tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77886305184809079292024-02-08T20:24:16.566+05:30Analyse ThisMy blog is just a bundle of random thoughts and says very clearly how I use my head or heart and on rare occasions..both.....Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger139125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-28584633654407795412016-03-29T17:08:00.000+05:302016-03-29T17:08:13.318+05:30Like a river in rains<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<u><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like a river in rains </span></span></u></h2>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My emotions twist and turn and
sometimes simmer<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On other occasions they simply boil
over<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They peep from moist eyes<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometimes they hide in the shiver
of the voice<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Often I feel them in my throat<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At times in my stomach lurching
with every spoken word<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They hide behind the stories I keep
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They threaten to embarrass me in
crowded rooms<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They at times bulldoze my audience <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And then there are days when they
wait <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To pounce on me while I go about my
business<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Catching me unprepared <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A laugh unworthy of the joke<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A gripping anxiety that fights
against courage<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A joy that seems to burst at the
seams<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A tear drop that falls untimely and
without a ceremony to go with it<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My head quietly watches the drama<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Laughs at the comedy going on<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have a strange suspicion<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It must be all the conversations I never
had with myself<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I pace and give myself time<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To just be<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To just be me<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-28996597472608570772015-12-06T23:35:00.000+05:302015-12-06T23:35:28.187+05:30A Planet and a comet<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
You - were a planet to me<br />
Breaking my speed, my gait, my trail,<br />
Involuntarily you drew me in<br />
I burned on shivering nights and foggy mornings<br />
So different are we<br />
Two strangers<br />
We don't know the other<br />
And yet the intimacy of what you do to me<br />
Pulling me in<br />
I circle around<br />
Doomed to collapse eventually<br />
Your mild touch and a look<br />
Your carefree attention<br />
You turn my attention like<br />
sunflowers slowly turning to face the sun<br />
You turn me in..to you<br />
A shared laugh<br />
My tension with your proximity<br />
This may be a dream<br />
And I will wake up<br />
And continue to be the comet that I am<br />
And you will remain the planet that I passed by<br />
Unwatched by the world<br />
But you will know & So will I<br />
That I passed you by<br />
And burned you too in my wake</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-59210388533866369942015-07-27T08:31:00.001+05:302015-07-27T08:31:16.407+05:30Your intimate body<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
There are so many things that occupy us... and by occupy, I mean live inside us. They travel in our minds and explore our senses. A book for one is one such thing. It sleeps close to your hand and watches you intently when you sigh while reading it. A thought that stays in your mind and traverses the nooks and corners that it lights up ... or darkens. A feeling that enters you from your ears or your eyes or your luscious mouth and decides it wants to stay a while and know you better. A sorrow that enters your bones and weakens them. So intimate is our life with things such as these. Guests that stay whether you like it or not. A silence that whispers in your ears all day while you continue dealing with the mundane ordinary things - the driving to work, buying groceries. You continue to watch your self - a host to many things. And this goes on... for a long time. And then one day it is time for you to leave and these guests that stayed a little and made room for other new things to enter you would leave in a rush... the last departing guests will leave you with your breath and a sigh. And just like that you will be gone and the hotel that your body was will be empty.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-53870278229710563462014-10-28T14:47:00.001+05:302014-10-28T14:47:33.408+05:30Power Trips<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I have a relatively flat learning curve. I am comparing myself to my own vision of myself as a intelligent superior more evolved person. But there are moments when I am amazed at my own behaviour and the way I handle certain situations. I was recently bullied into doing something that I did not want to do. Was I scared to submit? No. Was I afraid of not being liked for saying no? No way, I got rid of that one some time ago. Shouldn't I have been ripping mad that some F**kwit was trying to threaten me with his influence. Normally that's my usual first reaction. Outrage. Not fear but outrage.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">So I did feel outraged. Yes I did want pull this guys entire teeth out of his mouth without anaesthesia.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I know - gross!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">But what I am surprised with is that my anger was quickly replaced by my rational brain that was guiding my tongue. I told the chap to take a hike. Told him he is most welcome to carry out his threat. It would be very amusing. This changed his attitude. The tone changed. I made fun of him, laughed and joked about him being crazy to use undue influence. I don't like the fact that I agreed to do what he was asking. My ego took a beating a little bit and this voice in my head says you caved. But I know that this person was taken aback by my challenge. Had he simply requested in the first place I would've done the needful. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Lesson for him - you don't have to threaten people when a simple please does the job.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Lesson for me - Learn to bully the bully and they automatically learn some manners.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I am proud of the fact that I didn't get my rage get the better of me. This could've turned out very differently. But this was good practice for next time when someone comes threatening or throwing their weight around.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-24844361582231899002014-09-18T18:15:00.001+05:302014-09-18T18:15:17.716+05:30My Little Selfish Self<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The thing about fears is that they can take you on a jolly good ride and you wont even know you are on it. Pessimists are miserable people for they let their fears take over and predict next ten years of doom with complete confidence.<br />
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I have been an ass I realise. <br />
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Life will never turn out as worse as I imagine it to be. On the contrary some of my past fears appear so stupid. But then I have forgiven myself for being lost once in a while.<br />
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People change when the change brings them comfort or when they feel loved for the change they bring in themselves. At the bottom of it all, we remain utterly selfish in our needs, desires and wants. Love, money, attention, time, praise - I would want everything. And what will I not give to be perceived in a certain manner.<br />
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Such an utterly mundane and selfish existence - this - mine!<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-55657134400971684542012-09-17T17:19:00.000+05:302012-09-17T17:19:52.017+05:30The Death Of Free Spirit<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
What once stood tall and proud <br />
Stands low hugging the ground that found its roots<br />
The sun no longer its friend<br />
Replaced by a deep darkness that envelops it<br />
It was free spirit that was grounded to a pulp<br />
It stood hunched <br />
on a street corner <br />
much like a beggar who nobody sees<br />
unless they bump into him<br />
who said you have to break bones to break a man<br />
just squash everything he stands for<br />
kill every objective that made him proud<br />
bind him to watch the drama that unfolds <br />
force him to keep quiet and be weighed down <br />
by the words that did not escape his lips<br />
force him to understand fear<br />
not fear of god <br />
of evil<br />
of treachery combined with power<br />
force him to acknowledge the power of evil <br />
power of small everyday fallacies<br />
power of little injustices carried out everyday<br />
Make him watch the suffering of others<br />
make him look the other way<br />
and then watch the spark die in his eyes<br />
watch how his shoulders stoop<br />
watch how how the spring disappears from his step<br />
enjoy his fall<br />
enjoy the power in you <br />
the power to kill in a man all that he stands for<br />
and then if your power permits you to remember before its too late-<br />
Remember - what goes around comes around</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-24860089782739452762012-09-13T11:30:00.000+05:302012-09-13T11:30:41.439+05:30MY CHANGING LIFE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I am caught up in the whirlwind of changes... sweeping changes. the ones that are mostly irreversible. For the sucker that I am for the steady unchanging boring life ... i have on my plate the exact opposite. I am aware that I am in transition and like that silly kid who is running after fireflies in the darkened garden, I run in all directions and pause every now and then in wonder and amazement at the sparks I witness. The realization that these moments are fleeting is what makes this exciting.</span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Decision making is a lonely process. If its not lonely then the decision was not yours. I have made up my mind and started on a road and every now and then self doubt creeps up like that ugly man on the train station whom you didn't notice until he moved towards you looking you straight in the eye and a crooked grin. And you think... he is laughing at you. Well ... even he thinks you are stupid.... and then sanity recovers itself and wears its robe once again to cover the nakedness of doubt and moves on like nothing happened and all of this was just a figment of my imagination.</span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Every now and then I meet people who have stood with me at some cross road or the other and we've taken different roads. A small pang of regret often surprises me. Which brings me back to the road I've chosen and I tell myself, they too have chosen their own roads and are walking down those roads. I dislike taking decisions that bring consequences I wasn't prepared for. But then you can plan all you want however when the big guy up there gets bored he likes to watch you squirm in your seat thinking what the hell was I thinking and how did I end up here.</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-29771753316900699702012-05-31T22:58:00.003+05:302012-05-31T22:58:50.611+05:30Dear G<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Thank you for being there for me. Thank you for listening intently and speaking softly. For listening and making sense of the nonsense that tumbles out of me. For allowing me to struggle and make sense of myself. For letting me bring things into focus. For letting me paint all the colors I have. For tell me of my shifts. For connecting with each shift. For putting us as equals. For patiently and graciously accepting the difference in our views. For just being this person who knows how to deal with everything. For letting me paint some parts of you that may or may not be there. <br />
I hope I can be there for you too.<br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-53147734427061932722011-10-23T13:57:00.002+05:302011-10-23T14:05:53.536+05:30This Girl I Knew<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I am looking for a bit of myself</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The One that got lost along the way</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The girl who had wonder in her eyes</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And faith in her heart</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Who trusted easily and forgave quickly</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">She could cry when hurt</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Got scared quite often</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">She carried her childhood along</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">She didn't stay angry with herself</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I didn't listen to her much</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And admonished her often</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I didn't value her much and didn't hide this either</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">She could write beautiful poetry</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">She made me feel better when she wrote</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">She stayed up nights with me when I was low</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">She could travel easily between her head and her heart</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Her feelings were a riot of bright and dark colors</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Her face showed what she felt</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">She was often lonely</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">But she was loved by those who knew her</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">She wrote when alone and she wrote beautifully</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">She was also gullible this girl I knew</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And awfully sweet</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">To her the world was new everyday</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I am so sorry that I let her go</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And I look for her everyday.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-67160846467833361602011-08-28T00:55:00.004+05:302011-08-28T01:20:08.031+05:30India and Its Fabric<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Strange are the ways of the lord... I have seen so much grief, treachery, corruption that it is enough to make one hate. Hate the system, the people who run it and ask God why does he allow the loot. All the problems that India faces today are stories of neglect - Dalits, Muslims, Tribals, people from north-east, naxals are all the step children of the Indian government. I agree when the family is large, a few kids are bound to feel neglected but don't allow it to become chronic. And that's why God made hero's and he sends them at the right time. He sends selfless people who serve others for the sake of serving others and whose reward is the satisfaction they get from helping others. He sends officers who are incorruptible, he allows people like kiran bedi, arvind kejriwal, medha patkar, teetsa setalvad, anna hazare, aruna roy and many more. He sends government servants like Officer sanjeev bhat, justice hegde, manmohan singh. When our collective patience was wearing thin, he sent an idea through a frail man who refused food for twelve days. </span>
<br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The lok sabha today debated the jan lokpal bill. The speeches of our esteemed elected representatives were worth listening to. I am sure they were aware the eyes and the ears of an entire nation were on them. Where ever this goes from here, I am immensely happy. Happy to know that this government has had to shrug its aristocratic arrogance and bow down to the will of the common man. The euphoria in the air is contagious. The happiness reminds me of the night we won the world cup. No matter how much others and we ourselves criticise us and our way of functioning, I am confident that very few nations can achieve what we did today with peace and harmony. We made an elephant pass through a key hole. We did. And that's why I will sleep with a smile on my lips. I am today immensely proud as an Indian. when we are bad, we are very bad but when good happens its a burst of energy. This country of mine is woven today in a fabric that I like. My hair stand on ends when I hear the national anthem. There are many things that are not right but as a nation we are taking the right steps. Almost none of these steps have been easy but we are still on the road and the journey will be long and hard both. But I am a happy Indian today.</span>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-2906861945395013212011-08-22T00:02:00.003+05:302011-08-22T00:25:57.984+05:30Bestfriends And Lovers<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">There are boyfriends, then there are lovers, some we call partners, husbands, better halves so on and so forth. </span>
<br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I believe that a lover turned husband is very different from best friend turned husband. You don't create sparks they happen if they have to. With the best friend the jars for trust, understanding are already full when the relationship changes to legally wedded partners. You already know so much about the other. A lover on the other hand may or may not become a best friend. Its good if he does but then again its fine if he doesn't. Everybody doesn't fit into all costumes. That's why married folks still have friends that they continue to confide into with out the fear that it may hurt the relationship or the fear of being judged. I think it may in fact be very healthy to have friendships that are outside the marriage. Sometimes our friends may give us a perspective which we accept wholeheartedly while we may have rejected it had our partner said the same. Its like .. after a while we don't listen to our mothers while they are trying to drive good sense into us... leading to "I told you so".</span>
<br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I may be romantic with my lover but not my best friend and what happens when its the same person. Well in that case, there is a newness to the relationship and I will look at that person in new light and he will find me different too. Our expectations from the same person will change and then one may realise that someone is a great friend but not a great partner. Then you end up losing the friend and not getting the partner you wanted. I believe that our fears are different in each relationship we value. </span>
<br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Somehow I feel that friends should be friends and lovers should be lovers and mixing the two should be avoided. Keep life simple ...silly!</span>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-90010697091191340382011-05-22T23:53:00.002+05:302011-05-23T00:05:51.820+05:30Restless BeastA restlessness rises and decides to stay<br />moving from one thought to next<br />seeking something that it cant define<br />eager to be satisfied<br />it remains empty hollow<br />the mist of rain outside<br />the hum of the air conditioner<br />the crowds on the streets<br />a cloudy evening by the lake<br />the silence evaporated with the crowds<br />two worlds<br />a silent canvas of clouds water and blue night skies<br />a screaming sweltering bustling thumping beast of the city<br />living like twins<br />together and apart<br />i am alive<br />aware<br />sensing seeking searchingUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-7493297297531790802011-03-24T17:11:00.004+05:302011-03-24T17:19:41.438+05:30To Madness<p>Sometimes insanity is not so bad. Its good for the mind to scrub itself once in a while. Traffic jams make you appreciate shortcuts that you pick up to escape the chaos. Incoherent thoughts are not so incoherent. The chatter of the mind has a pattern. Listen. Close your eyes. You've been talking to yourself for a while now .. haven't you. And then your conscious mind is constantly trying to avoid the ears from hearing what you are whispering to yourself in your sleep.... Hahahahahahah</p><p>But now that you are mad. You are free! What exuberance... like that twinkle in the eye of the mad man seconds before he leaps from the window. Free like a bird to .. to... to... to what? No no .. don't listen. This is not the time to think... Because you've destroyed rational thought. You've convinced yourself that thinking is one of the most dangerous of pass times. Insanity is the answer to freedom and a life without expectations.</p><p>:) I am free now that I am mad.... hahahahhahaha!</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-14620840997936265262011-02-27T20:02:00.003+05:302011-02-27T20:22:40.038+05:30Love-ly Turmoil<span style="font-family:verdana;">I feel many things at many levels. I feel withdrawn unto myself and am with me. Not alone. I am with me. Aware of the tide of feelings that course through. Aware of pain and fear. Aware of confusion. In touch with the sequence of events unfurling before me. Bracing myself for the worst. Damn Capricornian traits! Always preparing for the worst and hoping for the opposite. I am a Capricorn girl. A mountain goat. I know I can be pretty head strong when I make up my mind. I dislike confusion. But then, don't we all. I don't even like the fact that I have used seven "I's" in six sentences. Tch Tch! </span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">At times every things seems to be in slow motion. This is one of those times. Something big is happening and my mind has slowed down ... for what... soften the blow! Ha! The mind is up to its own tricks!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">You know I am babbling! Usually I babble when I can't find the courage to say what I should be saying! Ha! More nervous laughter! I am now laying a trap!... for me!!!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Bottom line.... I am sacred shitless of the fact that what I want may come true and then my mind will convince itself that I am right again in not wanting it anymore! you know ... the shifting goal theory and all!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">The thing is... how do you stop the chattering mind to be able to hear that gentlest of whispers that come from your heart! Listen to it! And I am trying!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">How hard is it to look yourself in the mirror and not lie to yourself! And I tell myself... do it dammit! You are made of sterner stuff! Go on.. leap!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Like I said... I am feeling many things at many levels! </span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">So lets change the subject... </span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">... so tell me... what is love? How do you know that you love someone? Do people change when they are in love? Can you fall out of love? Can you love someone even if they cause you pain? When should you walk away? What should make you stay? How do you love yourself? </span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">I keep coming back to my original thought... Love is the most selfish emotion of all. But in a good way! </span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">When we say I love you... isn't it also about our need to say it rather than the other's need to hear it! Don't we feel better when we have someone to love. Forget that crap about being socially acceptable and all the stuff about being single stigma as in ...say... Bridget Jones Diary, etc etc. There is a vast population that wants to be in a relationship ... with anybody... they don't want to be single and that's all that matters. But we are talking here deep stuff... a real relationship. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">I have seen the form of love change... from romantic love to something a lot more deeper, understated and firm. But I also feel depths of aloofness at times. And at that time I hear nothing from behind my left lung! Not even a whisper. Its that which scares me. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">.... So now I am done! Are you?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-16435581921768964142011-01-15T21:34:00.002+05:302011-01-15T21:53:37.133+05:30And the Question Is...I learnt something new. I know I like to question things. Why they are the way they are. Sometimes that leads to doubt ....confusion. I am not talking about stars, moon, highways, food inflation or such. Most often it starts with a feeling... Mostly I don't care when I am happy but when I am sad and don't know why, I think.<br />I learnt everybody is not okay with that. Everybody doesn't like to think about things that seem to have no upfront answers.<br />We want our world to make sense and we want the truth to be convenient. The latter is very important to most people. When its not, we invent it. We lie to ourselves. We lie to others. Anything, but the truth or the confusion that surrounds it when we can't arrive at it.<br />We don't like it when someone wears their feelings on their sleeve. We don't want to know what ails the person next to us. We desire to hear good things. When we don't have answers to their questions, we tell them that they think too much. Alternatively, when we meet someone who "seems" to have their immediate world sorted out... we are very impressed. Impressed that they ask no stupid questions that baffle us and our logic.<br />I often ask myself, what do I want and what will make me happy. And mostly never think in days or weeks. Its just what will make me happy without any time lines. A grilled cheese sandwich with hot coffee would do for now but one year and throughout the year, what will work? Do I want a big car like so and so? Do I want a posh house like that other friend? Do I want a change in career. What will make me happy?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-7593899484111222932010-11-18T12:33:00.003+05:302010-11-18T12:40:51.816+05:30Mumbai NightsI Peeped out of my plane window. Mumbai was enveloped by the night and dark water. The glow of the night lights. Every now and then there cut a diamond studded necklace of roads. The night made it sensual, beautiful, mysterious. God is a man. He looks down and sees a beautiful woman in her finest jewellery. Quiet .... waiting. For that one moment I was not in the plane. My mind was elsewhere, unaware of the immediate reality.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-12913092049382537112010-11-01T16:59:00.004+05:302010-11-01T17:40:57.152+05:30The Light Inside My New Home<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I first spent three years complaining that my apartment doesn't have a view, that I don't see the sky from my window, that I can see other people's breakfast from my living room, that there were too many noisy kids around, that there was improper (read nil) ventilation and a lot more than just this. A new job got me into a new house (I am stubborn about such things, so its not home ... not yet). It has a view... At night I can see a beautiful curve in the road with a lone street light.... it can be very poetic at night, In daylight, I can see some hills, I can see lots of flora, I can see a fistful of sky and then some more, and a lot of fresh air. So technically, I have what I asked for. But I found out that when friends and family asked, how is the new place, do you like it? My response was a sullen - Bloody Expensive. I didn't say anything else. Nothing about how beautifully furnished the house is, how the locality is really cool, that there is a lovely park at two mins walking distance, that the shopping arcade is not too far, that it is double the size of my last apartment.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Jesus! Whats wrong with me!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I spent some time alone yesterday (a first in the new house) and realised my own pattern, how negative I was. Just noticed that the house has more to offer than what I choose to see. The light is really great. These are things that are important to me and they are all there. And then ofcourse there is the expensive bit.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">So what made me think that I will have the most perfect house. Most times perfect things don't happen to people. Thats life!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-79406947801941949452010-10-20T12:41:00.003+05:302010-10-20T13:09:51.076+05:30The world from my key holeSo which surface should I write from. The surface that lives in this immediate world of contact. The one that answers questions, travels for work, deals with people and issues. Or should I write from that depth where I watch things, absorb them, respond to them without expression, where time is not bound by the watch and where feelings and thoughts have a Storm brewing between them.<br />I live in both layers at the same time. After all we are multi tasking operating systems and that is the default setting. We can do many things at the same time, assess different things simultaneously and respond to various things around us. I am no different.<br />There are days when I feel I am alone in a boat in the ocean and there is no help around. There are days when I am astonished, scared, anxious, dead all in one day.<br />Why does it take so long to simply write that life in big cities can be very lonely. You are always alone and unfortunately surrounded by people you will probably never meet again. All you see is strangers. Even the task of going to the mall for a movie is scary. The elevators and escalators are over crowded, you won't find a place to sit in the food court, going to the beach is also a community activity, the whole city is out of their homes on the weekend. The only solitude is in the loo.<br />How can I be so irritated over such a long period of time. I realise it doesn't take much for me to get angry and I mean reaction giving angry. Like this last weekend when I saw this poor girl with a tray of food walking all over the place and not finding a single table. I called out to her and invited her to sit with me as most chairs at my table were empty. Or this other time when I saw a man lying on the road and not a single vehicle stopped to call for help and that includes me. I didn't stop. I feel guilty.<br />I am not a big city person I think and I live in a very big urban center of India.<br />No point day dreaming. I am here and what can I do about it. You know how they say - If you don't like it, change it. If you can't, accept it.<br />I just tell myself that this too is part of the strange ceremony of being a grownup. Too bad. Deal with it.<br />Nothing is final and this too shall change. I just have to keep my head above the water for now. Just survive and when there is help and more strength, things ca be changed.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-37201930685647748312010-09-20T19:48:00.003+05:302010-09-20T20:51:06.950+05:30Another Circle Around My Mind Space<div style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;">There are a few words that are playing in my head like an endless infinite loop. They are from the very famous ad campaign from mastercard. <span style="font-style: italic;">There are some things money can't buy, for everything else there is mastercard.</span><br /><br />Today I reflect that indeed there are some things money can never buy. But that's not the end of it. There are some feelings that words can't express, there are some thoughts that mind can't read. There is some beauty that can't be captured in any medium. There are so many things that we think and feel and know at a level that we ourselves take a while to welcome them into our conscious mind. Its true - what the mind can believe, it can achieve.<br /><br />You know something, I can sit here and bullshit all I want but I know I am hiding behind this intelligent sounding advise which actually everybody knows without my saying it. So here goes (Help me god!).<br /><br />Sometimes I sit really really far away from something that scares me. Hows that for courage. Usually I make such scary thoughts sit in a really dark spot in my head and I make sure the door is locked and I then go about avoiding mirrors or time alone lest they peep out somehow and stare at me. I don't know how they do that. They behave like friends that you have fought with. You know, always lurking in the background knowing they aren't welcome. I usually spend a lot of my time in such stupid running away activities. Sometimes a really big decision is scary as hell. You know those life altering decisions after which you tell others and yourself - Well, I have made my bed so now I have to sleep in it.<br /><br />Truth is my mind is really trying to avoid what my heart has plastered on the wall. So naturally I am in trouble. Nothing new about that.<br /><br />I am the beast that resists change and my life is changing so much right now that I don't know what else to do besides being really anxious. What do you do when you face the unpredictable future that comes with a new job or say a marriage? I have quit a six year old decently paying job. I was doing well but felt like a frog in a well so the desperate need for newer waters and challenges made me take a leap of faith. So here I am in a free fall and not knowing that the ground I shall break my fall on is not squishy and sad or green and firm.<br /><br />Sometimes I am shocked when somebody tells me you know its good that you have taken control of your life. And I think - control! Me! HEEHAW My decisions are a lot of emotions and thankfully little practical sense. I don't think that's a good balance anyway.<br /><br />I know that people who take great risks have a fifty percent chance of great rewards. I know all the gyan (knowledge) about how one has to get out there and make it happen if they want their dreams to come true. But heck! nobody told you its so bloody scary. Maybe I am a fattoo (In Mumbai that's what you call someone who gets scared easily).<br /><br />I am at some level aware that there are signs for me to read. I have pondered over what meaning shall I bring to my life. There are some things that I know I must do. My projects that will have my commitment and my desire both. Its not about money. There are some people who know why they are here. I have vague notions of it but the time is not right and I know it and I will know when it is right. I also know its not about money and it never has been.<br /><br />The signs are everywhere. The books that I pick up to read. The issues that bother me concerning the world around me near and far. The current affairs of my country that are shaping my mind and I seem to be an observer somehow instead of a participant. I know I am on a certain road and that there is some distance to cover before my work actually begins.<br /><br />I read a wonderful book by Greg Mortenson - Three cups of Tea. I am moved. What it really takes is your belief and your hard work to bring about the change that you want to see. How do you want to leave the world you got lucky to be born in. What do you want to do with your life. I think that's a very important question. I also see it as sacred.<br /><br />I picked up another book - Illusions by Richard Bach. I was thinking about magic and signs when a close friend said that I should pick up this book. I did. Profound is the word that comes to my mind. The happiest people are maybe those who are doing what makes them happy. There is a world inside and outside waiting to be explored. But are you too busy catching the next cab to a happening joint in town. Whatever be your trip. Find your happiness and know that you will want something else later.<br /><br />And then I picked up Arundhati Roy's book of essays - Listening to grass hoppers. Detailed methodical harsh funny sarcastic and very needed in the times of today. Covers topics that concern those who are interested in India's political and economic landscape that is changing before our eyes and after reading her I realise, you should not believe everything that the papers and news channels speak. Its a disturbing book because it presents a very grim reality. The reality which a collective conscience of Indian society would much rather avoid than acknowledge. She has courage to confront and drag you to the mirror with her. Buy it only if you have jigra (balls, courage).<br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-81904792772880291092010-08-24T12:39:00.003+05:302010-08-24T13:53:15.155+05:30<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FmFN5xDdzTk/THOBX3HISNI/AAAAAAAABJ0/4GsQz-GJj20/s1600/school-children.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508889016135076050" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FmFN5xDdzTk/THOBX3HISNI/AAAAAAAABJ0/4GsQz-GJj20/s320/school-children.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FmFN5xDdzTk/THOBLJ11MEI/AAAAAAAABJs/wdUECUNY568/s1600/school-children.jpg"></a><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I am in a turmoil. Should children be allowed to work as domestic help as is common practice in Indian households? My own family has a few cases where children are hired for washing utensils or clothes or sweeping and mopping. Its a very difficult thing to fight a norm which is acceptable to everyone because "that's the way it works". </span></p><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I live in Maharashtra and that too I live in the commercial hub of India - Mumbai. Life is different here than the places where child trafficking is on the rise. Children from poor states are sold through an intricate network of dalals or pimps. Often it is the parents themselves who force the child to work as they have no means to feed themselves. Poverty in the third world is a wretched ugly cousin that follows you everywhere. Of course its easier to "discuss" these issues "intellectually" rather than face them. Unlike the west, where the lifestyle of individuals reduces dependence on others for domestic work, In countries like India the cheapest thing available is labor. I wonder if China also faces the same issues but I somehow think that China is culturally more strong in their values than us Indians.</span></p><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">There are government programs that go unimplemented in most states. The funds are siphoned off before they reach the people they were intended for. The midday meal scheme that operates probably only in Mumbai is often reported in papers where children have fallen ill after consuming the food. Why? Well because food grain quality, safe and hygienic storage are compromised. I doubt if any authorised body audits the quality of government work. </span></p><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So the poor children in Mumbai are a tad better off or maybe a whole lot better off than the poor children in Uttarpradesh or Bihar or Jharkhand or Orissa or West Bengal. Of course working in households is the way out of poverty or at least keeps them from going hungry. Middle class India has a huge demand for domestic labour and like every gap, this one too is filled. If the government had the safety net for these people or enough NGO's with sufficient funds were able to help, hundreds of thousands children would be going to school to learn how to not get ripped off rather than working for years in peoples homes.</span></p><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">As usual, the government is still working on the bill for right to education for children. Hopefully one day we will not be allowed to hire children as domestic labor. And the same would attract a criminal charge. But the government will have to find ways to fill the gap for money that these children were earning. If they do not find a solution for this, the problem would remain half solved which is no good. </span></p><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">While I write, I realise that I will have to find my own solution when I stand on the spot. Its a very disturbing spot is all I can say now. It just does not go down well that I am hiring the services of a child that should ideally be in school. </span></p><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Maybe I don't understand how "the world actually works". I hope there would be some solution at hand when I get to this sticky spot. I also hope that in my own way I would be able to change the world I operate in. </span></p></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-14325602515131579262010-07-24T23:31:00.004+05:302010-07-24T23:45:22.473+05:30Tips For Healthy Living<p><span style="font-family:courier new;">These are my thoughts. Please accept or reject based on your own judgement.</span></p><ul><li><span style="font-family:courier new;">Reading current affairs of Indian Governance System can cause depression</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Courier New;">A book reading, poem writing soul is not at peace in the corporate world of grey ghosts in executive suits and spectacles</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Earning money is very important to survive</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Courier New;">How much money will make you feel safe is a very personal decision</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Courier New;">You can't hide from yourself</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Courier New;">That which pricks most is called a conscience</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Cancer of the soul is commonly dressed as Guilt</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Courier New;">It okay sometimes to not know where you are headed</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Trust your gut and leap</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Find out what you want</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Courier New;">You may discover that your wants change with time</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Explore what does success mean to you</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Ask yourself - what will make me happy now</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Courier New;">DO NOT misread Love to be a passing emotion/ infatuation</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Courier New;">DO NOT misread a passing emotion/ infatuation to be Love</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Courier New;">When you get a hate email, try to curb the urge to respond instantly - the best answers will come to you when your mind is at peace</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Sometimes not giving everybody an answer is an answer</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Self confidence works inside out</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Judgement works outside in</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Courier New;">There is no enemy like fear</span></li></ul><p><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span> </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-79132924352550400172010-07-24T23:11:00.003+05:302010-07-24T23:29:52.792+05:30Childhood Treasure Trove - Pink & White Sandals<span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I need to write to know who I am. A weekend tends to bring the need on more fiercely.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">I have spent the better part of the day trying not to over eat and reading a book by the title - Life Of Pi - By - Yann Martel.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">For months I saw this book on the shelves and picked it up, read the back of it and put it back. I knew I would eventually take it home but something inside kept saying not now. Last weekend, I went to the bookstore to buy my only defense against loneliness... and was surprised by the joy this book brought to me when I picked it off the shelf probably like all the previous times. But something inside was different. A gut feel said, now you must take it home. You are ready for it. I have always believed this to be true. For all the books I have picked up and returned to the shelves un-purchased, is only because I am not prepared for the book. And its not in my mind that I come to this conclusion. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">While reading today... while rain fell outside casting shadows on the day... For some unimaginable reason, my mind raced back. Raced back to a time when I must have been 11/ 12 years old. I thought of this beautiful pair of sandals that were bought for me. They were pink and white and were my most prized possession for a while. I could almost smell them as they were when they were new. That moment was so vivid, I could feel the air in the room where I lived, the light as it fell back in that day when I wore these beautiful sandals of mine. They represented something. Class, comfort and beauty. They also gave me a quiet confidence. I can't explain it. I was so fond of them. Why did I think of them today, suddenly while I have never thought of them ever before not even in my teenage years. It was something that had fallen off the memory chart. But I suppose I was wrong. Just thinking of it lifted my mood. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">I keep going back to my golden childhood. In moments of loneliness, boredom, stress, anxiety, I keep going back as if to seek comfort. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">Maybe I will think of my youth when I am really old the way I am thinking of childhood in my youth now. Yes I will, I already know this.</span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-876965108081571442010-06-23T23:09:00.003+05:302010-06-23T23:21:02.266+05:30A Connection<span style="font-family:verdana;">What makes people connect:</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Hate</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Love</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Lust</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Greed</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Passion</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Goal</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Dreams</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Lifestyle</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">There are probably too many things. I think two kind of people very close. Those who love each other and those who truly hate each other. When you hate some one, you study them like an opponent. You get to know them, that may be involuntary at times but you do get to know them. You know their strengths and their weaknesses. You would study them so you can beat them. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">When you hate some one, you try to exploit their weakness to your best advantage. Some times we choose to not act on our feelings but when we do we would want to use our strengths against our opponents weaknesses.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">On the other hand, when we love someone. We study them at all levels of the mind and maximise on their strengths and see if they can compliment our weaknesses. We allow ourselves to be vulnerable to them. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">The thing with hate is that even though it acts like a fuel, it can take us in the wrong direction. When its over it leaves you drained.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I don't hate anybody. But I feel good when I meet a worthy opponent. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Sometimes my opponent is that person inside of me. The good thing is that I can handle that person.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-57855809279373271302010-06-20T13:05:00.002+05:302010-06-20T13:30:55.036+05:30Two to tango<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Some things in very close relationships remain unpredictable, like the pain that comes from a pin prick, you just expect it to be painful. I am getting aware of my blind spots. Its like discovering the feel of the cars engine while you are driving it on a constantly changing terrain. A couple does nothing but tango and even if one partner is off balance, you just can't get the act together. I am realising my need for approval from my partner especially when I disagree with him. I am also getting aware of his sensitivity to my defiance or rather my degree of adherence to his sound advise.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">All of the bull above is about my buying a car he did not recommend. I have my foot inside the cake and now I can't undo it... But the other truth is that I like my cake my way...and thats his lesson from all this.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Tomorrow will be another day...</span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788630518480907929.post-16535143593604972152010-04-24T15:58:00.000+05:302010-04-24T15:58:02.539+05:30Confessions of a hijabi<a href="http://blog.dawn.com/2010/03/22/confessions-of-a-hijabi/">Confessions of a hijabi</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2