9hkBJv5eGkL8Jt3vnf8gyv5WCCC1-CyprK_6l7uMtHDBOy0WTKbaLOWNeyBhfQs_dUaRGnsm/s1600/Picnik+collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbEmSKisxZGWRz38-DoKpc2xC8SHK_843qN_kJKuXjvAuETbWlcaZUDYDur0lJmacEWDFD9hkBJv5eGkL8Jt3vnf8gyv5WCCC1-CyprK_6l7uMtHDBOy0WTKbaLOWNeyBhfQs_dUaRGnsm/s400/Picnik+collage.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I want my life..................</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
To be an Einaudi
playlist.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
With no lyrics you
smile, without wings you fly</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
To be a Mindy Gledhill
song</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
And float like “a
scoop of vanilla cream in strawberry soda”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
A Shakespearean sonnet,
a poem by Neruda</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
A parmesan Pizza, a
fruity Faluda</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
A prose by Lamb, A
Murakami story
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
A tulip garden in all
its glory</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
A van Gogh painting, A
Tuscan villa
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
A sunny afternoon over
a yummy Quasedilla</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
To be as pure as the
driven snow
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
And as delicate as the
morning dew</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
To have the beauty of a
setting sun</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
And the calmness of a
millpond</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
To be wild, full and
free all above</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
And to always have you
and your love</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-59685197838991743032012-01-20T12:31:00.002+05:302012-01-20T12:31:32.684+05:30My 'Special' Day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="western">
It all starts , when you wake up with a bump on
your forehead <i><b>( Mosquitoes in Kerala have apt timings!)</b></i></div>
<div class="western">
Then you're not allowed to go to receive your best
friend.<i><b>( You're the bride, you should always stay in.)</b></i></div>
<div class="western">
You're not allowed to 'talk too much.' <i><b>( Your
'frightening frankness' might just offend people )
</b></i></div>
<div class="western">
Dont laugh loud <i><b>(It is interpreted as
indiscipline)
</b></i></div>
<div class="western">
Dont play with or carry any babies.<i><b>( They drool
and spoil your saree/makeup. The stiffness of the saree becomes more
important than showing your love to the one thing that brings you
utmost happiness - babies)</b></i></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
Not to mention the beautician, who transforms you
into<b> 'the frog princess' </b>you heard of in books and fairy tales <i><b>( No exaggerations here)</b></i></div>
<div class="western">
And the photographer who would make you go <i><b>“ Im
gonna kill you, and I will die too”</b></i></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
All you know is you are a puppet !<i><b> “Tilt your
head, come forward, lean backward, open your eyes, show your teeth
while you smile, look into the lens”</b></i>- puppet!
</div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
And you cannot give <i><b>ANY</b></i> of them your piece of mind
( <b><i>#1 Its not ethical to interfere in someone's work. They should be given their freedom to work</i></b>. <i><b>#2 You would be upsetting your dearest
ones who hired them for you. #3 Giving your opinion= Throwing Attitude. And when you're the bride, its a BIG NO -NO )</b></i></div>
<div class="western">
<i><b><br /></b></i></div>
<div class="western">
So you don't know who came, who passed, what did
they think of the food? Did they enjoy the time they spent?</div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
You are so miffed and miserable that you do not
want to even look at the man, you have been waiting and pining for. </div>
<div class="western">
You want the day to end!
</div>
<div class="western">
You wanna run home and grab his T shirt , bury
your nose in it and melt in that smell of his sweet hot sweat, hoping it would drive away all those
dreadful moments of your horribly <b>'special' </b>day.</div>
<div class="western">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western">
<i><b>“Its your day”</b></i> they say. And thats the day, they walk all over you.</div>
<div class="western">
Not over! As a final means to torture , you also
get to sing a song and entertain the guests.</div>
<div class="western">
And there!!! Congratulations to you! You've
finally earned the trophy for the <b>'most annoyed bride'</b>!!</div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
<b>P. S :</b> I only got engaged! The big day is yet to come! Sigh!</div>
<div class="western">
<b>P.P.S:</b> But there were a few moments that cracked me
up though. Like when the groom gropes for your feet with his, to
check if you're wearing sandals . And a few real cute ones. Like
where you look the ring before you put it on him and you see the
lines <a href="http://fervidconvictions.blogspot.com/2011/09/so-thats-how-it-feels.html"><b>' Like a moth to a flame'</b></a> engraved on it :)</div>
<div class="western">
<br /><br />
</div>
</div>The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-1080417195962025792012-01-09T02:11:00.001+05:302012-01-09T02:11:40.628+05:30What are they made of ???<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoBodyText">
Living alone is so much easier. You wake up whenever you
want. Cook and eat whatever you want. </div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
Who cares if you haven't made the bed?</div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
Or left the tea cup all day on your table, till you
finished that book.</div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
You don’t have to worry about feeding your family,
cleaning the house, fixing that faulty phone, washing clothes, or watering
your plants. </div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
Functioning in a family; being at HOME….is altogether another
ball game.</div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
I made the terrible mistake of helping my mom in the
kitchen yesterday. And now I drown and drench in remorse and shame, feeling like
a worthless worm.</div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
---------------------------------------------</div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
Woke up slightly early, and gave a hand in making a few
chappatis, and a curry; and let her go to get ready for work, as I washed the
vessels and cleaned the kitchen.</div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
I was feeling both happy and worried. </div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
Happy ; for I was able to give her some time off! </div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
Worried ; 'cause I took almost two whole hours to complete
the most basic chores in the kitchen.<i> (I gotta do some serious catching up)</i></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
Just when I was filling my chest with that pneumatic pride
of being the most dutiful daughter, I see my mom coming out, her forehead
smeared with <i>chandanam.( sacred sandalwood paste)</i></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
So what was our lady doing with that extra few hours that I
worked hard to give her?</div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
She prays! <i>“Its Makayiryam”</i>, she says. <i>“Its good to fast today,
for the well being of your children”</i></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
I give her sometime for herself, and she spends it all off
praying for her kids!</div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
I stood there for a while, knocked out- my eyes following
her but meanwhile imagining if I would have the courage or strength to be half
of what she is, when I get there. </div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
This woman, who still holds the stitches down her stomach
every time she coughs, asks only one thing of me as she rushes to work, <i>“Eat on
time, darling”</i>. </div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
She fasts, and I have to make sure that I eat! </div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
I sat down at the porch, till I saw her take the turn down
the road and wondered...... </div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
Mothers!! What are they made of? Really?</div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPwhLN_ywArQO3u50OLLc9JjgUZ0lHO0pYEAdo3ddSEgCvzOYmcBhZUsL61X8ooIbHF26yqS43yXKj500mKJ75nrW5AETWCFIuCjamNN0qPA6tyL3eqUG0gdr-p8sMcjo8KqgPHXEvjIht/s1600/mother-and-daughter-natalia-tejera.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPwhLN_ywArQO3u50OLLc9JjgUZ0lHO0pYEAdo3ddSEgCvzOYmcBhZUsL61X8ooIbHF26yqS43yXKj500mKJ75nrW5AETWCFIuCjamNN0qPA6tyL3eqUG0gdr-p8sMcjo8KqgPHXEvjIht/s320/mother-and-daughter-natalia-tejera.jpg" width="226" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
And somehow Im reminded of a quote by one of my favourite
authors:<b> “Think what cowards men would be if they had to bear children. Women
are altogether a superior species”</b>*</div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
* George Bernard Shaw</div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
<b>P.S:</b> And today, our lady is fasting for her Husband's well
being (Thiruvathira)! Mothers, I tell you!!</div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
<b>P.P.S:</b> Sorry guys! Im actually in a phase where Im thinking,
<i><b>“Men are great! And every woman needs one” </b></i>And Im in no mood for any sort of male
bashing, But I just couldnt help but agree with Mr Shaw here.</div>
</div>The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-54149739926068098572012-01-04T16:20:00.002+05:302012-01-04T16:28:31.634+05:30All about Silent Prayers......<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
Absolute gratitude is what I feel now!</div>
<div class="western">
Complete
awe and reverence for every single moment that I got to live and
experience.</div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
Have you ever had such glorious moments- the
strength and the sweetness of which brings you down on your knee?
</div>
<div class="western">
Have you gone through feelings that simply cannot
be penned?</div>
<div class="western">
Experiences which cannot be held in words? The
ones you know that wouldnt be just to reduce them down to words?</div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
So precious that you know not if you're worthy of
such a privilege.</div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3fRvLzZkow4a7ByC03fU7OtF8Qrtv9CLy2FrGsDg0FNL5SEGA6J6RuJwn2P8gtkh100noRjTbwTIXJvE-25b2e0JUvDz9oWokFeAe1-Afdg4fbDd3aOUwKilx0aVWzBJ66EMp2fdJln9e/s1600/Carolyn_Hampton_Silent_Prayer2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3fRvLzZkow4a7ByC03fU7OtF8Qrtv9CLy2FrGsDg0FNL5SEGA6J6RuJwn2P8gtkh100noRjTbwTIXJvE-25b2e0JUvDz9oWokFeAe1-Afdg4fbDd3aOUwKilx0aVWzBJ66EMp2fdJln9e/s320/Carolyn_Hampton_Silent_Prayer2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
And you are so content that you cry.</div>
<div class="western">
And that riveting release of tears strangely
enough brings you joy............. not happiness........ JOY!!</div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
And in that beautiful blessing, that sweet
sadness, that piquant pining, that mighty madness....</div>
<div class="western">
All that you can do is send out a prayer.......</div>
<div class="western">
A
silent and sincere one.</div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
Life has been about such silent prayers lately....</div>
<div class="western">
It makes me wanna spin!.... Slowly spin like a sufi monk!
</div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
P.S : Im home, and guess what I find? <span style="color: purple;"><b><a href="http://fervidconvictions.blogspot.com/2011/09/one-on-serendipity-bulky-uterus-and.html">Chingaari is pregnant</a>!</b></span> AGAIN! :)</div>
<div class="western">
<br />
<br /></div>
</div>The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-45884941335001409982011-10-02T02:33:00.000+05:302011-10-02T02:33:55.619+05:30These days...: A Reverie!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="western">
I have a screaming nose! Really big! He pulls on
it every morning and wakes me up. Yeah HE wakes me up! I would open
my eyes into the most beautiful and exquisite smile on the planet .
</div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western">
He laughs and dashes out into the living room. I
jump out from my bed, and run after him. I can see him hiding behind
the curtains and peeking out...So I sneak up slowly and lift
him from behind .....and his laughter fills my morning! And my home!</div>
<div class="western">
I carry him into the bathroom and pull out his
foot-stand for him so that he can see himself in the mirror, while he
brushes with me.</div>
<div class="western">
<b>These days</b>, I dont have to help him with
brushing. But he still wants me to take a look at his squeaky clean
teeth and wants my approving nod, before he can climb onto my back
for his morning salsa.</div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal;">
<span style="color: black;"><b>“<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Raindrops
on roses and whiskers on kittens<br />Bright copper kettles and warm
woolen mittens<br />Brown paper packages tied up with strings<br />These
are a few of my favorite things”</i></span></span></span></b></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal;">
<span style="color: black;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span></span></b></span></div>
<div class="western">
I go about in the kitchen making breakfast, with
this l'il giggling piggy on my back, singing with him.</div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal;">
<span style="color: black;"><b>“<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Girls
in white dresses with blue satin sashes<br />Snowflakes that stay on my
nose and eyelashes<br />Silver white winters that melt into
springs<br />These are a few of my favorite things”</i></span></span></span></b></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal;">
<span style="color: black;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span></span></b></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;">And
if I get the lines wrong , he would just sink his teeth onto my
shoulder. Im extra cautious now. </span></span>
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>These
days</b> I rehearse his
class rhymes and songs before I can say 'Amen' at night . And I would get the 'stares' from his daddy.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">No
one believes me at work when I say ,the reddish-purple bruise at the
back of my neck is a punishment for goofing up some rhymes.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="western">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>These
days</b></span> I spent more time
on sites like, howstuffworks, answer.com and wikipedia rather
than youtube and my favourite blogs. How else will I find answers for
questions like <i>“ Why will I not get red , if I mix blue and
green”?, “ Why is it that 'girl-cows' dont have horns?” “How
is that daddys got a different smell”? “ What does daddy mean
when he says <b>'that was orgasmic' </b>at dinner?</i></span></span></div>
<div class="western">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6cWGuEr6Nl2xItbYzHwnmgZuUeMyvU5Zc0j3z19vGjrgX-jvhTWzP4EOVCmF8FsX16nzFZO32KGu6THLqEKGt1umnsSyu2MTBKbES7beFsPi_KVOcRvOpKpq9SqWqqZIAVO5UYOZ4g3sJ/s1600/reid+paint3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6cWGuEr6Nl2xItbYzHwnmgZuUeMyvU5Zc0j3z19vGjrgX-jvhTWzP4EOVCmF8FsX16nzFZO32KGu6THLqEKGt1umnsSyu2MTBKbES7beFsPi_KVOcRvOpKpq9SqWqqZIAVO5UYOZ4g3sJ/s320/reid+paint3.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>These
days</b>, I look more
stumped and astonished than ever. Gone are the days when he would
point his finger and say 'Ga Ga' or ' Thaa Thaa' and I had to only
reply with monosyllables like, 'fan' ' ball' and 'doll'.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="western">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">And
this morning I rush both son and father to the door as usual to wish
<b style="font-style: normal;">“Good day”</b>. His dad picked him up so that he can reach my cheek
to kiss me goodbye. He slips his hand around my neck , presses his
tiny lips on my cheek and then looks at me , eyebrows creased and
says <i>“You look tired darling, may be you should take an off and
just sleep the whole day”</i></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">My
eyes popped , out of sheer shock.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="western">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">And
I told myself as I watched them walk down to the porch <i>“ They grow
up really fast </i><i><b>these
days</b>, dont they”?</i></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="western">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b><i>P.S
: I wanted to write my version of 'Dream Children' from the day I
read Charles Lamb.( except that I dont like waking up from the dream)</i></b></span></span></div>
<div class="western">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b><i>But
HE doesnt have a name yet. Any suggestions??</i></b></span></span></div>
</div>
The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-43249805453527150942011-09-21T02:07:00.001+05:302011-09-21T19:56:54.482+05:30The moth and the flame<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>When your feet drags, where it used to sprint</b></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>When your eyes smile, where it used to squint</b></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>When your hand trembles, where it wanted to grab</b></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>And you forget to breathe, but rather gasp</b></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>You look away, and your eyes wander</b></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Not 'cos you want your mind to ponder</b></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>For, you just dont want your eyes to tell
</b></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>What your heart is afraid to say</b></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Then comes the day you learn from a moth</b></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>That <i>“the flame has always been you”</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ShkZJm35nPlr9Y6sUCtwie0D1FQxOfJiK-yD6-3-YWkIv-crVlB1RpwefLbIvcf9n9j9CWMDC1ufbhDfUXvZvT9yTI1u3q6wdnb2WPEGqlu6_VJsVUZGJFRn_okicEHuW1wGORApStJ1/s1600/the+moth+that+hath+met+thy+flame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ShkZJm35nPlr9Y6sUCtwie0D1FQxOfJiK-yD6-3-YWkIv-crVlB1RpwefLbIvcf9n9j9CWMDC1ufbhDfUXvZvT9yTI1u3q6wdnb2WPEGqlu6_VJsVUZGJFRn_okicEHuW1wGORApStJ1/s320/the+moth+that+hath+met+thy+flame.jpg" width="192" /></a></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> Then you know, those awkward silences that passed
both</b></div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>When you run out of things to talk; been 'cause
neither could say 'I love You'
</b></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>A secret desire to hear it from him </b><b>and wish</b></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>He might have
whispered
</b><b>under his breath </b></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>“<i>Funny, how lil we remembered of each other back
then”</i></b></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>And what would it take now to
forget.</b></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>And so is this how it really feels?</b><br />
<b>To fall that hard, with nowhere to land</b><b> </b></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>That quiet shudder, when you watch him stand</b></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>'Unable to stay …....and unwilling to leave.....'</b></div>
</div>
<div class="western">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-49426317222269130932011-09-17T01:20:00.004+05:302011-09-17T01:24:24.177+05:30The one on Serendipity, a bulky Uterus and the constant Pregger!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="western">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;">“</span></em><em class="western"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>Serendipity</b></span></span></em><em class="western"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-style: normal;">
is a fortuitous discovery, especially while looking for something
entirely different”, says the dictionary. </span></span></em><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>Happy
accidents </b></span></span></em><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;">,
basically! </span></span></em>
</span></div>
<div class="western">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;">But
I wonder if there is a word for </span></span></em><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>eerily
awkward and embarrassing accidents</b></span></span></em><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;">!
All you Logophiles,...... HELP me out please .'Cause, I would really
like to know what </span></span></em><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>this
thing is </b></span></span></em><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;">,
that has been happening to me over and over again.</span></span></em></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></em></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg0YA5XhYiJmG1bahlgNdAOOcDV3lMb3xpKym7Aklmp7jBWD0awEsEAzAPjgDWj69JoXZlY3x7k8IiSXE1llKx-_A4IDGMS8zoALYAjPf1d6Y7WvptK955UTjIFyy1RESfSj4EgxM2IdKO/s1600/6a00e54ef4f3768834013482809a41970c-320wi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg0YA5XhYiJmG1bahlgNdAOOcDV3lMb3xpKym7Aklmp7jBWD0awEsEAzAPjgDWj69JoXZlY3x7k8IiSXE1llKx-_A4IDGMS8zoALYAjPf1d6Y7WvptK955UTjIFyy1RESfSj4EgxM2IdKO/s200/6a00e54ef4f3768834013482809a41970c-320wi.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<div class="western">
<em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: normal;">And
Dear Holy-Whoever out there, I pray and beg you, to not make the
world any smaller. This is too weird for me to handle!</span></span></em><br />
<em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></em></div>
<div class="western">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"> </span></em><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;">But
may be not as weird as holding your own Mother's bulky uterus I
guess.</span></span></em></span></div>
<div class="western">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"> </span></em><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Now
how often do you actually get to see the womb you were born in?. So I
couldnt get more excited when I had to play the dutiful child,
helping with Amma's Hysterectomy.</span></span></em></span></div>
<div class="western">
<em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">No.....
I chickened out when the doctor called for us to hand over the neatly
chopped out uterus . Though people who saw it told me it looked as
big as me when I was born :P</span></span></span></em></div>
<div class="western">
<em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But
the whole experience was sweet! Taking care of Amma was like taking
care of an over-grown baby. Helping her walk, bathe , pee...... dress
her up, feed her, put her to sleep every night with lullabies.....</span></span></span></em></div>
<div class="western">
<em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To
wake up alarmed in the middle of the night every time she coughed in
her sleep, or when she tried turning over to the other side.....</span></span></span></em></div>
<div class="western">
<em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Im
really glad I could be there to just do all that for her. I miss
smelling her cheek whenever she grinned at me!</span></span></span></em></div>
<div class="western">
<em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
miss the smell of my home ... the smell of ploughing in the nearby
field...that balanced blend of cow-dung and earth …thats one damn
sweet smell that brought tears of happy memories and got me all
nostalgic! I had completely let myself out in that delicious aroma,
when she 'purr'ed and brushed her ear against my ankle.</span></span></span></em><br />
<em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></em></div>
<div class="western">
<em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>'Chingaari'</b>
--my neighbour's cat. She is a constant Pregger! I cant recall the
days when I saw her not carrying. She's loaded , all the time. Now ,
Im not very cat-friendly, but this sweetheart here has managed well
to win me over.</span></span></span></em><br />
<em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></em></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNoSArqu6FjHepfPhjRNgkqSbyligpBkIaImx07UsuYl746Pm8iP8Yax-bQV3BWpXSMCrop8XdvYYUHhG3J9oaxEN4m0Vo9GPa0iApj3f7XAsK2fdhAXnUyBpbgRAyXJaPAR8l0hzsLAS7/s1600/pregnantcat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNoSArqu6FjHepfPhjRNgkqSbyligpBkIaImx07UsuYl746Pm8iP8Yax-bQV3BWpXSMCrop8XdvYYUHhG3J9oaxEN4m0Vo9GPa0iApj3f7XAsK2fdhAXnUyBpbgRAyXJaPAR8l0hzsLAS7/s1600/pregnantcat.jpg" /></span></a></div>
<div class="western">
<em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></em></div>
<div class="western">
<em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The
only sad thing about her getting pregnant is that, she fails to
protect her new-borns, mostly. The kittens are killed and eaten up by
a wild cat every time. I never get to see her babies. They are
murdered, even before they can open their eyes. Poor Chingaari runs
around the house crying and mourning; worse, lactating.
And my heart goes out to that helpless mother every time!</span></span></span></em></div>
<div class="western">
<em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></em></div>
<div class="western">
<em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But
this time I helped her keep a watch on her babies! And touch-wood,
all her three kittens are still alive. And they all look just like
her, beautiful black and white fur balls!</span></span></span></em></div>
<div class="western">
<em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Have you heard of this age old belief that if a cat litters in your house, it will bring
you good news!?!</span></span></span></em></div>
<div class="western">
<em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></em></div>
<div class="western">
<em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Last
time Chingaari littered and her kittens survived, my sister got
engaged!</span></span></span></em></div>
<div class="western">
<em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And
guess whats the good news this time?</span></span></span></em></div>
<div class="western">
<em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">No
prizes for guessing, Im gonna be an Aunt! :D</span></span></span></em></div>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
</div>
The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-44581166273112808242011-08-26T05:28:00.015+05:302011-08-26T12:53:44.166+05:30First Blog award!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="western"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwS2tgSC4VEc5w0uwVeNM_GSnYUILKb4SVv7FAaQMRODKyrIXbafN5V1SRS5pXtVttN3r8JtlASHxBmT_H0zNreh1svDnrtNSU0fnNAKSw9V5fyyzXksJiA0HgctVI13BhoBhDhX75DrAy/s1600/versatile_blogger_award.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwS2tgSC4VEc5w0uwVeNM_GSnYUILKb4SVv7FAaQMRODKyrIXbafN5V1SRS5pXtVttN3r8JtlASHxBmT_H0zNreh1svDnrtNSU0fnNAKSw9V5fyyzXksJiA0HgctVI13BhoBhDhX75DrAy/s200/versatile_blogger_award.jpg" width="200" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;">This is way too early. I have a blog, but I also know that having a blog doesnt make me a writer... I ramble.... I cant </span></span></i><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>write </b></span></span></i><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;">…. at least not yet!</span></span></i></span></div><div class="western"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;">But it was very sweet of <b><a href="http://divyathemostuseful.blogspot.com/">Spaceman spiff</a> </b>to think I have the potential</span></span></i></div><div class="western"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;">So Im just going to quietly follow the drill and be done with... and perhaps pass on the award to some bloggers who I think really <b>CAN</b> write. :)</span></span></i></div><div class="western"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"></span></i></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Now for the usual tradition</span></span></i></span></i></div><br />
<li style="display: inline ! important;"><div class="western" style="display: inline ! important;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>#</b> Link back the person who gave you the award.---- check!! </span></span></i></span></i></span></i></div></li><br />
<br />
<i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><b>( P.S : Thankyou... Its a Really Nice Birthday Gift!)</b></span></i></span></i></span></i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<li style="display: inline ! important;"></li><br />
<br />
<div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><b># </b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">7 Random things about you (</span></span></i><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><b>This wasnt very easy, I swear)</b></span></i></span><br />
<div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"></span></span><br />
<ol style="text-align: left;"><li><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;">I <b>sit still in my bed and smile</b> .... every morning, at least for an hour. I cant start my day without that bit. </span></span></li>
<span class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;">
<li style="font-style: italic;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>Strings--</b>-- I have a huge crush on plucked instruments-- Acoustic Guitars- Flamenco, Baroque, Harp, Banjo- Oud, Kora, Sitar, Shamisen, Biwa, Ukelele, Balalaika...... the list never ends. Play me something really romantic on any of these, and Im yours........they have such an effect on me.</span></span></i></li>
<li style="font-style: italic;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Im <b>anti-diamonds!</b> I probably would say NO to any guy who might get down on his knee offering me a diamond ring .</span></span></i></li>
<li style="font-style: italic;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;">I love <b>talking to myself and to my imaginary friends when Im in the loo</b>. ( yeah, thats where I play out most of the conversations ---- the ones which I wish I were part of, the ones which I screwed up, the ones I wish would happen in real life........... I know what you're thinking now, but please keep it yourself :P)</span></span></i></li>
<li style="font-style: italic;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;">I <b>shamelessly ogle at babies</b>. One reason why I love <b><a href="http://www.annegeddes.com/Modules/Anne/Galleries/index.aspx">Anne Geddes</a></b>. She makes me wanna get all those babies in a box and keep 'em for myself.( Reminds me of how Spaceman Spiff and I would go to the 0- 3 year old section at every store, and end up smelling, kissing and “awww”ing at cute tiny lil striped baby socks, night pants and dresses, till the people around gave us “ the looks”)</span></span></i></li>
<li style="font-style: italic;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;">I love <b>stationery</b>- newly sharpened pencils, gel pens, rulers, erasers, sharpeners, notepads, calendar books, diaries, pen-holders, paper weights, scrap books................ you know what Im talking about.</span></span></i></li>
<li style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-style: normal;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;">I <b>collect Nat-Geo photographs.</b> I used to have a white board in my hostel room.... with all these pictures pinned up. Now since I have no access to the magazines , I collect them online.</span></span></i></span></i></span></li>
</span></span></ol></div><div><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></span><br />
<div class="western" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>My favourite song: </b>Very very very unfair question! But I dont wanna break rules here... so here's one song Im quite popular for.</span></span></i></span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></span></i></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/YEcX9gNVg1U?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>My favourite dessert :</b> Death by chocolate , Chocolate souffle, Molten chocolate cake, …. basically anything just chocolate would do! But the caramal pudding I had with <b><a href="http://arunjohnwrites.blogspot.com/">AJ</a> </b>at Casa Piccola was orgasmic!</span></span></i></span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></span></i></span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>What pisses me off :</b> I just cannot think of any!.....I'll let you all know when I have one!.</span></span></i></span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></span></i></span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>Biggest fear:</b> A cage........... being a prisoner of my own mind................NO I take that back.......my biggest fear would be not being able to Love.</span></span></i></span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></span></i></span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>Best Feature: </b> A friend who was once opening the car's door for me, looks down and holds sight of my ugly ass feet, makes a really sad expression..... and looks up to say it on my face. But ends up saying.. </span></span></i> </span></span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;">“ </span></i><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Wow... you have ( stammers.... and finally blurts out)…...you have really beautiful eyes”!!</span></span></i></span></span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;">So <b>EYES </b>it is! ( 'cause I still, clearly remember the look on his face)</span></span></i></span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></span></i></span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>Everyday attitude</b>: To find awesomeness and happiness in every single thing around me</span></span></i></span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></span></i></span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>What is perfection</b>: </span></span></i><i class="western"><span style="color: #330000;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Perfect is never doing anything wrong - which means never doing anything at all. Perfect is boring!</span></span></i><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> </span></span></i> </span></span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #330000; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></span></i></span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>Guilty pleasure:</b> Cheese balls : I think Im addicted to it. I find it really hard to stop munching on them. I love everything about it--- The bland taste of the cheese, the crunchiness of the corn grits and even the stale smell of it :P </span></span></i> </span></span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></span></i></span></span></div><div class="western"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"></span></span></span></i></span></span></div><div class="western"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>#Give the award away to 15 other bloggers--- Check</b></span></span></i></span></span></i></span></span></div><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></i></span></span><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i class="western" style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"></span></span></i></span></span></i></span><br />
<div class="western" style="display: inline ! important;"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i class="western" style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;">In random order</span></span></i></span></span></i></span></span></i></span></div><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></i></span><br />
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b># <a href="http://zebra-talk.blogspot.com/">Zeba</a></b>- She's one blogger whose words have made way it into my small notebook . </span></span></i> </span></span></i></span></div><div class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"># </span><b style="font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.justkalpana.com/">Just Kalpana</a></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">- If I were a book publisher, I would sign a deal with her.. for a comic book series called </span><b>“Stumped”</b></span></i></span></i></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>#<a href="http://nathisms.wordpress.com/">Thomas theCat</a></b>- I spent one whole night reading every single post in his blog. He's got a piquant sense of humour..........Im sure you'll like him. </span></span></i></span></i></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>#<a href="http://visionsandperceptions.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-am-villain.html">VnP</a></b>- I think he's a really good writer, If only he blogged more often ( perhaps full-time writers need other pass-time activities)</span></span></i></span></i></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;">#<a href="http://toddlerscribbles.wordpress.com/"><b>Toddler scribbles-</b></a> That's no toddler-scribbling . Read her , and you'll know why</span></span></i></span></i></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"># <a href="http://lilyferus.blogspot.com/"><b>Lilyferus</b></a>- Im really really glad that I got to know her! She's a nut case and I just love her for all the brilliant madness that she is!</span></span></i></span></i></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"># <b><a href="http://www.hariprasad.in/">Keep Smiling</a></b>- He is just like the name of his blog.. .. all smiles!.. And an infectious one that too . He's got this amazing talent of spreading those smiles as well.</span></span></i></span></i></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;">#<b><a href="http://abluelotussaid.blogspot.com/"> Blue Lotus</a></b>,<b><a href="http://cloudninetalks.blogspot.com/">Cloud Nine</a></b> and <b><a href="http://lafemmenirvana.blogspot.com/">Nirvana</a></b>: Im new to their blogs....and now I regret I couldnt get to them earlier!.</span></span></i></span></i></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"># <b><a href="http://arunjohnwrites.blogspot.com/">Hey you</a></b>, <b><a href="http://divyathemostuseful.blogspot.com/">Spaceman Spiff</a></b>, <b><a href="http://shruthisadda.blogspot.com/">Full-Adda Diddi</a></b>.- uhhh...... errr...........hmm... There are no words that can describe you guys!.... Instead I'll give you all a bear hug!!</span></span></i></span></i></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"># <b><a href="http://priyankavictor.blogspot.com/">Chocoholic</a></b>, and <b><a href="http://anuglyhead.blogspot.com/">Red handed</a></b> :You've become like family now....:) I get worried if I dont get to read a new post of yours every week.</span></span></i></span></i></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></span></i></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><i class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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</div></div></div></div></div>The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-28191397153081905742011-08-21T23:57:00.002+05:302011-08-22T19:57:17.140+05:30EAR MILK<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="western" style="line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i><b>Background Note:</b></i></span></em><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> </span></span></em><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i>Introducing a dear friend, </i></span></em><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i><b>VnP ( Visions and Perceptions)</b></i></span></em><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i>, who took sweet pains to turn an otherwise boring birthday of mine into rather a memorable one. </i></span></em> </span></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i>I hadnt moved an inch from my bed that day and I was almost positive that </i></span></em><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i><b>Im in a relationship</b></i></span></em><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i> with my mattress and pillows , when he calls up and says, “ Im not happy with what Im writing. So how about I just give you a list of songs I like, and may be catch up over dinner tonite?”</i></span></em></span></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i>So I quickly take a cold shower, which I thought might slap me awake from my 'comfortably numb' state. </i></span></em> </span></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>We ended up in TGIF and over the first half we spent there, he kept telling me that I was lost!</i></span></em></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i>And I kept telling myself,.......Gosh, Im getting old! </i></span></em> </span></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>We decided we wont order for the dessert. We are so stuffed already!</i></span></em></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i>That thought had hardly passed when the service lads of TGIF comes to our table with a delicious looking chocolate cake and a CHAIR!. </i></span></em> </span></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i>And what happened next must have been a very good laugh for everyone else in the restaurant . 'Cause I was dancing on that chair to a Birthday song I've never ever heard in my life with all the waiters singing and clapping around me. </i></span></em><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i><b>( Apparently thats the TGIF tradition!)</b></i></span></em></span></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><i>Thank you VnP! Perhaps another day, I 'll get back to you for that! </i></span></em> </span></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>You can find much of his sensible, hilarious and very very creative writings , ramblings and character sketches <a href="http://theincoming.blogspot.com/">here</a> , <a href="http://icanimagine.wordpress.com/2011/05/22/an-undeterred-criminal-mastermind-part-i/"><span id="goog_2062709862"></span>here <span id="goog_2062709863"></span></a>and <a href="http://visionsandperceptions.blogspot.com/2009/12/purple-sweater-pink-shorts-and-near.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+VisionsAndPerceptions+%28Visions+and+Perceptions%29">here.</a></i></span></em></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>So heres his choice of songs for now. I like all of it already. Hope you all like 'em too.!!</i></span></em></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></span></em></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><i>--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</i></span></span></em></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></span></em></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal;"><b>Foals - Blue Blood</b></span></span></span></div><div><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><b><br />
</b></span></span></div><div><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;">Beautiful vocals. Peaceful guitar. And it all picks up gently to a nice crescendo. And lets you fall from there slowly. You will probably go back to this song for its opening.</span></span><br />
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</span></em></div><div><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><b>Foster the People - Pumped Up Kicks</b></span></span></div><div><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><b><br />
</b></span></span></div><div><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;">Another Indie band, but these guys have made it pretty big. The song is smooth with a very catchy chorus and the whistling bit in between just nails the song.</span></span></div><div><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><br />
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</i></span></div><div><div><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><b>(Yes, they've been Vevo-ed. That means they are going up the commercial charts.)</b></span></em></div><div><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><br />
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</span></em></div><div><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><b>Charlotte Gainsborough - Trick Pony</b></span></span></div><div><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><b><br />
</b></span></span></div><div><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;">The Myntra ad had this amazing amazing track. Just when we were thinking it was an original, comes Charlotte Gainsborough with Trick Pony. Her album IRM is a brilliant mesh of electronic sounds, heavy percussion that also includes some unconventional Indian bits. But for now, Trick Pony.</span></span></div><div><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://3.gvt0.com/vi/U7gDM0_C70s/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/U7gDM0_C70s&fs=1&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/U7gDM0_C70s&fs=1&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><i><br />
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</span></em></div><div><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><b>Gotye - Somebody that I Used to Know (Feat. Kimbra)</b></span></span></div><div><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><b><br />
</b></span></span></div><div><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;">Last year I discovered Heart's a Mess, and Gotye does it again with this song. Eclectic sounds, beautiful arrangement and that quintessential Gotye vocals. Give it a listen on good speakers or headphones. The chorus is again really really lilting. And wait for Kimbra to arrive with her bit.</span></span></div><div><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><br />
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</span></em></div><div><div><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><b>Junip - To the Grain</b></span></span></div><div><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></em></div><div><span class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;">In all this <b>Junip</b> has to be the find of the month. Amazing vocals from Jose Gonzales. Beautiful sounds layered with synths, acoustic guitar and that voice that will just set your heart going. The live version of Junip's To The Grain shows how beautiful their music is inherently, unlike bands like Weatherwanes who sounded really terrible live.</span></span></div><div><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><br />
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</span></em></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/FmLFJOvWGw0?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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</span></em></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: black; font-style: normal; line-height: normal;">-- </span></span></em><em class="western"><span style="color: #111111;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: black; font-style: normal; line-height: normal;"><span style="color: #888888;">Gopi</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: black; font-style: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></span></em></span><br />
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</span></div></div>The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-19336407277295763412011-08-14T17:02:00.011+05:302011-08-14T17:28:02.268+05:30Im a girl .... and Im an emotional creature!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It was just a few years back I discovered that tears,....................... tears can liberate you!</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It took me 19 years of my life to cry ….....My folks back home still tell people of my heroic childhood stories, of how I wouldnt even wince, if I got myself cut, or If Im hurt while playing. My knees or fingers would bleed, but I'd wipe it off with my skirt and get myself upto the next mischief.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">For me, crying or being emotional in <i><b>any</b></i> way until a couple of years back was synonym to being weak! </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">And I always wanted to be brave. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Now as I look back, I see what a coward I was to hide and hoard all my true emotions . I ran way from them rather than expressing, confronting or owning them.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It took 19 years for the floodgates to open and unleash the wrath within.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I cried that day without a break for an hour and a half <b><i>( no exaggerations here)</i></b> and that too in a public forum with tonnes of young people staring at me.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Reason?? I cant remember …..........I know, its all the denying of being emotional, refusing to <b>'feel'</b> and the suppressing of <b>'feeling</b>' that got me there.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The reason didn't matter anyways. What mattered was that the heavy and iniquitous ice berg of piled up emotions had started melting. What mattered was the process ---- the purgative effect . What mattered even more was that this breaking down, thereby had shaped me into a much braver person. And what mattered most was that I had discovered the 'girl' in me.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">I love being the 'girl' now. And this is for all those who loves being in touch with the 'girl' in them.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbCzPVDVU2TpkivFoQWkTTjIOLsRl6-VChe7X86Rj8b2an4p69wxwUGUgm8Tm-kzXoFeNCr5TaZ_CPcGup0ZnNO7DoOQC4YJQCBgM6vwiTrmhqh360Eb1SxLT50lqoZ0QG6BJn7I0EwYK/s1600/feeling+emotional.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbCzPVDVU2TpkivFoQWkTTjIOLsRl6-VChe7X86Rj8b2an4p69wxwUGUgm8Tm-kzXoFeNCr5TaZ_CPcGup0ZnNO7DoOQC4YJQCBgM6vwiTrmhqh360Eb1SxLT50lqoZ0QG6BJn7I0EwYK/s320/feeling+emotional.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>***I AM AN EMOTIONAL CREATURE</b></span></span></strong><b> </b> </span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love being a girl.</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I can feel what you're feeling</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">as you're feeling it inside</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the feeling</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">before.</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I am an emotional creature.</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Things do not come to me</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">as intellectual theories or hard-shaped ideas.</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They pulse through my organs and legs</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and burn up my ears.</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know when your girlfriend's really pissed off</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">even though she appears to give you what</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">you want.</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know when a storm is coming.</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I can feel the invisible stirrings in the air.</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I can tell you he won't call back.</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's a vibe I share.</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; font-style: normal; line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0.15in; orphans: 2; padding-bottom: 0in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in; padding-top: 0in; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am an emotional creature.<br />
I love that I do not take things lightly.<br />
Everything is intense to me.<br />
The way I walk in the street.<br />
The way my mother wakes me up.<br />
The way I hear bad news.<br />
The way it's unbearable when I lose.</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; font-style: normal; line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0.15in; orphans: 2; padding-bottom: 0in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in; padding-top: 0in; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am an emotional creature.<br />
I am connected to everything and everyone.<br />
I was born like that.<br />
Don't you dare say all negative that it's a<br />
teenage thing<br />
or it's only only because I'm a girl.<br />
These feelings make me better.<br />
They make me ready.<br />
They make me present.<br />
They make me strong.</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; font-style: normal; line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0.15in; orphans: 2; padding-bottom: 0in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in; padding-top: 0in; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am an emotional creature.<br />
There is a particular way of knowing.<br />
It's like the older women somehow forgot.<br />
I rejoice that it's still in my body.</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; font-style: normal; line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0.15in; orphans: 2; padding-bottom: 0in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in; padding-top: 0in; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know when the coconut's about to fall.<br />
I know that we've pushed the earth too far.<br />
I know my father isn't coming back.<br />
That no one's prepared for the fire.<br />
I know that lipstick means<br />
more than show.<br />
I know that boys feel super-insecure<br />
and so-called terrorists are made, not born.<br />
I know that one kiss can take<br />
away all my decision-making ability<br />
and sometimes, you know, it should.</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; font-style: normal; line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0.15in; orphans: 2; padding-bottom: 0in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in; padding-top: 0in; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is not extreme.<br />
It's a girl thing.<br />
What we would all be<br />
if the big door inside us flew open.<br />
Don't tell me not to cry.<br />
To calm it down<br />
Not to be so extreme<br />
To be reasonable.<br />
I am an emotional creature.<br />
It's how the earth got made.<br />
How the wind continues to pollinate.<br />
You don't tell the Atlantic ocean<br />
to behave.</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; font-style: normal; line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0.15in; orphans: 2; padding-bottom: 0in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in; padding-top: 0in; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am an emotional creature.<br />
Why would you want to shut me down<br />
or turn me off?<br />
I am your remaining memory.<br />
I am connecting you to your source.<br />
Nothing's been diluted.<br />
Nothing's leaked out.<br />
I can take you back.</span></div><div align="CENTER" class="western" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0.15in; orphans: 2; padding-bottom: 0in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in; padding-top: 0in; widows: 2;"><div style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love that I can feel the inside<br />
of the feelings in you,<br />
even if it stops my life<br />
even if it hurts too much<br />
or takes me off track<br />
even if it breaks my heart.<br />
It makes me responsible.<br />
I am an emotional<br />
I am an emotional, devotional,<br />
incandotional, creature.<br />
And I love, hear me,<br />
love love love<br />
being a girl.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; text-align: left;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; text-align: left;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: black;"></span></div><div align="LEFT" class="western" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; line-height: 0.21in; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; padding-bottom: 0in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in; padding-top: 0in; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"> <span style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: italic;">***By<b> Eve Ensler</b>, a playwright and activist, is the founder of V-Day and author of '<b>Vagina Monologues'</b>. And this is an excerpt from </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Arial Narrow', sans-serif;"><i> </i> <b>I Am an Emotional Creature : The Secret Lives of Girls Around the World</b></span></span></span></div></div></div></div>The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-12828383852315860632011-08-09T01:45:00.001+05:302011-08-09T11:53:07.728+05:30Its called Patience<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><b>Disclaimer: Hard-core Ranting.................. I wouldnt mind it if you moved on without reading</b></i></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I am committed life long, to a philosophy of 'love-all'. Yeah, I never had to try .It just comes to me.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">And its not in my nature to dislike people. </div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">But lately I have realised that there some people Im beginning to not-so-like very much.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">It has taken some real hard work on your part to earn that, people!!</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">So here are the <b>fabulous four</b> who has made it to the top:</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b># 'Im All-Important' </b></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">These kinds ARE important, they KNOW that they are important, and the part that I dislike about them is that they love to inject their importance on others.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">The interesting thing is that they are intelligent enough not to come across as boastful or boisterous. They are the ones who have cleverly mastered the art of what I call 'subtle-extortion'.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">They bully you and make you feel cheap and good-for-nothing in the most dignified manner.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">You tend to have a strange sort of respect for the<b style="font-style: italic;"> shadow of authority</b> they cast upon you, but you also want to curse them, for the <b><i>Dementorial effect </i></b>they have on you.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Yes, these people are capable of sucking the happiness out of even a <b>Patronus Charm.</b></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">These power hungry ones are happy as long as you're feeding their ego. And don't you dare get tired of it, otherwise you're counting at some really bad days.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><i>Dear 'Nota Bene', Its nice to be important. But I think its more important to be nice</i>.</b></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b># 'Im in awe of you'</b></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Im afraid to say this, but you guys are a nuisance. Im sorry if my charisma is that overpowering and overwhelming, theres nothing much I can do about that. It doesnt feel all that good when you try to drool me in your <i>uber-nonsensical-flattery.</i> And its not-so great, to keep hearing <b><i>“ ohh, you're so cool”</i></b> every 10 secs in a 5 minute conversation. And it shouldn't bother you, what diet I follow , or what I sleep in, and what color my nail-paints are!!!!</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">So if Im too polite to shoo you away , you'll take advantage of my niceness??</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">You're lonely, I get it. </div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">So, heres a piece of advice for you.............</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><i>Dear 'Awe-full', If you can't enjoy your own company, atleast don't inflict it on others.</i></b></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b># “I always want to help”</b></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Im a girl, agreed, but I don't need you all the time. I would like to do some things on my own.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Yes, I know the world is bad, and there are scary vultures waiting to devour on me raw, but honestly, I feel much safer when Im alone.!</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I appreciate all the efforts you have taken , all the ways you have went out of, to make things smoother and easier for me. But trust me when I say this, all of your '<b><i>creative intervention' </i></b>( read <b style="font-style: italic;">interference</b>) has only messed up my life. It shouldn't offend you when I refuse your help next time around, because I have learnt to ask or receive only from '<b><i>the givers of a higher level</i></b>'. Who would not make me feel like a debtor.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">But if you're thinking this a good way to woo me , by hammering down such unwanted concern and unnecessary care , then<b><i> Dear 'Helpful', you're much mistaken.</i></b></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b># I am always right</b></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">They studied the right thing, they are working at the right place, they are getting the right sum and got married at the right time to the right person.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">These people are the only ones apparently, who are leading the most successful life. Rest of us are losers!</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">They have made the most intelligent decisions in life, and rest of us are about to doom because we studied literature and now wants to make documentary films.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><i>“Archiving traditional art forms?? Whats the use ??Such a waste of time and money!”</i></b> <i>( I should ask your mother if she thinks of you the same way, now that you've grown up )</i></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><i>“Not married?? You will grow up into a frustrated grumpy old woman”</i></b> <i>( Getting married to someone like you would be suicide, I prefer being the grumpy grandmother, Thankyou!)</i></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">It doesnt matter to them, if you are the first woman from India to win a Green Oscar , because at the end of the day you are not<i><b> them</b></i>. They are themselves the benchmark of being <b>'successful'</b>.And that means you are not a success in life unless you have an MNC job in a metropolitan city, and a non working spouse with a professional degree who came with a dowry almost as worth as one of those treasure chests uncovered at the Padmanabhapuram Temple, and finally two A+ scoring kids studying in the most expensive CBSE school in the town.</span></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><i>Dear 'Always Right', Please get back to me on how dirty my door carpet is, when you have cleaned up the mess in your own backyard!</i></b></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Dear Reader,</b></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">If you have sat through this post till here, please allow me to let you know that I am blissfully blind to flaws and imperfections in most cases. Please judge this only as a momentary venting out of some pent up feelings. Otherwise I am extremely tolerant with all of the above '<b>dear-ones'</b> usually. After all, its my fervid conviction to try and put up with all those who wants to put me down. And I believe that is what you call patience.</div></div>The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-27415159670478133912011-07-31T22:23:00.005+05:302011-08-01T13:52:02.456+05:30Many moons ago.......<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">It was many moons ago..... when I thought, I could sing. </div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Now I think I can only enjoy music, and that singing is gone and forgotten.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 150%;">If anybody asked me </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial,sans-serif;">these days</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 150%;">, "Do you sing?" , I'd tell them......... "I used to."</span></div><div class="western">There was a time when everyone would , not even ask but just state, that “I will need someone musically inclined ( read singer, musician)to live with”</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Fortunately or unfortunately nobody bothers now ….. all what bothers them now, is that Im aging and not getting married.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I had always thought of music as my religion, my spiritual journey, where I could unfold myself , seek answers to my questions. The journey which would fulfill my passion and purpose of living.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">And my faith in that journey lied in those very few moments, when my dad would smile blissfully everytime I sang to him, when my mom would play the recordings of my radio shows in the kitchen all day long, when my teacher's eyes welled up as I sang my favourite <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ashtapadi">Ashtapadi </a>to her.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">And gradually crept in those moments too when I lost faith in that very journey.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">The same path which estranged me instead of liberating.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Those moments of arrant incertitude and shock as I witnessed the very people I worshipped fall into the mad and filthy race of the 'so-called divine art called music. '</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I was torn. And thats one wound which has left a very bad scar. </div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSX65oEB9eEubQJ7hoqOoBz0gs_nkt2IxpR2nQMwQV7PLEDDnSuqw_sjPEHh4inFDnZk1bHFXOevfFHKbYCLnrnH9grlLlgsTpDbi6nB07AHJk712bFf0auBp1kIYOIBgyZmCmNpD_sM5i/s1600/tanpura2_srivatsa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSX65oEB9eEubQJ7hoqOoBz0gs_nkt2IxpR2nQMwQV7PLEDDnSuqw_sjPEHh4inFDnZk1bHFXOevfFHKbYCLnrnH9grlLlgsTpDbi6nB07AHJk712bFf0auBp1kIYOIBgyZmCmNpD_sM5i/s320/tanpura2_srivatsa.jpg" width="212" /></a>And it was not many years ago that I realised I have lost touch with singing. </div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I would cry when my voice cracked up, everytime a note came out wrong. Or when I couldnt recall what raaga a particular kriti was composed in. </div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I had become an alien at my own forte.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I couldnt breathe in my own world?. </div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I didnt know where I belonged to anymore. </div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">There have been days when I'd decided to go back and search for my lost self , and one such morning I found that I have lost my book of kritis. My heart sank. And in that assailable moment it could only indicate that 'Music was dead and buried..... once and for all.... for good.' </div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I knew it was going to be that rotten noxious feeling which I would have to carry all my life.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I tried to live with that harsh truth that I wouldnt be able to sing like before ever again.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">But now there is a reason why I am even able to write about this.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Because I sang yesterday.............</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">It still felt terrible. Dreadful. </div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I poured down mugs and mugs of water on my face to escape from tasting the bitter saltiness of my tears.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">After an hour as I came out of the loo, I saw my land lady standing outside. She said, she had been standing there for quite sometime, and asked me If I were trained in music. </div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I looked at her rather sadly as I hung my towel on the cloth-line, gasped and said “<b>for fourteen frickin' years!!!”</b></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I came inside still wet and shivering, and sat down on my bed to watch my thoughts. And it suddenly struck me that I just sang past that huge block. </div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">It took me a while to believe it was real.And I was pretty convinced then, that I would be able to do it again. I somehow felt like a floating swan, feeling light.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">My thoughts flew to that dear friend who told me the other day <b>“Birds cant fly; if you cant sing”</b>.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">And all I could do was …...........Smile!<b> :)</b></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">P.S : Thankyou. And I cant wait to delete that one sad line in my bio.Its my fervid conviction.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div></div>The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-75817139845781587512011-07-23T02:01:00.020+05:302011-07-25T11:17:40.865+05:30Aappandi!!!!!!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-US">One and a half years...... and I was there and back again!</span></div><span lang="EN-US">The place which changed me and grew me </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-US">The place that tortured and loved me at the same time</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-US">The place that gave me wings and kept me rooted......</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-US">I held my breath in delectable exhilaration when the bus passed through the longest flyover in Shamshabad. I could see the whole city from up there. I even thought I caught a glimpse of the fort of Golconda.</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-US">Not much had changed. No lush carpet of greenery or overbearing trees.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-US">Its all the very old rock boulders and skyscrapers. </span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="height: 318px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; width: 413px;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-3yiJy1Hp4e_mYkwoEsCj_SbneFSY-of2i3B2gizQt46l5kKYtEuDi5Y_lHwU_aMht58l0YpLMLxKO-H1L8hPvUXpppMewIDd7pkTXPZJ9sYdmDmM5BY30kilIvs-lkhgWiEzo3IYDhbp/s1600/DSC02355.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-3yiJy1Hp4e_mYkwoEsCj_SbneFSY-of2i3B2gizQt46l5kKYtEuDi5Y_lHwU_aMht58l0YpLMLxKO-H1L8hPvUXpppMewIDd7pkTXPZJ9sYdmDmM5BY30kilIvs-lkhgWiEzo3IYDhbp/s400/DSC02355.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mushroom Rock at the University Campus</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span lang="EN-US">Except most of the glass edifices had safety nets on it, which pretty much reminded and explained everything about the agitation in the city. Days are close when one would have to say “ I studied at the University of Telangana”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-US">Otherwise everything else was just the same.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-US">The loathsome chlorinated hard-water said 'welcome home'. And the bumpy share autos took me around that home.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><i><span lang="EN-US">Naam , Namak Aur Nishaan </span></i><span lang="EN-US">written at the gates to Sainikpuri... ..never had noticed that before, perhaps new. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQmdXAplSdtGVCYz6_bUzTYqXlAWKJMtCHqY-3C5Nk427DL0CjNKRz4h7eN1hKq4Itkso5AeY8OitfPaaHjNTbTbofkLTOlhgBFzfZ9XV8UmfiaKDwm1_GbmSl2ZbsI8xseuRTD3Nj72Iv/s1600/DSC02887.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQmdXAplSdtGVCYz6_bUzTYqXlAWKJMtCHqY-3C5Nk427DL0CjNKRz4h7eN1hKq4Itkso5AeY8OitfPaaHjNTbTbofkLTOlhgBFzfZ9XV8UmfiaKDwm1_GbmSl2ZbsI8xseuRTD3Nj72Iv/s200/DSC02887.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Calvin Nambiar on a sunday afternoon</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-US">My niece has grown taller. But shes still the giggling bundle of cuteness, who likes to try on my Kajal stick and Livon Hair potion.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
<span lang="EN-US">Theres a new addition to the Nambiar family – Goofy Nambiar. Calvin and Winnie Nambiar likes the new company Im sure. It was nice meeting you all.</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
<br />
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<span lang="EN-US">Radhettan, at the shopcom, who still dint even ask for the order, and with his infectious smile gave us our share of gopi bonda and chai.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA3Pv_07pW18q5EFu3BOP2uY3ZN66IdVRAop3Sbhyphenhyphens5ke1VjHKHM50d1eKgyn_AEoNr0O-xxglYBDNJoCcMTBQR5iD1blu4LONcqM5FFc_2PFi2-0_juQNZr0hBHiIYGMyNSJteghDSJV7/s1600/DSC01975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA3Pv_07pW18q5EFu3BOP2uY3ZN66IdVRAop3Sbhyphenhyphens5ke1VjHKHM50d1eKgyn_AEoNr0O-xxglYBDNJoCcMTBQR5iD1blu4LONcqM5FFc_2PFi2-0_juQNZr0hBHiIYGMyNSJteghDSJV7/s200/DSC01975.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An old pic outside Radhettan's shop </td></tr>
</tbody></table><span lang="EN-US">It felt good to be back,character-gazing with my Sattwick friend. There were all sorts.</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-US">Met some old faces, and spotted the psuedos, the survivors, the intellectuals, the industrious, the love birds, the leaders........</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-US"><b style="background-color: #a64d79; color: black;"><a href="http://perfectmelancholyy.blogspot.com/2011/07/blog-post.html">Miss perfect melancholy</a></b> has become prettier. Her room still smells of microbe-repellants and Tao physics . That was the best Qubaani ka Meetha I had with her over a lot of catching up. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-US">I jumped with joy at the sight of my old ladybird cycle. She is still pink in health and is not missing me much.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLnQ3Jd44HBL8mVEMwkunPbIWDpbSEiN2tybGwMJOKPzTDgByvvhmLN88Z8MCq8frA8bVnEg2Z6qHyJjU3m18rZxK7jzhABiHszbx_w3Kc0wSc3okC_p0SwUpsRbu-deYEr0wmBEAi3Uis/s1600/DSC01236.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLnQ3Jd44HBL8mVEMwkunPbIWDpbSEiN2tybGwMJOKPzTDgByvvhmLN88Z8MCq8frA8bVnEg2Z6qHyJjU3m18rZxK7jzhABiHszbx_w3Kc0wSc3okC_p0SwUpsRbu-deYEr0wmBEAi3Uis/s320/DSC01236.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Birthday Circle</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span lang="EN-US">Was walking again through the Birthday circle with<span style="color: #4c1130;"> </span><b style="background-color: #c27ba0; color: black;"><a href="http://basicallythejobless.blogspot.com/">Mr Jobless</a></b><span style="color: #741b47;"> </span>and<span style="background-color: #c27ba0; color: #4c1130;"> </span><b style="background-color: #c27ba0;"><a href="http://frivolousmaturity.blogspot.com/" style="color: black;">Frivolous Maturity</a></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-US">And we were back to being students again, and got drenched in the nostalgic mizzle.</span><br />
<span><span style="background-color: white;"></span></span><br />
Crept into the children's park and stole a ride on the swings.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-US">Laughed at each other's jokes, caught up on each other's life.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
<span lang="EN-US">And sighed with so much relief and gratitude that our good old friends have not changed much. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-US">And worshiped and thanked life again for being so impeccably beautiful.</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-US">The morning I reached Bangalore, as I was getting to work, I told the auto-driver “ <b><i>ikkada left theeskondi</i></b>”( Take a left here, please <b>In Telugu</b><i>). </i>Telugu??? I forgot whatever Broken Kannada I knew in just a weekend?? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-US">And that moment laughed at me and said out loud <b><i>“ Aappandi!!!”</i> </b>( STOoooooP)<i> .</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-US">'Stop for a while and take this in !'</span></div></div>The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-22530419530842339382011-07-08T12:47:00.002+05:302011-07-08T13:00:16.447+05:30I got tagged !!I didn't know what tagging in the blog-sphere was, until <b><a href="http://divyathemostuseful.blogspot.com/2011/06/tag-time.html" style="color: #4c1130;">this cute dynamite</a></b> tagged me.<br />
So here it goes........<br />
<ol style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Without sharing your name, who are you?</b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Quite an ordinary girl with some extraordinary dreams. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Born in Dubai,Grew in Kerala, </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Got hardened in Hyderabad, and softened back in Bangalore.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Learned from everywhere, and squandered it all over.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A quirky nut case ( atleast I would like to believe so) , </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A Patronus charm ( atleast some say so)</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Hates being compelled or confined. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Loves being pampered and petted. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">By training a dumb noetic, by practice a daring dreamer </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">and by experience a deadly doofus.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">( du-uh!!..... so? I love alliterations)</div><ol start="2" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Describe yourself in less than five words. </b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Refer to about me!</div><ol start="3" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Do you have any special talents? What? </b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I think I have too many to chose from. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">But lately I discovered I have a special talent to motivate people. (One friend thinks Im an incurable optimist .Not called a Patronus charm for nothing , you see? Another wants me to be his therapist, and yet another is seriously considering me for a full time job of a motivator, at the agency he works.)</div><ol start="4" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Are there any talents you wish you had? What? </b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Yup, I wish I could do astral travel . Or even Transfiguration</div><ol start="5" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>What are your most important interests? What do you like about them? </b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Music</b> - <i>feeds my soul</i></div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Books</b> - <i>my best companion</i></div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Travel</b> - <i>everytime I travel , I read another page of the from the book called ' world' and its astonishing.</i></div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Food</b> -<i> lets quote <b><a href="http://arunjohnwrites.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-coffee-house-everybody-coffee-house.html">a friend here</a></b></i><i> and say “palatal orgasm” </i></div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Flowers</b> –<i> Beauty , that spreads fragrance and happiness to everyone around</i></div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Babies</b> - <i> frolicking cheerful babies make my day</i></div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">All the above are equally capable of transforming me into a different being </div><ol start="6" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>What is your opinion of Lady Gaga? </b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A twisted genius. </div><ol start="7" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>If you could go anywhere right this second, where would you go? </b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Jammu, I miss my friend <b><a href="http://frivolousmaturity.blogspot.com/2009/04/inaugural-post.html" style="color: #4c1130;">Shringeri</a><span style="color: #4c1130;"> </span></b><i><b>( Shingi, I wanna visit Vaishno devi, celebrate Lohri, learn Dogri and see all of Jammu with you)</b></i></div><ol start="8" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>What are your favorite foods for breakfast, lunch, and dinner? </b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Favourite is the question : </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I would love some Warm waffles with maple syrup or Banana pancakes or sweet porridge with honey or toast and sausages for Breakfast <i><b>( Told ya I was a dreamer!!! I try and manage with some wheat flakes and warm milk for now)</b></i></div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">For lunch: I wouldnt mind some honey fried potatoes, methi malai matar and dal palak with roti/ rice .</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><b>( But I get decent mini meals at poornima restaurant … not too bad actually. )</b></i></div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">For dinner: Tossed Salad with french dressing, schnitzel steak with mushroom sauce, and mashed potatoes. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><b>( Otherwise I cook every night with the limited facilities I have in my PG and try and admire the food Im eating)</b></i></div><ol start="9" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Do you have siblings? Talk about them; if not, talk about being an only child. </b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I have an elder sister, whose physical, spiritual, mental and cultural attributes are exactly opposite to that of mine. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">She's a Phd scholar<i><b>( quite proud of her that way)</b></i> and lives in Baroda, married to a really sweet scientist who is doing his post doctoral research in Japan. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">She is a lot more on the fuller side with a long nose and long hair. More rooted in her culture, and has less troubles with her conscience.</div><ol start="10" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Do you like sports? What teams do you support? </b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Not really. I enjoy figure skating and rhythmic gymnastics more than any other sport. And if I had to choose I would have chosen tennis ( I loved Pete Sampras, now I adore Roger Federer)</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">But maybe just for <b><a href="http://icanimagine.wordpress.com/" style="color: #4c1130;">this friend's sake,</a></b> I would say I like Football and I root for Liverpool. :P</div><ol start="11" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Do you have any tattoos? If not, would you ever get one? </b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">No I dont . I have more than enough black moles to make up for it :P</div><ol start="12" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Have you ever donated blood? Why or why not? </b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">No. Im not even sure what my blood group is. <i><b>( being born to a lab technician, thats quite a shame!!)</b></i></div><ol start="13" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>How do you like your coffee and/or tea? </b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Tea: Black, with clove, ginger, Tulsi leaves crushed and a drop of lemon in it and of course heaps of sugar.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Coffee: Strong decoction , with cream and sugar.</div><ol start="14" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Are you left- or right-handed? </b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Right-handed , but I wanna be ambidextrous :)</div><ol start="15" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>If you’re in college, what are you studying? If not, what did/what are you planning to study? </b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Out of college Studied mass communication with Spaceman Spiff here who tagged me. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">But I would like to study Natural History film making at Salford University/ Otago Univeristy some day soon. <i><b>( wasnt too bad at science communication and video production when I was at the university)</b></i></div><ol start="16" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>What are some of your short-term goals? </b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I have a list of 12 books, which I aim to finish reading by this year end.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Buy a camera . Cant afford to miss <b style="color: #4c1130;"><a href="http://fervidconvictions.blogspot.com/2011/06/lost-moments.html">any more moments.</a></b></div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Hit 52 kg, which I think should be my ideal weight :P</div><ol start="17" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>What kind of music do you like?</b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Sufi gives me access to heavens .Ghazals make falling in love irresistible. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Country and folk fills me with joy </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Classical transcends me into a different world, fascinating yet intimidating</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I very much enjoy Bollywood, Pop, Lounge, Soft rock, and sometimes metal and psychedellic trance too.</div><ol start="18" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live? </b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Any place where I can built my dream home. Preferably some place where I can get a view of the mountains from my bedroom balcony and watch the brook flowing from the kitchen. I can only think of Ireland now. More about which you can find<b style="color: #4c1130;"><a href="http://fervidconvictions.blogspot.com/2011/05/this-chapter-of-my-life-is-called.html"> here</a>.</b></div><ol start="19" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Have you ever been overseas? Where and when?</b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Was born overseas. Dubai, U A E. Lived in Karama till I was 10 yrs old.</div><ol start="20" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Have you ever been to the circus? What did you think at the time? </b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Yes. I was quite tiny then. But I thought the animals were really stinky. And the clown was lame.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">But I was terrified by the magician and the trapeze artists.</div><ol start="21" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Are you wearing shoes right now? If so, describe them. If not, describe your socks/feet. </b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">None of the above. I am wearing Grey leg warmers.</div><ol start="22" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>List some things you’d like to do before you die. </b></div></li>
</ol><ul><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Carry a Koala on my hip and feed it with my hands.</div></li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Kiss a Dolphin</div></li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Ride a Bullock Cart</div></li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Drink Bamboo beer at Siliguri </div></li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Visit the Tiger temple in Tibet </div></li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Wish upon a comet </div></li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Learn to play the Kora</div></li>
</ul><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">This list never ends......... </div><ol start="23" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>What do you prefer to write with; pencil, pen, crayon, Sharpie, lipstick, chalk, etc?</b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Pencil anytime.!!</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">But lately I have also been wanting to write with an ink pen . I miss those Hero pens I had used in my junior classes to write copy. The whole idea of filling ink in the pen from the round bottle, makes me wanna grab a fresh parchment and scribble down …....” How do I love thee...............</div><ol start="24" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Do you like movies? What are your favorites? </b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Im a movie buff. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">From world cinema to animation , I like all kinds for different reasons.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">For a very outdated and short list of movies, you can view my profile.</div><ol start="25" style="color: #4c1130;"><li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Do you like chocolate? What’s your favorite kind? If not, WHY. </b></div></li>
</ol><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I get high on the cakes which you get to dip in the chocolate fountain.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Apart from that. <b>Twix</b> <i>( reminds me of my Dad),</i> <b>Quality street </b><i>( good old DUBAI days)</i></div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Snickers</b> ( breaks with Arun at Iridium, Hyderabad). <b>Bounty </b>( me and my sis used to fight over it)</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">But if I would like to be a choclate , I would be Ferrerro Rocher. Soft and silky delicious in the inside and crisp and nutty on the outside. :)</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I hope I did well on my first tag. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">And I tag <b style="color: #4c1130;"><a href="http://frivolousmaturity.blogspot.com/">Miss frivolous maturity</a></b>, <b><a href="http://basicallythejobless.blogspot.com/" style="color: #4c1130;">Mr Jobless</a><span style="color: #4c1130;">, </span></b>and <b style="color: #4c1130;"><a href="http://icanimagine.wordpress.com/">I can imagine</a></b></div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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</div>The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-53364592687479868752011-07-04T13:22:00.004+05:302011-08-01T14:35:44.931+05:30They just left it unsaid...........<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">They were different. Different from others and different from each other. </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">He was industrious, orderly, strict, respected…........err predictable?. But she could see right through him. </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">She knew when he was timid, shy, and confused. She alone saw the caterpillar in him waiting to transfigure into a butterfly and fly away. And her very presence gave him wings. It was as if he chose to shed his pride and all the airs he carried, only in front of her.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">She was everything he was not. She was warm, wild, fun, free, knew how to laugh, and never planned anything beyond a day. </div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><i>“</i></b><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><i>I like to live my life messy, that way I'd atleast know Im living”</i></b> she had said once to him, when he was busy taunting her for being impulsive.</span></span></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> </span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">That day he could hardly take his eyes off her. </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">He watched her chasing the flying ducks with no cares about how muddy her trench coat got; how she turned back and smiled at every little child she met on her way,and how that any kind of flower that grew on the pavement brought sparkles into her eyes. He watched as her wavy hair bumped and bounced back and forth, and for a moment he wished to be that breeze which played with her soft and delightful strands of hair.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">He wanted to wipe off the cream from her lips, as she sucked on her ice candy</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">He wanted to smell her neck as she drifted away at the sight of a rainbow.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><b>“</b></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><i><b>Here's a woman”</b></i>, he thought <i><b>“ hazardously addictive!!”</b></i></span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">They were always together; not a day has passed by without them meeting.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">He would wait every morning at the creek side and walk her to their favorite cafe for breakfast. </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">She would laugh. And would make him laugh too. Laugh truly. </div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><b>“ </b></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><i><b>Your smile doesn't reach your eyes mate, whats your problem in life”</b></i>, those were the very first words she spoke to him when they met for the first time.</span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">He had beautiful, soft eyes. It always glinted even behind his round glasses. And a lot of people had told him before that the first thing they ever noticed about him was his eyes. </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">But this was the first time someone told him , that his eyes couldn't smile.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">And since then, his eyes never failed to smile.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">One would expect them to be in love. Expect them to be a couple. And no one can blame can anyone for thinking that way. </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">For they were always together, giving each other their time and company, sharing not just breakfast but their lives, completing one another........</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1cLpBDQ78Q4C9ilJ9VXaCKXjw6KiY-IO5c0VZpg0VUDGf1dHF5AI5kIz1r8uUiNa-edpffAROj4iTOYdrFTjd9-VQcwrWgequz9RC0oAYR-XzwLyvZkZ7uSxsnPPRHCDFkOqEsO3jNXlh/s1600/holding_hands_shadow-10622.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1cLpBDQ78Q4C9ilJ9VXaCKXjw6KiY-IO5c0VZpg0VUDGf1dHF5AI5kIz1r8uUiNa-edpffAROj4iTOYdrFTjd9-VQcwrWgequz9RC0oAYR-XzwLyvZkZ7uSxsnPPRHCDFkOqEsO3jNXlh/s320/holding_hands_shadow-10622.jpg" width="320" /></a><i><b>“</b></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><i><b>We dont even hold hands, we are not lovers, dearie”</b></i>, he heard her telling her best friend as they scuttled out of the library. </span></span> </div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><b>“</b></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><i><b>But you held my hand through everything”</b></i> he thought, as he buried himself inside his computer, and opened a new tab.</span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Today, they were at the same creek, watching the river flow by, and a family of ducks swimming in line. </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">They've done this quite a few times. They would just sit there silently. Enjoying the silence-- ---and that was the best conversation they used to have.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">She had stretched back and raised herself up on her elbows, crossed legs and cradled her feet in rhythm. He sat a few steps away from her, tensed and pulled grass from every corner his fingers could stretch up to.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><b>“</b></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><i><b>Are you okay? Why are you angry at the grass?”</b></i> she noticed like always.</span></span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">He gasped and broke into a laugh, bit his lips and then managed to say it . <i><b>“ I am getting engaged.”. </b></i></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Her cradling feet lost its rhythm, all of a sudden. It slowed down and eventually stopped.. She sat up and looked down for a while. She pulled a few blades of grass herself. </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">There was a silence. A long, loud silence. The one silence they both didn't enjoy.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">And then she finally turned to him with the widest smile ever and said, <i><b>“Wow, Congratulations!”</b></i></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">He turned to look at her , leaned forward to place his hand on hers and said <i><b>“ Don't smile so much, those tears in your eyes might just spill over” </b></i></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">She laughed at this so hard, that it tumbled down endlessly. It was like her eyes had given up on fighting them back, like they couldn't hold them anymore.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">They knew it then. They knew for sure. But they never said it. And now they never will......</div></div>The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-25206591589676605952011-06-24T14:36:00.000+05:302011-06-24T14:36:43.148+05:30The Same Mistake!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> <br />
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> I couldn't believe when I woke up that it was a dream. Because I was so sure that it was real!!</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> As soon as I jumped out of my bed, it came onto me that this was going to haunt me all my life........ </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> <br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> It grew on me like an infection and now it has become that tiny splinter at the back of my head that pricks me in the most unguarded moments, driving me mad............ And I wrench my teeth in pain.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> <br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> Then theres my stupid mind that is still holding onto those wild dreams, like its life depended on it. In a desperate attempt to stay aboard, it threatens reason with questions that would hurt my ego. </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> <br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> And I hated it ….. the very thought of having to put them on the scales to see which was lighter?</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> For I knew what I want is too heavy to carry. </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> So should I bend?, so that I dont break??</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> I felt like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neo_%28The_Matrix%29">Neo in Matrix</a> . I was having nightmares of losing Trinity. I could see her falling............only falling, but. And I cannot see beyond. Only if I knew what I could do about it......</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> And James Blunt sings in the background</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<i><b>Give me reason, but dont give me choice. 'Cause I just might make the same mistake again.”</b></i></div></div>The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-64760999304601048842011-06-20T12:20:00.013+05:302011-06-21T11:12:07.173+05:30The Complete Man....!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I had always wondered what makes a man complete. </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">If one has to go by the Raymonds ad, then the complete man would walk in with an appointment order of a high profile job in Singapore and then later on would surprise his mother by bringing out two air tickets instead of one and eventually celebrate the whole episode by dancing with her, twirling her in happiness. </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Or he can also be the unpredictable romantic, who plays an old 80's hindi song and grabs his bashful wife and sweeps her feet off as they break into a tango, at a gathering bringing laughter to everyone around as well. The picture becomes perfect and complete as a cute boy runs to the couple and our man picks him up playing the most affectionate Dad.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Raymonds has always been successful in painting pictures of such complete men -- The complete son, the complete husband....... I love those ads, but it always got me pondering why these men never did anything different. I havent seen Raymonds' complete men, cooking, or cleaning or fixing broken things?</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">My complete man is a super human being at times.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">An amazing cook, with a commendable palate. A skilled photographer whose favourite subjects were his beautiful wife's long luscious hair and his two lil babies' drooling and gaping faces. A self taught flautist, keyboard player, and tablist. A man with green fingers who is very proud of his produce. Someone who does not believe that cleaning and washing is meant for women alone; Who doesn't wait for any plumber if the sink is broken, or if the tank needs cleaning. Who can do a decent job than any other carpenter in the town, and takes the patience to actually make cute devices for his wife, like the water-tank alarm, so that she wont forget to turn off the switch when the tank is full!!. This man, who would not want to let off the chance to stitch a saree blouse for his wife, or alter a skirt for his daughter. Someone who had adorned the whole house with his hand-made curtains and cushions. The same love and skill which made me that pillow, which I slept peacefully on all those years in hostel. The same man, who turns into Florence Nightingale, when his wife or daughter falls ill.</span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">This man, who loved to iron his girls' uniforms, and get them ready for school. This man, who had carried me on his shoulder as a baby so that I could see the whole world in a higher perspective, who had carried me every morning from the bed to the bathroom and washed my face for me as a little girl, so that I don't get late for school. This man who would wait for me yet again, to gulp down that last mouthful of porridge, so that I don't get late for college.<i> ( See? not my fault, one doesn't grow up when one has such a super-daddy)</i></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">This is the man who tied my hair almost everyday till I turned10. This is the man, who would do anything to get home from another country , for he had not missed a single birthday of his li'l girl.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">This is the man , whose eyes would well up with tears, for one day it suddenly dawns upon him that his child has grown up.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Here is a man, who can so be the romantic husband in the ad and break into a jig with his wife anytime....... </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Here is a man who can play both the father and the mother even when the situation doesn't demand it...</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Here is what I call a complete man......</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">And here I confess without a pinch of shame for crying hopelessly every time I watched <b>Father of the Bride.</b> </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-1XBPPNZwIIIAPSasiq6iOchqifMTIWWm-1XKv70IvHLw54v7e1Pb_cs0OGLYrGPUDwe5lo5wppjT9Nmwr4sfALLllCNNrF_NLkfLkIjZXl3phVL0YGRYAycmn-3owWWCdPXZFzetn211/s1600/Happy+father%2527s+day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-1XBPPNZwIIIAPSasiq6iOchqifMTIWWm-1XKv70IvHLw54v7e1Pb_cs0OGLYrGPUDwe5lo5wppjT9Nmwr4sfALLllCNNrF_NLkfLkIjZXl3phVL0YGRYAycmn-3owWWCdPXZFzetn211/s320/Happy+father%2527s+day.jpg" width="290" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Oh yes, My Dad is a carbon copy of Steve Martin!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Dearest Dada, </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>#</b> Blame me not for being the incurably ambitious child who aims for the stars. You know you played a good role in inflicting those dreams onto me.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>#</b> Blame me not for being the argument addict at times, you know I inherit that from you <b>:P</b></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>#</b> Blame me not for being your weakness and strength, you know its your effort and love which grew me into such an adorable daughter <b>;)</b></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>#</b> And finally, Blame me for not being able to make up my mind on all those suitors you brought me.<br />
You have set such a high benchmark, that I would be happy, only if someone could be as half a man as you are.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Happy Father's day!!</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Lovingly,</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Your proud Daughter <b>:)</b><br />
<br />
P.S : Blame me not for posting just one side of the versatile whiz-dad that you are.<b>:P </b>You see? I ran out of words. Its like how those fancy cards say <b>" I know, you're good at so many things, but its my fervid conviction that the thing you're best is at being my DAD"</b></div></div>The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-16441869819976111642011-06-15T11:28:00.016+05:302011-07-05T11:40:52.209+05:30Lost Moments ....!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I wish I had a camera for a fifth limb. Yeah, an inseparable entity of my body; it can just hang there around my neck and click all those moments which I want to savor for a lifetime.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">How I wish I had pictures of some moments which would take me back in time.!! </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I had a friend who would always gesture a click whenever he thought a moment was worth capturing, just like Kirsten Dunst in the movie Elizabethtown. Its actually a pretty lame yet cute thing for a guy to be doing , but that was not the point. The point is : <span style="background-color: #9fc5e8;"></span>No documentation of my journey whatsoever. What a shame !! and how pathetic can it get?</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I wouldn't have anything to show my kids and brag about.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I would have nothing to share with the media, one day when I get famous! <b><i>( Now, why did you smile when I said that)</i></b></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Here are a few such moments:</div><ul><li><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">A picture with my favourite brother, at any of those wonderful places we had been to together( More about him and why he tops the list in another post) </div></li>
</ul><ul><li><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">The first prestigious award I ever received. The All India Radio National singing competition. I received the award from the Carnatic Maestro Dr. Balamuralikrishna.</div></li>
<li><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">My first solo classical concert . I cant remember why no one cared to take a picture :(.All those other concerts I did back home, with <a href="http://www.gayatriasokan.info/" style="background-color: #cccccc;">Gayathri</a>, either singing or playing the Thanpura.</div></li>
<li><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">From the time I can remember, I was with the All India Radio- first as a child artist, then as a graded artist. Can you all imagine me from the control room, standing and singing in the studio with those huge squarish microphones and headphones. No? Well, dont you think a picture would have helped??</div></li>
<li><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Then there is that one of a kind documentary I made with my team . A project which has to go to every student film festival without working stills. <b><i>( I wanna cry my guts out over here)</i></b></div></li>
<li><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I was compere for the first ever short film & documentary festival of Thrissur ( VIBGYOR). I was also compere for the first ever International Theatre festival of Kerala ( Itfok). And I dunno how to find that Beijing Theatre group now, who were the only ones who bothered to click some pictures with me.</div></li>
<li><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I won the Kerala State Youth festival for Ashtapadi. But not a single pic of the winner holding that cute <i>Chengila. </i><span style="font-style: normal;"> Not even the next day's newspapers had one. They got a passport size photo of mine from the school to publish. <b>:( </b></span> </div></li>
<li><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">The All Round Achiever Award which was bestowed on me for being the most crazy person in college. Well, my kid would want to know how it came to me, right?? She/he would want to see all those popular legendary characters I had played from Shaw's Eliza Doolittle, Dickens' Ebenezer Scrooge and Swami Chinmayananda, to the drunk landlord, the nagging housewife, the dumb servant and even a convicted rapist!<i> <b>( I wish I knew how I looked in my final Ms. Doolittle outfit)</b></i></div></li>
<li><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Not a single pic from my college tour to Coorg and Mysore.This time I had my fifth limb, but I lost the whole film at the Tibetan Colony, see? Im telling you it's Murphy's law.</div></li>
</ul><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">What more to say?? Does anyone feel like buying me a camera ?? Atleast a point and shoot to start with.??</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><br />
</i> </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i> <b>P.S : I have to thank a dear friend of mine here, <a href="http://www.hariprasad.in/"><span style="background-color: #cccccc;">HRC</span>,</a> for being the spur of this post.</b></i></div></div>The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816490394232424041.post-38649352916248928422011-06-02T12:10:00.004+05:302011-06-02T15:39:41.294+05:30Elegy to a lovely silk saree and Ode to a Horseload of Embarassment<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Now all this of happened, when I was in my hometown on a performance tour with my company. My team left for Bangalore, but I had to stay back for a wedding. (</span><i> I cannot help but give a bit of background of this wedding, though I realise it might stretch this post. But i also believe it might be interesting to know why this wedding was so important , that i stayed back , in spite of being so thoroughly unprepared for it)</i></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">And how could you not go for this wedding?? She is your neighbour and friend. You grew up together. She taught you to climb trees and jump over the walls . You invoked dead spirits with her using that stupid Ohjo board, glass, coin and candle ? You petted her cats; she fed your dog. You were her partner in crime as you both went around, stealing flowers from everybody's garden during Onam. You have celebrated, Pooram, Vishu and even your first menstrual trauma with her and now how can you think of not going to her wedding. So I stay back.!!</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I never got the chance to play the good friendly neighbour. I am not there for the wedding eve festivities. I am not there to take her to the temple, to the parlour, to iron her wedding saree or to arrange her jewellery. Because I am at work.!!All I had in my puny lil head was, per diems, venue deposits, train tickets, show tickets, bills, receipts, files, press releases, MC script and what not.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">But I spent the night before the wedding with her. Squeezed mehendi out into her palms and feet with all my effort and patience, in every creative way possible . My arms, wrists, eyes, back, butt and every other bloody body part hurt; but I dint complain. For this was my only chance to make it up to her. </div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">The mehendi ritual lasted till the elders came in and asked the bride to shut her eyes, so that she does not wake up looking drowsy and sleep deprived on her D day. </span><i>( She wasnt gonna get any sleep, I knew that. I wonder if any bride has slept well , the night before her wedding)</i></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">But I couldn't sleep either;and last time I checked, I wasn't the bride..........wonder why? I had nothing to wear for the wedding, how </span><i><b>could</b></i><span style="font-style: normal;"> I sleep. I kept rummaging the cupboard for clothes, and started pulling out my sister's and mom's sarees. May be I can get one of their sarees to match with a blouse I had. But such things never turn out to be easy, do they?. No wonder why some women plan what they have to wear so much in advance. It would take </span><i><b>them</b></i><span style="font-style: normal;"> a week's vagabondage in the city to decide on their clothes and it would take another week or two to finalise the accessories and footwear. </span><i><b>Them??</b></i><span style="font-style: normal;"> I am one of </span><i><b>them</b></i><span style="font-style: normal;">, ain’t I? </span> </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">And yet, here I am......... fallen, way behind all of that and feeling terribly confused,when my mom walked in and gives me this nasty look.</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">"What the hell do you think you are doing with </span><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>MY</b></span><span style="font-style: normal;"> sarees, young lady? Put em' all back , </span><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>NOW</b></span><span style="font-style: normal;">!!" </span><i>( Oh yes, I forget she's one among </i><i><b>them</b></i><i> too. Very .... I mean VERY possessive about her cute collection of sarees. Plead.....thats the only way out , I told myself).</i></div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">My tired frustrated face suddenly switches in a reflex to the sweet-lost-puppy- face. (</span><i> I can get myself to do that all the time :P)</i></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Next morning, I go to the wedding in my Mom's most </span><i><b>favourite</b></i><span style="font-style: normal;"> magenta silk saree.</span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I was high on compliments-- " oooooh, who's this junior Shobhana??" " Ahhh !So, you've decided to enter the matrimonial market, eh?", all of which I accepted with much poise and grace.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">After lunch , we nudge each other to leave for our homes . We meet the key people and give those usual excuses to squeeze ourselves out of there-- "The dog needs to be fed.", says my Grandma. " This girl is technically still at work and needs to go and settle the bills of last night's show.", says my Mom slyly, dumping all the blame on me. And we all step out to catch an auto, with our caretaker Sarasechi.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Now this where the story <b>actually</b> begins.!</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">We find one auto and rush towards it. And in no time, our three fat ladies stuff themselves inside the auto, the last one to enter being Sarasechi and lo!, now where do I sit??. I tell my mom , that Im gonna take a bus, when my granny pokes her head out and says " you don't go all by yourself now, sit on my lap". Sarasechi volunteers to take a bus instead, when my mom becomes all generous and says " no need for all that, we can all go together"</span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">"It will cost extra!" adds in, the auto-driver.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">And so I sit on Sarasechi's lap . She's nearing 60 , so I made sure to hold my weight. The problem was with my head though, the auto wasn't high enough . So I slouched forward and rested my hands, crossed, for support behind the auto guy's seat.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Our ladies, had started discussing the wedding already, bride's make up, jewellery, boy's height, moustache and what not.....</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">We'd reached half way, when I felt something pulling near my shoulder. I straighten up quickly and to my biggest horror I find that the Meter-box of the auto, has eaten up all of my saree's pallu<b>!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! </b>.........and is still eating... swallowing my saree slowly like how a snake would swallow its prey.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">I shook myself into senses somehow finding it hard to breathe and then cried <b>STOOOOOOOP</b>, and slapped the auto-driver on his shoulder frantically!! He stopped immediately, and turned to see what had happened.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">We often hear of my pallus and duppattas getting caught on the wheels and engines, and im always careful to not leave it unattended, so it was neatly there..... on my lap. </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">But what on earth was this??? The pretty thread hangings on the end of my pallu got lured into the cable-wire somehow, which was running from the Auto Meter down into the engine. And this wire uncovered by an insulation cable, kept rotating as the auto ran. So the pallu also circled along with it, tightening itself on the cable-wire.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">"This has never ever to happened in all these years that i drove this auto", says the driver uncle.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">We all end up in a mess not knowing what to do. The auto uncle tries his best, but the end of the pallu is way inside. Sarasechi gets out and contributes to his effort. They all try but in vain and says that the only way would be to get the other end of the saree and take it around the cable-wire and pull it out. So where's the other end.??</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Im wearing it, Goddammit!!. Its tucked down into my underskirt, thats where it is!. </span> </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">People from nearby houses started peeping out from their windows. And there I was----the damsel in distress, no knight coming for her rescue, to cut the pallu off with his sharp sword and to ride off elegantly. My mom tried to play the part by taking out a small razor blade--- a tiny blade! from her hand bag ready to cut the pallu. </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">But everyone else, including the auto uncle decided against it. Point<b> #1</b> : The pallu is anyways too thick to cut with a blade, as it had wound itself into a really fat bundle! Point<b> #2</b>: Its such a beautiful silk saree!.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">So what does he advise? " I'll pull down the rain curtains for you and step aside, in the mean time you can remove the saree , get the other end , take it around the cable, and pull it out."</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>I was like ,"What??? " No seriously ..... .....WHAT????, unless you all have gone whacko!</i></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">But we had almost spent half an hour on the road by then, trying to save me and my saree. So it was either gonna be this way, or we are stuck here forever.!</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">So I...</span><i>( I say this with a lot of embarrassment that Im trying to grind in between my teeth</i><span style="font-style: normal;">)....I strip !! Strip inside an autorickshaw, parked right on the Shornur highway road. !!</span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Sarasechi quickly takes the saree around the cable-wire and gets almost all of the pallu, but still has to cut open the last bit.!! While I sit covered in my granny's saree pallu, watching all this completely stupefied!!</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">We get the saree out. Im exhausted and I still cant believe what just happened!!! Granny started on her yakkity-yak as usual, " Being a girl, you should've been careful , or else such mishaps are very easy to occur" Mom's gone mum!<i>( thank god for that)</i>. And Sarasechi said , she will walk it from there. The auto uncle comes back and sighs ( phew!) , 'atleast noone got hurt'!, and I look down at my Mom's torn favourite silk saree. </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">We reach home. My mom gets down first and opens the gate wide open! </div><div class="western" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">All the noise wakes my dad up and he comes out </span><i>( why, this is very unlikely, autos usually drop us outside the gate)</i><span style="font-style: normal;">and looks amused to find the auto driving in straight to the porch. </span> </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">Now, just imagine what my dad's reaction would have been when he saw me dashing into the house wearing just the blouse and underskirt, and that too, covered in a <b>TORN</b> saree.!!</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">You know what? If anyone asked me " which was the most embarrassing moment of your life"?, I wouldn't have to guess at all. And Im gonna leave it at that! </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div></div>The Meditating Lionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02811628753109966053noreply@blogger.com0