<?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-7215958</id><updated>2012-01-18T12:30:54.998-08:00</updated><title type='text'>INDIA VIA DELHI with BoOyAkAsHa</title><subtitle type='html'>Hues of India rooting from the quaint city of New Delhi, where even the streets talk about everything...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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>39</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7215958.post-5782315685344341984</id><published>2008-11-02T05:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T06:36:06.381-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Here comes the Bride, all dressed in...Red, Pink, or Gold?</title><content type='html'>Lately my mother has started badgering me about marriage pretty much on a daily basis. An off handed comment about my ripe, marriageable age...a meaningful glance at my friend's wedding card. Oh and going to the mall with her in this season is like punching a thorn bag! Everywhere there are wedding ensembles decorating the shop windows, and my mom does not waste a single moment to get on with it and mention how a deep pink would look so pretty. u-g-h!!&lt;br /&gt;My elder sisters, not ones to be left behind, have their entire look figured out for my wedding!&lt;br /&gt;They have every detail down to the T...right from their colour coordinated &lt;em&gt;sharaaras&lt;/em&gt;, to the jewellery that will go on and the way their hair needs to be primped and oh! yes! the sandals need to have 3 inch heels atleast (to avoid tripping on the fabric..duh!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right, every detail but one... I AM NOT GETTING MARRIED!!!!!!!!!! :-S&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe i should move to another city...But would that be enough to get them off my back? ... and then i fear for my younger brother...what will become of him if my family cant get their hands on me - their favourite wedding bait!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-5782315685344341984?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/5782315685344341984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=5782315685344341984&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/5782315685344341984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/5782315685344341984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2008/11/here-comes-bride-all-dressed-inred-pink.html' title='Here comes the Bride, all dressed in...Red, Pink, or Gold?'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-3547266450760155500</id><published>2008-10-21T10:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T10:48:32.824-07:00</updated><title type='text'>White Hair and Wrinkles</title><content type='html'>I turn 26 tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;I look back and see a not so bad life.&lt;br /&gt;Much has been done in these years...much more has not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biggest unchecked item on the list is my backpack trip to Europe. Sounds ridiculous, but it needs to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;26th Birth Year Promise to Self - Visit atleast one European City in time for 28th Birth Year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dont feel like celebrating this year...im feeling more blase about it this time than i have in previous years. I hope thats just because of the crazy work load at office, and not because the spirit is getting old *shudder* :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Burdday to meee&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-3547266450760155500?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/3547266450760155500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=3547266450760155500&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/3547266450760155500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/3547266450760155500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2008/10/white-hair-and-wrinkles.html' title='White Hair and Wrinkles'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-1187950638783387663</id><published>2008-10-02T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T10:30:24.703-07:00</updated><title type='text'>She was not what she is</title><content type='html'>What is it about men that makes them so controlling towards the woman they marry? Do they get some other-worldly pleasure out of seeing her suffer through him? Is this a set rule inscribed in the 'How to be a Man' guide?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She takes care of the house, feeds his kids, feeds him! She knows where his clothes are kept - she washed, ironed and folded them , she ought to know! She knows what colours he likes, the ones he hates....the places he likes to go, the things he likes to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, a time comes when he forgets that the woman doing all this for him is his wife, and not his house-maid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which makes me think....maybe it is infact &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;her&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; fault&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-1187950638783387663?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/1187950638783387663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=1187950638783387663&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/1187950638783387663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/1187950638783387663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2008/10/she-was-not-what-she-is.html' title='She was not what she is'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-4796852428589435630</id><published>2008-08-23T10:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T23:47:56.455-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What i want to be when i grow up...</title><content type='html'>Dream Job Profiles:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- Art Museum Curator&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- Cafe owner. (We'll have live bands playing every Friday)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- Travel Guide (Europe, mostly)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- Rock/Jazz band Manager&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- River Rafting Instructor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- Vogue Magazine Editor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- Silversmith&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-4796852428589435630?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/4796852428589435630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=4796852428589435630&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/4796852428589435630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/4796852428589435630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-i-want-to-be-when-i-grow-up.html' title='What i want to be when i grow up...'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-3545350405339991085</id><published>2008-08-20T22:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T22:21:36.009-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Damn!</title><content type='html'>Is there anybody here who does NOT want to get rich, or get famous...OR travel the world while they are still young? ...&lt;br /&gt;Are people more alike than we want to believe? ... *shudder*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-3545350405339991085?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/3545350405339991085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=3545350405339991085&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/3545350405339991085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/3545350405339991085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2008/08/damn.html' title='Damn!'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-4636128623493847623</id><published>2008-06-17T22:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T22:39:25.578-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Monogamy</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Revelation: -&lt;/strong&gt; The reason why women can successfully remain loyal to one man – &lt;em&gt;Shopping!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s true. The intense pleasure we derive from - looking at shop windows, feeling fabric, trying on clothes, jewellery, bargaining, purchasing, taking mini coffee/food breaks and contemplating the next round of spending frenzy, this time Shoes and Bags maybe - leaves little room in our mind and heart for another man…&lt;strong&gt;one&lt;/strong&gt; seems quite enough!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harldy any work at office today. Which means i have to pretend that im extra busy!! ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-4636128623493847623?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/4636128623493847623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=4636128623493847623&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/4636128623493847623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/4636128623493847623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2008/06/monogamy.html' title='Monogamy'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-8978518961053082328</id><published>2007-10-13T06:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-13T06:44:59.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Borrowed</title><content type='html'>###&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;women wear makeup for women to see...men can't understand it anyway!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-8978518961053082328?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/8978518961053082328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=8978518961053082328&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/8978518961053082328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/8978518961053082328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2007/10/borrowed.html' title='Borrowed'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-1786656848527368734</id><published>2007-09-30T10:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T00:25:09.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time...</title><content type='html'>***&lt;br /&gt;I had hounded my ma for weeks with my cribbing, then threats of not going to school, then tears, and finally when i promised not to ask for anything more that month, she mercifully gave in...and i got that beautiful piece of time!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's transparent plastic straps had small, blue Mickey mouse heads on it.&lt;br /&gt;The dial was in the shape of Mickey mouse's head...the colour a brilliant, metallic blue that shined on my hand when i played in the sun...&lt;br /&gt;But the inside of the watch was the best part...it had Mickey, himself, telling me the time with his hands!!! Tiny, gloved hands that moved with every minute...with every hour. Man!! i was a girl obsessed with her watch...i'd wear it even while i slept!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But like all good things, the watch didnt last long either. I was playing with the other roughians of my neighborhood when i bumped my hand into the wall...i heard a crack and was paralysed with shock...shuddering to even look at my hand!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The round, domed glass was cracked, and one of Mickey's perfect blue, metal ears had a dent in them! i cried like i had lost my leg!!...and for days after that i kept the watch on...and everytime i looked at the damage i'd caused it, i would well up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been years now, and ma probably still has the watch in her cupboard somewhere. But i'll find it some other time...when i'm not mourning my loss anymore...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-1786656848527368734?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/1786656848527368734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=1786656848527368734&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/1786656848527368734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/1786656848527368734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2007/09/time.html' title='Time...'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-2673042397742844454</id><published>2007-09-27T22:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T22:31:09.174-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fly on...</title><content type='html'>~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, she's walking through the clouds,&lt;br /&gt;With a circus mind that's running wild,&lt;br /&gt;Butterflies and Zebras,&lt;br /&gt;And Moonbeams and fairy tales.&lt;br /&gt;That's all she ever thinks about.&lt;br /&gt;Riding with the wind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I'm sad, she comes to me,&lt;br /&gt;With a thousand smiles she gives to me free.&lt;br /&gt;It's alright, she says it's alright,&lt;br /&gt;Take anything you want from me,&lt;br /&gt;Anything.&lt;br /&gt;Fly on little wing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Jimi Hendrix (Little Wing)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-2673042397742844454?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/2673042397742844454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=2673042397742844454&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/2673042397742844454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/2673042397742844454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2007/09/fly-on.html' title='Fly on...'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-3165794825498367426</id><published>2007-09-23T08:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T09:08:34.891-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What piques me</title><content type='html'>***&lt;br /&gt;It irks me to no end when....&lt;br /&gt;People who claim to be &lt;em&gt;pukka&lt;/em&gt; vegetarians dont blink twice before slipping on leather shoes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They'd even go to the lengths of shifting chairs at the restaurant, so that the carnivores can sit on the "other" side of the table!! ***CUMMON*** !! meat in your diet would actually do you more good than camel hide under your feet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-3165794825498367426?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/3165794825498367426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=3165794825498367426&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/3165794825498367426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/3165794825498367426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2007/09/what-piques-me.html' title='What piques me'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-1940658541179367005</id><published>2007-09-19T23:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T08:23:11.464-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Permission to Fly</title><content type='html'>----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Half an hour in line at the Passport office,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1000 rupees as official passport fee,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;500 rupees and freshly made neembu paani to that lech, goon of a police man, (to smoothly forward a positive police verification report)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50 rupees to the happiest postman ever alive (who delivered the passport and this - "kitni khushi ki baat hai aapki beti ka paasporat aa gaya"),&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;budget holiday in Europe....HERE I COME!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOoooooo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-1940658541179367005?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/1940658541179367005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=1940658541179367005&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/1940658541179367005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/1940658541179367005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2007/09/permission-to-fly.html' title='Permission to Fly'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-4446080053133369781</id><published>2007-09-02T05:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-02T05:33:34.084-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sunday summer evening&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gurgling grey clouds filling the sky, sifting rain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eddie Vedder and Jimi Hendrix serenading me...one with his dark chocolate honey smooth voice, and the other with his soul wrenching guitar play&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweet, strong hot &lt;em&gt;chai &lt;/em&gt;with coconut biscuits&lt;br /&gt;                    &lt;br /&gt;AAhhhhh!!!! there's nothing better!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-4446080053133369781?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/4446080053133369781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=4446080053133369781&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/4446080053133369781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/4446080053133369781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2007/09/sunday-summer-evening-gurgling-grey.html' title=''/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-321056944707801594</id><published>2007-08-06T22:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T23:10:15.862-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've been this way for quite sometime now...angry, apprehensive, dazed, blurred...&lt;br /&gt;The mundane is eating away at my life, and im being held back!!&lt;br /&gt;The people i meet, talk to, look at are not mine....this is not where i want to be!&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to break the fucking system that runs all this,  and just leave...go..away&lt;br /&gt;It's sad that i can't walk...and the ride home seems more painful everyday&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-321056944707801594?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/321056944707801594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=321056944707801594&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/321056944707801594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/321056944707801594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2007/08/ive-been-this-way-for-quite-sometime.html' title=''/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-5400796748193463437</id><published>2007-07-31T09:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T09:40:08.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'>aaahhhhhhh</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Riding the highway, backseat of the red bike, needle kissing 100, cool sharp winds rushing by my ears…singing at the top of my voice…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E-L-E-V-A-T-I-O-N whooo hooo……&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-5400796748193463437?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/5400796748193463437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=5400796748193463437&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/5400796748193463437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/5400796748193463437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2007/07/aaahhhhhhh.html' title='aaahhhhhhh'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-7861265551333587398</id><published>2007-06-01T01:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T02:03:10.309-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cake for thought...</title><content type='html'>I ask you…&lt;br /&gt;How easy is it to walk on wet sand, with your feet losing grip with every wave that washes by?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How easy is it to walk on snow? Digging, slipping and sliding all the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How easy is it to walk in heels over slippery marble floors (not easy…trust me!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;NOW tell me, how easy is it to walk on a cake?? With soft, sponge layers smothered with whipped cream and chocolate!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SO WHAT DO THEY MEAN WHEN THEY SAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;“It’s going to be a cake-walk for you”???!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Is it going to be a smooth ride…or is it going to make you fall hard and break your ass??!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;----&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Well, a '&lt;em&gt;cakewalk' &lt;/em&gt;is actually a form of African-American dance (more like a spoof on European ballroom dancing). Competitions were held, and couples who won would be handed over cakes as prizes...thus the proverb!! (hmmfff! and it was'nt easy either...people &lt;strong&gt;did &lt;/strong&gt;end up with dislocated hips)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-7861265551333587398?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/7861265551333587398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=7861265551333587398&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/7861265551333587398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/7861265551333587398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2007/06/cake-for-thought.html' title='Cake for thought...'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-2601350002522888174</id><published>2007-05-15T02:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-15T03:51:06.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Therez a spider on my PC!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xpwNPo_DAQA/RkmMpHECh5I/AAAAAAAAALo/n60OQP4YoY0/s1600-h/DSC09165.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064733893853349778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xpwNPo_DAQA/RkmMpHECh5I/AAAAAAAAALo/n60OQP4YoY0/s320/DSC09165.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xpwNPo_DAQA/RkmKw3ECh4I/AAAAAAAAALg/_fbW3Of4fpI/s1600-h/DSC09163.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xpwNPo_DAQA/RkmKBXECh3I/AAAAAAAAALY/Rn6cKAHLQRk/s1600-h/DSC09164.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064731011930294130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xpwNPo_DAQA/RkmKBXECh3I/AAAAAAAAALY/Rn6cKAHLQRk/s320/DSC09164.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-2601350002522888174?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/2601350002522888174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=2601350002522888174&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/2601350002522888174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/2601350002522888174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2007/05/therez-spider-on-my-pc.html' title='Therez a spider on my PC!!!!!!'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xpwNPo_DAQA/RkmMpHECh5I/AAAAAAAAALo/n60OQP4YoY0/s72-c/DSC09165.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7215958.post-3793846177594995694</id><published>2007-03-05T21:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-05T21:53:08.385-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the void</title><content type='html'>I gaze listlessly at the incandescent ceiling, listening to the acoustics surrounding my head…and think of nothing…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be somewhere where there are no other humans around….and I want to cry…weep till the tears don’t come out anymore…I want to shout…scream till my throat goes hoarse and I cant speak anymore…I want to walk…run barefoot…till my legs cant take it anymore, and my chest hurts with every gulp of air I take in …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…and then I just want to lie down on the warm sand…and smile…and be happy to be there…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-3793846177594995694?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/3793846177594995694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=3793846177594995694&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/3793846177594995694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/3793846177594995694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2007/03/void.html' title='the void'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-115709100945352366</id><published>2006-08-31T22:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-09T07:52:07.430-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I hope he knows, when he sees the rain,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; every drop that falls is a sigh from my soul...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;every cloud that bursts is the anguish of my heart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-115709100945352366?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/115709100945352366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=115709100945352366&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/115709100945352366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/115709100945352366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-hope-he-knows-when-he-sees-rain.html' title=''/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-115659373746267865</id><published>2006-08-26T04:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-26T09:34:45.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i know now</title><content type='html'>My writing this post has been over and above being overdue. I have been thinking of writing it ever since I met him. But my mind has been churning out thoughts at a pace that made it impossible for my fingers to keep up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew it would not be easy to form coherent words, or sentences. But that is only a fraction of how tough it is to be away from him…his arms…his presence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, finally, 552 hours after I had to leave…pull myself away from him, I have tried to gather my wits to be able to sit still and focus on penning what it was and is like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have known him for so long now, I can’t think of a time when I dint have him on my mind…in my heart. But I had never met him until only a few days ago. And meeting him was everything I had imagined it to be…p-e-r-f-e-c-t!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My thoughts from early that day were…well not so thought worthy…you see, although I knew him, I couldn’t help but think…what if I cant make him out in the crowd? Or worse, what if he saw me and dint know it was me? What will he think of me when he sees me then? What will I say to him when I see him? What will I say to him after that? aaarrghhh! My mind was buzzing with all these questions, and needless to say I couldn’t WAIT to meet him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was striding up the stairway…my heart thumping in my chest, my mind closed up because of the excessive internal traffic, my nails digging into my palms, my hands limp on the sides of my body, my eyes finding new interest in the ground…but!!!…I only had to look up once, to know that everything in this world and within me was at peace…because right there, in front of me, sitting on the 8th step maybe, was him. His eyes were looking straight at me from over the distance…driving away the noise in my head and bringing in cool, white calm!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ll tell you how it really felt. It was like standing near an amplifier during a heavy metal concert and then being subjected to NO noise after an hour of brutal thrashing of the insides of your ears, eyes and head. The searing, vacuum-ized calm that follows…&lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; was it! That’s how I felt then. And all I wanted was to melt in his arms…and stay there, forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To leave him that day was not very tough, for I knew I would see him…feel him…be with him again, after only a few days. But to be &lt;em&gt;away&lt;/em&gt; from him was torture nonetheless. And to hear his voice everyday was my candy treat before going to bed. It was just so right…to have him as mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The three short hours, three weeks ago, were bittersweet. It was only the second time we were meeting. But the thoughts of looming farewells, and the ache of leaving him…this time for an indeterminate time…the crawling numbness in my arms was making me go insane. I must’ve weighed a ton more…it was &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; difficult to move. I dint want to leave. I still don’t know why I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, sitting here, without him…it’s not easy. I can’t even breathe well without him. My only solace is in my knowing that it will happen again. I will look into his brown eyes again. I will run my hands in his hair again. I will rest my head on his shoulder again. I will fold my hands in his again. I will sit close to him and hear him speak again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will know what it is like to be with him…again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-115659373746267865?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/115659373746267865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=115659373746267865&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/115659373746267865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/115659373746267865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-know-now.html' title='i know now'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-115140858733945001</id><published>2006-06-27T04:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-29T03:29:26.880-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Monsoons Ahoy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A week of searing heat, a second skin of sweat, bottles of deodorant, dollops of sun screen, and &lt;i style=""&gt;finally&lt;/i&gt; there is some respite, from all that and more, &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;in the form of drops of water sifted down from the heavens…yes, at long last the monsoons are here in Delhi! &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Last night when I went to sleep, it was to the gushes of soft winds hailing in the wispy threads of white clouds, and the sweet smell of wet earth wafting through my window. Today morning when I woke up, it was to the sounds of thunder, and pelting rain…sigh! The most beautiful sounds a Delhiite would want to hear in the month of July!&lt;br /&gt;Well…a delightful start to the day! I floated through the daily routine of getting ready for office, only today, I had a huge smile on my face and a happy song on my lips…I mean the weather was beautiful!!!&lt;br /&gt;Said a cheery ta-ta to mum and dad…opened my umbrella, and with a bounce in my step I started out, loving the cool wind blowing across my face, building plans in my mind, envisioning them as I walked till my bus stop...&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;aaaaand &lt;i style=""&gt;THIS&lt;/i&gt; is where the happy part begins to fade...and the pasted smile on my face turns into a scowl!&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As soon as I reached the bend, all my air castles crumbled to shards of glass! The sight that greeted me was of a huge expanse of flowing water…muddy water being beaten up by the cars and trucks and auto rickshaws trying to get somewhere, anywhere…away from the river running through the narrow lanes of Punjabi bagh. With the road submerging under the rising stream, all I could see was the pedestrian footpath (rarely taken by me, what with the open manholes, urine laced walls, overgrown shrubs…its just safer to walk on the road u see!).&lt;br /&gt;A moment of contemplation, and I decide to take the (ughh) footpath (had to keep the shoes from getting wet!)…about 50 meters of trying to keep the umbrella over my head, my hands away from the walls, and my hair outta my eyes…and I come to a screeching halt as I realize that I can no longer continue walking…there’s water &lt;i style=""&gt;everywhere!!! &lt;/i&gt;I look to the left and right, hoping for nothing really, just a normal panic reaction…and then decide to brave it…I take a deep yogic breath and jump into the water, clenching my jaw as I wade through to the divider in the middle of the road (shoes, socks, jeans…soaked to the thread!).&lt;br /&gt;Ignoring the smirks pasted on the faces of leering men in cars, I shrug my shoulders proudly and forward march (forward slosh would be more like it) on the thin strip of concrete to the bus stop, already giving up on saving my clothes from getting drenched…luckily my bus came in soon!&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;By this time, im more than a little pissed off with &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Delhi&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;’s infrastructure, or the lack of it…I open the window in frustration, let the light rain drops splash on my face and calm down my angst against our dysfunctional government.&lt;br /&gt;Now that I am comfortably settled, I see that the bus conductor is not! He is worried that the bus is running late, and the rain induced traffic jams are not helping! So he stops the bus every few seconds (by tapping a 5 rupee coin on the glass window, an indicator to the driver to smash down the brakes!!), and bundles in as many rain trampled human bodies as he can…he ushers the people already inside to move forward and make room for others, in the politest way he knows how “Bhaisaab! O bhen*$%^, aagey chalo bey!!!” (verbatim) …delhiites! always polite and helpful! :) &lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A while later, and i manage to block out all noise and go back to gazing out, taking in the view of dark clouds doling out rain, green trees dancing (yes, we still have a few of them here), happy to be bathed in the shimmer of coolness…and my gleaming castles beginning to take shape again, rising through in the misty skies …&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-115140858733945001?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/115140858733945001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=115140858733945001&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/115140858733945001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/115140858733945001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2006/06/monsoons-ahoy.html' title='Monsoons Ahoy!'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-114836632820445653</id><published>2006-05-22T23:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-30T04:11:35.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dont shine in my face;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dont chirp in my ears;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dont tick so fast;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dont talk so loud;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;eyes sting...hands tremble...feet numb....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Let me sleep...i need some sleep....ive GOT to SLEEP!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-114836632820445653?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/114836632820445653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=114836632820445653&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/114836632820445653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/114836632820445653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2006/05/dont.html' title='Don&apos;t'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-114406596193770518</id><published>2006-04-03T04:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-30T04:06:46.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Met up with my school friends after a good five year haul….surprisingly, not much has changed…by which I mean that  our goofysms continue to prevail! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not everybody could make it to our &lt;em&gt;adda&lt;/em&gt;, the mighty CP, but there we were...all sinister 13 of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Managed to get enough space in dear ol’ café coffee day….and the fun began as soon as we planted ourselves on the…well….not so plush couches, and the staid chairs…but who gave a damn!! We were meeting after FIVE years and there was other stuff to think about than the comfort of our backside!!! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A round of sandwiches, coffees and lemon ice teas, our tongues loosen up a bit and the gup-shup begins…yes, we springdalians are chronic gossip-mongers innit?! ;) (YEEEAAHH)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thirteen (re)introductions and a lot more “confessions” into the evening and we get ready for the foto sessions…more gossip…teasing Salil…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week later, and i sit here, reminiscing about the days when basketball and canteen trips ruled our world…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kriti&lt;/strong&gt; : My darling baby…hasn’t changed a BIT…as loopy as ever :) aaj kal she’s in the ‘oil’ business! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nishank&lt;/strong&gt; : I remember how he struggled through his…ahem… portly days and then blossomed into a beautiful butterfly (hehehehe). The way he used to count calories in the canteen-made patties!!! “aaloo?? ARE U CRAZYYY??? pata hai isme 589 calories hain!!! Cant have this yaar…tooooooo fattening!!” after a year of this too-oily-cant-eat-this phase, his tummy went in and he got this crazed out concave shape!!! Cut to 2006, and a stint in France, our dear MBA bwoy looks much better ;) Have fun in Nice kid, and don’t forget to bring back that shiney disco ball!&lt;br /&gt;                               &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Salil&lt;/strong&gt; : Sal – The math wiz!!!!  His definition of ‘single’ –  could be going around…but not married! Dude…ure the DON!!! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gauri&lt;/strong&gt;: My most vivid and best memories of ours are of the innumerous hours we spent on the BB courts!! Man! The slightest of chances and we were there, dribbling away to glory! Betting on 21 shots with varun, and then making him treat us to pepsi!! Uh…btw, Gaur u HAVENT put on any xtra weight! ;) hehehehehe  Babe! U looked just fine…specially the second chin…!! Salsa classes huh?? Nice….sign me up yaar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tanuj&lt;/strong&gt; : The original “Rock” man!! ;) he taught us how to do the rock eyebrow lift…there was a proper muscle training that we had to undergo, serious stuff!!  Remember all those extra classes with MOM Bakshi?…damn! Chemistry padh-padh ke dimaag hil jaata tha!!&lt;br /&gt;Dude! U remain as huggable as ever!! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Perseus&lt;/strong&gt; : Ah! Percy…cute, witty, and grey cells oozing even from his nails!! The little goatie was ADORABLE man!! Our Singapore plan stands! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Arun&lt;/strong&gt;: How could u NOT have a crush in school?????? Damn! Bwoy…weren’t there enough hotties in dear ol’ SPS?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mansi&lt;/strong&gt;: doctor saab!! Ure gonna do us proud aren’t u? :) good going girl! Although im a little surprised that u still have all ur body parts intact! There wasn’t a single day in school that Mansi Sharma had seen through without having bumped into a few tables and/or chairs, and spilling ink on her shirt. :) Had so much fun in the Biology lab, dissecting those cockroaches, borrowing blood and spit from each other! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Shobit&lt;/strong&gt;: Ah! The big business man! He sits in café coffee day as if he were in a board meeting cracking a deal for his next hotel! :) dude, we’ll get discounts right??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Anchal Batra:&lt;/strong&gt; The quite, reticent person who very rarely got ruffled up at anything. Now, five years later, she remains as pretty, calm and contained! Your birthday parties rocked, girl!!! Ummm…padhai khatam ho gayi? ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Varun Grover&lt;/strong&gt;: He was quite a hunk in school days, and im happy to say that he still is…more so!!! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aanchal Kapoor&lt;/strong&gt;: The i-don’t-give-a-damn-what-others-think attitude…that was and IS Aanchal for u! The forever effervescent girl with that infectious laugh…Babe!! U make the most morbid of moments seem bright and nice!! We wouldn’t have met had it not been for ya! (so when do the auditions begin?? Mujhe bhi toh star ban na hai! hehehe)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Btw, sorry people for the horde of (mis)information that I provided, but it was ALL varun wadhwa’s fault!!!! Sigh! Wat can I say?? You just cant trust the grapewine anymore these days!!! ;) So, the guys can breathe easy for the time being!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a wonderful time that day…more than a reunion it was a reminder of all the good times we had back then…An evening well spent…An effort well made!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SPS RULEZZZZZZZ!!!!!!! :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-114406596193770518?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/114406596193770518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=114406596193770518&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/114406596193770518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/114406596193770518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2006/04/met-up-with-my-school-friends-after.html' title=''/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-114104094194795400</id><published>2006-02-27T03:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-06-30T04:13:26.963-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fender's American Stratocaster</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3487/433/1600/fender_american_stratocaster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3487/433/320/fender_american_stratocaster.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-114104094194795400?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/114104094194795400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=114104094194795400&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/114104094194795400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/114104094194795400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2006/02/fenders-american-stratocaster.html' title='Fender&apos;s American Stratocaster'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-113696394149031876</id><published>2006-01-10T23:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-10T23:19:01.503-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>No memory of a caress...just the sweet warmth of your voice....and a face in my dreams...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-113696394149031876?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/113696394149031876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=113696394149031876&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/113696394149031876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/113696394149031876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2006/01/no-memory-of-caress.html' title=''/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-112775448041580601</id><published>2005-09-26T10:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-26T10:08:00.420-07:00</updated><title type='text'>scissor hands</title><content type='html'>Last week was one of those times when life was just NOT on track! There were few, and I mean very few, things that went my way. One of the whole lotta things that DIDN'T, was….my hair!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ive always had short hair that just about used to fall on my shoulders, and it’s the thin wavy type that immediately curl up when subjected to humid conditions, and lemme tell ya that delhi has enough of that…humid conditions that is!! In fact, a friend once even said that my hair was like &lt;em&gt;maggi noodles&lt;/em&gt;!!! And unless chemically treated there is hardly any way to straighten them up. But that’s the lesser of the evils that I have to deal with!&lt;br /&gt;Now, ive been trying to grow my hair since early this year, and usually I have very little patience for long hair…all the regular combing, brushing, washing, conditioning, and tying up!!! Its just a little bit more TLC than what my hair is normally used to! But anyhow, I sustained and the hair has been growing steadily since then….thank you very much! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But all the hard work was crushed to crumbs this last week!! here is what happened….after a thorough head wash, I decided to funk up my style! (yep!! And it only gets worse!)&lt;br /&gt;So, I pulled out a tremendously undersized pair of scissors (the only pair I had lying nearby…I figured if I went finding a better one I’d give up the whole idea!). Now, these are the ones that fold to the size of a coin and you have to hold them very carefully with only your thumb and forefinger for help, and squint so that you know where to cut!! I know, I know, but damn! My hands were working faster than my brains could think!!! So, anyway, I pulled out the latest issue of a fashion mag and zeroed in on a photo of a pretty model (who btw had straight, beautiful, silky hair) and decided that I’ll give myself a nice fringe like hers.&lt;br /&gt;That done, I separated a few hundred strands of hair above my forehead and very, very carefully (or so I thought) measured the length I wanted. I took the scissors (which, I now saw, were also rusted) and painstakingly started cutting, and it took about thirty odd strokes before the left over hair fell to the ground, and the rest remained, dangling, just a few inches above the bridge of my nose. Not sure about the outcome I hesitantly looked into the mirror to witness my handiwork…..AND….immediately realized what a GROSS mistake I had made!!!! The fringe lay on my forehead...sure….in an awkward SLANT!!!!! There’s more….once the hair dried, it curled up into several tiny wire springs, all of different sizes, jutting out of my head in all directions….as if I was struck by lightening….and I don’t mean the romantic kind that the god of love throws your way, but the real thing…the one with &lt;em&gt;voltage&lt;/em&gt;!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since then it pains me to stand in front of the mirror everyday and witness the aftermath of the massacre I have caused…and this is the physical, emotional, ‘I cant show my face in public’ kinda pain!!!! Not much of a handiwork after all!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh!! What can I say….my impulsiveness has given me more grief than this!!!And I now know that there is a reason why barbers don’t cut their own hair….and im not even close to being one….a barber tht is!!! :-s&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-112775448041580601?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/112775448041580601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=112775448041580601&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/112775448041580601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/112775448041580601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2005/09/scissor-hands.html' title='scissor hands'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-112539602434578146</id><published>2005-08-30T02:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-30T03:00:24.353-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>'love is like a horse carriage ride....after a while u realise that u r cold and staring at a huge ass tht craps in front of u!!! ...&lt;br /&gt;LOVE......is a crapping horse!!!!'&lt;br /&gt;-will of 'will n grace' :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-112539602434578146?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/112539602434578146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=112539602434578146&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/112539602434578146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/112539602434578146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2005/08/love-is-like-horse-carriage-ride.html' title=''/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-111597315036383516</id><published>2005-05-13T01:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T04:36:05.230-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>o lord which art in me! i pray to thee to give me strength so i can wake up each morning and live another day....and be happy to have done that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-111597315036383516?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/111597315036383516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=111597315036383516&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/111597315036383516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/111597315036383516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2005/05/o-lord-which-art-in-me-i-pray-to-thee.html' title=''/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-111313015479068181</id><published>2005-04-10T03:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-08T23:57:17.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Im reading Dominique Lapierre’s ‘is New York burning?’ these days. The plot is being set to plant a nuke in the heart of NYC. The plan is the brainchild of some of the world’s most wanted terrorists, including the kingpin Osama himself, who is heading this ‘jihad’ against the ‘land of satan’ and the ‘infidel Bush’!!&lt;br /&gt;One of the instigators of this holy war is another person, the right hand man of Saddam! He is here to avenge the soul and spirit of Saddam, who will soon begin degenerating in an American cell as a POW!!&lt;br /&gt;Here, the aim of planting the bomb is to make the American prez to get the Israelies to remove their illegal settlements in Palestine, and also, of course, to take revenge for the thousands of muslims killed there!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; was what the plot is all about…and it got me to thinking that Osama’s Al qaeda and other similar organizations pursuing the path to allah, are fundamentally struggling to achieve a single goal….to protect the muslim cult all over the world!! I mean all that the man wants is for the rest of the world to treat the children of allah with due respect just as any other human is entitled to! And to attain &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt;, he is willing to blow up an entire city full of innocent people…many of whom are not even American!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this was not what I was trying to get at!! What im saying, after careful introspection, is that in life one has to struggle, persevere and be resilient, to say the least!!! But does this effort…this struggle, mean anything if the cause is not just??? On the other hand what may seem just and relevant to you might not actually be so for the others!! In which case, would your strive account for anything at all?? Or would you go ahead anyway and not care a rat’s ass about the others???!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Osama’a &lt;em&gt;cause&lt;/em&gt; is supported by millions of subjugated muslims in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Palestine. People who are consumed with unadulterated abhorrence towards the American president for waltzing into their country and annihilating it and as a consequence wiping off their homes and the meaning of their meager lives!!! So, what most of us denounce as the act of a vile and sick man, is actually the act of the messiah himself, for these poor people!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ps: before you rush to hound me down and kill me, let me say that the above written does not mean that I support the Bin Laden clan. Nor should this imply that im trying to justify his actions and his means of revenge. What I am validating is his &lt;em&gt;cause &lt;/em&gt;and I support &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt;!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-111313015479068181?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/111313015479068181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=111313015479068181&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/111313015479068181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/111313015479068181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2005/04/im-reading-dominique-lapierres-is-new.html' title=''/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-111208186144618292</id><published>2005-03-28T23:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-28T23:37:41.446-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>love is complicated.....it makes life easy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-111208186144618292?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/111208186144618292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=111208186144618292&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/111208186144618292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/111208186144618292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2005/03/love-is-complicated.html' title=''/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-111053791948552439</id><published>2005-03-11T02:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-11T02:45:19.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Summer evenings during childhood were all about breaking out the door of our house and rushing into the garden as soon as the clock ticked 5!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mine was a cheerful neighbourhood with plenty of kids. So finding people to play hide ‘n’ seek, cricket, pitthu, basketball…was never a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But our all time favourite thing to do was to fetch raw mangoes from the huge mango tree in our backyard!! It had been there ever since I could remember, and most certainly long before that too.&lt;br /&gt;It grew every year.... getting taller, standing there with an almost majestic pride, dutifully serving us with perfectly shaped green, crisp, zingy mangoes season after season after season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately none of us possessed the agility nor skill to climb the height of the tree and pluck the fruit with our bare hands.... so we relied on our (ahem!) aim….a la sholay ishtyle!! :) so whoever could mark the fruit with a stone, stick or a shoe and break it, would be given the much sought after title of “nishaanebaaz”!! :) (cant remember if I ever got one though…sigh!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We loved that big old mountain of a tree….but it royally pissed us all off when the number of  ‘reachable’ mangoes would begin to trickle down to barely a handful…coz that would sign an end to our quest…as we couldnt possibly reach the rest of the sinfully delicious fruits!!! (and the worst part was…we knew they weren’t sour!!! :-s )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, all that changed a few seasons later when the summers gave way to an unusually raucous monsoon!! And on one fateful day when the ground couldn’t take it any more and the roots were already weak enough…a thunderous storm finally dislodged the withering hulk!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We kids had a field day snatching all the pretty green babies as fast as our tiny hands could go…fearing that if we dint hurry, they would begin to rot!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But once the feast was over it dint take long for us to begin missing that ol’ mammoth of a king!! The storm had unknowingly brought with it an end to an era of finger licking yummy mango chutnies, pickles, papads, rassams and other mouth watering dishes…which used to be the highlight of our yearly summer holiday cuisine!! No cool shade in the blistering heat…no tangy fragrance…no rustling of dried leaves…and god!! no strong branches to hang our swings!!!! Yup….we sure missed the entire span of him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although ma did try to fill the void by planting a gulmohar, but the damned thing shed like a dog and was soon removed!! And since then no other has ever taken the place of the royal leader.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The empty space still gapes at me and reminds me of the times long gone….&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-111053791948552439?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/111053791948552439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=111053791948552439&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/111053791948552439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/111053791948552439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2005/03/summer-evenings-during-childhood-were.html' title=''/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-110701187173251173</id><published>2005-01-29T07:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T02:50:36.113-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>how high can you fly with broken wings......Life's a journey not a destination......And I just can't tell just what tomorrow brings...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-110701187173251173?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/110701187173251173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=110701187173251173&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/110701187173251173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/110701187173251173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2005/01/how-high-can-you-fly-with-broken-wings.html' title=''/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-110701176000707583</id><published>2005-01-29T07:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-29T07:16:00.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i cant tell u why...</title><content type='html'>Why is it that there exist two sets of distinct rules? …one that applies to u…and one that is applicable to others, according to u!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; It is so convenient to opine and be the better person when you r the “other” person… righteous, unbiased, practical and conclusive. But what happens when the time comes to apply the same convention to your own self? Suddenly, the paradigm shifts…because obviously we are here just to preach what is right…the "practice" part is not for us to follow up…after all if we do everything what will be left for the others?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-110701176000707583?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/110701176000707583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=110701176000707583&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/110701176000707583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/110701176000707583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2005/01/i-cant-tell-u-why.html' title='i cant tell u why...'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-109403899984393395</id><published>2004-09-01T04:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T06:33:28.236-07:00</updated><title type='text'>love - yet again</title><content type='html'>really! so wat is love all about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whn do u know tht u have been actually hit by the most famous emotional bomb?&lt;br /&gt;and does it really live up to the expectations of all the eager, hot blooded young men and women?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the dewey eyes of the petite juliet looking down at the handsome and fearless face of romeo, embarking towards the road of eternal love and devotion – till death do them part…well death did come and they ended up fading into the mist of history...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the passion tht had Helen and paris in the grips of rapture so strong that they were ready to take on the wrath of two great cities, and their ruthless emperors…and yet, after 10 years of historical drama, helen was “reinstated” where she rightly belonged…in troy…back to being just a figure of speech… the face that launched a thousand ships!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keats’ ‘ la belle dame sans merci’ (the beautiful lady without mercy), forced the hero into believing that he had fallen in love with the human externalization of Aphrodite herself…leading him to wander aimlessly in the scorching deserts, searching for her, going without food and water for days together, finally losing his mind, and dying!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three of the innumerous myths about love, three of the greatest sagas’ of love, and all three ending in tragedy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does that give us some hint about love? Does it mean that falling completely, and mindlessly in love, only leads to unfulfillment of life, per se?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or , does it mean that this &lt;em&gt;love&lt;/em&gt;, is such a &lt;em&gt;thing&lt;/em&gt; that just falling in it is enough for a human to forgo everything else…that just a few moments spent being truly in love, can facilitate one to live the rest of one’s life…alone...happy and content with just the memories of what had once been?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this the reason why only a few lucky ones have the privilege to experience this mighty gift of our god?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When, I ask my lord, will I be able to let go of myself to another person? someone who will take my &lt;strong&gt;very&lt;/strong&gt; soul in his tender hands and wrap it up with his own….for eternity….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah! Heavenly bliss, thy name is... true love!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-109403899984393395?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/109403899984393395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=109403899984393395&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/109403899984393395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/109403899984393395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2004/09/love-yet-again.html' title='love - yet again'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-109311138698718462</id><published>2004-08-21T10:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-21T11:03:06.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'>godsmack - vampires!</title><content type='html'>few creature of the night have caught our imagination like the vampires..&lt;br /&gt;what explains our enduring fascination with vampires?&lt;br /&gt;what is it about the vampire myth that explains our interests?&lt;br /&gt;is it the overtone of sexual  lust, power and control?&lt;br /&gt;Or is it a fascination with the immortality of the undead?&lt;br /&gt;And what dark and hidden parts of our psyche are aroused and captivated&lt;br /&gt;by the legends of the undead,&lt;br /&gt;The mystery of the undead will continue to fascinate the living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-109311138698718462?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/109311138698718462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=109311138698718462&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/109311138698718462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/109311138698718462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2004/08/godsmack-vampires.html' title='godsmack - vampires!'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-108998275468303824</id><published>2004-07-16T05:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-16T05:59:14.683-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>sometimes u get into somethin coz u know tht u will not achieve a conclusion....and tht&amp;nbsp; seems like the best way out, but what u realise later is tht it just screwed up ur life even more!!&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;how many time does it take for ur life to give u a kick in ur jaws before u take in&amp;nbsp;tht life, in fact, is not for u to understand!&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;u spend ur waking moments trying to get over the rotten past so tht u have somethin concrete to hold on to in the future.....but wat do u do whn the past has weaved itself into ur very veins and every now and thn whn life seems a little better, it jolts u into remembering it!&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;how do u plan ur life whn ur mind is only full of uncertainties?......how do u live ur life whn u have no plan?????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-108998275468303824?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/108998275468303824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=108998275468303824&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/108998275468303824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/108998275468303824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2004/07/sometimes-u-get-into-somethin-coz-u.html' title=''/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-108676684641310629</id><published>2004-06-09T00:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-09T00:41:55.833-07:00</updated><title type='text'>coincidence</title><content type='html'>somtimes u think of something, and its just a chance shot that somebody has also had the same brain wave! now, what would u call this? fate, destiny, or just a mere coincidence? well, for some it mite jus be a fluke, but for me, i think its a way of god telling us that there is a connection between the two! or as i would rather call it, "god-whispers"!! (rest later, coz the lab ass. is standin on my head to shut down the damn comp!!) :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-108676684641310629?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/108676684641310629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=108676684641310629&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/108676684641310629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/108676684641310629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2004/06/coincidence.html' title='coincidence'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-108668183009484682</id><published>2004-06-08T00:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-08T01:03:50.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'>waiting time!!</title><content type='html'>i was sitting on the railway platform, waiting for the train to arrive which, as i should have expected, was 2hrs late! and now i had all this time and not much to do, so i sat on this weary, iron bench and read, even though my mind was distracted...distracted by the indelible but regular announcements made by a strange, succinct voice over the telecom. this was the time i realised that here, on this platform, came together people from different stratas of life. there were people waiting, sitting on the benches, lying on the ground, in the insufferable delhi heat, and some were just walking up and down, wishing  that some rail-god (read as, minister) would come and change the godforsaken condition of the dilapidated house of trains!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as i pause to listen to the latest announcement, i feel the first pangs of hunger but hold myself for the fear of catching some dysentry disease.......belatedly i realise that the broadcasted information was of no consequence to me, and i get back to imagining what lives the people around me led.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by this time a cool breeze, unnatural for this time of the month, had started wisping, and a young boy hummed some folk tune which, somehow, managed to make the drumming of the train wheels sound as the rhythm to his slow song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as i fail to keep my "train" of thought on its "track", i wonder how in BLUE BLAZES can anybody manage to sleep admist the blaring sounds of the trains' sirens and the intermitent noise of the vocal information booming from the loudspeaker, marked by the avoidable and absolutely unnecessary 'ding-dongs'!!! :) and yet there were families lying on the ground sleeping as if there were no tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as the hunger threatens to reach its peak, i find myself cursing the delayed train, and more so, the woman making the announcements, who very easily found it in her capacity to apologise for every individual delay and cancellation that occured on this fateful day , as if it were her own fault and by her regretting for it would really make a difference for the person who has already been waiting for the goddam train for over an hour now!! i mean, LADY, get real or GO FISH!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a train arrived, no not the one that i was waiting for, but a train none the less. &lt;br /&gt; a little girl, standing with her father, waiting expectedly, rushed towards the coach which was apparantly carrying her mother. the glow of happiness that etched her face, when her mommy appeared, was what dreams are made up of. paving her way through the mushrooming crowd of coolis and passengers, the girl rushed into the waiting arms of her mother.&lt;br /&gt; the affectionate intensity of that embrace was like a breath of fresh air for me, who had all but lost it, waiting!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;continuing to sit on the increasingly uncomfortable bench, being pushed into submitting to my hunger, i am still on tenterhooks, steadily reaching the end of my tether and silently mumbling profanities to anybody who was even remotely connected with the railway administration!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"may i have your attention please, the friggin train that you are waiting for is running late. i know you are sitting on the platform, hungry and uncomfortable, loosing it by the second, while i am in an airconditioned room making these nonsensical announcements, and being paid for it! the inconvinience is deeply regretted!" DING-DONG!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-108668183009484682?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/108668183009484682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=108668183009484682&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/108668183009484682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/108668183009484682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2004/06/waiting-time.html' title='waiting time!!'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-108643955202613541</id><published>2004-06-05T05:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-05T05:45:52.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FATE</title><content type='html'>Fate is the power looked upon as controlling all events!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It as a way of altering the road of life;&lt;br /&gt;It knows everything...it has lived everything;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has given tears to a widowed mother;&lt;br /&gt;And inflicted pain on a heartbroken lover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fate makes u rise and is the cause of ur fall;&lt;br /&gt;But u believe in it and so do we all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fate beckons u to keep going even though&lt;br /&gt; it was the one to make u stop;&lt;br /&gt;Fate gives u the power to decide,&lt;br /&gt; to harvest ur own crop!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-108643955202613541?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/108643955202613541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=108643955202613541&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/108643955202613541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/108643955202613541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2004/06/fate.html' title='FATE'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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-7215958.post-108643912205342972</id><published>2004-06-05T05:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-05T05:38:42.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BELIEVE</title><content type='html'>Believe in yourself, for what you live;&lt;br /&gt;Believe in charity, your power to give;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Believe in the sunset, for "everything tht goes up must come down";&lt;br /&gt;Believe in love as "it makes the world go round";&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Believe in truth even though it may be tough;&lt;br /&gt;Believe in living even though the road of life is rough;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Believe, that sadness is a passing phase,&lt;br /&gt; and that happiness is like the sun shining through the misty haze!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7215958-108643912205342972?l=indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/feeds/108643912205342972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7215958&amp;postID=108643912205342972&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/108643912205342972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7215958/posts/default/108643912205342972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://indiaviadelhi.blogspot.com/2004/06/believe.html' title='BELIEVE'/><author><name>S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10677831701156152424</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></feed>
