<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138</id><updated>2011-07-31T00:34:35.678-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wandering Thoughts...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>95</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-2271177091799905356</id><published>2009-06-19T16:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T16:10:10.329-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When I do what I do because I want to and not because I have to, of course its fun, but otherwise, domesticity kills me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-2271177091799905356?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/2271177091799905356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=2271177091799905356' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/2271177091799905356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/2271177091799905356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2009/06/when-i-do-what-i-do-because-i-want-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-5307927015887306886</id><published>2009-04-29T20:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T20:24:15.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Symbols</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When one of my colleagues brought back a couple of lucky charms from Beijing, I picked the symbol of success over relationship. I cant believe this is me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inner Voice: It's ok honey, you are not 20...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-5307927015887306886?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/5307927015887306886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=5307927015887306886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/5307927015887306886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/5307927015887306886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2009/04/symbols.html' title='Symbols'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-8222065286188533381</id><published>2008-10-28T13:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T13:33:07.775-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gotta go!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Soon after I bought my current cam, there was a trip to San Diego planned. Actually, now I don't  know which was planned because of which. Anyway, so I had a week to 'prepare' before we left and I sat and read the camera guide completely day and night so much so that ogiedogie made fun of me about how he never saw this kind of dedication during my Masters! Operated the camera a bit with him being my subject about which he was very happy, but not so much with the result! I crammed up aperture/shutter speed settings for different conditions of light and times of day and thought I am going to come out with amazing pics. (More about what happened to the pics on this trip in some other post).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;San Diego was a long drive (the others will kill me for saying this since I did not drive at all :P). Crashed at midnight, expecting to wake up after a deep sleep of atleast 8 hours. Unfortunately, San Diego, rather 'gotta go's'(our host) place is quite prone to fire! I am laughing as I write this....we were woken up at 5 in the morning by our host who forced us to get out of the house. He reminded me of a military officer commanding us to get up or get our ass kicked! He was standing there (he looked intimidating especially since we were all sprawled on the floor and he looked like a giant towering over us) with his hands on his hips and trying to wake us up. I turned and looked at him with half open eyes and I could hear him saying...gotta go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It took a whole lot of time for all of us to realize why we were on the streets at the wee hours of morning. Fire Alarm! While rubbing my eyes and cursing everyone in the world for disturbing my sleep, I realized it was a false alarm. After going back and squeezing into the comforter, it wasnt another 2 hours and I could hear a buzzing sound that started irritating me until it got louder and louder...and then we realized it was another fire alarm! Most unique experience...but not so pleasant. This time, after we all assembled outside, I took out my cam to capture this very eventful moment. Ya, I had to save my precious cam this time (just in case it was a real fire)! Its a different story that I didn't bother getting hold of my other valuables...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Oh...ya, the second time was a false alarm too. $@$@$^!#$#% So much for my sleep!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hp6F74TfxAE/SQd2wL0ZuvI/AAAAAAAAD60/lCntYJqCBi0/s1600-h/DSC_0112.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hp6F74TfxAE/SQd2wL0ZuvI/AAAAAAAAD60/lCntYJqCBi0/s320/DSC_0112.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262305259784092402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-8222065286188533381?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/8222065286188533381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=8222065286188533381' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/8222065286188533381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/8222065286188533381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2008/10/gotta-go.html' title='Gotta go!'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hp6F74TfxAE/SQd2wL0ZuvI/AAAAAAAAD60/lCntYJqCBi0/s72-c/DSC_0112.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-7604310691510981993</id><published>2007-08-20T19:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T19:45:26.164-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Some other time,&lt;br /&gt;Some place else,&lt;br /&gt;Some other day,&lt;br /&gt;Some other phase of life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not now...not now&lt;br /&gt;Bring him again another day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When things go right, but at the wrong time...u know how it is, dont you? Things are still wrong. But, when things go wrong at the right time, there is still scope for fixing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know which one this is. There is no hope for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish two things didn't happen at the same time in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-7604310691510981993?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/7604310691510981993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=7604310691510981993' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/7604310691510981993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/7604310691510981993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2007/08/some-other-time-some-place-else-some.html' title=''/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-6033275174369153490</id><published>2007-07-30T14:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T14:03:23.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What was that?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Time : 3.30 AM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Background: Slept at 1 AM after reading a novel, woke up at 3 and was lying awake for about 2 mins before I got a call from my friend for whom I had to open the door. After the hi hellos how was your day, I went to sleep and was lying there on the bed thinking about the day that had gone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Event: I hear someone singing, a slight hum, one of my fav songs. My friend is fast asleep next to me. I wonder for a few seconds before realizing where it was coming from. It was me! I got up in my bed in shock and it stopped. I was singing and I was thinking of something else at the same time and only the part that was thinking was the part of me that I could consiously relate to. And I somehow know that while I was shaking it all off in my head, I had a smile on my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the weirdest expriences. To feel like you are two people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-6033275174369153490?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/6033275174369153490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=6033275174369153490' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/6033275174369153490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/6033275174369153490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2007/07/what-was-that.html' title='What was that?'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-1246528973349572271</id><published>2007-07-25T21:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T21:13:20.654-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Contract</title><content type='html'>From six months to a lifetime. Difference lies in one stupid contract thats currently not 'extendable'  by one party.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-1246528973349572271?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/1246528973349572271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=1246528973349572271' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/1246528973349572271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/1246528973349572271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2007/07/contract.html' title='Contract'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-7267600209709093691</id><published>2007-07-20T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T19:48:25.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Plan</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;2 dogs (coz she loves labradors and he pugs)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 TVs (coz he'll want to change to the sports channel and she wont let him change)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 laptops (coz she is addicted to movies and he prefers opening gmail to find someone to chat)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 accounts (coz she is a calculating freak and he will let her be)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 closets (coz she is an organizing cleanliness obsessed maniac and he could care less about his clothes dumped inside the closet)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 sets of kitchen dishes (coz he loves non veg and she wont let him cook using her vessels)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...they might as well live separate!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-7267600209709093691?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/7267600209709093691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=7267600209709093691' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/7267600209709093691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/7267600209709093691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2007/07/plan.html' title='The Plan'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-560042481164879551</id><published>2007-07-19T22:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T22:26:18.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Roger Waters!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;You rocked!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All fears of being flung into the past when you played were just fears afterall...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reality - enjoyed WYWH, good music, fried dough, the lawn, the bare sky (with 3 lone stars) and ogiedogie's company.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-560042481164879551?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/560042481164879551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=560042481164879551' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/560042481164879551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/560042481164879551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2007/07/roger-waters.html' title='Roger Waters!'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-5773549851916025552</id><published>2007-07-19T22:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T22:16:10.522-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>when everything seems perfect&lt;br /&gt;you still search for a defect&lt;br /&gt;You are looking for a reason&lt;br /&gt;just so you can find someone new this season&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My idiot...when will you learn to settle?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-5773549851916025552?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/5773549851916025552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=5773549851916025552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/5773549851916025552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/5773549851916025552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2007/07/when-everything-seems-perfect-you-still.html' title=''/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-2145822258250276310</id><published>2007-06-11T15:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T15:42:49.904-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I was thinking about how when we are younger, we deny that we crave for attention and half the stupid things we do are because of the same reason, while now, after reaching a more mature (no comments encouraged for this word coming from me) age, we are more comfortable about accepting things like these. And its funny that I don't even want as much attention or approval anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm...That is all I was thinking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-2145822258250276310?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/2145822258250276310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=2145822258250276310' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/2145822258250276310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/2145822258250276310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2007/06/thought.html' title='Thought'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-5337982629072811095</id><published>2007-06-10T13:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-10T13:56:16.757-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Look of the Blog</title><content type='html'>BLACK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Black is beautiful&lt;br /&gt;Black is suave&lt;br /&gt;Black is sexy&lt;br /&gt;Recently heard Black saves energy (visit &lt;a href="http://www.blackle.com/about"&gt;www.blackle.com/about)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course because I love Black&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-5337982629072811095?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/5337982629072811095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=5337982629072811095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/5337982629072811095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/5337982629072811095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2007/06/new-look-of-blog.html' title='New Look of the Blog'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-7713205877311392107</id><published>2007-06-07T14:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-07T15:02:21.164-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blah Blah Blah</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;This is a totally random post because first I want to talk about how half the reason I came back into blogging was the need for attention from all the random people who used to read my blog earlier and then now I am going to tell you how much I miss the bandi wala near my old house in Vidyaranyapura (B'lore) who used to make amazing unique chats with things like nippat, peanuts, biscuits, kodbale, kurkure and what not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man! Is that like a long sentence or a long sentence!  I have this habit of trying to put everything into one sentence. One of my friend's friend had a bad time figuring out what the heck I was trying to say over phone.  Since it was the first time (and the last till now) we ever spoke to each other, he just politely (didn't seem to me then) asked me to repeat (twice) and then let it go (by just handing the phone over to my friend without any warning).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's another habit of mine...the whole bracket thing to express my opinion about every word here and there in the long sentences, the whole thing just leading to an even more confusing piece of writing.  Not to mention the growing physical length of these sentences owing to the ellipses...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, there I go again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I didn't even remember to go there (to the chat place, I lost track when I re-read it too) this winter when I was back home.  I loved my house there and my current house doesn't measure up to it in anyway.  I wish we had stayed on there and I still had Minchu (my cat, ya I really don't know why I named him that, btw that means lightning) and the shoe flower tree and the small patch of lavender lilies in the driveway and the huge terrace (seriously, I hate US for not having houses with terrace) and the compound and the gate on which Minchu used to (cat)walk and the mesh on which passion fruit ivy grew.  Not to mention the much calmer roads and easily accessible stores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I definitely do not miss the lizards. If I have to be thankful for my new house, thats probably the only thing.  I do not miss them falling on me or jumping out of the cloth I used to remove off my comp.  The only person who enjoyed them was Minchu because he had loads of fun trying to chase them by running after them on the floor or trying to climb walls or even assume that he can fly up to the tube light to get one of them!  Of course I had fun watching him perform his amazing (unachievable) feats and then look at me with innocent disappointed eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just realized that most of my posts are about the past and how much I miss certain things...sigh...have to learn to live in the present!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh ya...about the first thing I started off about, what I wanted to say was that I am desperate,  so please comment. (Atleast I'll know somebody noticed I am back)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-7713205877311392107?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/7713205877311392107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=7713205877311392107' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/7713205877311392107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/7713205877311392107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2007/06/blah-blah-blah.html' title='Blah Blah Blah'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-3439629944734656377</id><published>2007-06-04T10:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T10:06:23.748-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Old things</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When I go through the list of things that need to be done, I can only see the list growing and absolutely nothing getting ticked off. So many years of making these small chits of paper where  I write down every small little single thing that needs to be done (I think the only things I skip are brushing teeth, eating food, bathing and sleeping, which probably explains why I skip bath once in a while) hasn't taught me that they are quite useless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more you pen down, the more it gets erased out of your memory and just boils down to a function of how often you look at the list and how willing are you to act on any one of them right away, because again, after a couple of hours, its all gone from the head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the semester ended, I was cleaning up my book shelf and I found a couple of them among my papers. I even found one list that had the names of all the people to call before I left India which was one and a half years ago!  The best part is I remembered the day I had made that list.  My best friend had come home to spend some time with me and she had offered to help by writing down the names for me while I was going insane with the amount of things that needed to be done.  And when I look at that list, it reminds me of her lying down lazily on my bed with two pillows up against the wall and the countless memories we had revived and were laughing about, ad mist me freaking of course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, so the list went back among the endless pieces of papers I have preserved, either because they have the handwriting of a loved one or because they have ring sizes drawn which were taken without their knowledge, or because my name appeared along with someone else I had a crush on in one of the school official announcements or simply because those gibberish written words remind me of a particular phase of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While my mom used to threaten to throw away all the junk I collect, I discovered a big old leather bag in the attic which had all of my mom's memories on paper!!  Greeting cards, letters, postcards and photographs that she didn't want to share.  All she does is give me a sheepish smile and then I knew where I had got this habit of collecting things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And still, it was required to give strict clear warnings to people at home about handling all my stuff before I was leaving.  I was quite glad and relieved to see everything intact when I went home for vacations this year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I scooped up a few more things and transported them here.  Obviously, they are absolutely safe only with me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-3439629944734656377?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/3439629944734656377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=3439629944734656377' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/3439629944734656377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/3439629944734656377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2007/06/old-things.html' title='Old things'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-7427457135782591519</id><published>2007-06-02T07:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-02T07:06:41.275-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Language Struggles</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;One of my friends struggles to learn Hindi. Even though my room mate tries to be very (very very) patient with him when he comes up with broken incomprehensive sentences (can hardly call them sentences)...both of us eventually burst out laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tum kahan maine gaadi kab laa rahe ho" (you say mine vehicle when getting) - This is what he came up with after a full 5 minutes of thinking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was absolutely impossible to find out what he was trying to say. Now, after he told us what it was...which was "usne kahan ki uski gaadi kab aayegi" (she asked when she is going to get her vehicle/car),  how could anyone stop oneself from laughing!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makes up for a boring Friday afternoon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-7427457135782591519?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/7427457135782591519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=7427457135782591519' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/7427457135782591519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/7427457135782591519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2007/06/language-struggles.html' title='Language Struggles'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-5930675379118858541</id><published>2007-06-01T10:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T10:54:35.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend Trip</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;First beach visit in US was a huge disappointment. Except for fancy names and fantastic descriptions, there was nothing more there. It looked like a miniature model of a beach, only, a bad replica.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The view was cut by a small piece of land big enough to block what I was hoping to stare into - endlessness. The beach from the road to the water was short, the sand was coarse, the water murky and the one thing that marks a sea, waves...were missing!! It was a man made tank of water with sand sprinkled around it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much for Pleasure Bay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I remembered and missed my hometown with its beautiful lonely untouched beach. And the evenings spent by the gate watching the light house shine its light turn by turn in each of the four directions. To imagine that the beautiful house might not be there when I go back is just so painful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-5930675379118858541?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/5930675379118858541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=5930675379118858541' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/5930675379118858541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/5930675379118858541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2007/06/weekend-trip.html' title='Weekend Trip'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-3530636734373084369</id><published>2007-05-31T18:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T18:42:16.681-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Indulgences</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you spend a little too much on the things that are not considered necessity, but just one of the many ways to satisfy impulses, there are so many things one says to oneself to avoid the  guilt. (Its a different matter that I can always show how these small(?) indulgences are a necessity).  So, what I told myself when I shopped for...ahem...a considerable sum of money was the excuse that I am being paid double over the summer and hence can afford the luxury.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only the guilt over weighed the excuses! I went twice more to the mall that week! (Not to mention twice the money I gave away to noble causes such as draping oneself in pieces of clothes that are sewn together in different ways).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I realized I haven't even got the first paycheck for summer! This realization dawned only  when I saw my credit card bill which I hadn't checked for a while. I have never waited so badly for  pay day to arrive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bah! Its okay. After all,  smart (and big :-) ) wardrobes come with a price...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-3530636734373084369?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/3530636734373084369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=3530636734373084369' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/3530636734373084369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/3530636734373084369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2007/05/indulgences.html' title='Indulgences'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-8766967160371957206</id><published>2007-03-04T12:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-04T12:54:28.895-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hunger in Uganda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hp6F74TfxAE/ResxnXRNNkI/AAAAAAAAAAg/bQQZK6xrcNk/s1600-h/image010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hp6F74TfxAE/ResxnXRNNkI/AAAAAAAAAAg/bQQZK6xrcNk/s320/image010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038175160474875458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there were no words...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-8766967160371957206?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/8766967160371957206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=8766967160371957206' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/8766967160371957206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/8766967160371957206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2007/03/hunger-in-uganda-and-there-were-no.html' title=''/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_hp6F74TfxAE/ResxnXRNNkI/AAAAAAAAAAg/bQQZK6xrcNk/s72-c/image010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-116582447729324729</id><published>2006-12-11T00:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-11T00:14:24.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Having listened to the same advice from three different people in the last month and that same advice vigorously supported by some of my friends, I am in probably the most confused state of my life. It being messy, which is nothing different from the otherwise "nothing is right" state of life, I am only trying to let go of a fantasy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turning 24 is not a very pleasant stage in life. Not being in your early twenties is so hard. Just so darn hard! I think I want to be 21 again. 21 was the best year of my life. Last year of college, good friends who were all in the same city, realization of what I actually like in my subject, a job in hand, bike rides, laughter, love, separation, pain, promises...perfect combination!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, this day...three years down the line, still in college, have good friends all living close by, still want to do the same thing, car drives, laughter, separation, pain...the same things, but still everything has changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-116582447729324729?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/116582447729324729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=116582447729324729' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/116582447729324729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/116582447729324729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/12/having-listened-to-same-advice-from.html' title=''/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-116094935662463166</id><published>2006-10-15T14:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T00:17:52.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When you are browsing aimlessly</title><content type='html'>&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#999999" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Should Be A Poet&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#CCCCCC"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whattypeofwritershouldyoubequiz/poet.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You craft words well, in creative and unexpected ways.&lt;br /&gt;And you have a great talent for evoking beautiful imagery...&lt;br /&gt;Or describing the most intense heartbreak ever.&lt;br /&gt;You're already naturally a poet, even if you've never written a poem.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whattypeofwritershouldyoubequiz/"&gt;What Type of Writer Should You Be?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-116094935662463166?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/116094935662463166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=116094935662463166' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/116094935662463166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/116094935662463166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/10/when-you-are-browsing-aimlessly.html' title='When you are browsing aimlessly'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-115903977101469698</id><published>2006-09-23T12:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-23T12:38:21.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;How about we meet for some coffee?&lt;br /&gt;I promise I wont look into your eyes&lt;br /&gt;All that they would tell me&lt;br /&gt;Dont worry, I wont listen&lt;br /&gt;We'll sit next to each other&lt;br /&gt;so that you dont have to face pain&lt;br /&gt;Maybe when I bend down on your face&lt;br /&gt;You could turn away and miss that kiss you so need&lt;br /&gt;Maybe when I try to hold your hand&lt;br /&gt;You could slip away yours so that you wont feel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-115903977101469698?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/115903977101469698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=115903977101469698' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115903977101469698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115903977101469698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/09/how-about-we-meet-for-some-coffee-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-115835277013564544</id><published>2006-09-15T13:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-15T13:39:30.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When its low-time</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I am the most pathetic consoler that Nature could have ever created. I truly believe that its an art to pacify someone crying. Most of the times, I pray that the person doesn't breakdown for his and my own good. Selfish you might think, but it has done noone good to cry in front of me. While a comforting shoulder is what one expects, all they get are horribly made up jokes or some crude advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the things you might not want to do -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Hug them - I got the weirdest looks back when I tried this. So, unless they lean forward indicating they literally need your shoulder to cry on, dont try anything. Maybe warning them ahead or imposing on them that they do require a hug would be a good idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Tell them everything is going to be ok - A raised/angry voice -- "If I knew that, would I cry"?, Very-scary stares, intensity of crying increased and many more such disastrous results obtained!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Tell them eating icecream will make them feel better - Dont you dare laugh at this idea of mine, it works on me! Atleast I thought that the idea would seem absurd enough for the person to smile a little if nothing else. So...point is, not everyone gets excited about food. (I thought it helps to eat more when you are depressed...whoever said that! Seriously, these days there are too many people out there making statements).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Questioning them - Awww...what happened? - No no no no...never ever ask them this question. It makes them think of what happened and they cry louder. Well, I cant really solve someone's problem unless I know what the problem is, right? Took a few years, but realized that they dont expect you to solve anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Saying "See its not like ...'some other worse possible thing' happened right"? - Ya right, that was very pacifying! If they didn't think this was the worst thing that could happen to them, they wouldn't be in the current state would they! This one got one of the worst reactions. A 'why-am-I-even-crying-to-you" stare followed by the person just walking away into another room!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess one of my worst reactions to someone crying was when I couldn't stand this person in so much pain and instead of consoling him, I started crying. It so happened that eventually he ended up consoling me! I am sure he went..."what the ---- just happened"? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess if you are like me, not so good with timing and words, the best thing to do would be to just sit there (nod a lil if they are trying to say something) and maybe...maybe hold his/her hand. I think wiping their tears also is an ok. Dont do it often though, trust me, they want to see it drop into their hands or laps or clothes or whatever it is in front of them. And oh ya...saying "Shhhh" also might work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many people out there wanting to do some good to the world and its people, why don't they start some crash course on how to be a good consoler!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-115835277013564544?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/115835277013564544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=115835277013564544' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115835277013564544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115835277013564544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/09/when-its-low-time.html' title='When its low-time'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-115825290949840541</id><published>2006-09-14T09:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-15T13:39:55.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Two paths to choose from&lt;br /&gt;And I took the one that lead to you&lt;br /&gt;Only to find it an illusion&lt;br /&gt;You were never there,&lt;br /&gt;For you lived in the present and I in the future&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-115825290949840541?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/115825290949840541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=115825290949840541' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115825290949840541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115825290949840541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/09/two-paths-to-choose-from-and-i-took.html' title=''/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-115769038867681469</id><published>2006-09-07T21:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T21:39:48.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sleep, Attention, Food, Dance, New Clothes, Cake, Practice...invigorating!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-115769038867681469?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/115769038867681469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=115769038867681469' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115769038867681469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115769038867681469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/09/sleep-attention-food-dance-new-clothes.html' title=''/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-115534831172362491</id><published>2006-08-11T19:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-11T19:07:06.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'>:)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ok...after deep, sad, nonsensical, strange and "what the hell was that" kinda posts, time for some normal writings. I tried my hand at writing a poem. Alright alright, laugh all you want, but hey!! I could manage 4 lines that made atleast me think they were funny. So not really bad for a start. Actually, I have written poems before when I was a kid, they were about seas, skies, flowers, pups and birds. The only remotely mature poem that I wrote was about the desert which ran for 16 lines and where I havent made much efforts to make the last words of every two lines rhyme!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Past 15 days flew by, they were happy fun filled days. Thats all it takes...friends around you to make u fall in love with your life all over! Various trips, activities (no comments on the nature of these), some good cooking leading to good food, silly fights, boredom, contemplations, laughter, sharing secrets, some reading, wild dreams in the early morn, party, staring at a star filled sky, finding two shooting stars, people thinking I am out of my mind...what more do you want? (I would have preferred it sans the last one perhaps). Yes! Life is good again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh since "I" thought that the poem about the desert was mature, I sent it to a magazine for publication. So, when I open an envelope that has arrived a few days later expecting to find a check, I see the letter that I have repeatedly seen at different circumstances in my life until now...."We regret to inform you...."! Oh the "regret" letter! We are all quite familiar with that arent we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-115534831172362491?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/115534831172362491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=115534831172362491' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115534831172362491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115534831172362491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/08/blog-post.html' title=':)'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-115362684486797050</id><published>2006-07-22T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-22T20:54:39.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Her World</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;She lived in her world where she heard noone, she saw noone. The existence of a being in the real world was what a dream is to us. It touched her ever so slightly, but not enough to cause an impression. She was protected, well fed, peaceful and content. She was attached to reality through just a cord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she decided to connect. Mistake. It was just the beginning. She learnt how to feel. She understood fear, misery, pain. She was taught what morals, justice, traditions and rules were. She learnt to hate, to envy. She knew what trust, faith and love were. She suffered, she rejoiced, she sinned, she repented, she failed, she tried harder, she gained, she lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She doesnt remember what her world was like, but she knows it was better than the one she is living in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wish I was still in my mother's womb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-115362684486797050?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/115362684486797050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=115362684486797050' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115362684486797050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115362684486797050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/07/her-world.html' title='Her World'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-115354165272797783</id><published>2006-07-21T21:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-22T20:28:07.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Decisions</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;What do you do when you are dissapointed with someone? Lash out at him? Ignore him? Teach him? Hate him? Still love him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days back, I saw utter dissapointment in someone's eyes. He is going to live with it his entire life. He doesnt have a choice. I felt he deserved better. There is not a thing I can do now, but maybe if I had taken a particular decision long back, his life would have been altered completely...at the cost of my happiness probably. There has to be always one side which loses. Everyone cannot win. He lost then...and I lost now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-115354165272797783?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/115354165272797783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=115354165272797783' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115354165272797783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115354165272797783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/07/decisions.html' title='Decisions'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-115344733747322375</id><published>2006-07-20T19:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-20T19:12:46.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Photograph</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When I picked up a special edition of National Geographic of 100 best pictures, I expected to look at 100 photographs and end up in awe. It was not going to be so. Those 100 pictures made me go through so many different emotions, I dont think I have ever felt all of it within a span of an hour!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one picture that is going to remain in my memories, is that of a woman from Somalia who looked very close to a skeleton. I cannot forget her bare arm which wasnt covered by her clothes. She wasnt looking into the camera, I wish she was. I wanted to look into her eyes and see what lies there. Desperation? Hunger? Sadness? Frustration? Hope?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moments like these bring you back to reality. Reality that many of us opt to live out of. While I was talking about it to someone, he made me realize that some things in life, like this photograph does make us come back to reality, but then dont we always go back to our happy world? Its the people who are moved enough to take action that make a diffrence to this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was sympathy, fury, sadness, helplessness and a lot more that I felt, but two days later, I know these feelings wont be as strong. The thought that I am going to continue living my life and die without making any difference to this f***ed up world makes me feel so worthless right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-115344733747322375?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/115344733747322375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=115344733747322375' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115344733747322375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115344733747322375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/07/photograph.html' title='A Photograph'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-115280111856680577</id><published>2006-07-13T07:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-13T07:31:58.580-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Yesterday was something like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eyes opening to the afternoon sun, panic, getting dressed in a record time of 15 mins, one look into the mirror...more panic, almost a heart attack...looked like a drab (see this is why girls need more time to get dressed...for their own good health), realized the extra fast dressing up was nothing to be proud of, sulked for 5 minutes, then realized that there is not one single person in this town who I really care to dress for (ya ya..dont give me the...you should do this for yourself crap...it gets boring when noone notices u when u look all nice and sexy).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, dragged myself to the lab (ok...not really, went by bus today too...my bike calls out to me every morning, but it says "you need to lose weight..so use me", now that isnt tempting enough for me to get on it, is it?). Sitting in the lab, eagerly waited for the clock to strike 4...why? Coz I was going to finally use the squash racket that has been lying unused for nearly a month (yayy! the things that one derives pleasure from)! Ok...it turned 5 and my friend is still at home...and after 5 I cannot stay in the lab (some rule my mind has made up without consulting me), so I go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then...finally the best thing happens...my friend knocks on the door and she is dripping wet. Before I can react, she drags me out into the rain! So...we take our bikes out (my bike must have been soo happy that I finally rode it) and bike around in the heavy rain around the residential areas...all the way to campus. I smiled at everyone who stared at us from under umbrellas and inside cars! There was nothing or noone I cared about at that instant. I came home dripping and stood in front of the mirror...grey pyjamas sticking to my legs, home slippers on my feet, wet hair that stuck to my odd shaped head, a stupid pink band that held the hair together, green shirt that didnt look too flattering when it clung like that to my body...but, I think I was happy enough to think I looked better than I did in the morning! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-115280111856680577?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/115280111856680577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=115280111856680577' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115280111856680577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115280111856680577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/07/yesterday-was-something-like-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-115273128328313220</id><published>2006-07-12T12:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T12:08:03.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mind Blowing...literally! I saw pieces of his brain scattered around and blood splashed everywhere. I didnt shut my eyes or flinch or puke. I just kept looking and after a full 5 minutes fainted!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when I woke up, I was in my bed at home and I realized it was just a dream but then my next nightmare wasnt too far away. It was 12 noon and once again I had woken up late...one of these days I am going to be thrown out of my workplace!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-115273128328313220?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/115273128328313220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=115273128328313220' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115273128328313220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115273128328313220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/07/mind-blowing.html' title=''/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-115272464121093204</id><published>2006-07-12T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T11:03:49.433-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A deep sadness. Does it exist? Only when I think it does, only when people ask me about you, only when I experience something beautiful and want to share it with you, only when I want my best friend to talk about my fears to, only when you are not around, but only that, thats pretty much all the time... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-115272464121093204?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/115272464121093204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=115272464121093204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115272464121093204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115272464121093204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/07/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-115264024058277160</id><published>2006-07-11T10:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T11:14:33.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'>People...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Studying people is like going into Alice's wonderland...every character is so unique, so strange, the existence of each of them seeps into you and sometimes you dont have a choice but to let some of them affect you. Its the ones that dont matter that turn out to be more interesting because its interesting finding out why they dont like you. Its so much fun to know that you affect them in some way enough for them to stay away from you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-115264024058277160?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/115264024058277160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=115264024058277160' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115264024058277160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115264024058277160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/07/people.html' title='People...'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-115253990124213215</id><published>2006-07-10T06:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-10T06:58:21.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;One...two...three...maybe four? What a pathetic life when u r down to counting how many ppl other than family care for u! Oh so what? There are many more people coming into my life right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like they say...you let go of somethings thinking you have lots of time to make that perfect connection with someone...but as you grow older you look back and wonder if you took the right decision...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-115253990124213215?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/115253990124213215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=115253990124213215' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115253990124213215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115253990124213215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/07/one.html' title=''/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-115250708250252030</id><published>2006-07-09T21:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-09T21:51:22.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I wrote this story once about adventure and love and never completed it. Some people reminded me...asking me to complete it, but I think I never can anymore, because one of the things its about cannot be somehow included in the story and the story is just point blank useless without it. I dont want to write another story that leaves you with..."it only happpens in movies and stories" kinda feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Illusions! Sigh...wouldnt want to help others have them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you know what I mean...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good things happen only in movies, stories and to other people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-115250708250252030?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/115250708250252030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=115250708250252030' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115250708250252030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115250708250252030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-wrote-this-story-once-about.html' title=''/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-115247077560951900</id><published>2006-07-09T11:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-09T11:46:15.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Wish I knew what would move you...wish I knew why you behave like a stranger...wish I never wondered about you...but I just dont know why some part of my brain still ponders...maybe you succeeded in getting what you want...my attention! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-115247077560951900?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/115247077560951900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=115247077560951900' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115247077560951900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115247077560951900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/07/wish-i-knew-what-would-move-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-115240635145802202</id><published>2006-07-08T17:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-08T17:52:31.473-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He:&lt;/span&gt; Have u been in love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;She:&lt;/span&gt; What do u think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He:&lt;/span&gt; I think you have been in and out of it enough times to never fall for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;She: &lt;/span&gt;I wish you were right...about the second part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-115240635145802202?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/115240635145802202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=115240635145802202' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115240635145802202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115240635145802202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/07/he-have-u-been-in-love-she-what-do-u.html' title=''/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-115240162333525455</id><published>2006-07-08T16:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-08T16:33:43.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>huh?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Have u ever felt so many thoughts rushing into ur head that you want to scream out loud "STOP"! But they wont go away, you will anyway think about them all, go crazy, curse yourself, curse all those people, get back to sorting them out, but eventually give up and end up a lil more insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then you wonder why you let it happen to you, but then you dont want to ignore and push away the thoughts to a corner in your mind, because thats the exact thing that you have been doing and you finally want to deal with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Final result: Introspection, taking decisions to be stronger, shouting "screw you" to ugly things in life and a multimillion minutes later...thinking that these thoughts are wasting my time, making me think of depressing things so just ignore them! Basically back to square one, I am never going to change! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-115240162333525455?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/115240162333525455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=115240162333525455' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115240162333525455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115240162333525455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/07/huh.html' title='huh?'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-115163050294877348</id><published>2006-06-29T18:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-29T18:22:42.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Quite blank these days...the mind. Apart from day dreaming, I am doing quite a few things that I enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking about day dreams, I was recollecting the various situations and stories I have made up in my head, rather dreamed of...and I just realized that they have all come true! These are not dreams which are beyond my control, but dreams 'I' weave in my consciousness. Thoughts that I think of, scenes I make up in my head. It is possibly the most freakiest feeling when u realize that what you think of can actually happen! You gain a huge amount of control over your life. It becomes quite important now to actually think of the consequences before I weave these stories. What scares me more is that even though this is centered around me, I have references to people I know in my stories and what happens to them in the story actually happens to them in real life. I know it is hard to believe for anyone, but I am right now choosing to ignore this so that I can live in peace. I cannot stop dreaming because it so much an integral part of me, I would be left with a huge loss. I know that is where I can retreat to when I am uncomfortable or bored or angry or sad, because my world always keeps me happy. It makes me go through all the tests of pain in life, but its my story and it always has a happy ending (though I cant remember a single story which I have chosen to end). If I look at the various events around me, I can relate everything to all these different scenes I have already thought of at one point of time or the other!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is probably one more of those things that people will never believe...just like the time I said I could mentally communicate with animals! (Ohh I did realize that I couldnt afterall after a few weeks)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of all the things I've lost I miss my mind the most" - Ozzy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-115163050294877348?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/115163050294877348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=115163050294877348' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115163050294877348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115163050294877348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/06/day-dreams.html' title='Day Dreams'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-115078195728254170</id><published>2006-06-19T22:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-19T22:58:14.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Train Journeys</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Its been a while since I travelled by train. The last time I went, it caused some strain on my mental and physical health. Since I was travelling alone and I didnt want to fall asleep, it was quite a fight between the body and the mind. The only reason I had mustered the courage for that was because that was the only way (not really, I could have booked a day train for the 6 hr journey) to be back in someone's arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apart from one particular event, I have loved travelling by train and it was always fun with a huge family circle making so much noise, playing cards and cracking the most horrible jokes! One of the usual events used to be a fight between my brother and me for the seat by the window. There was this time when we took our dog by train and by the 'rule' (to give in to the younger one's wishes), both of us had to let him sit there by the window (with his nose butting out) to stop all the yelling (sorry, barking) and fuss he was creating!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 40 something hours of travel from Delhi to Mangalore during the summer hols was quite a pain. After fighting, threatening and also trying to bribe my brother, none of which would work in getting to sit by the window, I would normally go to the upper berth and lie down with a novel. The other reason for that was to avoid the crowd that had these deep stares for me just coz I was a girl. Atleast, in a particularly painful position up there, you could hide away from the stares of most of them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine this...u are so close to reaching your destination after a filthy travel of almost 2 sweaty days...and there has been some confusion with the schedules of crossings! So...the result: we reach 6 hours late! And it was those days when you unconditionally loved all your relatives, so I was really upset that we reached so late coz one of my uncles was leaving the same night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the things are so typical that anyone who has travelled in trains in India would be able to relate to it. Like, the unbearable stench of the bathrooms after a day of travel, the water supply dissapearing (and having to run to the other end of the compartment to wash hands), railway employees carrying the chai coffee canteens, churmuri, peanuts, cold drink sellers..., someone waking you up to ask if you want to order the night's meals, buttermilk packets, a bunch of guys always hanging out at the end of a compartment sitting near the door, families opening dabbas of food and snacks, kids crying (this one has to be there when I travel).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think two of the the best things about those journeys were...one...I loved looking out the window feeling the wind on my face and see the sceneries and the daylight change colours. Second...it was probably the only time when I actually sat and talked to my parents! Back home, mom and I were always pissed with each other and would have sworn never to talk to each other! It was so much fun playing games and chatting with them on the train, the value of which I realize only now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so many more memories linked to train journeys that I could write atleast another 7 paragraphs (I did count the events in my head before coming up with that number!), but I wont.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason I went about thinking of train journeys was because, right now someone close to the heart is sitting in one and enduring the almost 2 days long journey back to his home. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-115078195728254170?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/115078195728254170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=115078195728254170' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115078195728254170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/115078195728254170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/06/train-journeys.html' title='Train Journeys'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-114964067839643618</id><published>2006-06-06T17:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-08T09:55:11.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Do Lists</title><content type='html'>Almost the whole world has a "to do list".&lt;br /&gt;Everyone these days seems to want to --&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Lose some weight (everyone wants to exercise, but never finds the time to)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Learn to play guitar! - almost everyone who doesnt know how to play an instrument always is saying I need to join guitar classes, why not some other instrument?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Learn French - why is it always French? Why not lebanese or Chinese or arabic?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Do volunteer work for the poor/disabled&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- Improve in time management (Everyone is talking about how they need to find some time to do all the things they wanted to do )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Go on an Europe tour (This one is on top of the list! Why not kenya or something?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Dance like nobody is watching&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Take life less seriously&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I never said I am not one among everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-114964067839643618?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/114964067839643618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=114964067839643618' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114964067839643618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114964067839643618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/06/to-do-lists.html' title='To Do Lists'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-114964036305996919</id><published>2006-06-06T17:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-06T17:32:43.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When I walked in</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;An empty house, a cluttered hallway, a blank wall, new furniture...strange feelings...changes...sigh...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-114964036305996919?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/114964036305996919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=114964036305996919' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114964036305996919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114964036305996919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/06/when-i-walked-in.html' title='When I walked in'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-114957727103140384</id><published>2006-06-06T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-06T00:02:35.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Break ups</title><content type='html'>I hear my friend tell me she broke up coz he was being a total Ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I wondered...Has a guy ever broken up because he cudnt take anymore crap from 'her'?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-114957727103140384?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/114957727103140384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=114957727103140384' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114957727103140384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114957727103140384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/06/break-ups.html' title='Break ups'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-114837179153389474</id><published>2006-05-23T01:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-23T23:19:33.436-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Looking back</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Looking back, one semester is over and what have I done? Absolutely none of the things I wanted to! I gained a few things (apart from weight), lost a few things, so life evened it out for me. I woudnt have it any other way. No regrets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Realizations/ Lessons (lessons re-learnt) ---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- that everyone isnt what they seem (for a change on the capabilities of a person on a professional level)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- that you are out on ur own in this world (Friends,parents, realtives, boyfriends...none of them can help u when u have an insane uncontrollable mind)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- that being and acting deperate and crying for it doesnt help u get back anything (only worked when u were a kid and just the first few times with a new boyfriend until he gets smarter)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- that there is noone out there who I cant get bored with&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- that patience doesnt help u in anyway (who passed on these thoughts anyway), the only thing that helps in maintaining a relation is change of perspective towards the person, u can tolerate the most boring/irritating person if u want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- that I still suck at time management (but so does a majority of the world)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- that I do like changes (contrary to what I said long back on the blog abt hating it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- that I am capable of being and staying angry (something I had lost somewhere out there) and feeling all the other dark feelings of human nature and I have no idea why the thought of inflicting pain gives me joy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- that I am strong enough to handle some of the things I never thought I could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- that I am made up of more substance than I thought I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- that I really do not miss so many people I thought I would (or should?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- that no matter what has gone wrong or right because I came here, its going to do me a lot of good eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;U wait until u finish ur exams so that u can sleep all u want and what happens? U cant sleep on the day its over. Life sucks. But what the hell, life can go take a hike!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-114837179153389474?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/114837179153389474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=114837179153389474' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114837179153389474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114837179153389474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/05/looking-back.html' title='Looking back'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-114784609396416745</id><published>2006-05-16T22:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-16T23:36:53.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Marriage Fever</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;XYZ:&lt;/span&gt; So, have you thought about marriage?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me: &lt;/span&gt;Umm..hmm..aahh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;XYZ:&lt;/span&gt; So when are you getting married?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt; (What the...u impatient thing, cant u wait till I find an asnwer?)&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;br /&gt;        but instead say...well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;XYZ:&lt;/span&gt; I am going to finish my Masters and then I am considering PhD, so maybe after that,                   depending on.....blah blah..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt; (I dont want to know your future plans, know what? I can predict it for u, You wont do                   your Phd,u'll find a 100k paying job and marry a girl who gets some more money for you)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       Ahh...seems like a well thought plan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;XYZ:&lt;/span&gt; Well ya, I believe in knowing what you want and working towards it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt; (ya...thats right, and the rest of the world doesnt believe that at all)&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;       Thats very nice, I am sure you will succeed (I REALLY could have thought of something             better)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;XYZ:&lt;/span&gt; So you didnt tell me your marriage plans? So, parents have started the pressurizing and                all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt; (U creature from a different planet, did you give me a chance?)&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;        I actually decided not to think about it, coz...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;XYZ:&lt;/span&gt; I think one should have a chalked out plan in mind you know, about everything&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me: &lt;/span&gt;AArrrghh....abt marriage? Thats something that will just happen when the time comes rt?         (Even though I hate the "right thing happening at the right time" dialogue)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;XYZ:&lt;/span&gt; So abt your parents?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt; Oh ya...no...they are not like all other relatives of mine (thank god)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;XYZ:&lt;/span&gt; Is that coz u have found someone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt; (huh? whaaaat? You actually want to know if I have a boyfriend, dont you?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      Do u really know when u find someone? Isnt it all but an illusion? You think this is what you       want, but....blah blah (If he cud torture me to mindless endless what nots, what better way        of getting rid of him)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      (Didnt work)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;XYZ:&lt;/span&gt; I think you should get married after your Masters...you know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt; (No I dont know! And  I dont want you saying another word, or all that hair on your head             will dissapear in 2 minutes)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       Why do you think so?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;XYZ:&lt;/span&gt; Because you arent getting any younger and guys out there want younger girls as their                   wives you know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt; (The "you know" was getting on my nerves apart from everything else that was being                 uttered...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       Calm down, calm down, not worth it...its all about controlling ones mind...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       I know what you should do, get married right away. You know why? because, you arent             getting any younger yourself and you arent going to look any better, if only worse in a few         years. And you know something else, I think girls wont like you at any age! So, just grab the         one that says yes (if you are lucky) and dont let her go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;        Did I say it? Of course not! Am not really the "I dont care what people think about me"                 kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       Hmm...I dont know about that...heyy...I gotta go, have a class in 5 mins. (And pray to God         you never meet me again coz I am going to say all I think the next time)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Something is wrong with the world! Why is everyone I know either busy thinking about marriage or getting into one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-114784609396416745?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/114784609396416745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=114784609396416745' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114784609396416745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114784609396416745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/05/marriage-fever_16.html' title='The Marriage Fever'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-114713482194478506</id><published>2006-05-08T17:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T17:33:42.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Before the darkness sets in</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;As I looked up from my book, I saw something so beautiful in front of my eyes, I was turned into a statue. Across the window was a mix of such lovely colours, it seemed like I was inside a fairy tale! Sunset never had made me feel so exuberant and peaceful before. As the orange merged into a pink in the distance, the first thing that occured to me was to get hold of a camera. And then someone's words rang in my ears about how obsessed I am with my camera and how I spend enough time running around taking pictures to miss the whole experience! For once, I thought I should listen to his words and just sit there and look at it. The colours kept changing from a bright shade to a dull one until violet spread across the horizon merging into the blue sky. The flaming colors of orange and pink had come down and looked like there was fire burning in a far far away land which somehow reminded me of Rumpelstiltskin dancing around the fire!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After ages, I observed both sunrise and sunset on the same day! I will not go into the details of how I spent the rest of the time inbetween blisfully in sleep!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-114713482194478506?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/114713482194478506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=114713482194478506' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114713482194478506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114713482194478506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/05/before-darkness-sets-in.html' title='Before the darkness sets in'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-114659642900997496</id><published>2006-05-02T11:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-02T12:00:29.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wish I knew what to change</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Why does every song suit my situation in some way or the other, why have I started noticing every line in them and why do I sit and figure out the meaning of every song? A song was just a song...it was music that gave me happiness, peace and relaxation. Now its so much more, they are so closely related to my memories. No matter how I enqueue up the songs, its always a song that suits my mood that plays! Or is it my mood that changes with the music?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this time, some of the day to day things have started having a deeper effect...a deeper meaning. I think its just the mind thats working overtime!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I hate Ozzy for making me fall in love with his songs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-114659642900997496?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/114659642900997496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=114659642900997496' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114659642900997496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114659642900997496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/05/wish-i-knew-what-to-change.html' title='Wish I knew what to change'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-114621424034009009</id><published>2006-04-28T01:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T08:32:51.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An untitled chapter of life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;4.30 in the night (or if u want to call it morning)...Deep Thoughts, a few dreams shattered and depressing music...all of them together are keeping me awake. Its time to lie down on the bed, to close the tired eyes, to give rest to the fear inside. But there will be a morning and there will be a pair of eyes that will open to a new day and there is the mind that will remind them of the reality filling them with tears. New fears will form, panic will strike, helplessness will seep in...turning into sadness and eventually getting buried somewhere deep inside. The anger is receding and love is replacing it. Strange are the mechanisms of handling pain. The soul questions itself where everything went wrong, why it went wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the most wonderful things are just never meant to be...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-114621424034009009?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/114621424034009009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=114621424034009009' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114621424034009009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114621424034009009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/04/untitled-chapter-of-life.html' title='An untitled chapter of life'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-114585699505203619</id><published>2006-04-23T22:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T22:36:35.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There she goes....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Thats the song that comes to my mind when she goes off on a tangent in her life. She thinks she can go on with her life smiling at everyone and winning over people. Does she ever stop to think that the bad bad world could just swallow her right now?! She says..."Ahh Do I care, I am nice to people, so they are going to be nice too". How much more naive can a woman be? Well, once she told me that her life is so messed up that she thinks she can never be serious ever! I wish I could change her, open her eyes to the reality and tell her that everything will never be ok in the end, so learn to face it. I know I cant help her because she wont listen to me, she is stubborn and she doesnt like me much. Someday, when her tolerance level has been crossed, she will put an end to the nonsense in her life and I know I will be a very happy soul that day!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-114585699505203619?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/114585699505203619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=114585699505203619' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114585699505203619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114585699505203619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/04/there-she-goes.html' title='There she goes....'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-114448037974601914</id><published>2006-04-08T00:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-08T00:12:59.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hmmm</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;2.30 in the night, a cup of tea in my hand, keys being pressed away to put down thoughts on paper, eyes droopy and lots of girl talk (with one guy around who probably feels totally out of place right now)! Mind wandering, thinking about the one hundred and seventeen choices I have right now. The left portion of the brain says go for anything, really doesnt matter, but the right one says, pick the seventy seventh. Seems like I have to wait for the brain to reach an equilibrium. Life is hard with so many choices to make, do I pick the spinach filled pasta or the cheese one, do I settle on the comfy couch which is never going to let me get up to even get a glass of water or on the hard floor and shift positions every two minutes to avoid pain in the wrong place? Do I choose the cute pup as the wallpaper or the kitten? Do I play 'Romeo and Juliet' or 'Reason'? Well, quite a few difficult choices, but then there are the easy ones too which save your day!   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-114448037974601914?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/114448037974601914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=114448037974601914' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114448037974601914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114448037974601914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/04/hmmm.html' title='Hmmm'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-114404623605772550</id><published>2006-04-02T23:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-02T23:37:16.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dedicated to a friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;She tells me....hang on, dont make hasty decisions. She tells me...you deserve much more, why are you putting up with this? She tells me...for gods sake, get ur self-ego up! She tells...sometimes everything is wrong, but hold on. She gives me advice, she protects me, she cares for me, she can actually feel the pain I go through. She knows what I mean when I say, "Life sucks"! She hears my endless cribbing and she hates it when I cry. There's a lot more I could write about, but I know no words would be enough to express it all here. I am glad we get to choose atleast some of the relations in life.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-114404623605772550?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/114404623605772550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=114404623605772550' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114404623605772550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114404623605772550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/04/dedicated-to-friend.html' title='Dedicated to a friend'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-114396345947911457</id><published>2006-04-01T23:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-04-01T23:37:39.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blackhole</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Life shatters away and you are left standing there as though that part never belonged to you. You try to catch the bits and pieces to gather and glue them together, but the cracks are going to be always there. The heart bleeds, the mind does irrational things, eyes sting with tears and hands wrap around you trying to protect you from pain. But soon you realize its futile. The only way you can come out of this is if you turn your heart into stone and never feel a thing ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-114396345947911457?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/114396345947911457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=114396345947911457' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114396345947911457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114396345947911457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/04/blackhole.html' title='Blackhole'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-114394000135071067</id><published>2006-04-01T17:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-04-01T17:06:41.363-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;If you offer me a bag of gold coins, if you give me a diamond ring or if you give me hope, happiness, love or promises, I wouldnt walk behind you. I wouldnt let you make me walk ahead either. All I want is to walk beside you, to take those steps together, to reach the peak of that mountain at the same time, to look up from a book and catch both of us staring at the rain outside the window and to open eyes from sleep at the same time to find us still beside each other! It stings to realize that this dream will never come true...ever...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Never thought I’d feel like this&lt;br /&gt;Strange to be alone, yeah&lt;br /&gt;But we’ll be together&lt;br /&gt;Carved in stone,&lt;br /&gt;When I see you, I'll see you on the other side&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-114394000135071067?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/114394000135071067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=114394000135071067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114394000135071067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114394000135071067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/04/if-you-offer-me-bag-of-gold-coins-if.html' title=''/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-114393261161692201</id><published>2006-04-01T14:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-04-01T15:03:31.616-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So you think you can tell heaven from hell?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I believe one of the worst things in life is getting attached to people. You always end up losing some part of you. I lost sanity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Which is quite evident in all that I wrote in the previous post, I have never been so randomn in any of the posts before I guess)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;                                    ------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;How I wish, how I wish you were here.&lt;br /&gt;We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl,&lt;br /&gt;year after year,&lt;br /&gt;Running over the same old ground.&lt;br /&gt;What have you found? The same old fears.&lt;br /&gt;Wish you were here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-114393261161692201?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/114393261161692201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=114393261161692201' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114393261161692201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114393261161692201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/04/so-you-think-you-can-tell-heaven-from.html' title='So you think you can tell heaven from hell?'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-114393192546712462</id><published>2006-04-01T14:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-04-01T15:05:50.973-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sense(less)?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I probably look at the world through rose tinted glasses and have a picture of a wonderful world where you always get what you deserve.  Call it foolishness or over handed optimism, this is my way of living my life. The only thing that matters in life is happiness. Hope is the most wonderful thing on this earth.  If hope gives me happiness, what sounds so wrong about it? Isnt it the present that matters the most to anyone? Tomorrow is nothing but a dream, a future that one should not worry about. You live on hope, dream the most wonderful dreams and make the most of your present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never took life seriously. I have never thought of life as something where one has to struggle to get through it. You have one life and you live it anyway...no matter what you do, what kind of decisions you take or what kind of blunders you make, you will live through it all because really...its not so easy to end your life. Death is scary. When I am going to die, its going to be scary not for me, but for all those people who love me. I think if I knew I were to die, I would just go away. I dont want to be with anyone, I want to experience freedom, feel free from all relationship ties, dont want to really care for anyone or feel love or hatred or jealousy. I want to flush out all that from inside and feel light. And if none of this is possible, 2 shots of tequila should be good enough!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-114393192546712462?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/114393192546712462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=114393192546712462' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114393192546712462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114393192546712462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/04/senseless.html' title='Sense(less)?'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-114360390510495206</id><published>2006-03-28T19:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-28T19:45:05.116-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Making Decisions</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;One of my friends recently asked me how I know that the guy I think I love is the one for me. The conversation went on with me answering.."u know..." most of the times. And her saying, "Ya I know..."!! We didnt reach any conclusion or rules to classify ones feelings, but it got me thinking  later and I asked myself what made me decide that. If anyone met me before I fell for this guy, they would not believe I have settled for one guy in my life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I know I cherish this relationship because I have never felt restricted, I have never felt the need for a better friend, never wanted a different way to be loved, never wanted someone else to touch me, never wanted to be with someone else, never wanted to share those special moments with anyone else, never wanted someone else to understand me, never wanted anyone else to listen to me, never wanted to look into anyone else's eyes, never wanted to smile while looking at someone else sleeping, never wanted someone else to teach me, never wanted anything different from what I have. And it was probably one of the most easiest decisions to take in my life because it just feels right!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-114360390510495206?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/114360390510495206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=114360390510495206' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114360390510495206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114360390510495206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/03/making-decisions.html' title='Making Decisions'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-114325351273966592</id><published>2006-03-24T18:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T18:25:12.750-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A month, A day, a minute....nothing is enough for you and me. Even if we have a lifetime, it wont be enough. What we need is not time, we need that one ounce of pure unadulterated love that can last a lifetime. And something like that doesnt exist. Its either because we are all basically selfish or because we are forver wanting something more than what we have which leaves us with no time to appreciate what we have. Will there be a time when you and I are going to stop looking? Stop trying to find each other everywhere, in everything else? I think not. The day we stop, we will find each other. And then everything we have will be just enough to keep us happy :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-114325351273966592?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/114325351273966592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=114325351273966592' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114325351273966592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114325351273966592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/03/month-day-minute.html' title=''/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-114091814944063927</id><published>2006-02-25T17:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-25T17:42:29.453-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cant think of a title!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Today is not exactly the day I should be writing this post. Today is the day I should be cleaning the house, clearing the mess in my room, cooking lunch, doing laundary, catching up with backlogs in my courses, washing my messy hair, finding that piece of paper which had all my phone nos and going out to play in the snow. But what the heck, its been so long since I posted something and my blog looks dead! I guess, noone even bothers checking this page anymore. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is also probably the day of realizations and revelations. I saw someone's home page and wondered why I had forgotten that he was a genius. I realized that now, my family has split into three households and that doesnt make me any happier. I noticed that my dad has started thanking me when I make calls or write mails to him and I am hating it! I know that I should have done a lot more for all the people I cared when I was back there with them than now thinking about how I should go back and solve their worries. And the mirror made me realize that eating a bit of all fatty foods, thinking what harm it can do still helps you bloat up! Also, I realized that even though I love north Indian cuisine, eating it everyday is not as much fun. I miss rasam, sambhar, idlis, dosas and curd rice! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, lots of changes in my life...there's lots more work to do these days, there's lots more lack of sleep, there's lots more partying, lots more feeling like kicking some people at the right place, lot more analysis of people going on in my mind and there's lots and lots more of junk eating! And I do say "what the heck...I dont care" about a lot of things these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Basically, life has changed and probably for good. Atleast I am quite happy to be out of my work place.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-114091814944063927?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/114091814944063927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=114091814944063927' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114091814944063927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/114091814944063927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2006/02/cant-think-of-title.html' title='Cant think of a title!'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-113464851857657554</id><published>2005-12-15T04:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-15T04:08:38.586-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Namma Bengalooru, Namma Hemme?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Translated...the title means "Our Bangalore, our Pride"?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;No, I am not going to talk about the pathetic infrastructure of Blore or the umanageable traffic or the increasing crime rates...its about something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last month I had been to Mysore during diwali time and I visited the exhibition that starts during dusshera time in the grounds in front of the palace. When I came out of it...the one thing that I felt was a pride for my mother tongue. Living in the capital city of Kanataka for so many years now, I have never actually felt at home. Nobody speaks to you in Kannada! Even the auto drivers assume I speak Hindi...!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At mysore, I could see people so proud of their language and they do not hesitate to use it. Now, I know why my cousins born and bought up there have so much of an attachment to the language! I know I have never bothered improving my reading skills of Kannada...and now I wish I had tried!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The joy of hearing everyone around you speak your language is something that I never knew existed! Well, you lose out on a lot of things when u decide to settle down in a cosmopoiltan city. I understand that people from different states are around and kannada cant be the only language in use, but what I dont understand is why do kanndigas not use the language with fellow kannadigas! Are we ashamed of our language? Or speaking English is a status symbol of any sorts?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can say is that it is quite sad that people here are not attached to their mother tongue....are not proud of using it. Sigh....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-113464851857657554?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/113464851857657554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=113464851857657554' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/113464851857657554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/113464851857657554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/12/namma-bengalooru-namma-hemme.html' title='Namma Bengalooru, Namma Hemme?'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-113463087141039181</id><published>2005-12-14T23:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-15T00:39:36.226-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Randomn</title><content type='html'>Came across this "blogthings" in someone else's blog...nice timepass! Tried out a couple of them...thought I'd publish one or two...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#999999" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your Eyes Should Be Brown&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#CCCCCC"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatcolorshouldyoureyesbequiz/brown.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your eyes reflect: Depth and wisdom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's hidden behind your eyes: A tender heart&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatcolorshouldyoureyesbequiz/"&gt;What Color Should Your Eyes Be?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#CDDEFF" align=center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You are a Self-Discoverer&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EBF2FF"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatsyourreligiousphilosophyquiz/self-discoverer.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're not religious, but you've created your own kind of spirituality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Introspective and thoughtful, you tend to look inward for the divine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are distrusting of all forms of organized religion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You especially dislike religious gurus and leaders, who you feel are charlatans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatsyourreligiousphilosophyquiz/"&gt;What's Your Religious Philosophy?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-113463087141039181?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/113463087141039181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=113463087141039181' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/113463087141039181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/113463087141039181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/12/randomn.html' title='Randomn'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-113150901703533853</id><published>2005-11-09T09:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:53:58.613-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Made for Each other?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;When they were 5 years old:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;He:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Can I have your toy? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;She:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;(after thinking for 2 mins), Yes you can, but take care of it, dont break it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;When they were 10:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;He:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Can I have that story book? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;She:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Yes, take it. Its from my prized collection, be careful with it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;When they were 16:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;He:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Can I have your bike for the day?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;She:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;(after thinking about her stern dad), Yes you can take it out, but please be careful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;When they were 20:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;He :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Will you give me your heart ? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;She:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;(she smiled) Yes, but dont ever break it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;When they were 25:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;He:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;(In deep thought) Would you ever give up your life for me? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;She:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;(sighing) You asked me for my toy when we were kids and I parted with it so that you could have the pleasure of playing with it too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Another day you asked me for a story book from my collection. I never lend that book to anyone, but I gave it to you because I wanted you to enjoy the pleasure of reading it and experience what I had experienced. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;A few years later you asked me if you could borrow my bike. I thought about my father who would be very angry if he knew, but I gave it to you because I knew you wanted to take that girl out and show off in front of her. And I wanted you to have your share of happiness. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;And then one fine day you asked me for my heart, I gladly gave it to you because I had waited for this moment for so long. I wanted us to grow together and understand and make each other happy. That toy truck came back to me with two wheels out. I fixed it and continued playing with it. The book came back after six months with the pages torn and the cover soiled. I taped many of the pages together, but I couldnt do anything about the pages that were missing. The bike came back home late in the night with scratches and a dent in the front. My father grounded me for a week for lending my bike. I got it repaired with the pocket money I had saved for buying that tennis racket I wanted so badly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;And now... my heart is in pieces. Can you tell me how I am going to pick up all the pieces and patch them up together and never feel the pain of the past? No I wont give my life for you. Everything has become too precious to give it away to you now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;He:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;And because &lt;em&gt;I &lt;/em&gt;broke your heart, you are breaking mine? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"He was still thinking only about himself..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-113150901703533853?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/113150901703533853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=113150901703533853' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/113150901703533853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/113150901703533853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/11/made-for-each-other.html' title='Made for Each other?'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-113032525595547110</id><published>2005-10-26T16:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:52:08.556-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vacation</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Never realized its been more than a month since I blogged. Was so caught up in everything happening around me. I had a great vacation (2 weeks...thanks to my ever understanding PM) in the latter half of September. Met ol buddies at Delhi and also met my best friend :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the trip was totally satisfying, which included the endless gup-shup till late nights, hogging all the Dilli chat, maniacal shopping sprees, behas with Auto guys, making cold coffee and maggi in the middle of the night, getting terrified by the mote mote chipkalis (fat lizards) in my friend's house which just have to sit tight on the gas burner for some reason unknown to me and the umpteen no of times we had chai on one particular Saturday when it rained cats and dogs spoiling our shopping plans! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It also included meeting my ex-crush, meeting him and realizing I didnt feel anything for him. He didnt make my heart race or give me goosebumps or that fluttery feeling. But, he was nice and sweet as usual and we enjoyed looting him of all the cash he had...just like the last time I had met him! Atleast last time we spared a few coins so that he could get back home by bus, but unfortunately for him, he has a bike now!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, this trip also included some very nice moments with someone special. There were breezy cycle rickshaw rides under moon light, candle light dinner, long barefoot walk under the trees, sitting behind on a bicycle, coffee in the middle of the night, lots of sleep, sweaty crampy tempo rides, a trip to another city, forts, museums and horse cart ride! And sitting in front of a table where ten small rasgullas were ready to eat...what more can I ask! And the best thing was probably just having his 'exclusive' company! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then everything cant remain rosy in your life...had to come back to the real world and get back to work. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Wish vacations would last forever...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-113032525595547110?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/113032525595547110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=113032525595547110' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/113032525595547110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/113032525595547110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/10/vacation.html' title='Vacation'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-112675575499515287</id><published>2005-09-15T08:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:55:03.553-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Somethings Never Change</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;She still turns to him when she wants a friend&lt;br /&gt;He still is there for her through rough times&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She still calls him an idiot everytime he cracks a stupid joke&lt;br /&gt;He still uses her full name only when he is upset with her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She still loves picking up gifts for him&lt;br /&gt;He still yells at her for spending on him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She still thinks one of the best things in the world is falling asleep in his arms&lt;br /&gt;He still thinks she is just lazy and wants to sleep all the time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She still loves him&lt;br /&gt;He still loves her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She still thinks he is the best&lt;br /&gt;He still thinks he is the best!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-112675575499515287?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/112675575499515287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=112675575499515287' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/112675575499515287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/112675575499515287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/09/somethings-never-change.html' title='Somethings Never Change'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-112495152845173161</id><published>2005-08-24T11:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:50:08.473-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A break</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;If there's anyone who reads this blog regularly then I think I owe this post to them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;This blog will be inactive for a while, so dont bother visiting it. As far as the reasons go, I am still asking myself that !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-112495152845173161?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/112495152845173161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=112495152845173161' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/112495152845173161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/112495152845173161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/08/break.html' title='A break'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-112167428944360677</id><published>2005-07-18T13:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:44:01.986-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happiness</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Everyone can be happy if and only if we truly desire for it. This being my sole aim in life, I am going to aspire and perspire for only that. Happiness is just a mental state, its a state that is wilfully obtained and never gained by any event or possession. Its never going to come to me, I have to find it...in myself. And I am on a journey to find a few things that matter the most to me right now in my life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I am going to do to be happy -&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Shut out all the thoughts that cause me pain, no I dont have to always deal with it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-Smile...smile from within...smile to greet every new day, smile because things will get better. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-Breakdown and cry if I must. I want to wash away the pain from my soul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-Treat myself by doing atleast one thing that I love every single day-eating, painting, reading, sleeping,writing,cooking...whatever it may be. (I think I am doing all of them right now).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-Give more attention to people who truly care for me and let them into my life, I am going to care less about the people 'I' truly care for. The former is more beneficial.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-Let go. Let go of people, let go of hope and let go of expectations (expectations of apologies, explanations, change).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-Continue being sarcastic to the mean ones, it gives me pleasure.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-Hurt back the ones who hurt me, this gives me more pleasure. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I see myself treading the path of selfishness&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;If this path is the only way to happiness, so shall it be. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-112167428944360677?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/112167428944360677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=112167428944360677' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/112167428944360677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/112167428944360677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/07/happiness.html' title='Happiness'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-112073759653714722</id><published>2005-07-07T17:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:46:19.243-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just listing down</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;What I havent seen in him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jealousy&lt;br /&gt;Possessiveness (Now I am wondering if he loves me enough......)&lt;br /&gt;Irrationality&lt;br /&gt;Impracticality (he is more practical than what is called for)&lt;br /&gt;Immaturity&lt;br /&gt;Optimism about relationships&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What I like about him&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He doesnt crib&lt;br /&gt;He trusts me&lt;br /&gt;He is honest with me&lt;br /&gt;He still manages to surprise me&lt;br /&gt;He believes in me&lt;br /&gt;He corrects me&lt;br /&gt;He listens :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and his laugh....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-112073759653714722?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/112073759653714722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=112073759653714722' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/112073759653714722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/112073759653714722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/07/just-listing-down.html' title='Just listing down'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-112073687035765132</id><published>2005-07-07T16:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:46:40.020-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Men  vs Women</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I sometimes think that men lead a much less complicated life! Yes, this is one more of the 'men-women comparison/why men are like this' posts...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are less complex and are incapable of complex thoughts. Linking some event of the present to somehting that happened a long time back, thoughts like 'Why hasnt she called me yet, is she angry with me'? never occur to them. They are a bunch who are happy in their own world of sports, studies, food, beer, music, television and pornography...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A girlfriend is a part of their life, not their life itself. Whereas for a girl, a boyfriend constitutes just about the whole world, everything she thinks of or feels is either related to him or she eventually ends up relating. All the romantic stirring moments when she watches the moon or is on a beach at night, whats does she think? "I wish he was here with me to share it all...."! When she is sad....."where are you? I need you to support me". When she is happy...."where are you? I am soo happy and you arent around to share it, whats the use?" All her time and thoughts are wasted away on yearning for him. When does she truly enjoy life for herself? Why does she always need someone? Men are prefectly happy even if they dont get to share any part of their lives or events with women. (Ok, now this is turning more into a 'why are women like this' kinda post)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men are sensible. They have a hold on their emotions. Or do they? Well, they most certainly appear to. They hide their emotions and dont go around complaining about their problems. They dont make anyone's lives around them miserable. They can be going through a heartbreak and still enjoy a game of football. They dont think 'this is the end of the world' no matter what the problem is. And even if they have just said goodbye to their sweetheart, they can always fall all over in love afresh with some sweet girl who walks into their life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I think I like men!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-112073687035765132?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/112073687035765132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=112073687035765132' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/112073687035765132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/112073687035765132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/07/men-vs-women.html' title='Men  vs Women'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-112023357015081241</id><published>2005-07-01T21:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:49:15.356-08:00</updated><title type='text'>All about literature</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;I just visited the blog of a poet. Its not easy to write something that you have not experienced, especially poetry. It might not be too difficut to write a story, but to write a poem that expresses every emotion.. making you feel like the poet has endured it himself...to bring that out without experiencing it is an art.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to Oscar Wilde, About 'Art' -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#339999;"&gt;It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#339999;"&gt;"We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it immensely".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;"All art is quite useless"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Right now, I am in an 'Appreciation of Literature' mood. Currently, reading one of the classics by Oscar Wilde (The picture of Dorain Gray)...he is superb! Not just his choice of words, but the ideas he represents, about men, about society, it makes you think. And I must say this book requires a great deal of attention and time, you will never enjoy it if you read it like a Sidney Sheldon Novel! Every sentence, every word, the actual meaning of it all has to be absorbed to be able to appeciate it and fall in love with this classic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is some kind of a peace within when I am reading such books. I remember the same feeling coming back to me what I had felt when I read one of Jane Austen's novels. It transforms me into this person I havent met before, this person I dont understand, into something very strange, but I like that person. She is calm, content and happy. She feels she is doing something worthwhile with her days...and she is living her life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An excerpt from the book...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;"Beauty, real beauty ends where an intellectual expression begins. Intellect is in itself a mode of exaggeration, and destroys the harmony of any face. The moment one sits down to think, one becomes all nose, or all forehead, or something horrid. Look at the successful men in any of the learned professions. How pefectly hideous they are! Except of course in the Church. But then in the Church they don't think. A Bishop keeps on saying at the age of eighty what he was told to say at the age of eighteen, and as a natural consequence he always looks absolutely delightful".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;I dont need to say anything further, for if there is anyone who really appreciates a classic, he will know what I am talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yeild to it"! - Oscar Wilde&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(With a book filled with thoughts like these, the society revolted against the book when it was first published and it had to be revised. Sadly, Oscar Wilde went behind bars and came out penniless, hopeless and wandered around finally dying within a few months).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-112023357015081241?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/112023357015081241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=112023357015081241' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/112023357015081241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/112023357015081241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/07/all-about-literature.html' title='All about literature'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-112020169017446636</id><published>2005-07-01T12:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:47:50.846-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stopping Midway to think</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;July first....We are already halfway through this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems just a few days back when my sweetheart was in town and we celebrated my birthday together. Its been more than 6 months! Seems like just a few days back when he called me on New year's eve and wished me a wonderful and exciting year ahead, promised me we will do all those things in our 'To do Together' list....the list is only getting longer by the day...and not one of it has been striked out till now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems just a few days back when Sups messaged to inform she got the visa and then it sunk into me that she is leaving....it seems just a few days back that we (our college gang) went for a trip...which was to be the last :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it seems just a few days back that I went to that wild party and silently cried at the strike of 12, because there was noone who hugged me first to wish new year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time flies by and it seems just a few days back that I decided to do something about my weight, but its been six months and I havent learnt what control is! :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-112020169017446636?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/112020169017446636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=112020169017446636' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/112020169017446636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/112020169017446636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/07/stopping-midway-to-think.html' title='Stopping Midway to think'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-112015705163115772</id><published>2005-06-30T23:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:32:14.476-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mystery</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;I recently watched this movie...."League of the extraordinary gentlemen"...brother warned me..said I wud regret watching it. But, somehow I kinda enjoyed it. Yes, agreed it was crappy, but then the theme was different. Getting together all the fictious characters and making a story...novel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dorian Gray, Alan Quartermaine, Mrs.whatever(Dracula's wife), Tom Sawyer, The invisible man, Dr.Jeykyll (/Hyde)...(cant remember the rest) all joined together for a mission. Well, I dont want to talk about the movie or narrate the story here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the day I saw the movie, I thought I had heard "Dorian gray" somewhere, I couldnt place it. Yes, of course he is a fictious character with the whole life in the painting thing, but that I got to know from the movie. I had heard this name somewhere before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was there at the back of my mind for a long time, I kept pondering over it, trying hard to recollect. The name was unusually familiar. And then, just now I discovered where I had heard/seen the name ! My bookshelf!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde" lying in the middle of the stack of my classics collection! Thats where I had seen it...I have stared at it almost everyday and the name just remained in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange how some mysteries get solved over time...on their own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Note change: Book I am currently reading - "The picture of Dorian Gray"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. A randomn thought: How about "Food tagging" people? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-112015705163115772?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/112015705163115772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=112015705163115772' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/112015705163115772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/112015705163115772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/06/mystery.html' title='Mystery'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-112015634555482685</id><published>2005-06-30T23:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:35:04.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Book Tagged!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Ok, I have been book tagged and here goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Books&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;- one of my passions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;My Book collection&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;- something I take pride in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Fiction - Jeffrey Archer, Agatha Christie, John Grisham, Sidney Sheldon, Perry Mason seires, Robert Ludlum, Fredrick Forsyth, Irving Wallace, Robin Cook...( close to 100)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Classics - David Copperfield, Mark Twain, O Henry, Stevenson, Jane Austen, Oscar Wilde, R.K.Narayan...(have about 50 of them)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiddie Collection - Famous Five, Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew......I cant give them away even though I dont read them now (have crazily collected around 70 of these)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misc - dont have the patience to list them now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;[All above books owned by me :-) (Have not included mom, dad or granpa's collection)]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;E-books&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;- something I wont even give a glance towards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Hard- bounds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;- dont really prefer coz I cant read them while lying on my bed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Books I would recommend&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;1. Paul Reiser's "Couplehood" - hilarious!(Thanks sups... for giving me the book)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen (the not so romantic ones...dont bother, is not fast-moving like the thrillers, a classic...u will need some patience)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. O-Henry's 100 short stories - This one is another classic, the stories are very moving. (for those who cant place him..remember "The Gift of Magi"?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Sherlock Holmes - the complete collection (2 volumes)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Other memorable reads&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown&lt;br /&gt;The Eleventh Commandment - Jeffrey Archer&lt;br /&gt;Code to Zero - Ken Follet&lt;br /&gt;A Murder is Announced - Agatha Christie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(There are plenty of othes, but this post is too lengthy already)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Comics I enjoy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Calvin &amp;amp; Hobbes&lt;br /&gt;Archies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Books I could have skipped&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Linda Goodman's Sunsigns&lt;br /&gt;Mills and Boon series&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Books I want to read&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Pappillon&lt;br /&gt;Jonathan Livingston Seagull -by Richard Bach&lt;br /&gt;Books by Sommerset Maugham&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Books I cant seem to finish&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;As the crow flies - Jeffrey Archer&lt;br /&gt;LOTR&lt;br /&gt;Men are from mars and Women from Venus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Books I cant seem to start&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;John Grisham novels (no matter which one I pick...I cannot even start reading)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Books I treasure&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Disneys classics - Collection of 12 Fairy Tales!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ya call me a kid, call me a romantic...call me a dreamer! I am all of them. I cant let go of these (I hide them away when my lil cousins come home, else mom will spot them and pass it onto them)! These are with illustrations and the pictures are awesome, I love to paint them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Of course, I am possesive about all my books...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Book I am curently reading&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Readers Digests (of 2004...during my bus journeys)&lt;br /&gt;(yes yes, its not a book, its a magazine, I cant find any book that I havent read and I need to buy more).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;People I am going to tag&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;NONE (There doesnt seem to be anyone left)!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-112015634555482685?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/112015634555482685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=112015634555482685' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/112015634555482685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/112015634555482685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/06/book-tagged.html' title='Book Tagged!'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-111995757439639850</id><published>2005-06-28T16:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:35:54.443-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I dont like</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Wind&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;- means messy hair, flying clothes, wild windchimes that cease to sound pleasant, broken windowpanes, banging doors and bike out of control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Mondays&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; - this one is all of what I hate! Getting up early, boring life for the next 5 days, no movies, no shopping, no afternoon naps, no spending loooong time under the shower, preparing status report and effort logging of the past week (this one takes up my life), exercising after a break (aahhh...that hurts) and running to the bus stop (I am almost always late on Mondays).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Whistling&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;- Its probably my ear (I know some people wont agree), it cant bear the shrill noise, gives me a headache. Or its probably that I am surrounded by people who cant whistle pleasantly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Cheezy verbose greeting cards&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; - I dont have the patience to read them or appreciate anything that goes beyond 4 lines in a card. You do not need more than that to express all that you feel. If u cant, then please write a letter, dont use a card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Girls staring at me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; - these usually mean that something is wrong with the way I have dressed up and girls always observe and criticize much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Living in an apartment&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; - means I cant keep pets, I cant stand by leaning on the gate, I cant see the sky and the stars at night (unless I go to the terrace and I am lazy), I cant have the shade of a tree whose flowers fall on my roof, I cant have creepers on my compound,I cant have a compound, I have to stop dreaming of walking barefoot on morning lawns with dew on the grass and I cant sneak up anyone onto my terrace at nights!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Drinks served at room temperature&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; - yuck! I need it either really hot or chilled. Especially tea and coffee...they taste the worst. And coffees and milkshakes without froth isnt worth being called what they are called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Nosy Neighbours&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; - Everyone hates this one. I guess basically women fall into this category. Ohh how they love to bitch about all the young women in the locality! "U know Mrs.So &amp;amp; So's daughter..., a young man dropped her last night at 10 (they think 10 is late)...I think she is having an affair"........I dont dislike them, I HATE them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;"Hows life"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; - I am sick of hearing this as the next sentence after a 'Hi'. You want to know how life is ? Do you have the time or do you even care to listen to all my problems? I dont think you really care about my life....thats a big question, dont expect an answer in one word/sentence. Maybe if you ask me how I am doing, I will spare you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Change&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; - is the way of life...yes I know. Lived for 22 years...but I am still not used to it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Goodbyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; - sob...sob...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-111995757439639850?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/111995757439639850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=111995757439639850' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111995757439639850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111995757439639850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/06/things-i-dont-like.html' title='Things I dont like'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-111980717455452254</id><published>2005-06-26T22:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:37:18.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Past few days</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Realization hits me...I get philosphical....decide on a few things...three days pass by...now everything is the same...Result: me and my mind back to square one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its just so easy to get back to this state of mind. So difficult to run away from it, even more difficult to deal with. I proudly announced to myself that I can do it and get out of the mental mess I am in, told myself that its all about attitude, all problems in life can vanish in a *puff*....but....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, things almost always never work out the way you want it to! I dont know which is true.... "the more you want it to work, the more probablility of it not working" or "the more you dont want something to work,the more the chances of it happening" ?? Wait...arent they the same? End result being, you dont get what you want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being the blind optimist, I still am hoping that what I believe in will not let me down. Inspite of the situation changing everyday towards the way I dont want it to, my heart still believes and hopes...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-111980717455452254?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/111980717455452254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=111980717455452254' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111980717455452254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111980717455452254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/06/past-few-days.html' title='Past few days'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-111959261835534863</id><published>2005-06-24T10:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:38:00.620-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogging</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;These days exploring a couple of blogs and I am beginning to enjoy a few and they have all been&lt;br /&gt;promptly added to my favourites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some are simple and straightforward yet I couldnt stop reading them. And some are different, well thought, well written ones. And some others are a little boring, but I keep checking because these people do write a good one once in a while. Some are filled with sadness and anger and some with utter nonsense (I was confused if this one was a blog afterall)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And one blog is very very different, cryptic sometimes, but almost always just brilliant!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And except one or two blogs, the rest have come into existence quite recently. Just wondering if blogging is some new trend these days! Everyone seems to be doing it and surprisingly doing it well!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a lot more to say about this topic, just cant remember anything. I am experiencing a complete blackout right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-111959261835534863?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/111959261835534863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=111959261835534863' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111959261835534863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111959261835534863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/06/blogging.html' title='Blogging'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-111942538324275145</id><published>2005-06-22T00:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:38:37.403-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The little joys of life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Theres a small balcony attached to the drawing room of my home and its a frequent visiting place for many sparrows. My mother keeps a plate filled with rice and grains and loves to watch them flock around. These days I have noticed two squirrels, a crow and a pigeon coming too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sparrows started out in small numbers, just two then increased to a huge flock. But I must say they are all well behaved unlike the crow! The crow likes to turn the plate upside down and chew the leaves off the plants kept there. I wonder why it does that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mother is crazy about gardening and she has made the most of the space available in and around the house to give them all a place to live! She treats them like her children and I think I also saw her speaking to them once or twice! She has many bonsais kept in the balcony and the sparrows perch on these miniature trees. They are almost everywhere, chirping along making it all a wonderful and peaceful sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for the past two weeks they have been my subject for photos. But I still havent got the picture I want. I have to stand by the window waiting for them to come along and obviously cant go into the balcony, though now they have become quite fearless compared to the first few days. Hoping to get some good shots this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But apart from capturing them in my camera, its just so fascinating to sit and watch them interact with each other sitting on the grill and flying around. The scene is right there in front of my eyes....bright day, the three'o clock sunshine falling on the leaves, the birds (they are always in pairs) flapping their little wings hopping around from my window sill to anothers balcony to somebody elses terrace...they have no idea how much joy they give me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the squirrel hasnt yet let us into its life, it scurries away even when I am as far as eight feet away from it! Will have to watch it from somewhere inside the house where it wont notice me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-111942538324275145?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/111942538324275145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=111942538324275145' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111942538324275145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111942538324275145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/06/little-joys-of-life.html' title='The little joys of life'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-111935526250367880</id><published>2005-06-21T16:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:36:29.506-08:00</updated><title type='text'>About Sundays!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I think theres something about Sundays in my life! Something usually has to happen that will make me remember the day for a long time. After the whole bike incident on one of the past Sundays, there was something new in store for me on this day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday afternoon...we have just shopped for a whole lot of things, very satisfied with all the good deals we have got, dreaming of how they would look on us, guessing what my mom will say about that high heeled footwear I just got...and hungry, very hungry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wallet is empty and Vidya says she has one 100 rupee note...yes that would be enough. We walk into a place on Commercial Street, look around in the menu and choose to have a milkshake and a rice item (we can share and survive). After lunch, we will have enough energy to walk upto the nearest ATM and draw cash. So, we order and wait endlessly for the guy across the counter to collect our coupon (I dont like self service much....especially when its lunch time and when I am hungry and when theres a constant inflow of people all hurridely occupying the seats available...). No, I am not eating my lunch standing in some corner of this place, give me my food faast! Ok, the Milkshake is ready, now by the time the food comes, this is going to attain room temperature and the froth will be all gone :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decide we need a place to sit and so comfortably settle down after finding a table (that shakes...now I dont like shaky tables either). A repeated call of "Token No 4" brings us out of our discussion (which was I think about how the milkshake could have been better or it was probably about how it would have been better if we had just ordered for two meals). Vidya goes to get it and I see her walking back towards the table with a very weird expression...and I am wondering why she hasnt got any plates with that bowl in her hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She places it in front of me almost accusing me since I ordered this item or so she claims, but she did agree on it....its a North Indian Veg Curry! Ok...great! Now we have a wonderful smelling hot Veg sabzi and an even better frothless milkshake to go with it! And I am staring at that big piece of Paneer on top...it looks yummy...ok....so what do we do? Both of us search around in our wallets and then find exact change of Rs.18/- Wow!! After a battle on who is going to the counter to produce this money all in change (there was one five rupee coin and the rest were coins of one and two), I take it and walk upto the cash counter. I look at the menu, ok, its either a roti or a naan (Kulcha is 19/- and a paratha is 20/- ). I order for a naan. The man sitting behind the desk just takes it (without smirking) and gives me the coupon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok..the naan wasnt too bad, so we had half a naan each with the sabzi, rather the sabzi with the naan and came out of that place laughing (and stomachs still not satisfied)! Vidya is still thinking of how good the meals looked....and I am still regretting paying so much for the milkshake!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that was a Sunday lunch for us and later at the theatre, filled ourselves with junk. Went home and had rice with daal and slept peacefully!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(In case any of you are wondering, No the restaurant does not accept credit cards and the ATM was just too far)!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-111935526250367880?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/111935526250367880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=111935526250367880' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111935526250367880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111935526250367880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/06/about-sundays.html' title='About Sundays!'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-111872752051207131</id><published>2005-06-14T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:39:03.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome Back!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The ordeal wasnt to end so soon! After visiting three police stations last night, found my bike parked in a corner...dusty...lonely...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paid up the fine (arrghh...you got to pay the towing charges also apart from the fine) and got it back. Thankfully, it was not damaged in any way. And thankfully I wasnt asked for the papers of the vehicle, not that there is a huge problem with that, but I havent got a pollution check done in ages. Would probably have had to pay some fine for that too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, thus the evening went fine and it got even better coz I had generous helpings of icecream for dessert. And it was this new flavour, "Kesar Crackle"! Whatever the name was, it tasted heavenly! It was kesar flavour with pistas in it that were crunchy and crackled when you put them in your mouth. I cant wait to get back home and have more of it tonight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mmm....(already dreaming of what to have for lunch today)!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-111872752051207131?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/111872752051207131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=111872752051207131' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111872752051207131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111872752051207131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/06/welcome-back_14.html' title='Welcome Back!'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-111865139687254168</id><published>2005-06-13T14:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:39:57.190-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A wonderful Sunday Evening</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;'Yesterday' started out very pleasant, with me seeing the daylight at 10.30 in the morning! Afterall Sundays are for waking up late. Breakfast - had something that looked like a dosa, but tasted nothing like it! With mom not being around these days, my meals are getting less healthier and even less appealing to my eyes and taste buds. Then switched on that machine on my table that keeps me alive these days! Damn! Stupid Cable net...first of all, it is supposed to be fast, but I have given up on that since these days I am having other problems that are more important to concentrate on....to get connected in the first place! Ok...so had to revert to the other thing that I do on Sundays...TV. Will and grace..going on...aarrghh..I have started hating Karen's voice! Ok...switch switch switch...nothing here. Ohh its already 1! Need to prepare lunch...shouldnt kill my granpa and brother just because I am not in the mood to cook. Lunch turned out to be decent (and laaaate) much to my surprise. Then, brother announces net is working! yaay!! But why would he give the comp to me? So...got back to TV hoping something worthwhile is there to watch. Okk...some movie. And then this friend of mine calls asking me to meet her in the evening. Thank god! Something to do at last!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, take my bike out in the busy evening...find a parking space and thank god it isnt cramped up! My bike can breathe here at this spot. Then spend an hour in a shopping mall and come back making a mental list of all the things I got to do once I get back home (Dinner needs to be taken care of...). And then I get a shock! There are lines of neatly parked cars where my bike was an hour ago! I look around, no nowhere around! Oh my god!! Where is my bike? Is it stolen? Did I not lock it properly? Wait..where are the other bikes that were parked with mine? What is going on here???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One friendly soul comes up to me and asks if something is wrong. And then he tells me that around 50 bikes were towed away sometime back becasue this was supposed to be car parking area!! Now how am I supposed to know that....do these people not know of signboards? What is with the law these days? Ok...cursing isnt going to get me my bike back. Then I ask him what next? He tells me I have to go to the police station and pay up the fine and it'll be back with me. Ok..lets pay up whatever is asked and get it back. But then if only things were soo easy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go to the station and ask around and then this person directs me back to the parking lot telling me that the vehicles will be around for somemore time before they come in to the station, so I can pay the fine and pick it up from there. So I go back (the kind soul who agreed to take me to the police station in his auto is waiting for me..). And then the police at the traffic junction re-directs me to the police station, when I tell him I am coming from there...he replies with a curt "are you trying to argue with me"? No....how can I?...I just want my bike back thats all! Finally he tells me to go back there and wait till the gaadis all come in. Its 8.15 and Granpa is worrying at home..so thought it best to get back home without the bike. Can collect it tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then all the auto guys decided to conspire against me! Not a single one was ready to take me home. I cant believe what I did! I finally travelled back with some stranger who was passing my place to get to his. I think he was as scared as me of travelling with a stranger! Finally reached home and my dear granpa told me we can all adjust with the stuff around for dinner and there is no need to cook! Ahh bless him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, today I need to go back to that station and get my bike. Sigh....I hope my bike is doing ok....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-111865139687254168?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/111865139687254168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=111865139687254168' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111865139687254168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111865139687254168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/06/wonderful-sunday-evening.html' title='A wonderful Sunday Evening'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-111709001177243131</id><published>2005-05-26T12:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-07T00:04:50.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One fine Morning...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It was a fine morning, pleasant...slightly misty...a little cold coz of the previous nights rain...all in all just about perfect. Ah ah..maybe I spoke too soon. It was a morning I wouldnt forget in the days to come. Not for a long long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bus was almost flying on the highway and then at quarter past eight turned into the wet roads of the huge campus that provides employment to a few thousands in the city. As it was trotting along...as usual I was sitting by the window and looking out feeling the cold breeze on my face. It was chilly...but I was so lost in my thoughts that I didnt realize that the glass panes can be slided to shut out the harsh wind. And as usual I was sitting there silent not talking to anyone..the bus was filled with atleast 30 people and yet I was alone. I sometimes wonder why I have turned into a loner these days not sharing my feelings with anyone not letting anyone into my trust circle. I hope its a passing phase and I will be that endlessly mindlesly chattering girl soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I saw him. At a turn, he was there...a boy of 18 or probably 20...sweeping the road in front of an office. He was diligently carrying out the work. Gathering every leaf into a pile...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bus had halted and I could catch a glimpse of his face. Whether he enjoyed his work or cursed his fate..I dont know, but I could see that right then, the only thing he was determined to do was to tidy the place. And I suddenly felt sorry for him. I was not sorry because of what he was doing, it was about his future...and lil did I know that the future I was worried about for him was soo near.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It happened...in less than 5 seconds after I realized what was going to happen. A purple hi-tech bus was coming in the opposite direction and as he turned at this bend...I knew what was going to happen....how could the driver not know...I was so dumbstruck..I wanted to yell at the driver telling him what he was going to do..but I couldnt. I dont know if it was the shock of the incident that was yet to happen or if there was just not enough time to react. As the bus turned...it hit him. My bus started to move and I couldnt see anything but the back of the purple bus. I so wanted to see if he was hurt badly. I looked at the people in my bus and saw....a girl was resting her head agianst the window and sleeping, another man was reading the newspaper and another one was busy talking on his mobile....I wanted to cry out loud to all the people in my bus.."How&lt;br /&gt;can you people be so insensitive...did you not see that...dont you want to get down and help him.."...but I didnt do anything. I turned back and saw a crowd gathering at the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I felt this sudden pain inside me...my heart sank, my hands were numb and the only thing I could see was the 10 second incident replaying in from of me again and again and again. He was nobody to me, but he was innocent. He was hit and hurt and he was in pain. And I was in pain. The connection was not between me and him...it was between me and that sensitive girl inside me. And there it dropped....one tear onto my lap. I quickly wiped it away and told myself that he would be fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I prayed for him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-111709001177243131?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/111709001177243131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=111709001177243131' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111709001177243131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111709001177243131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/05/one-fine-morning.html' title='One fine Morning...'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-111462518647265678</id><published>2005-04-27T22:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-07T01:07:12.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The love of my life - Food!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ah.....God thought after a whole lot of complaining I did in the past few days, he would let the bright light of the blissfull days shine on me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A good day, enjoyed my work...almost finished it and the best part is, its working!! Atleast till evening it was! Ahh the satisfaction u get after completing an implementation! Now, I am only more determined what about what I want to do in future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, the day was even better coz I had Walnut brownie with hot chocolate sauce...what more can u want!! Ahh....desserts...oh I forgot to mention, I also had half a slice of Apple Pie. I dont know why I have this obsession for Apple pies..to eat it, to smell it, to bake one! Its some kind of weird fascination! And not like its one of the best desserts u can find around. Something that I think there's no requirement for a reasoning now...so let that be...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I dont know why food is so important for people. I mean afterall it was meant to be just a means of nutrition for the body, what was the necessity of those small lumps at the back of the tongue. Most of the major issues revolve around food! "Oh, U are going to China..what are you going to do about food"? (Please dont ask me why I picked China)! "What! u made the same thign again tonight"? (And then right there the seeds of a frigthfully complicated troublesome marriage is sown)...and one of my close friend believes that problems due to food is one of the things that makes the world go around! (Actually it should have been food itself...I wonder why he thinks its the problems associated with food)..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And these days I have become so jobless that I have started writing a cart-load of crap in my blogs! But, what me worry? Who is there to object!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-111462518647265678?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/111462518647265678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=111462518647265678' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111462518647265678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111462518647265678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/04/love-of-my-life-food.html' title='The love of my life - Food!'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-111445075850095182</id><published>2005-04-25T22:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-07T01:09:02.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life - Gimme a Break!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A Bad day..one of the worst...sucked big time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things will never change...no matter how important it is to me or how much I want something...I aint getting it so easily. Never! God wants me to know what hardwork is..in all matters. Even the smallest of things, I have never got anything by chance. I dont get it! Some people have all the luck in the world. They dont struggle as much and yet manage somehow. I dont like this...this is being unfair. If I ever get something I havent worked for, then God will probably cry over the twist in his plot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well....I know I am writing crap...but then this is my blog..so nobody better have any problems. Well, I just had a bad bad day and a very frustrating one. And there I go explaining...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want a break. Not 2 days at the end of a week, but a long holiday...a nice trek...a trip to some exotic unknown far far away land..(ahh... "far far away" and the things Shrek had to experience there)! Actually, being close to nature makes u forget all the worries and even people sometimes! U dont want anything when u r in the midst of a forest sitting by a stream...the tranquility of the surroundings...the rustle of the leaves.....the gurgling waters....the peace u feel within...that is all I want.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-111445075850095182?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/111445075850095182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=111445075850095182' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111445075850095182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111445075850095182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/04/life-gimme-break.html' title='Life - Gimme a Break!!!'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-111401709581697187</id><published>2005-04-20T22:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-07T01:07:45.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Better mood..better day...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;For the first time felt good about my work. This is quite close to what I am interested in and what I want to do...happy that I am learning so much and gaining a few of the most valuable things in life; knowledge and experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well..no matter how much I curse my workplace for being pretty stingy about giving holidays and pay, I think this is one of the best things that happened to me. This place has done me good. This company got me out of the "I am going to sit and rot at home after engineering" cribbing which I am sure was irritating quite a few people close to me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say that I have been extremely lucky to have been put into a project that suited my interest and has some quality work going on. I see many of the freshers who joined with me in quite a pathetic state; already bugged with the whole IT industry!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And...I must say that IT industry doesnt deserve to be demeaned to the extent that I see it being done around just because the jobs are plenty. We musn't forget that it does provide employment for so many Engineers reducing the unemployment rate in India.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I am not in a Patriotic or "IT Hail" mood...but sometimes when certain things deserve credit..it must be given.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being my first job..if I were ever to leave this place, I am certainly going to remember all the good this company has done for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Hoping I wont be jinxed...and hoping Vivek Paul reads this and decides to erase any kind of dissapointment regarding the company and gives a hike)!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-111401709581697187?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/111401709581697187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=111401709581697187' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111401709581697187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111401709581697187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/04/better-moodbetter-day.html' title='Better mood..better day...'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-111393351103481149</id><published>2005-04-19T22:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-07T01:09:55.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I still havent found what I am looking for</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I have climbed the highest mountain&lt;br /&gt;I have run through the fields&lt;br /&gt;Only to be with you&lt;br /&gt;Only to be with you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have run I have crawled&lt;br /&gt;I have scaled these city walls&lt;br /&gt;These city walls&lt;br /&gt;Only to be with you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I still haven't found what I'm looking for...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life takes its own twists and turns and we all feel like we are being played around with. And so many times we are so sure what is right for us and we wont let anything...any incident, any advice change our mind. But, sometimes we are too foolish, we cant let go of people or past incidents or cant let the mind take over the heart...and end up suffering!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we think we have found what we wanted...money, comfort, a relationship...but today,I feel I havent yet found what I am looking for.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-111393351103481149?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/111393351103481149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=111393351103481149' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111393351103481149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111393351103481149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/04/i-still-havent-found-what-i-am-looking.html' title='I still havent found what I am looking for'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-111347060098006835</id><published>2005-04-14T03:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-14T02:23:20.980-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Be careful to whom you give your heart, coz when you give your heart to someone, you are not only giving that person the right to love you but also the power to hurt you"!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-111347060098006835?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/111347060098006835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=111347060098006835' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111347060098006835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111347060098006835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/04/be-careful-to-whom-you-give-your-heart.html' title=''/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-111330269776114612</id><published>2005-04-12T16:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-07T01:09:23.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Straight from the heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Its been really long since I blogged. Well, I have plenty of reasons for that, but the main thing is that I was preparing for an exam. It went well and according to a few people, I could have done better, but I guess I am more than relived about this coz I failed once earlier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The purpose of this blog isnt to talk about my exam, but about the person who is behind me in making me take this exam again. The person who gave me courage to face it all over. This isnt the only thing he has done for me. Our friendship is quite old and all through these years he has supported and encouraged me about everything that was dear to me. The first one to give me frank opinions and the first one to criticize me. The one to scold me (he acts like my dad sometimes!) and the one to praise me for all my actions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He isnt around these days, but that has not affected our relationship in any way. Apart from missing being with him and observing all his reactions and expressions, I dont think much has changed. He is still the same old moron to me who gets as excited about the important things in his (or my) life (like food and Natural languages) as the smaller things in life. And he has always shared it with me. I can imagine him literally jumping around while he is talking to me on the phone explainig what happened a few mins back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cant help but mention that he is also the weirdest person I have come across till now, not to mention his absent mindedness! The kind of passion he has for the things he is interested in is so amazing. I have not seen so much passion for something in anybody else and probably this is why he succeeds in everything he does. He is totally into something (could be some novel, a subject, some food item, a girl,....) that interests him! And he can also give all his time and effort to peel a single grape! Peeling a grape?? yes!! He did that too (I told u he was weird)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...I have so much to talk about him and it is quite impossible to write everything here. My life would have been totally different if he wasnt around and probably not this good. He is the best and deserves a very good life and I know he is going a really long way in his career. Not to talk about his personal life...what with all the girls hovering around him all the time!! :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dedicate this blog to my dear friend... "Thank you for being there for me dear and wish you a very Happy Birthday"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thank you Fate for making us both meet!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-111330269776114612?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/111330269776114612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=111330269776114612' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111330269776114612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/111330269776114612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/04/straight-from-heart.html' title='Straight from the heart'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-110837585151714070</id><published>2005-02-14T15:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-07-08T00:17:55.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I mean whats the deal about Valentine's day? For people who are alone, its another day reminding them they are alone and increasing the pressure to be hooked. And for those who arent, its another day for them to go out of their way to do something for their better halves! Still, these things are hyped up and given more importance than is required.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine, its another day to make up and express your love for another being...which can be done on any of the 365 days of the year! So...really whats the deal about this day??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just because its V-day, I havent thought less or more of my love...I think of him at all the times I need a friend, I need someone to encourage, I need someone to console and most importantly when I need someone to share my happiness, problems, experiences and feelings. Afterall love is all about sharing...and not about waiting for the fourteenth day of the second month of a year to do it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-110837585151714070?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/110837585151714070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=110837585151714070' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/110837585151714070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/110837585151714070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/02/valentines-day.html' title='Valentine&apos;s day'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-110837453576181869</id><published>2005-02-14T15:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-07-08T00:18:49.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What a day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Had been to the air-show in Bangalore on Saturday and it was a great and a hot day. Met an online friend in person and the best part was I never felt it was the first time I was meeting him. Probably becasue we chat almost everyday and I had reached that comfort level with him. I was not apprehensive about meeting him even earlier in the day because something told me we'd hit it off together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a nice time and of course the show was great except for a minor incident which might have spoilt it for him. Well, he says it didnt, but I know how crazy he is about planes and I am sure he would have enjoyed the day more if I hadnt almost fainted!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the strangest feeling I have ever had till date. It was the first time I felt it and is really unexplainable. Felt like everything inside me was evaporating! And when I spoke I couldn't hear my own voice and I knew I was going to be unconcious any moment. It was scary and weird! Well, thanks to my friend I didnt fall down and was ok within a few minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I was thinking if he'd ever want to see me again, but seems like he didn't get too bored with me! Its hard to believe I have made such a good friend coz I havent really met nice and interesting people online earlier.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-110837453576181869?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/110837453576181869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=110837453576181869' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/110837453576181869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/110837453576181869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/02/what-day.html' title='What a day!'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-110622267589746747</id><published>2005-01-20T17:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-07-07T01:14:44.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Men are from Mars and women from Venus</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I totally agree. Whether they are from Mars and Venus, I am not sure of, but they are defenitely from two totally different planets! And I believe that they arent made for each other (not emotionally atleast), which other two kinds of a species could be more incompatible?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone talks about how difficult it is to understand women (and I am not going to comment on how simple or complicated women are), I think its equally difficult to understand men. I just dont get the way they think..the way they make the same mistakes (in different forms) again, the way they just cant remember some of the smaller things in life (especially what women have told them), the way they'll never accept how jealous they are or how badly they need us (well, by 'us', I am referring to me and the whole of womankind)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And they'll never ever tell another girl they get in contact with about their girlfriends! I dont know if its about keeping their options open or about just wanting to make them stay interested or something else that is out of my understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why they wouldnt tell even the guys just beats me!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, it just gets on my nerves when certain people dont inform all the other girls they know of my existence or importance in their lives! Well, its not like I should be known to everyone, its just for the sake of precaution! And basically to tell the girls "Back off, he's taken"!! Not that many of the girls would stop trying because of this reason. Some of them go out of their way being nice and sweet. And some others will take them along to buy things or nearly demand a drop and basically think that they have a right over them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, when my friend asked me if I'd like to join a conference chat with two other friends (girls) of his, I wasnt too sure. But then, I thought this was the time I could do what my friend wasnt doing, of letting one of the girls know! Well, if she got it and pretended like it didnt bother her or she was really dumb, I dont know, but I must say it was a dissapointment because she never reacted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when you ask them whats the big deal in telling others, thats it, they get mad at you! "you will never understand will you"....I really dont remember them explaining it ever to me earlier! And now, they arent ready to because they think I should know and understand!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men are so difficult!! And they talk about women! Women would love to announce to the world about having found prince charming (if the world excludes their parents)! And ya I know I said I wont talk about this, but women arent after all so complicated. Its just that they think too much! Now, thats not bad, is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-110622267589746747?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/110622267589746747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=110622267589746747' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/110622267589746747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/110622267589746747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/01/men-are-from-mars-and-women-from-venus.html' title='Men are from Mars and women from Venus'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-110550405332984590</id><published>2005-01-12T11:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T05:04:08.870-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just writing...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ok! I am on a blogging spree...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I started this blog, someone said that it wont be easy, and then I was angry. But now I realize that he is right. Its not easy to maintain an active one and keep updating. But that also has inspired me to do so, wont be able to take it if he turns out to be right (eventually, because, in between, I had stopped updating)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if I dont post anything for.. lets say a month, then I'll agree with him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life has become sort of monotonous right now and I am craving for some adventure, some kind of excitement! Finally, when the boredom of life gets to me, I'll take a break and end up doing something crazy! Talking about craziness, I got to talk to someone last night and Oh man! she is crazy!! Maybe because she is in love, but neverthless she is totally crazy! And she has this plan of embarassing her boyfriend so that he thinks of her the whole day, of which she wanted me to be a part of and if I did assist her in this, I would have to share a part of the embarassment! So I refused to do it for her, which didnt bog her down, she has deviced another way to get it done! God save him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually I can kind of relate to her (no....I am not as crazy as her), because even I sit and plan surprises on people and I like doing it. It makes them happy and in turn makes me happy. Well, someone always says to me that things should never be planned as it leads to more dissapointments when it flops. But, I think he says this only because he doesnt bother planning! And he strongly argues about it because once or twice, things have worked out amazingly well between us when we havent planned (or rather when he hasnt let me plan)! Anyway, guess I'll keep planning and he'll stick to his way, but ultimately as long as things work out, I am happy! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-110550405332984590?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/110550405332984590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=110550405332984590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/110550405332984590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/110550405332984590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/01/just-writing.html' title='Just writing...'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-110550251612262066</id><published>2005-01-12T09:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T05:04:59.976-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just not meant to be</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Sometimes it feels like all the forces of nature join hands and work against you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try so hard to spend some time with people I really care for and it just doesnt work out! Well, this has happened a lot of times, but when it really upset me was when one of my close friends had come down to Bangalore for a very short period and I couldnt meet him. Every single day during the last week of his stay, I tried to leave early from office, but NO...I wasnt meant to spend time with him! Had a slight tiff with a senior in office, upset myself, probably upset my friend also and basically sulked around. And by the end of the week, I was so frustrated, I was near to tears! And finally did meet him before he left...but spent very less time with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The week after he left was cool, no deadlines, no work, no botheration from seniors, left every single day at six and one of the days, left early too! See..what I mean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now....this is happening again!! One of my friends is leaving to U.S on Thursday and I am not able to leave office early to meet her! And I am sure, next week, I will be free and will be able to leave whenever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ya! The forces working again... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-110550251612262066?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/110550251612262066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=110550251612262066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/110550251612262066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/110550251612262066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2005/01/just-not-meant-to-be.html' title='Just not meant to be'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-110386548504869594</id><published>2004-12-24T11:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:59:56.020-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reading DVC-An amazing experience</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Finished 'Da Vinci Code' a month back, wanted to write about it, but couldn't. An amazing read, I am sure everyone who has read it will agree with me. But I dont know how many were actually affected in any way by it. I was in this phase of 'I have to know the truth of this whole business' for a long time. There were too many facts and bold truths staring at me and I was really surprised that this was a bestseller and not a manuscript! No wonder this was a controversial book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I read novels (especially one of espionage, secret cults, etc) in which certain facts are used for a story...it makes me think that there are so many things that a layman is unaware of. So many secrets safely guarded. And I of course think this is necesssary to let a lot of us live peacefully. But lots of times I have wanted to be one among those few. Guess it's better that I am not, because I really dont know how well I would guard a secret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, when I recall the name of this book, I cant help but mention here that I had an argument with one of my friends about the pronounciation of "Da Vinci", it being an Italian word, there is no 'ci' (as in 'si') in the language. And many of us pronounce it as Vin'si' and not Vin'chi', whereas the latter is the correct way. Of course, I made a mistake, didnt know about this and so argued at length about the pronounciation, especially because this friend of mine loves to point out my mistakes! He derives immense pleasure in doing so and laughing about it. Finally, corrected myself....although I hate it when I am wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, though I realized the mistake and went and agreed to his point and lost the argument, still this person has to continue with "See, I told you, dont believe me...."!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-110386548504869594?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/110386548504869594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=110386548504869594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/110386548504869594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/110386548504869594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2004/12/reading-dvc-amazing-experience.html' title='Reading DVC-An amazing experience'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-110386044654713079</id><published>2004-12-24T09:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T05:03:28.013-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am back!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It's been a long long time since I posted something. It could partly be because I started thinking that an online diary was stupid and partly because someone said that only self-centered people write a blog. Or maybe I was just busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loads of things have happened since the last time, life is seeming much better now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For one, I had an amazing time the last three weeks. Certain people can really cause so much difference in our lives! And we become so dependant on them for our happiness. Oh, its all so impractical and not the way it should be...but who cares! I love my life the way it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And one of the good things in the past month was my B'day. It was the best I ever had. It was beautiful and perfect! Not the usual loud parties. Just peaceful and one that filled me with happiness. Its strange the way things in life works! U get wonderful surprises at a time you least expect it. And you never know that certain people will actually go a lil out of their way for you. All in all it feels good to have special friends in your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-110386044654713079?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/110386044654713079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=110386044654713079' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/110386044654713079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/110386044654713079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2004/12/i-am-back.html' title='I am back!'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-110008323680240390</id><published>2004-11-10T16:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:58:12.003-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"Why does this always happen to me? why me? oh god! why me??"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How often have we said this! Loads of times. Most of the times, we think we are the only ones suffering so much and the only ones all bad things happen to. And that only leads to self-pity! But we never realize that worse things are happening to people around us. That someone could be feeling worse at the same moment and probably wants you to be there for them, want you to be cheerful and happy hoping it'll rub off on them. But what do we do..sulk and sulk about our life!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today there was a shocking revelation that made me realize that somebody else's life is filled with many more problems than mine and problems to which there are no solutions, problems that he has endured for a long long time and has never once cribbed! And has probably needed me to talk to from a long time but has never been able to (either because I am complaining about how my life sucks or I am blabbering all the time because I am excited)! And today, my problems (if you could call them that) seemed so small!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we all become insensitive and self-centered quite easily and it takes something to happen to make us snap out of the "me"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-110008323680240390?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/110008323680240390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=110008323680240390' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/110008323680240390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/110008323680240390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2004/11/why-me.html' title='Why me?'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-110005709993176308</id><published>2004-11-10T16:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:58:41.386-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Memories</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It's amazing how certain smells, visions, songs take you back in memory lane and you are reminded of incidents, which could cause so much joy that you want to keep thinking about it or so much pain that you want to forget about it, but you can't because these memeories never leave you, they are there in the head and they always come back and you live the pain again and ......again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are reminded of people, wonderful people who have done so much for you, who think about your welfare all the time, whose shoulders you can always cry on and in front of whom you are not ashamed or afraid to be weak. These true friends are so hard to find.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the day, I sit and count the number of friends I have and I dont even want to think about it again. It is depressing! In 21 (+something years) of my life, are these the only friends I could make, the only people I could care enough for, who care for me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly at this stage of my life, like sand slipping away in a tightly closed fist, I find people slipping away from my life, maybe there is no point in holding on tighter, maybe its time to pickup new sandgrains and hold on to them gently and with enough care so that they would want to stay there, secure and happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would I ever have those people back in my life? Would I be given another chance? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-110005709993176308?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/110005709993176308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=110005709993176308' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/110005709993176308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/110005709993176308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2004/11/memories.html' title='Memories'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-110000828842483439</id><published>2004-11-09T19:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:59:08.276-08:00</updated><title type='text'>All about life!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;There are some good days and there are some bad days. But have you experienced those days when it is neither...? There are some days that I think are just not in any category. Like the ones that I have right now! I do not know what or how to react to any situation and I am just letting life pass by. Its not exactly boredom. Its beyond that, its a stage when you are fed up of lots of things in your life and no event can make you react in any particular manner. You have given up trying to make things allright, trying to win over people, trying to make better sense of your existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think noone has ever made sense of his/her existence. Do we know why we are here? What is the purpose that we are dropped down to execute? Do we execute it no matter what? Dont they depend on the decisions we take? Will we ever know if we have already done it? I think not! I think there are lot of mysteries that we will never solve, so many secrets we will never be able to unfold. Maybe thats why life is so unpredictable, exciting and beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are somethings better left as they are, than being analysed. I realized this since I was constantly wanting something to happen very badly but it now seems like i can live and live happily even if certain things I want (no matter how badly, I want) dont happen. I think its all for a purpose and utlimately I will get what I am destined to. So, I decided to stop analysing why things are going wrong. And moreover life is made up of a lot of small and big things together and does not depend on one thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming to terms with the fact that we may never get what we have always wanted is hard, really hard, but not impossible. And life doesnt look so bad after all when u finally do come to terms with it. There will always be many more things to look forward to. And that means many more reasons to be happy :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh god!!! that was so much of crap that I've written! but then what else can you do when people dont want to listen to your thoughts!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-110000828842483439?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/110000828842483439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=110000828842483439' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/110000828842483439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/110000828842483439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2004/11/all-about-life.html' title='All about life!'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-109948265892977602</id><published>2004-11-03T17:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T04:59:26.470-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Loves me?...loves me not?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It is said that to love and to be loved is like feeling sunshine on both sides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for how many of us does it really work out, from the time I have been attracted to boys, it has always worked in a queer way for me! I like someone, but he doesnt even know of my existence and someone else likes me and I develop an aversion towards him! And then the constant efforts to catch that one's attention!! The chupke-chupke stealing a glance, turning back to see what he is doing in classrooms and pretend to be getting a doubt cleared, following him and his friends during lunch break( and getting embarassed when found out, ya, has happened to me!), try to walk next to him and pretend you havent even noticed he's there and behave like every encounter is a coincidence!! And finally find him with another girl outside a theatre!!! Looked like I'd never find someone!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that we never want to look at the people who are ready to give us everything they have and keep looking the other way towards someone who doesnt even care? Isnt it so unfair when people fall in love with someone who wont give them back the love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think God intended it to be that way! We learn something with every experience; good, bad or ugly! And a heart break can only make you stronger!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There have been so many occassions when I have been dissapointed, depressed and heart broken and I have yearned for someone's love for so long. There have been times when I have known nothing will work out, yet my heart hasnt listened to my mind. I have been the most insensible, irrational creature in love! But when you have waited that long for someone and finally fate decides to make u lucky, I think you treasure them all the more and are more than willing to compromise and go out of your way for them. Maybe its good that sometimes we have to go through pain to experience happiness...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-109948265892977602?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/109948265892977602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=109948265892977602' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/109948265892977602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/109948265892977602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2004/11/loves-meloves-me-not.html' title='Loves me?...loves me not?'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926138.post-109906699007955270</id><published>2004-10-29T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-11-03T02:55:45.100-08:00</updated><title type='text'>81 things about me</title><content type='html'>(Inspired by Pradyots blog (&lt;a href="http://www.pradyot.blogspot.com"&gt;http://www.pradyot.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt; ))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I love the rain and the smell of mud after it has rained!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I need constant excitement in my life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I love nature and going on treks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I like travelling (need good company)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Prefer trains to flight if time is no constraint..and maybe will like sea journey too (havent gone&lt;br /&gt;yet)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Hate ppl who try to get too familiar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Like to remember dates&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Like to collect stuff (stuff---cud be gift wrappers,greeting cards, notes, stamps, peices of paper having someone's handwriting! (ya J,...have done that) )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Like to write looong mails (or letters)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Like pets (dogs and cats), actually love all animals&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. I prefer tubelights to bulbs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. I am lazy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. I looove food (anything veg)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. I like making others happy and dont mind going a wee bit out of my way for it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. I love music (who doesnt?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. I like reading novels (only fiction)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. I hate reading from the comp screen (no e-books for me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. I love sleeping&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. I could be very moody&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. I am at times rude&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. I am quite mean to people i dont like&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. I become sarcastic when i am hurt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. I talk crap when i am angry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. I fall asleep quickly when my mood is bad, the only way to get out of it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. I never get sleep when i am extremely happy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. I like things organized and cant stand untidyness around me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. Pessimism makes me ill&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. I am overly optimistic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. I am very careful about my stuff and cant stand it when people meddle with them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. I dont have too much affinity towards kids (dont hate me for saying this), they dont like me either!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. I have a habit of tapping my finger (forefinger of the right hand) every now and then..i tap on tables, doors, walls...anything!!! my brother is the only one who has noticed it till now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. I love watermelon and mangoes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. I like SHIFT + DEL, hate emptying the recycle bin!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. I love perfumes (ya..now u know what to get me for my b'day)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. I am a Saggittarius&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. I have always wanted to be a boy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. I love shopping&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. I like finger rings...would wear 10 of them if i had ones that would fit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. I love to preach (not many left to listen though!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. I am very sensitive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41. Lizards have an amazing affinity towards me! Either they keep running towards me or just drop down next to me from the walls and ceiling!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42. I have 2 best friends (one girl, one guy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;43. I am possessive about both&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44. I like collecting different kinds of watches (have only 5 till now)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45. Nothing like mom's food, but i 'NEED' to go out and eat once in a while...a compulsion!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46. I like going on long drives...with the right people of course&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47. I like to feel the wind on my face and i like it when wind blows through my hair&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48. I always have to sit next to the window in trains and buses...and if i dont get to..i curse the one who is sitting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49. I like to be to the left of a person while walking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50. I hate being so short!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;51. Most of the times if it gets started, I cant control my laughfter...I maniacially laugh away even on the streets (embarassing peopple who are with me )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;52. I get a lot of strange looks from people on the streets, probabaly because of #51.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;53. I like getting to know people, need a flow of new people into my life periodically&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;54. I daydream a lot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;55. I love to sleep under the naked sky....day or night...love the blue sky with white clouds and the dark sky with stars equally&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;56. I like to roll around on green grass!! (its bliss to lie down on plush lawns)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;57. Basically I like lying down!!! (refer to #12)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;58. Right now, I am addicted to internet...mainly chatting!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;59. I love my room (have got one for myself after 22 yrs)!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;60. Did I mention I love sweets??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;61. I love chatting for long hours on phone...probably why my hearing has gone bad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;62. I dont like ink pens (always been messy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;63. I like to grow my nails long&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;64. I quite directly show disinterest in people if i dont like them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;65. Still have to learn how not to take nonsense from people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;66. I am very emotional and think and act mostly from my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;67. I cry easily, it helps me vent out the frustration and sadness that builds up inside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;68. I am very bad at managing 2 different group of friends when we all meet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;69. I talk a lot...one-o-one, in a group i am rather silent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;70. My mind automatically cuts out conversations that are meaningless and I get into my own&lt;br /&gt;thoughts...ya fine...I am self-centered!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;71. I am not the kind who turns heads!i could easily pass off without being noticed if I behave&lt;br /&gt;sanely in public&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;72. I have a will power that sucks!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;73. I dont like to sit in AC rooms throughout the day! (ya..I work in an IT company)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;74. I am sad about the fact that I am not taking out time to do a lot of things that I love, like playing badminton, going for long walks, writing, painting...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;75. I dont like my present lifestyle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;76. I hate Vi editor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;77. I am possessive about my pen(s)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;78. I hate it when people borrow books and never return them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;79. I love lazing around at home doing nothing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;80. I am happy to be in love!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;81. And  I love my life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8926138-109906699007955270?l=poojasblogs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/feeds/109906699007955270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8926138&amp;postID=109906699007955270' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/109906699007955270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8926138/posts/default/109906699007955270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poojasblogs.blogspot.com/2004/10/81-things-about-me.html' title='81 things about me'/><author><name>Pooja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18375421848115589877</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
