tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34190979629158818052024-03-12T18:51:35.376-07:00Inside my cocoon...SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-47891498430410582972010-09-22T02:07:00.000-07:002010-09-20T13:18:35.144-07:00He's a SOLDIER<a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvbjQlku2MQiS_M_PyAZ_UmtfP8WlwwPNR46EHnz9DLTcCIZyR62tAodob4OXvfnao26odlI1GjD4TZYFuBeBTsDTGElT9leHxMhQ8_5iDZqs64u7iIUalNWLiHqXQPpbHV5RMaWKmH68/s1600/the-proud-indian-flag-1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 328px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvbjQlku2MQiS_M_PyAZ_UmtfP8WlwwPNR46EHnz9DLTcCIZyR62tAodob4OXvfnao26odlI1GjD4TZYFuBeBTsDTGElT9leHxMhQ8_5iDZqs64u7iIUalNWLiHqXQPpbHV5RMaWKmH68/s400/the-proud-indian-flag-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519089540345452130" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);">The entire village stood speechless as the coffin was carried through the vast ruck till it reached the old tiled kutcha house. A feeble, hunched and elderly woman sat across the narrow threshold of her little home waiting for her grandson's corpse. The woman was in her late nineties. She always kept her eyes closed or barely open. Behind her stood an young man around 20years who stood holding the spade.He was wearing a khadhi half-white worn-out dhothi. His eyes were moist and he trembled with sorrow over the death of his beloved brother.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);">The old woman curiously walked towards the coffin that was draped with the national flag. Everybody's eyes were set on her movements. She held his cheeks in her palms narrowed her blurred vision on his face, stared a bit longer and slowly turned away mumbling something to self. She sat back on the stone seat on the front still.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);">The village thashildar(leader who takes major decisions on behalf of the village) stepped out of the crowd, addressing the crowd he said "My heartfelt condolences to Laxmamma and her family. We mourn the death of our brave-son </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);">Sandeepa</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"> on the war field. An amount of Rs.10,000 would be given as a compensation for the family's loss, though I know it cannot fill the loss." He bent towards the woman streching his hand that held the bundle of money.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);">The old woman sat still without any reaction. He shrugged her shoulders and placed the money on her lap. She slowly touched bent down, scraped through the currency notes and stood up with the help of her stick. She turned back at her younger grandson and signalled him to come ahead. She slowly held his hand with her skinny, dark old hands and said</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"> "My grandson's death is more of a pride to the country and my family than a loss. No money or valuables can repay his charm or equal his dedication.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);">He needs Salutes, not Sympathy.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);">We see Pride, not Plight.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);">He gave his Courage, you give him Condolences.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);">Take back your money. We want to lead a life with pride than this tentative and materialistic fame and care."</span>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-72186089884316258542010-01-20T12:23:00.000-08:002010-01-20T02:17:44.032-08:00She still spoke to me....<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5R8j2PzTSOdq0lm2-sbdBjUkYisDtBynMK91vFuG5ovD01rokCPJbqN3PJv26-HtVRNH5BT1EvlUJYzfE1tkdoRL-M6j_zUx5KEi7TF59X2pRlQLP_gqNwCSxfoBzbrxrOgtc9XXUMyw/s1600-h/cher-depr-good-size.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428723851783902594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 368px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 276px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5R8j2PzTSOdq0lm2-sbdBjUkYisDtBynMK91vFuG5ovD01rokCPJbqN3PJv26-HtVRNH5BT1EvlUJYzfE1tkdoRL-M6j_zUx5KEi7TF59X2pRlQLP_gqNwCSxfoBzbrxrOgtc9XXUMyw/s400/cher-depr-good-size.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="color:#33ccff;"> Relieved over her recovering state, </span><div align="left"><span style="color:#33ccff;">I headed towards my flat next to the hospital,</span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#33ccff;">It was a chill night, just started snowing, </span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#33ccff;">Time seemed stagnant, I realised my watch had stopped running.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#33ccff;">It was the watch she had gifted me for our anniversary last year.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#33ccff;">Hastily opened my door hearing the ringing,</span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#33ccff;">It was Dr. Bathra confirming her last breath @ <span style="color:#ff0000;">12:45</span>, when I realised my stopped watch showing the same time.</span></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div></div>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-25734835742707049092010-01-17T10:18:00.000-08:002010-01-20T02:18:21.126-08:00A new beginning<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsdKJJi91rDJZs3cWvAB-PSshMmJnUCX_2gJZ4Ov9kU0wVvO1UsoQ3ZGQnSOvRhMshr9Bg_nS46U3njeysxvn194-sJc2xBxa5Z2vTEPkILdaBJ2JCoaKhpHuh_QwABzxzlaSKWbg6x0U/s1600-h/wedding+invitation+card+1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427034887786092274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 296px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 348px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsdKJJi91rDJZs3cWvAB-PSshMmJnUCX_2gJZ4Ov9kU0wVvO1UsoQ3ZGQnSOvRhMshr9Bg_nS46U3njeysxvn194-sJc2xBxa5Z2vTEPkILdaBJ2JCoaKhpHuh_QwABzxzlaSKWbg6x0U/s400/wedding+invitation+card+1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /></div>After almost a month of misunderstanding, <div>He stood before her holding the card,</div><div>Slow and steady Tripti opened the invitation card, <div>Trying hard to digest her lover's name next to that of someone,</div><div>Tears gleamed when she saw those bold letters in graffiti,</div><div>It spelt <i>Aryan weds Tripi.</i></div><div></div></div>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-4358801613318027272010-01-17T00:45:00.000-08:002010-01-17T01:22:56.261-08:00Nostologia-2009<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcsT9Bw8FenBj_-VfkZl4jeL0XU-ufzAxU15w_2hEuS378W0m7KrZ-2q1YIvtC_DcWCGNPop0cyTtOAujNne8bMq6FYrFTjyTxc5Eqem6FgIBIABMcgl0tiZCdTPTMoKFhbc8eRkARrYA/s1600-h/fireworks.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcsT9Bw8FenBj_-VfkZl4jeL0XU-ufzAxU15w_2hEuS378W0m7KrZ-2q1YIvtC_DcWCGNPop0cyTtOAujNne8bMq6FYrFTjyTxc5Eqem6FgIBIABMcgl0tiZCdTPTMoKFhbc8eRkARrYA/s400/fireworks.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427636019142329378" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><br />First of all, I'd like to wish all my readers a very </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">'</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">Happy new year</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">'</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"> and secondly apologize for the long interval I'd taken due to million reasons. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">Year 2009 was the best year of my 21 years of life. I can call it a milestone wrt to personal & professional life.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">Many a changes took place which are indeed very nostalgic to me.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">Firstly , I passed my BE with distinction being a cherry on the cake ;).</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">Second thing was getting placed in </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC33;">QUINNOX</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"> and thus kick-started my career in August. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">Thirdly, bought my female-companion, my Rodeo, a beast on road.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">Both families, mine and my fiance (lover for 7years) made things formal in December.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">Ah! how could I forget the blogsphere, received my first award from Leo.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">Made my maximum posts this year with all 16 followers joining this year.</span></div><div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">What more can be asked for?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">I'm loving it! Hope this year would be the same extending the progression. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#9999FF;">Wish all of you this year would be a progressive one, bringing in a lot of happiness, good health and luck</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"> ;) . </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">Keep reading.</span></div>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-25057452404182840522009-10-30T13:57:00.000-07:002010-01-19T23:07:24.846-08:00Eternal<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjIkZv0vEtPrdq-ZHBUt4Sq5eeoQ8k-VZIEeEma7YKxNKQhT3Rt9fOLvb2jO3IDL7Inodr0MmvzW_oms8BOs-I32wBWEZ8ZgtvmELfjihlXar73U4-1tKItFmaq5SJBCJAIE6YmEM0vzc/s1600-h/knife+blood.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397577599117681442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjIkZv0vEtPrdq-ZHBUt4Sq5eeoQ8k-VZIEeEma7YKxNKQhT3Rt9fOLvb2jO3IDL7Inodr0MmvzW_oms8BOs-I32wBWEZ8ZgtvmELfjihlXar73U4-1tKItFmaq5SJBCJAIE6YmEM0vzc/s400/knife+blood.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center">After the third hard stab into his heart,<br />Cunningly, with all satisfaction, she stared back at him,<br />Open arms he stood, gleaming with tears,<br />To make her all his once again.</div>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-44727825960483502672009-10-25T21:29:00.000-07:002010-01-20T02:53:54.111-08:00Gone, unaware....<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeuH868_46YAc4JvYGMoQ436ybLD8jR5NphA3PYlhVOkFDT-bvmpW-TYwgmnz9sirl8xTVWkjlVL8RJ0tYhmbKzRPXR1ZDap50EKYmOQkxv1md0zBY8KVwRiixu-Xnlhi7sBLbmHO4rOg/s1600-h/art-with-smoke-1%5B1%5D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396768401459346498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 317px; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeuH868_46YAc4JvYGMoQ436ybLD8jR5NphA3PYlhVOkFDT-bvmpW-TYwgmnz9sirl8xTVWkjlVL8RJ0tYhmbKzRPXR1ZDap50EKYmOQkxv1md0zBY8KVwRiixu-Xnlhi7sBLbmHO4rOg/s400/art-with-smoke-1%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,153,51)">World never seem so calm for her,</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,153,51)">Numb eyes as heavy as a brick, those she could'nt open.</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,153,51)">Lungs cuffed as to not be able to breathe,</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,153,51)">Her svelte figure tightly packed past warmth to heat,</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,153,51)">Her insatiable desires, fading unexpressed,</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,153,51)">She tried hard, to realise it was not just a dream,</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,153,51)">Her limbs locked static at their places,</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,153,51)">Her soul parting apart from her helpless relic,</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,153,51)">She tried to scream, but energy burst within never reached out,</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,153,51)">Unable to elude the reckless fate,</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,153,51)">Perplexed she sank giving in...</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,153,51)">She sank deeper....deeper....and more deeper..........</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,153,51)"></span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,153,51)">Days past, folks talked "<em><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,102,204)">She was burried alive</span></em>".</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,153,51)"></span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,153,51)"></span></div>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-46139681199873779002009-08-26T10:23:00.000-07:002009-08-26T10:53:21.164-07:00Lost luxury<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP_RKcpReq770oML85toL8pRT7KgzgwtMSby3XYrNGLQO01o3yEKI7EEM-8lGsPIaFznX9cmP10t9dG4qskDeFHAcJlk6fLPTgRteVHK5rbt6_GR-FHLzSyvZmdl8mi17W8b4neKgND_8/s1600-h/Mothers-Love-by-kolongi.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 337px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP_RKcpReq770oML85toL8pRT7KgzgwtMSby3XYrNGLQO01o3yEKI7EEM-8lGsPIaFznX9cmP10t9dG4qskDeFHAcJlk6fLPTgRteVHK5rbt6_GR-FHLzSyvZmdl8mi17W8b4neKgND_8/s400/Mothers-Love-by-kolongi.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374328707759081202" /></a><br /><br /><div>I wandered aimlessly,<div>for something that seemed lost;</div><div><br /></div><div>Searched everywhere, through,</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">Moist grasslands</span> that spread across the large valleys,</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">Faith filled chappels</span> that glowed every day,</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">Humble ministries</span> of the noble monks,</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">Life tempting luxuries</span> at rich mansions,</div><div>Not a trace of my lost luxury,</div><div>Untill I fell on my mother's lap,</div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66FFFF;">I found it, My peace. </span></i></div></div>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-12090192750123020552009-08-18T08:49:00.000-07:002009-08-18T10:08:18.501-07:00A Performance<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRe7OD3qRoE2C38cK1SmHVYEr8PDppzFeU73HUbv5uzPNMcIvOaqueUD2XXHRsP-UKogp-alpfZWSGgM1Je5Xewq-vytuPgSlt6ecjpxncjXJkJEHOxxsbhI1pgVUCgm_oIIWr9iqIrSc/s1600-h/Image031.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 291px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRe7OD3qRoE2C38cK1SmHVYEr8PDppzFeU73HUbv5uzPNMcIvOaqueUD2XXHRsP-UKogp-alpfZWSGgM1Je5Xewq-vytuPgSlt6ecjpxncjXJkJEHOxxsbhI1pgVUCgm_oIIWr9iqIrSc/s400/Image031.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371337267144950114" /></a><br /><br /><div>Dawn set,<div>Apprehensiveness blended in,</div><div>Expectations and blessings showered,</div><div>Wishes echoed all around,</div><div>Ambhitious goals triggered,</div><div>I stood alarmed.</div><div>Curtains raised,</div><div>Thousand eyes stared back,</div><div>from different heights to rate my performance,</div><div>Masses of audience kept creeping in,</div><div>Stampede of participants pushed impatient,</div><div>Perplexion and fear seemed to surpass my talent,</div><div>But.....</div><div>All i knew was now that I've reached here,</div><div>I gotta show myself worthy of my opportunity,</div><div>I pulled up my sleeves and walked forward,</div><div>To show the world what I knew about myself.</div><div>The platform, my office</div><div>My role, an integral part of it. </div><div><br /></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66FFFF;">Yes it is true, 17-08-09 was my first working day. A big day in my dictionary for its own obvious reasons. I'd like to thank all my friends and well wishers for being there when I most needed them. I'd like to personally thank a few, a reason behind this post, them being, my Parents, Vasanth, Sharanya, Ramya, Siri, Uday, Vinay, Vara. Thank you guys for being a great moral support and hope this relationship flourishes its way to progress. </span></i></div><div style="text-align: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(102, 102, 102); white-space: pre; font-size:11px;"><table style="width:auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.co.in/lh/photo/2VdPL9hoJaroWuk2PoJZxA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Tuo4kAy_o44/SorcFZ-OLRI/AAAAAAAABB8/JDRvppykmAY/s800/images.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.co.in/shwetha.blore/BlogPics?feat=embedwebsite">blog pics</a></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></span></div><div><br /></div></div>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-25584021720148765122009-08-05T08:54:00.000-07:002009-08-07T06:25:39.021-07:00The unsaid affair<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvnfbR7-kiAhqoNy2hJlv8eFlDLD8VdlomX1DgnoAgmi6XBqWMx7gkzjiFYOrd0RBl-dgEGa0SKsRCChjEjGxddLC5RmwrT8fuWaRsIWkn87nLsSA36k9EF0LB3hdWSoTuYKa2IqWTyDs/s1600-h/the_other_woman.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvnfbR7-kiAhqoNy2hJlv8eFlDLD8VdlomX1DgnoAgmi6XBqWMx7gkzjiFYOrd0RBl-dgEGa0SKsRCChjEjGxddLC5RmwrT8fuWaRsIWkn87nLsSA36k9EF0LB3hdWSoTuYKa2IqWTyDs/s400/the_other_woman.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366544381137644514" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;color:#CCCCCC;"><p class="MsoNormal"></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:7;"><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">She hastily woke up tugging the towel till her bare shoulders to reach her handbag. The long ringing call went to a halt before she received. There were already 15 missed calls from Diwakar, her husband. She waited for the call for the next 2 minutes and pulled back into the blanket her boyfriend lied in. It was 10minutes past,and there again the call, this time with much thoughts running in perplexion she received....</span></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Diw: Siya, where have you been from so long?</span></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Siya: I....er...I....I'm still at the parlor doing my last touch. I came late for the appointment and hence I'm still not finished. I'll be there with you in other half an hour darling.</span></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Diw: Are you aware that I gotta catch my flight at </span></span></span></i><st1:time minute="45" hour="17"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">5:45</span></span></span></i></st1:time><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">?</span></span></span></i><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33FF33;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">Siya: Of coarse sweetheart! Will be there...... TC... Bye......</span></span></span></i><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">She hung up and threw the cell casually on the bed in frustration.</span></span><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Rahul: Siya why can't you just say the bhastard you are not interested to carry on the crap?</span></span></span></i><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Siya: Oh c'mon Rahul this is no time to talk, and please don't start this all again. I can never do that. I'm in a hurry than ever. He's leaving on a business meeting to </span></span></span></i><st1:state><st1:place><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">California</span></span></span></i></st1:place></st1:state><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">. He'll be back only next evening. I gotta go.</span></span></span></i><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">She pulled her purple satin gown from the bean bag, it fit her svelte figure perfectly. She hackled her hair back to her usual style and pulled them into a high pony. It was 4:50p.m by now. She hurried towards the parking lot and started her black</span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Swift</span></i><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">out of the basement.</span></span><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Siya: Rahul, what you doing here? (she asked pulling her glass down)</span></span></span></i><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Rahul: Oh Siya......</span></span></span></i><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">( he neared her and kissed her before she could say anything)</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">you'd forgotten....</span></span></i></span><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">With no time to react she sped off the street towards home. She was married to Diwakar 4years back. Diwakar being a big business magnet had no much time for personal life. Diwakar traveled out states every 15days on business trips but bought her expensive gifts a fewer times. They had completed their 4th Anniversary recently when he had gifted Siya a grand diamond necklace. All was well between them, till she met Rahul(her gym trainer) at the mall.</span></span><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Diwakar sat near the lounge on the vast crystal seat busy making calls. She obediently made her way to him and sat next to him while he was still busy on a call. He spoke nothing about the incident but to her dismay he seemed more casual, easy and exited as well.</span></span><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Siya: "Did you win the contract?"</span></span></span><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Diw: "Oh, I got an oversea call assuring positive air about it and I'll be off on this issue for a week. I miss you dear. Everytime I've to leave I feel so helpless and miserable, that’s the reason I buy so many gifts as a compensation. I know its no heed to my presence. And I always have this with me" pointing to her picture in his wallet.</span></span></span><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">She melt in guilt and bent down completely feeling ashamed of her act a few hours ago. She thought she could never forgive herself. Immediately.....</span></span><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"Darling could I drop you to the airport?"</span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">she offered.</span></span><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Surprised by her offer he quipped</span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"No..no...no....I'll manage, will be back soon and we can celebrate a vacation"</span></i><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">he kissed on her forehead and headed to the car. He was gone.</span></span><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">She dumped into the leather sofa next to the vast aquarium trying to introspect her life. Diwakar's words echoed time and again into her ears. Her thoughts were interrupted by a ring on Diwakar's cell. He carried three phones for personal, business and overseas call. He had forgotten his personal cell on the crystal seat he was sitting. It was 1 unread message.</span></span><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCFF;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Darling, I'm so sorry. I'll be late but will make it before the flight takes off unlike last time. I'll be wearing the ruby studded gown you gifted me last tour. Love you....</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCFF;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCFF;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCFF;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> - Yours</span></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCFF;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCFF;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">SUSAN</span></span></span></span><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">She immediately checked the call log to find almost all outgoing and incoming calls to Susan's number. Hard to swallow what she saw, she called her friend working in the local telephone exchange and queried the call history for the number. She was asked to wait for an hour. Meanwhile she browsed through the messages and gallery. She was faxed the details in an hour. She impatiently read the through the details to realize her husband had been dating Susan from past 4 years. .</span></span><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33FF33;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">PS:- Susan was titled Ms.Mexico and had just kickstarted her career in Fashion industry. Susan was her younger sister.</span></span></span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></p></span><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p></span>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-79978062075499904052009-07-25T09:15:00.000-07:002010-01-19T23:08:23.040-08:00Its you....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizYyH-HR0bm8tCc6mJR8pQn5OhFMqm6PqECOsu62SG2KM5KL5k6vXpQ2314pxpgdBk1kvLYLiLBrKS8syEkOPaf5LqXeSZLvmZQQTlYAW4ZVnxzuRmnomKCO2_4AjCkDuY5cXb-y1ejpE/s1600-h/1471150324_a52068a957.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362740198014882962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizYyH-HR0bm8tCc6mJR8pQn5OhFMqm6PqECOsu62SG2KM5KL5k6vXpQ2314pxpgdBk1kvLYLiLBrKS8syEkOPaf5LqXeSZLvmZQQTlYAW4ZVnxzuRmnomKCO2_4AjCkDuY5cXb-y1ejpE/s400/1471150324_a52068a957.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#ffffcc;">Looked into the mirror,</span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#ffffcc;">All I saw was two eyes, two nostrils, one tongue</span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#ffffcc;">Looked into your eyes and looked back into the mirror,</span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#ffffcc;">I saw me, </span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#ffffcc;">I recognised self.</span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#ffffcc;"><br /></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"></div>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-19408008066546511252009-07-17T09:58:00.001-07:002009-08-07T05:16:06.794-07:00Judgement day<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ILqLwsNaIzP_A7-OXwFxqGgx02rr99NkP6_BRJ1tS9ed7LjoijRF16kZbxo409KW_514izffE5qIBUECd51Jo4kKKhaiMtc3fyrg95QgPV5q4D0Pvh6uaP-7HOCJsxCWhN99ZO2hykM/s1600-h/DIVORCE_COURT.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ILqLwsNaIzP_A7-OXwFxqGgx02rr99NkP6_BRJ1tS9ed7LjoijRF16kZbxo409KW_514izffE5qIBUECd51Jo4kKKhaiMtc3fyrg95QgPV5q4D0Pvh6uaP-7HOCJsxCWhN99ZO2hykM/s400/DIVORCE_COURT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359492218336149346" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It was a gloomy weather outside. Her lawn looked moist and watered adequately. She stepped into the blue-black convertable, one year old, gifted by her to her husband on their first anniversary. It shone like a sword. She pulled back the gear and pushed off the garage. With a small note of instructions to her maid she speeded towards the street. The traffic seemed calm than any other day. Wind blew mildly through the neighbouring lawns swaying her blonde hair across her beautiful face. Pushing the hair lock back her ears, she drove faster over the recently tarred city street surrounded by the midday men at work.</span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">As she drove past the small lake where love-bitten couples always swooned. She recalled the days when she was one among the crowd. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Those were the happier days of her 26years of life she reminded herself subconsciously. The stone benches had recorded her many memories with him whose photo-frame hung down the rear-view mirror. She recalled and cherished those golden moments with him that shooed away hours like seconds. She still remembered the first day after approval, the evening when even the half an hour long wait seemed a bliss to her. He had come to her with the good news of approval from his circle complimented with a boquet of red roses as a surprise to her. The long tight embrace they made that day could never be surpassed in their 4years of life together. The pleasant day continued to the multi-cuisine dinner. The platinum ring she always craved to have was unexpectedly lipped by her pink supple lips at the last sip of the champaign. Tears of joy rolled on her pink cheeks. Back home was a long drive, he pulled his car along the side, looked at her straight into the eyes. Minimising the distance between their faces he neared her ears to whisper ' I love you'. A long kiss made the day a perfect date. Those were days when he'd call off meetings at the workplace to spend quality time with her. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> She had now reached her destination.The city traffic had now gained momentum.The parking lot was almost full. She found the space she needed to park her four-wheeler at the other end of parking lot.She looked into the rare-view, wiped her face, neatly tugged her hair back into the band. Bent towards the backseat to reach the file and her handbag, she carefully parked the convertible next to the lampost and walked swiftly towards the court. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> It was the final judgement day for her 1year of divorce case.</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> The case was filed against her spouse on charges of attempt to murder of wife. </span></span></i></span></div>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-12301987763290492422009-07-04T10:04:00.000-07:002010-01-19T23:09:01.002-08:00Addicted<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1tkk7UbnbCJjv6NKRQYi4XIcGBlyKsiDV0YSiFO1TLZE2jLsQwLPHIwz24DYaQF6zt36XCm3FX1twOQaQthIjUhX5tHwGp4aXGVa3UVwcJMVbV2ey57KSXiYiKeTrWSn5Y5FJ6COVumw/s1600-h/fea_3rd_smoke.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354843690288914514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1tkk7UbnbCJjv6NKRQYi4XIcGBlyKsiDV0YSiFO1TLZE2jLsQwLPHIwz24DYaQF6zt36XCm3FX1twOQaQthIjUhX5tHwGp4aXGVa3UVwcJMVbV2ey57KSXiYiKeTrWSn5Y5FJ6COVumw/s400/fea_3rd_smoke.jpg" border="0" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#551a8b;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="TEXT-DECORATION: underline"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#ffcccc;">He gazed at its' slowing pulse,</span></span></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#ffcccc;">Losing its life like a handicapped elf,</span></span></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#ffcccc;">He could do nothing but lose himself with it,</span></span></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#ffcccc;">Or to stride past its end forever, </span></span></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#ffcccc;">which he could never,</span></span></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#ffcccc;">Unseperable, he breathed his last </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#ffcccc;">with its'; </span></span></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#ccccff;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600cc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#ffcccc;">last puff of his</span> </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#ff9966;">Cigar</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#ff9966;">.</span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"></div>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-26026659697437646602009-07-02T10:31:00.000-07:002009-08-07T05:26:49.218-07:00The unexpected<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTfxPP7-R8z9jxuD1_pg1Fwbp3kBcbaTJ11XrnBkQNt4j1dILdo5vE76Lj9780bIatoJz59MNYdzENVbJH9oJ7mw445lUc_2qt2aHriNIhrpQHCuLjeasOqAj2xaLMmKtuYgt7UHs3uhE/s1600-h/haunted-house-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 303px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTfxPP7-R8z9jxuD1_pg1Fwbp3kBcbaTJ11XrnBkQNt4j1dILdo5vE76Lj9780bIatoJz59MNYdzENVbJH9oJ7mw445lUc_2qt2aHriNIhrpQHCuLjeasOqAj2xaLMmKtuYgt7UHs3uhE/s400/haunted-house-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353941679883959586" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCFFFF;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCFFFF;">The mid night spoke about its murk and gloom as it spread all along the barren streets of my home. It was a tedious day at work, worried about the fastened dinner preparation I'd to perform, I fastened towards my gate. I noticed a shadowly figure behind me. Looked back, to find a young man, contracted my retina to have a intricate look at him. He was in a pitiable condition. In fact, he was limp. He stood below the fuseless lampost managing his rugged luggage only on his single leg and the stick he held as substitute for his absent limb. My heart melt at the first look at him. He stared back curiously at me. Somehow I din't feel like heading home without favouring him and his reason for presence over te lonely streets. I walked towards him. He looked faint and scared at my distance towards him. I looked into his eyes which looked pale, starved and visibly feared. I queried him politely about his lonely venture at that time of night. Trembling due to the cold wind that past us, he looked down and said he was new to the place and was lost but had to reach his village the next morning. Althrough he sounded very feeble. My thoughts went churning thinking of what favour I could render him. I asked him to wait for a few minutes till I was back and hastened to my home. I wanted to treat him to a hot tomato soup and give some bucks so that he could continue to village without much financial hassels. It was dark and there was a power cut. Cursing the local power supplier I headed towards the kitchen rack to find some candles. I was taken aback at the messed up status of the kitchen, utensils fallen off the floor. I closed the window from where I knew the culprit cat had entered. Suddenly I felt I could give him te old blanket which could serve his many purposes. I carried the small white chessboard painted seat to the room to take the blanket from the attic. It was even more darker. I helped myself with the candle which I'd placed in the hallway. </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCFFFF;"> Gasp!! went my breath. I could not believe my own eyes. Everything in the room scattered and was thrown helter skelter. I ran towards my wadrobe locker. My instincts were right. My house was robbed including the blanket. I ran towards my balcony, but noticed the empty street which had no trace of the boy. All that confirmed my instinct was the coaxial cable connecting my home hanging down the lampost. </span></span><div> </div></div>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-85628685198070773522009-06-26T01:42:00.000-07:002009-07-01T23:34:27.283-07:00Divine pain<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmAhglJ4cWLsGRFbtsouqwCuE8oL6CG6UPXpyvEQzFQMEBvl6c2OVgzBTaBHu2dWZ-P9gYSVPhMjnuexwgOvJEU3Y_-4TpmmaDiFXndGXzhe8S-1rHEyjKK5tnoTJNUNl3edZ0t_GHl6E/s1600-h/newbornfeet.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 283px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmAhglJ4cWLsGRFbtsouqwCuE8oL6CG6UPXpyvEQzFQMEBvl6c2OVgzBTaBHu2dWZ-P9gYSVPhMjnuexwgOvJEU3Y_-4TpmmaDiFXndGXzhe8S-1rHEyjKK5tnoTJNUNl3edZ0t_GHl6E/s400/newbornfeet.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351562063442430450" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66FFFF;"><br /><br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66FFFF;">There she lie amidst the pool of pain and trauma,</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66FFFF;">It was a long slumber,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66FFFF;">Her limbs were as heavy as a wet log,<br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66FFFF;">Tired, sorrowfully tired she tried to raise her eyebrows,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66FFFF;">Suddenly, from nowhere, a jubilliant ring rang through her senses,</span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCFF;">Pain never seemed so enthralling to her,</span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66FFFF;">She craved for it as though that was end of the world,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66FFFF;">Her eyes began to search aimlessly around,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66FFFF;">Ears longing for the tiny cries of hunger,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66FFFF;">Hands roughly gadding on the cotton spread,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66FFFF;">Yes there she felt the the tender feet,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66FFFF;">The purpose for her state, but she never cursed.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66FFFF;">Pain seemed to famish unsaid at one look at his pink face,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66FFFF;">Tears of joy rubbed through cheeks uncontrolled,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66FFFF;">There slept her baby wrapped into a white turkey cloth,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66FFFF;">Veins visibly running through the tiny limbs,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66FFFF;">Delicate eyelids tightly taped closed for his part of slumber.</span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCFF;">Pain never seemed so enthralling to her.</span></i></div><div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66FFFF;"><br /></span></div><div> </div><div><div><br /></div></div></div></div>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-29014674666712426702009-06-25T10:23:00.000-07:002009-07-02T09:17:04.975-07:00Frozen memory<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrCXfurUzxfHHVvP9EZEUdEe50HL2gGszaRpZCuQm4M9bVyFlkNWAw3hk41DmcNDWktHL1ood_mJwr0RKuMErXAqDp7l_B6hWM6jarEai4kyGsECzD3OBEbVM-H7PG1hlaxUNYbBmo5_8/s1600-h/2202389980093231656XcmeIe_ph.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrCXfurUzxfHHVvP9EZEUdEe50HL2gGszaRpZCuQm4M9bVyFlkNWAw3hk41DmcNDWktHL1ood_mJwr0RKuMErXAqDp7l_B6hWM6jarEai4kyGsECzD3OBEbVM-H7PG1hlaxUNYbBmo5_8/s400/2202389980093231656XcmeIe_ph.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353897568986156498" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#551A8B;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></span></div><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;">Thousand words go unexpressable,</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;">Tears glimmer within eyes,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;">A few expressions in graffiti on bulletin,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;">Burrying the silent suffering into the internal coffin,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;">Vehement end, barges its ugly hands between the beloved friends,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;">Breaking between emotional promises and bends.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;">Isolating the campus by the end of the day,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;">Cold and clamp, on the benches, that bore our many carvings, we lay.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;">Scraps and slams seem the only consoler,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;">Instincts and intuitions are the only awakeners.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;">Now we treasure the petty fights and arguments,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;">Expressing gratitude and acknowledgements.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;"> Nostalogia prevails around carrying the untold misery,</span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCCC;">The physical reality now just seems a</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF99FF;">frozen memory.</span><br /><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;">Note:-</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33FF33;">This piece of work is dedicated to all my Engineering college friends. I miss you all and best wishes for your splendid future! </span></div></div></div></div>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-37973982358601630882009-06-25T07:09:00.000-07:002009-07-01T23:40:47.055-07:00Speechless words<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrc1HRVgNOBtgYiyNXBe30V0A9gWnqphym7rzwv9yLCPs6ar1M2UXC5lWhAh0eJzmGKMFd6MwCpuc0aMc-LyUC7YSl6N_68_cfVJfcyPz8YAxjqaIeXXdPaDIGczyhk0iERU5OC8SRBaQ/s1600-h/Betrayal.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 250px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrc1HRVgNOBtgYiyNXBe30V0A9gWnqphym7rzwv9yLCPs6ar1M2UXC5lWhAh0eJzmGKMFd6MwCpuc0aMc-LyUC7YSl6N_68_cfVJfcyPz8YAxjqaIeXXdPaDIGczyhk0iERU5OC8SRBaQ/s400/Betrayal.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351273870959881714" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">Ghastly graveyards swarmed to yards,</span></span></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">I heard no words;</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">Except for the spook, murk, gloom and </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">The truth of eternity.</span></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;"><br /></span></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">Outskirts of a citadel spread to far vicinity,</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">I heard no words;</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">Except for the offensive, impetuous rivalry and </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">The sedate of war.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">A stroll across the cloister,</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">Hurled across it, the zephyr,</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">I heard no words,</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">Except for the optimistic, holy murmur of hyms and</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">The need for morality.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">The pent up volcano engulfing down to sea,</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">I heard no words,</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">Except for the jinx, foggy magma and</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">The anger of nature.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">Althrough the speechless liaisons,</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">She conveyed to me the depth of sand and air,</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">She seemed to understand the languages of every element,</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFCC;">Prevailing in all these places.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33FFFF;">She was called 'Silence'.....</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div></div></div></div></div>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-37395550046136489822009-06-25T05:39:00.000-07:002009-07-04T22:29:35.048-07:0017th betrayal<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil-63LizIDj0tywCokKCQzdjn_2fyUTdiz26Tx8sRCYHBmKNhkSgpbmp9bP9My9CU4eqOf7Et2xh7uOLQvnCx7slO4NlEeVMA4NKyejObGaldF-UCVbP3m0SFtNT-kYN4e1qU2q75dFQ8/s1600-h/Betrayal.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 368px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil-63LizIDj0tywCokKCQzdjn_2fyUTdiz26Tx8sRCYHBmKNhkSgpbmp9bP9My9CU4eqOf7Et2xh7uOLQvnCx7slO4NlEeVMA4NKyejObGaldF-UCVbP3m0SFtNT-kYN4e1qU2q75dFQ8/s400/Betrayal.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351250264670715026" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255); ">It was the 16th betrayal,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCFF;">Fuming, I messaged her again,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCFF;">My new found pen friend,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCFF;">Yet again, I din't receive any replies,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCFF;">I thought that was last I'd message her,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCFF;">Days passed not regretting a day about her,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCFF;">Months after I heard from a common friend,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCFF;">She was crippled by Alzeimer.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCCFF;">This was the true betrayal</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFF33;">The 17th betrayal! </span></div><div><br /></div>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-12052680483582769152009-04-20T08:25:00.000-07:002009-07-02T00:12:52.050-07:00Simply so obvious<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxJqEtTp4CCL6dcAeVRrvpl2fKxau0LdD6LehmQsKao-CgQrChPty870EquIaXmh6mVtXd4VvIcTs_aFuugf-hgwt_CcWRjeEMaLr0-PGYjpmlmoJXgNe9AQk_bY1r2RC0ZuifMu6CbGA/s1600-h/monkey-face-spin.gif"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 280px; height: 280px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxJqEtTp4CCL6dcAeVRrvpl2fKxau0LdD6LehmQsKao-CgQrChPty870EquIaXmh6mVtXd4VvIcTs_aFuugf-hgwt_CcWRjeEMaLr0-PGYjpmlmoJXgNe9AQk_bY1r2RC0ZuifMu6CbGA/s400/monkey-face-spin.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316664710737083474" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; font-family:Arial;font-size:48px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;">There are many-a-such instances in life which ought to make you wonder what you just heard or said. Really funny ones! It was last week on 18-03-009 early morning i was rushing to my bustop carrying my record book in hand so that i could start glancing once i reach without wasting much time for my lab internals. An elderly person stopped me,i recognised him ,he was my dad\'s friend. Had no much time n patience, but still greeted him with a Hello! The very next thing i heard from him made me wonder if people are really that stupid or pretend to be so. He asked "Are you going to college?" What can i answer amidst the early morning tension of loosing my college bus? If not college where else could i go at that time, carrying a record in hand? </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;"><img alt="" src="http://shwethaoys.createblog.com/includes/fckeditor/editor/images/smiley/msn/confused_smile.gif" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; vertical-align: middle; " /></span></span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(238, 238, 255); line-height: 20px; font-family:Arial;font-size:12px;"><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;"> You encounter such questions very often. some instances are--------</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;"> When you are standing outside a temple with prasadam," seems like you've come to the temple?" </span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;"> Some unexpected guest turns up on a sunday when you are at the dining table eating "seems like you are having breakfast?"</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;"> At the bustop" are you waiting for bus?" </span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;"> And more frequently than this you hear certain phrases like these.</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; "><u style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;">Funny joke</span></span></span></span></u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;">- Jokes are supposed to be funny!, then why mention?</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; "><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><u style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;">My old grandfather</span></span></span></span></u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;"> </span></span></span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;">(in some novels)</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;">-Oh c'mon he's old and thats why he is grandfather.</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; "><u style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;">Wooden doors</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;"> </span></span></span></span></u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;">- Iv never seen a copper door, steel door or an alluminium door.</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; "><u style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;">Eating food</span></span></span></span></u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;">- Have you heard anybody eating anything other than food?</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;"> Im sure you\'ve encountered more examples these---- Actually the problem is ,these questions or phrases have a default answer of its own. The answer to this is </span></span></span><u style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;">simply so obvious</span></span></span></u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;">. Thats the reason the listener feels irritating when such questions are posed. The next time you hear such questions simply say " YOU KNOW THE ANSWER YOURSELF</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;">"</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;">. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;"><img alt="" src="http://shwethaoys.createblog.com/includes/fckeditor/editor/images/smiley/msn/tounge_smile.gif" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; vertical-align: middle; " /></span></p></span>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-91177169240795975262009-04-09T21:32:00.001-07:002009-07-02T10:06:49.694-07:00I follow me<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZkp9KpGA8DDLoaoMRfNHzacudHmSUmRsn7P0NMJVknlm7ZQcfLeMSp9QGR_FMe7NcQOzOV4HUD60CQqgNZDSwiJ70ynw0K4eqsQpuIHZdQaCXanKhXXb4llSxhfc1W4OHxZlXzm2vZo8/s1600-h/seasonal-blues.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 367px; height: 273px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZkp9KpGA8DDLoaoMRfNHzacudHmSUmRsn7P0NMJVknlm7ZQcfLeMSp9QGR_FMe7NcQOzOV4HUD60CQqgNZDSwiJ70ynw0K4eqsQpuIHZdQaCXanKhXXb4llSxhfc1W4OHxZlXzm2vZo8/s400/seasonal-blues.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351146543096120434" /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman';"><div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">Perplexed I stood there, losing my dignity, giving up to all the sore incidents, latched within a gloomy room thinking never to come out of it, i counted each and every reason to have brought me here. It was as dark as a cell, haunted it was just with those pessimistic thoughts of mine. Day night i stood there praying that be the end. Reminsces of the dirty harsh laughter on me, i saw again and again. Self-dignity, respect fading like ripples on a quiet sea. There he came..........yet again,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">yes i heard somebody,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> there....., here...., </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">I turned all around.... </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">To find no one in my vicinity. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">Did i really see anyone? hear anyone?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">Giving up, i was back into my gloomy world.... mustering my courage to give up. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">A piece of rope lay there, the only thing to encourage my seeds within, staring at it i sat all day.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">A hard voice yet soft but determined i heard this time very real, very very real, right next to me. He posed like a catalyst to my hard-musterd thoughts. He spoke...., spoke like he's never going to end. He seemed to know everything about me.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">Don't you be a coward, you are special, you may be hidden to the world and so you consider to yourself, but least is the world aware that you are capable of things which many are not.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">. You fail in life when you don't come in light with this truth. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">Bend down, see those who starve even for a single meal a day, those not being able to see the beautifull creations with their eyes, those not aware of the world around them, those who want to live and do more but counting their days unwillingly. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">You still want end here? go ahead nobody will stop you...... </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">but remember none can assure you a better life after this if at all there is one. You may be seriously confined than this for the unforgivable loss you are making to your beloved ones and the world you live. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">Self-dignity is not what the world gives to you, its what you give to yourself</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> World is vast and beautifull. If you don't like the part of world you are living in, wait for the best, the people awaiting to enter your life in future, your surroundings do change and so your cowardly, useless, downtrodden thoughts will change...... </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">I seemed to be going gradually convinced, going by his words. But ,I did'nt want to listen to him, not anymore scared thought of coming back to the ruly world I live. I ran, ran, ran as fast as i could. When i was sure i was far enough i turned back..... silence...... i stood still with the persistance of his voice, words kept haunting me.. This time i wanted to hear more... i could show myself rays of hope. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">Changed you mind?</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> it was him.... again this far. Where could you run leaving yourself behind? I asked him "Who are you?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">I got no answer.... It seemed the silence of the world. I was as desperate as you....... awaiting</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">He spoke</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">" If not me nobody else can save you. You know me. I am within you. I am you... I am your </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">conscious</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">" </span></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div> </div></div></div></span></div>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-63115993950481761082009-03-26T00:03:00.001-07:002009-07-02T00:14:43.467-07:00Tears in despair<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh__04reV92mXCqW5V5FtrruFN_BVT7vhLi-TgdPTim-FysGsDRfGYIPptq_Tm3j4fxfXJNbFleqHIH4BtgvOdrIQtBhJIsU51haRD7sZi9lY34o3ummNcftirIkxGbg1o9gAv6kvZkHU4/s1600-h/despairveiledcc.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 374px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh__04reV92mXCqW5V5FtrruFN_BVT7vhLi-TgdPTim-FysGsDRfGYIPptq_Tm3j4fxfXJNbFleqHIH4BtgvOdrIQtBhJIsU51haRD7sZi9lY34o3ummNcftirIkxGbg1o9gAv6kvZkHU4/s400/despairveiledcc.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317388782306716114" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCFFFF;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCFFFF;">Delicately she moved her fair fingers on his much loved pair of jeans, unable to control her tears, she slowly walked towards the glass window of the silence filled attic. Nostalogic about her joyfilled life, she opened her recently wed album.<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCFFFF;"> Clogged before her moist eyes were the reminisces of his presence in the room, his warm breath behind her ears, manly yet carrassing arms around her waist.... she did recall those joyous moments with him, as that was all she had about him. Bundles of thousand secrete desires, pent up cravings vent up uncontrollably like a furious volcano as she tried to re-create the air which she thought she would remain forever. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCFFFF;"> That was the dusk, trees slant in syncronisation to the cool zephyr that blew through her silky hairs, sun was bidding his routine adieu as she usually waited under the big peepal tree when his shadow crept stealthily behind her to grasp her tender waist. And he lifted her in the air to express his joy over his selection to the '</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCFFFF;">Indian Army' </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCFFFF;">which was his only passion after her. Jubiliant over his success she kissed him over his forehead. Though she went speechless immediately, he could understand her taunted emotions and fears. Grasping her arms tightly, he looked into her emotionally perplexed eyes from where tears rolled over her cheeks. Knowing the reason, he slowly held her hand in his and assured her his lifetime and their togetherness.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCFFFF;"> It was an year that she gradually passed in those words, a few letters and assurances. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCFFFF;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCFFFF;">Finally the day</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCFFFF;">, she least desired and prayed that it never come, came making her worst fears </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCFFFF;">true</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCFFFF;">, his assurances false thus bringing her world to an end.<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCFFFF;"> She lied there mentally paralysed over the bed. Tears slid down on the letters blurring the letters on them when she heard the mortuary siron gonging at her doorstep. How much she wished that the earth would swallow her right there, the wind would carry her infinitely far or she could push herself into a bottomless well. A heavy iron-like gulp thudded into her heart, head as heavy as a mudbag, she could hardly move her limbs, believe me she never wanted to get up. She din't want to see his charming face frozen to stone, grasping arms lifeless, the legs those carried her through grass rested now no less like a log, those capturing eyes now completelyand constantly closed. Time did'nt give her much, till she could realise the assuring, consoling person now lay mortal. Surrending to the mordant reality she laid her head now beaming her lover's image, his sharp smile, capturing eyes, embracing strong chest , greedy about the beam she forwarded her fragile hands towards him and </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCFFFF;">closed her eyes and she</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCFFFF;"> never opened them again</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCFFFF;">. </span></div>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-48983591400781870572009-03-24T02:03:00.000-07:002009-07-02T00:15:16.753-07:00The old beggar woman<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9I6siGHOBR4qW9y72BWV8RYFgi3qEt1pzTYPEwnq72_79LmfmtEXm8db5YAGUadTzIFtPgqzre1h_AZhNahgk6jGzvPZ26yNtVFMdR0yNFKRzgQfH0HWdMOydX494YweH_NlUFuX7wKM/s1600-h/3rd+Open+A+Gwen+Paton+Rome+Beggar+Woman.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9I6siGHOBR4qW9y72BWV8RYFgi3qEt1pzTYPEwnq72_79LmfmtEXm8db5YAGUadTzIFtPgqzre1h_AZhNahgk6jGzvPZ26yNtVFMdR0yNFKRzgQfH0HWdMOydX494YweH_NlUFuX7wKM/s400/3rd+Open+A+Gwen+Paton+Rome+Beggar+Woman.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316689580301248434" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> Lifeless sat she on the busy road at dusk with her head dropped over onto her feeble knees, rugged piece of cloth hardly covered her, swollen nerves on her hands could say her age was more than 70years, tears rolled from her barely open eyes, untidy knotted hairs clutched to thorns that lay there, was she mumbling something that was as meek as her. The street was as busy as a hive. Rich money mongers were gushing with their high profile wallets into their 4wheelers. Working class men making their way through the stampede back home. Children rushing back home with their iron-like loaded backspacks....<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> So sat she there unnoticed by million such eyes. Minutes passed to hours, idle stayed she surrendering herself to life, society, nature., Suddenly a gush, soon after which droplets sprayed themself on the pityless land. Still sat she idle, hardly feeling the cold drops on her numb feet. Thunder shuddered onto the empty streets felling trees like matchsticks. Violent wind blew the window glasses out of their pane. Soon the busy streets became as empty as a haunted desert. The violent breeze blew through the broken grills of the old builing pushing her on the wet path. Afew seconds of count the ruthless rain stopped gradually bringing back the street's callous glory. The wind had blewn the piece of gunny, her only will, exposing the wet currencies that lay scattered like a loyal dog next to her. Greedy eyes pounced onto it as if those were the last notes in the world. Lifeless now she lay there with all the world's attention over her. Her eyes stuck constantly to her eyelids , she surrendered so to the end. </span></div>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-82830371775361721852009-03-22T08:12:00.000-07:002009-07-02T00:16:24.178-07:00The day never ended<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpyIJLA8h7BKPr-9BJsXljG_j2XWroCpAwODMRzxeWcJzlnbDKeY1tbU_28eIccDERsrbhuiKz5mihszPyQSOIx73qd9z7I4wRRjNI4ZrTuXm7ea3XlzqunFrDnoLMJzW_WBzaElX8mLU/s1600-h/Worried-Girl-Street-of-Brussels-101_8099-Web.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"><br /></span><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 276px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpyIJLA8h7BKPr-9BJsXljG_j2XWroCpAwODMRzxeWcJzlnbDKeY1tbU_28eIccDERsrbhuiKz5mihszPyQSOIx73qd9z7I4wRRjNI4ZrTuXm7ea3XlzqunFrDnoLMJzW_WBzaElX8mLU/s400/Worried-Girl-Street-of-Brussels-101_8099-Web.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316042082517785634" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"><br />Bright, Sunny and a casual mid-day February was it. A day i can't forget for sure. Yes it was the day that taught me more and loose even more. Whatever the day, its nevertheless unworthy to pen. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> Woke up in gloom with the thought of the monotonous routine day ahead lingering in my lazy mind. If not for the day it was i would've rather slept for more and things would'nt have gone bizzare like that. Dragging was the day till the bell rang at 12:20 pm which reminded me again of the Khadhi exhibhition put up in Mekri. Khadhi exhibhition is one such that is arranged by the government to encourage the country's cotton industries. Clothes, accessories, interiors, chappals to medicines and pickles almost everything is found here. Month of January reminds most patriots about the Martyr's day but residents of Malleshwarm especially if they are street-smart girls like me there's only one thing we think of and its the exhibhition. Somehow as fate would have it, the exhibhition was put up in Mekri which otherwise would have been in Malleshwaram 18th cross ground.This time it was that i'd to exchange the oversized kurti for a smaller size. Obviously i din't want to go into the big den alone. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> It was 1:00pm when i left college with my friends Shar, siri and my former-friend ****** lols.....(now on referred as Ms.Boasty alias Ms.B coz it was all that she was whiz at). </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> Surprisingly got into a KSRTC bus, (stop there, whats surprising abt dat?) it came within a few minutes to that haunted bustand. On the way back i mentioned my idea to Ms.B of going to the exhibhition to exchange the piece. And, there were we by 2:05 approx. Polled Rs.10 each to begin into the crappiest series. Once after entering the tented den, i brisked towards stall 310 where the kengeri gramadyog had displayed many embroidried kurtis, tops, shirts, skirts and so on... I was here i had to reach. All through my way from entrance to 310 i'd to pacify Ms.B to walk like a pirate horse with eyes closed coz its heights of annoyance going shopping with her and thats because of her habit of visiting each and every relevant and irrelevant stalls. She wants clothes, gold, earrings, bangles, pots , all ok, but would you believe it was even carpet, shawls, jute, bedsheet stalls. Scanning each and every form in her vicinity did she delay our way out to last stall at 2:45. Perhaps i got somewhat the kinda piece i wanted..</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> It was almost when we'd reached the end, did my cell start vibrating, the call wa to Ms.B from 1 of her old friend. Yes Ms.B though boasts about everything she din't carry a cell for which reasons were more than a hundred. It was 2minutes after that call, my call started vibrating again. And yet again, it was not my call but hers from her boyfriend. A kind of annoyed i just quoted "My cell is used by you more than me". She fastened her steps towards the food spot talking. Both thirsty and tired we opted to visit the north karnataka food stall. Ordered 2 '</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">jolla rotis'( made of corn). </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">I took the plate with my other hand holding the cover containing the cloth. Ms.B made her steps towards me and went in gad for a nice clean chair which is very rare to find in such government organised exhibis'. By now we got busy hogging. In no time the roti was over with the brinjal gravy same like how it was when it was served. No place to wash hands and all the tissue in my bag( yes i carry) over, i held my hand down loose and walked without toching anything, neither my bag nor the cover that i was holding.Now out of the exibhi, we were in search of an auto. After much an argument for justice one of the autowallas agreed for meter. And thus we reached chungs dog-tired. I was browsing through the menu card when Ms.B asked for my phone to message her guy. After a long dig into my multicolor designerbag i realised i din't have my cell. Anxious i arose from the seat to the counter to call bac to my number. After 3 long rings the phone went </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">switched off . </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">This was when i realised i lost my cell. What on earth? What would i say at home? By now even Ms.B had become numb so as to thinking if the case was against her as it was she who used my cell before it was lost....</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> No time to think we had to act fast before the culprit made use of mine/mostly her irresponsibility. We immediately caught an auto and ran back to khadhi. I rarely have good habits but 1 among that was noting the license board inside the auto. This time i'd done the same. Now i started enquiring the autowallas there for their collegue named Ganesh(which i'd seen on the liscence). Nobody knew him. Many of them asked if i noted down his number( i would have but if i knew i would loose my cell there). Now i stood there helpless thinking of the day and the reason i'd got my obssessed 6300( mp3, 1gb card, 2mp). That was a gift presented by my mom for aquiring first class and clearing 2backs in 1 shot and for completing my 20yrs of age just a month ago. And so it had a sentimental value. Back to the foodspot i started recalling. Ms.B joined me and gave looks as though she was seriously interospecting. She urged that she gave the phone back to me. I asked her if how i could've taken the handset when my hand was what it was. She din't reply and partially accepted her intensity of share(though full share)she silently mumbled she'd buy it back to me. Now that was a fair deal, tears did not roll down which otherwise would have. But still i knew the new cell can never replace my much loved cell. Now we'd to go back home as i had to go to my CAT classes. On the way back we went to her guy's office where she narrated the story. Though they din't discuss anything in front of me, all i was conveyed was we had to go to National market near majestic as dat guy knew some guys there who'd get it for cheap. Back home my chappli gave hand. Once we reached, she started making calls in an attempt to sell her ipod gifted to her </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">(which today i know was a melodrama). </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">I decided not to go to classes but instead roam with her. Now i'd to take out the documents of my lost phone. It was on the attic. Lazy to pull a chair i tried to climb on the wadrobe shelf to reach it. Meanwhile id searched my suitcase( contains all g-cards, id-cards, slam book and O'henry collection) but the search was vain. The suitcase lay carelessly on the floor. Ms.B being podgy than me offered to attempt. She almost reached there....... </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">thud,thud,thud </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">she fell on the black small suitcase, now the suitcase was completely smashed like a cycle under a lorry. Even her toe's thumb nail was broken from the skin and now bleeding. Brought a roll of cotton and applied some cream. Both left home to a medicine shop where i bought bandages and carefully pressed it on her toes. As it was already 6:00pm left in an auto to the market which was my 1st visit to that crappiest place in Bangalore. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> Fully lit, crowded, selling bags, nighties, watches and everywhere surrounded by the dusk drunkurds we made our way through to some complex where we stood waiting for her guy. After a half an hour her guy turned up with his friend. Meanwhile i and she had invaded the complex bargaining and enquiring for a 2nd hand. According to me this was not justified. What the hell for should i buy a 2nd hand for no fault of mine.... morover my cell was just a 8-9 months. Now her guy instructed her to home with me so that i'd feel secure at that time of the evening(7:30). Back we placed our ass in the auto and headed back to malleshwaram. The hardest part was this..... it was very difficult for her to shut her mouth that she started talking crap to auto-fellow. He took her behavior for granted for uneccessary and imaginay feelings. And you can guess.... yes, he started pestering for her number. But still madam would'nt stop, went on and on....... asking his name and what not, till we reached 2-3 blocks away from my house when i stopped the auto there which or else would've led to undesirable consequences. We'd to pay above meter though it was not 9 yet. That dog had its day with a few extra bugs. Somehow my intuition pinged me not to go towards home. Hence i started walking in the opposite direction as that of the auto and my house. I noticed a small road with no street lights and very isolated but only 1 CD shop barely crowded by loafers at the end of the lane. That was the only cut in vicinity which otherwise was a straight road from dhobhi ghat(washerman's colony). Towards the left was an old building which had no traces of humans. I pushed her and so myself into its walls thinking we could leave once we hear the auto leave. Complete silence...... for the other 15-20 seconds which seemed like an hour. All i could hear was my heart pound. I just looked back and got scared seeing my own shadow. I asked her not to move so that anybody walking down would'nt get a hint of 2 helpless young girls. Slowly i moved towards the balcony-like sill and peeped down towards the road. GOSH!!! The bhastard had'nt left. His eyes were gaping at the lane. A new eccentric thought occured </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">what if some guys come from upstairs? </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">This time Ms.B took my hand and asked to walk out and so we did knowing that it was far better to be on the road than a haunted building</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">in an isolated lane. Back on track, stupid's brain went switched off or something she started greeting the womanizer sarcastically " </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">why u still here?"</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> What the fu** was her problem in it? I immediately asked her to take a coin and pretend talking to someone, looking at his number plate (near the CD shop). Heaven's sake for the 1st time she did as i told her. Coward drove away. Panting-puffing still scared of anyone following us we reached my house. We dispersed once her guy came. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> It was 10'o clock when i finished my dinner and lied on my bed and was fast-asleep to see reminses of my much-beloved 6300. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> </span></div>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-15957734679613212452008-11-29T10:44:00.000-08:002009-07-02T00:33:53.630-07:00THE ULTIMATE WAKE UP CALL<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbk5dwvg-f1iUm-bJ-9ZhWAcHwjQ1q9dF4ni5LSzSMHEqyiLQ-l1WW2J9L8X3vsWWDYozLGOGv7aJhfKOUQrEotSIwIIhozhuMqvV3QSA7F3T4t9r-G_BVR_X8sidPp7Pt5siCbH8HQtg/s1600-h/INDIAjpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 321px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbk5dwvg-f1iUm-bJ-9ZhWAcHwjQ1q9dF4ni5LSzSMHEqyiLQ-l1WW2J9L8X3vsWWDYozLGOGv7aJhfKOUQrEotSIwIIhozhuMqvV3QSA7F3T4t9r-G_BVR_X8sidPp7Pt5siCbH8HQtg/s400/INDIAjpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274368620248414850" /></a><br /><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">Sheers of cries,eeries of frequent fireshots, reminses of treasured memories, amidst a pool of blood lifeless lay our friends, fellow citizen, brothers, sisters and OUR PROUD HEROES. Wednesday night started this blood-thirsty mayhem., eversince the entire country is doomed in hopes about the beloved, prayers, condolences and tears for the lost. The 3-day gamble of lives ended after an intense fight, bravery, selflessness, heroism of our beloved COMMANDOS ans SOLDIERS. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">We as the citizens of the same country what have we dedicated here? Nothing at all....?? Is that all we can do? I don't know. When there are the young warm blooded negetives dedicating to destruction, we the INDIANS today's youth, tommorow's citizens being a mass(majority) being helpless about in such a neeedy situation? Can't we get onto the floors? This sounds impratical? Then does our share of responsibility, sacrifice, dedication to the country remain a ??? C'mon guys thats why i called it a "Wake-up call".</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> Lets do our bit. The country for a 4day was flooded with fears, cries, bloodshed, loss of valuable lives . Enough is enough lets wakeup, now let the country be flooded with the rage of awareness. Nothing other than The Powerfull, Intelligent, Brave, Determinat citizens of INDIA can bring Terrorism a big HALT and make it lick its feet. You get that? While our leaders are busy calculting and bargaining the compensations to families and making meeting in mid-city causing traffic jams and causing inconvinience lets do our bit of duty. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> Terrorism is not just limited to Taj Hotel, Oberoi, Nariman house and such centres but very much may strike te very train/bus you are travelling, eatries,workplace anywhere. You know that and i know that. Our ancestors have shown us what we are capable of. Bravenass is in our genes. Nothin can break a democratic country like INDIA, our INDIA our MOTHERLAND. There may be a bit of Indira Gandhi in us, Gandhiji in us, Sandeep Unnikrishnan or our very own Mr.Karkare in us. Lets bring them out.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> Terrorists reason their stand as a voice for the injustice done to Muslims.Then they sure lack General Knowledge. Former Prime Minister of India was A.P.J.Abdull Kalam. Former Indian Cricket team captain was Azaruddin. The stars whom all we youth adore and woo Shah Rukh Khan, Aamir Khan and Salman Khan. Why all this? The very person who recomposed to the tunes of our National Anthem "Jana Gana Mana" is A.R.Rahman. Surrender our Mujahindins(their demand to central Govt)? What for? To captivate the entire country and bring their rule? The Indian Government is not foolish. Freedom brought by our ancestoral Netas and freeedom fighters after all that strive to be given up to such cowards who have can only avenge on innocent armless civilians? Cowards are they who barge into a country late night and attack civilians and commons and are no match to our Brave, genius, powerfull, efficient HEREOS, Not a chance. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> Ever wondered what our commandos last thoughts would have been? It would've been just to save others lives which is very much seen when Sandeep Unnikrishnan succummed to death while saving his fellow commando. They might have even regretted that they din't do much. But least do our heroes witness today the freedom of Taj and success of the Mission "BLACK THUNDER". Lets join hands and do not something but everything to make this world Terrorism-free. We know "United we stand, divided we fall". </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> Lets take time to salute our BRAVOS and sense our luck, gratefullness, honour and privilage in taking birth in a country like </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">INDIA MY MOTHERLAND.</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">JAI HIND</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">!!!!</span></div><div> </div><div> <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:-webkit-monospace;font-size:13px;"><embed id="VideoPlayback" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docid=7399792002477900458&hl=en&fs=true" style="width:400px;height:326px" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed> <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: normal; font-family:Georgia;font-size:16px;"> </span></span></div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-87797384868279714582008-10-02T08:54:00.001-07:002008-10-02T11:14:44.308-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:arial;font-size:9px;"><div face="arial,sans-serif" size="13px" style="width:288px;"><div><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="288" height="192" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fshwetha.blore%2Falbumid%2F5252581867636172833%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed></div><span style="float:left;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/shwetha.blore/UntitledAlbum" style="color:#3964c2">View Album</a></span><div style="text-align:right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(57, 100, 194); text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></div></div></span>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3419097962915881805.post-28300553278816855832008-09-24T11:20:00.000-07:002008-10-08T04:55:48.819-07:0024hour merry-go-round<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvKOb3yE-bgnqIP7lmrdOJ9SSHlbmUl683_knabkBY3BygkUUywDrDGkti_rb_XVBZ3yGSS5NMcxfl5zBeEudikM3aFmBJbXJv4ZfTFOztNwxZOYZu_6y42O05DhZj5czWeEFRgAtbBWg/s1600-h/gudi.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvKOb3yE-bgnqIP7lmrdOJ9SSHlbmUl683_knabkBY3BygkUUywDrDGkti_rb_XVBZ3yGSS5NMcxfl5zBeEudikM3aFmBJbXJv4ZfTFOztNwxZOYZu_6y42O05DhZj5czWeEFRgAtbBWg/s400/gudi.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252012876562522994" /></a><br /><br /> Its the Month of September, doing my final year BE. Life already seemed so monotonous. Craved a very desperate outing to nature and scenery spots id only seen in movies, so-called special one in my blog. Yes, for his dismay i made it even without his mercy. lolzzz......<br /><div> </div><div> Its been 2days since the night-out with us still carrying the hang-out tampering over our mind, thats what i call "persistance of Excitement". Our motive was to spend QUALITY TIME. So obviously we could'nt afford to compromise on Getting wet and Trekking.<div> Trekking? Watched it in "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Dus ka dum</span>"," <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Fear Factor</span>", <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Akshay kumar's movies</span> and those age-hold <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">stunts</span>. Inspired by these western-influenced drama were we that we pulled-up socks to accomplish the least thought. Let me start from moment-1</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">DAY-1(26-09-2008)</span></div><div> Not rightly to be called as"day". Our 24-hr biography started at 10:45pm for all residents of Shidlagatta and Chickballapur. The bus asusually was 1/2hr late than the scheduled time. Meanwhile showers of messages and calls poured in my cell. For all bangaloreans the scheduled time was 11:30 at Mekri circle. We four girls Myself, Swetha, Sharanya,Sushmitha got together before heading to the venue. I would like to confer a token of thanks to Sharanya's father on behalf of all three of us for picking us up inspite of his out-of-station commitment the next day. After all this is the least i can do.</div><div> It was 11:30 when we had reached mekri bustop. Spotted Sunil on the other side of our bustop.</div><div> Had a mini photo session. Vinay and Uday Kumar joined us after a 20minutes. And then...., we had to encounter with the least-expected, undesired net-catch in hands of cops for obvious reasons. If not Sharanya's parent's presence fate would have made it a memorable day for the wrong reasons. Once we defined our student status waiting for college bus on a trip, we were left to swallow our fears. GULP!!</div><div> Excitement brought shocks through my spines when i recieved a message from Sandhya that the bus had reached Hebbal. Any time bus will be in front of me. Much dreamt of a day. Its known that mind is the fastest traveller. Yes.. my mind already started visualizing the view of a lighted DVD throwing behind echoes of laughter, screams, captions etc., I was brought back to reality when the SILENT 4wheeler stopped in front of me. Hushhhhhhh went my excitement like a stream of fire in a bucket of water. I think i had forgotten where the bus was coming from(Lolz...). I was the 1 carrying 2 packages luggage. One being my backspack the other a box containing events and prizes for winners and not to forget atleast now Bubbles. A moment of glare through the bus, i saw all the girls tightly buckled to their seats and sitting quiet like new-born chicks. Then some guys at the backend of the bus resting (A hard-day of labor ahead, how could anybody expect them to strain themslves being awake?) . Of all it was this pack (lolz...) 4-5 of them sitting and watching some movie(telugu obviously). Pity did we these Alzemeir-striken lives who had forgotten we were out on a tour along with the class. Nothing can be said to such "Civilization-deprived people".And so did our journey start. I silently chose a 2-seater and started glaring outside the window digesting the unexpected contradiction. The bus halted.This was the last stop to pickup my new found friend Sanket. A daring , outspoken, extrovert alike me. Being feathers of the same bird he found my silence unusual. Amused was i, when my other friends too expressed their displeasure over the unruly atmosphere. It was now that most of them surrounded me and asked me to start something creative so that the gloom would not prevail any longer. I was a bit uncomfortable as i knew that majority were only interested in sitting in the same place chit-chatting in their respective groups, watching movies and soaps(lols..), hatching eggs and what not. No matter however much i say it is least. Sanket raised his voice and woke everybody from their nests(seats). Many suggested Anthakshari would be a good start. It was. The bus was horizontally divided into 2teams. But as time passed it became a 1-to-1 event between Shubankar from my team and Uday from the other. Amd so it got boring. Next it was 'Dumbcharads". The names of the movies suggested were monopolised only to Kannada. Tell you names i remember "....geddethima","Dharani mandala madhyada ollage","gillipanjara" and so on.......So you can guess very well how it would have proceeded. Thus the trace of thrill that surfaced famished untold. There was a coffee-break in mid-highway amidst a lorry garage. We were pretending to be chilled by the PJ's made by 1 of them who was describing how, the other day he had got caught by lecturers 1 after the other. I was called by Pramod. I think this the first time in these 4yrs that i ever spoke to this guy. He said he understood my distress and said that all of us too travelling in the same boat but nobody was expressing it. Came back to bus, all the events had stopped, lights off, all bid a Good Night. Knowat only thing that had not lost its charm was the '<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Idiot's box'.</span> Good night for what then?. Sleep with that ear-drum tearing volume? What on earth? Believe me,none could sleep. Now do you understand th complete meaning of "Civilisation deprived"? </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Day-2 </span> </div><div> We reached Nanjangud at 5'o clock. Eyes still woopy, all carried luggage to the accomodation. Wow pretty sight it was to watch the Gopura in that faded dawn sunlight. Took a few snaps of it. Headed towards our accomodation. From outside it looked somewhat like a choultry with some painted faded sculptures. As we logged in, we were redirected by Tilak singh to our respective rooms. To be honest, its not what you are expecting, rooms were O.K. Could not expect anything better from a public low-cost accomodation room. Obviously we din't expect a luxurious 4-cot wadrobe-studded room. Many girls curled up on their beds with a vain-hope of covering up their lost sleep. Then we were intimated to fresh-up and get ready so that we could see the temple and move-on as we had to cover-up 2more scheduled places <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);">HIMAVADPAD</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);">A</span> and <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);">TALAKADU</span>. After a long-tiring toilet-hunt,we discovered that it was in the same floor.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> Eureka!! </span></div><div>Yawk, yaeee........ cries of ours as we stepped into the bathrooms. It would have been a lot better if we atleast were asked to take bath in "Swacha Nirmala Shouchalaya". The most striking, puke-provoking moment of my life. Covered with webs, Latchless doors, Dirty everywhere as though it was never cleaned after the day it was built. We somehow managed to brush our teeth and wash face and hands with the water we had carried from home for drinking. Cursing, cribbing we got ready, packed bags and came out. Rested our luggages in the bus and headed towards <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Nanjundeshwara swamy</span> temple. 'Mesmerising' is less to describe the temple. The temple covered almost an acre in diameter including the pure <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Kapili</span> river. We directly went into the shrine. A good alankara(decoration) of flowers to the lord. After a peacefull, heart-filling sight of the diety we went for a <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">pradarkshine. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Towards the left, first we encountered Lord Subramanya's temple. As we went further a series of Black-stone caved sculptures of lord shiva each depicting different avathatas of the lord. Then there was the big aethetically carved </span>nandi(</span>bull) carved out of a black stone. Looked very appealing, especially due to those curved-lit bulbs at the top. Wondered how more appealing it would be at night. On the way out of temple, being an animal lover myself could'nt stop taking snaps with the giant beast even at a cost of Rs.10. </div><div> It was about 6:30a.m butterflies in tummy. Fiercely hungry craving for any kinda breakfast. We were taken to a gulli-like looking narrow road behing the temple. It was a small </div><div>manglore-style hotel. We were served with Idli- green chillichatni and vada. Yummy.....lip smacking and relieving for our empty-stomach. After charging our batteries we headed back to the bus. As we had to wait for our fellow-members Sanket, Pramod, Sridar, Shashi. Me and Sunil took a stroll of walk towards Kapili. Peaceful and image-reflecting clean water. Siri and Ramya joined us. Back to the bus i voluntarily took the role of a TV9 reporter with camera-woman Ramyashree and queried all our fellow-tourists about their opinion on visiting the place and any suggessions they'd like to mark via TV9. (In this session i have sensored many uneccessary incidents which i feel is not worth talking and remembered). </div><div> From there we headed to our next destination, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);">HIMAVADPADA'</span>S Gopalaswamy temple. It was just a petty 1/2hr jouney from nanjangudu. Reached the hill almost 25feet from the tip at 8:30a.m. This was the most expected place by all of us. Yes it was truly a heavenly view of greenery all around the place. It was quite sunny when we'd reached. This, as the name suggests is a place thats apt and ideal if visited in the early dawn amidst dew and moisture. However it was as good as expected. A steep hill, quite slippery here and there. Me, Priti, Sush, Sridar, Sanket, Shilpi the last ones to slide down this steep. Had an unforgettable photo-shoot in all locations possible. Panicked downhill as we could seee the rest of our classmates settled on the rocks for a port-folio. Unexpressable is the view from there. Not even a single dried, bald tree around. It was undoubtedly the core nature-lap. Echoes of our laughter, scream shuddered everywhere. Any number of shots was too less to capture the memories of our time spent climbing down and up the hill. I had a hilarious moment(dialogue) of laughter known only to me, sanky and priti. From the deep bushes on rocks we had reached, a view upwards to the place where the bus had stopped a big sigh at the thought of climbing back. A real task to accomplish. We did it. Unfortunately i'd came late and started early. Had to climb the hill all alone. Developed cold vibes on the way with 1 of the fellow-climber who was much bothered about my weight. Not worth mentioning any more even about this uncivilised person nor the incident. Reached the bus panting and puffing for breath. Everybody craved a desperate need for water which was a already over. Slowly came my other friends Priti, Sush ,Sandy, Sanky, shashi,rani, pramo...... boasting of a quality photo shoot more a bit down than i went. Regretted my fast comeback to bus. It was not yet complete. We had yet another 25-30 feet to cover upwards to the <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Gopalaswmy temple</span>. Determined, did i again get down and walk upwards to the temple on Ramya's persistance. All fetched watercans on loosehopes of filling water. Desperately all crowded near the pump-tap to have a sip. I did have a sip or 2 later to find that the water id muddy. Meanwhile there was a small tragedy when Vinay hurt his knee( You may find this uneccessary but these are little memories we wud cherish a long way from nw). The temple was crowded by cops and locals as there as some kinda <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Jatre</span> that perticular day. We went to the tip, a view of my volatile vicinity worth a mention. Awesome... from there. It reminded me of the landscapes id seen in songs, paintings and google. Captured the view in my virtual lens, thats the least i could do. Temple believe it or not was soo cold especially the floor. It was very sunny outside. We had a good view of the Gopalaswamy diety.The pujari suggessted that we feel the dew drops over the roof near the diety. Truly a mysterious experience. Sat a while and headed back towards the bus for our next and final destination Talkadu(An exciting and must-visit place by all we girls). </div><div> Again we were tightly clutched to our belts for a 5hr drive(made 6hr as the driver had to re-correct his 1st time drive to the destination). Most of the time was spent retaking turns. It was now that the trip-spirit gained momentum. We started our game with match-hunting. Shashi and Pramod were first co-incidentally followed by Punith and his match(forgotten). After handling the coffee mugs as prizes, i initiated that the next event would be Housie. However i found that Punith was desperately craving to conduct the game though he did not know much about the rules. The spirit died partially. Anyways 2to3 rounds of housie was conducted. I won a full-housie of Rs.50. With that pleasure i quit for the next round. Only a minimum joined the next round. Slowly the game had to be stopped forcefully as none found it anymore interesting. Then the bus was virtually split into many groups. I for the first time learnt a new card-game <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">BLUFF</span>. Very addicting and interesting. Sushmitha, Shashi, Tilak, Pramod and myself were involved sooo much that we atleast revived and played 10rounds of bluff. Its a must-tell that Tilak singh became the ultimate Bluffmaster(won 6times). I, in fact observed and learnt her tactics keenly before i won twice and became a proud '<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">BLUFFMASTER</span>'. Not to forget Sanket's frequent interruption into the game that even he would join, his interest would die down as soon as he got his share f cards. Never completed even a single game. Never knew him till a few days back, gem-chap being misunderstood for wrong reasons. </div><div> It was 4:00p.m approx when we reached Talkad. As we expected the bus stopped a bit far from the lake. We had to walk up the desert till the lake. It was fun. Dragging our feet through the sand did we ultimately reach the lake. As always there would be people bad-mouthing the thrill. Yes, among our classmates were there a many black-sheep scaring others of the dire consequences in getting wet. Never mind, Me , Priti, Sush, Radhika, Sumalatha pioneered the Water ride in theppa(bamboo boat). Sandhya, Shilpa, Rani,Shoba were in the other boat. Started splashing water on each other whenever our theppas dashed each other. FUN!!! When the ride was over, i suggessted sush, priti that we wet ourself, afterall what for did we come sooo far(145kms from home)? So did they agree instantly. Priti had visited talkadu just a week before this trip. So it was she who knew the true state of water, place, food...etc., The atmosphere din't appear favourable for just 4 girls to jump into the lake. We noticed Sanky, Shashi,Pramod and sridhar enjoying with catch-catch in mid-lake. Tempted to join we called them to the end we were standing. As the water was not clean we compromised on gettin where they were. SMASH!!! Pity people who missed it. We played with mini gorgeball match(boys vs girls). The only disadvantage was that the green room was not good. Very small and suffocating. </div><div> Back to the bus, we were accompanied by Bhanu, Sunil,Tilak and punith. On way back i noticed hut like pucca houses seen in text books and movies. The bus was awaiting everybody's presence. Many had gone to temple. I found my close-friends missing in bus, isolated were they peacefully sitting a bit far on stonebench. I joined them. It was me , siri, shar and uday. </div><div> Tired and hungry nobody spoke anything for sometime. Around 7:30 spirits reached peak when most of them joined th bandwagon of my kinda explicit enjoyment. It all started after shilpi danced for the "jawani phir na aaye"(situational number). ULTIMATE!! Everybodys vibes broke off to temptations, all lights switched off i went back where siri was sitting as she had promised to initiate a dance-mood. 1 after the other typical tapangoooochi numbers buzzed the air in and around the bus. All those irritating numbers like c<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">hitranna, aithalakadi, Rock your boby </span>seemed a must listen to raise my pentup spirit. I LOVED THE MOMENT!! This is my way of enjoyment. There was this unexpected break while dancing that i fell miserably on siri who fell on sharu. We hurt her arms unknowingly, Sorry dear for that. We were tired and split to laughter. Back to seats we deserved a must-rest for all that we had done forgetting our lunch. I now thank that elders like parents and lecturers were'nt around else neither could we have skipped our lunch nor could we have stood near the tip of gopalaswamy hills nor danced like lunantics(Lols...). Over all over we fell back to our seats for a cat-nap. It was 9:30 when the bus stopped at Maddur cafe for a supper. We four(siri, shar, ramy, and me) had masala dosas while the rest had meals. Back to bus did i fall into a deep slumber(Zzzzzzz...........).</div><div> It was now that priti gave vote of thanks. Unfortunate was i not to hear my name mentioned for initiating the 1st trip of our class. Anyways via this blog i i'd like to express a few things.</div><div> I never knew how important I was untill Sharanya, Siri, Pramod, Shashi,Ramya and Sanket expressed me whem i sat gloomy. And joys of tears unexpressed when Sush, Sanky and a few others thanked me individually for initiating such a memory. Thanks and I LOVE U ALL!!! </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div></div>SHWETHAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03944933479893633786noreply@blogger.com2