<?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-12346839</id><updated>2012-01-31T02:53:10.254-06:00</updated><category term='Story'/><category term='Plans'/><category term='US of A'/><category term='Concern'/><category term='Musings'/><category term='YouKnowWhat'/><category term='Fundas'/><category term='Kannada'/><category term='Food'/><category term='Dedications..'/><category term='Review'/><category term='Memories'/><category term='Celebration'/><category term='Rant'/><category term='School Days'/><category term='Day dreaming'/><category term='Fun'/><category term='Books'/><title type='text'>My Space</title><subtitle type='html'>..and you are welcome to explore</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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>146</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12346839.post-7564422003119563376</id><published>2011-12-19T22:37:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-19T22:39:07.667-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Chilly Bengalur…</title><content type='html'>Bengaluru is getting so cold these days. Feels like a freezer and I feel like an icecream or a kulfi! Literally chilling! I googled for today’s temperature and its around 13 degrees C! We may need heaters and humidifiers here soon. That would be actually nice!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-7564422003119563376?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/7564422003119563376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=7564422003119563376&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/7564422003119563376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/7564422003119563376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2011/12/chilly-bengalur.html' title='Chilly Bengalur…'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-5325989461407840666</id><published>2011-12-05T22:39:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-05T22:48:04.613-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>Ignoring is no fun!</title><content type='html'>I was just analysing something(you could say a life situation) and wondered if things can be ignored or if one pretends things dint happen or don’t exist will it do you good. Well, for a hurt, healing starts when we accept something went wrong. So acknowledging, accepting, fixing what went wrong (to whatever extent you can) and building immunity should be on the to-do list. Came up with an analogy. If you have a fractured limb, you just cannot pretend there is nothing wrong with that limb for obvious reasons. For the fear of attracting attention, you cannot just remove the plaster/bandage - that will not help you recover. So the plaster is there to protect the fractured limb and not to make you embarrassed. Even with all the care you take, you may have a scar to remind you that you had hurt yourself. But if you don’t let the fracture heal completely you may make that limb vulnerable to more injuries. So the moral of the story is you would be better off having a scar than end up with a vulnerability for life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jotted this down so I have reference at a later point in time. I know I’ll need this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: I cannot believe that just a few months later I had written something totally opposite to my last post(honestly I did not even remember what my last post was until I logged in to post this one!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-5325989461407840666?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/5325989461407840666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=5325989461407840666&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/5325989461407840666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/5325989461407840666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2011/12/ignoring-is-no-fun.html' title='Ignoring is no fun!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-8374255050012927111</id><published>2011-07-14T04:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-14T04:04:40.594-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fundas'/><title type='text'>Blissfully…</title><content type='html'>Things sometimes get complicated. So what do you do?&lt;br /&gt;Ignore.&lt;br /&gt;Does it work?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, 9 out of 10 times.&lt;br /&gt;What about the remaining one time?&lt;br /&gt;Ignore!!! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-8374255050012927111?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8374255050012927111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=8374255050012927111&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/8374255050012927111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/8374255050012927111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2011/07/blissfully.html' title='Blissfully…'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-1961424335761543256</id><published>2011-04-28T22:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-28T22:50:35.846-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>Thoughts...</title><content type='html'>An active imagination and a zestful mind is all you need sometimes to get misled! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-1961424335761543256?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/1961424335761543256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=1961424335761543256&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1961424335761543256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1961424335761543256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2011/04/thoughts.html' title='Thoughts...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-3179694140799421567</id><published>2011-03-29T04:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-29T05:14:54.620-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><title type='text'>Small life..</title><content type='html'>I scribble my thoughts here and there, and now am doing some cleanup as I am about to step into a new change in life. I found this and felt like preserving it - "I feel I have a strong need to create a purpose, a task, a kind of commitment that takes my time, my energy and in turn gives me more energy and zest to live life. " And I had curiously titled it “small life”!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-3179694140799421567?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/3179694140799421567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=3179694140799421567&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/3179694140799421567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/3179694140799421567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2011/03/small-life.html' title='Small life..'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-364663531188134099</id><published>2011-03-29T04:14:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-29T07:14:27.027-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>PubLish…</title><content type='html'>When am about to click the publish button to upload a post, I wonder what amount of freedom technology has bestowed us. I have read about struggles of authors trying to find publishers to reach the reader. But here we are today, at our own whim and click of a button “publishing” happens! There was a time I wishfully wanted to be a publisher, so that I could read many books for free! &lt;br /&gt;Am reading this wonderful book called “The black swan” by Taleb in the genre – Economics and Philosophy – quite a heady combination but thoroughly entertaining. I also picked up “Emma” by Jane Austin yesterday and am already hooked. I had been wanting to read a Jane Austin from sometime now. I take longer to complete books these days, but at least am reading is what makes me happy. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-364663531188134099?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/364663531188134099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=364663531188134099&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/364663531188134099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/364663531188134099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2011/03/publish_8758.html' title='PubLish…'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-7091315200130655370</id><published>2011-03-29T03:51:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-29T03:53:38.238-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>Summer vacation is here…</title><content type='html'>Long time since my last post….&lt;br /&gt;As I walk to catch my office bus these days do not find the usual business in the mornings. The girl who smiles at me as she waits for her school bus, the smaller kids playing with each other while their parents talk, all waiting for the school buses- all these people seem to be taking a break and enjoying vacation! Miss those summer holidays! When I was a kid I used to wonder sometimes how much fun the adults have, since they have a lot of control and no dependency, as an adult you don’t need to "listen" to your parents, do as you please, have no exams etc. But now I can’t believe am envying school kids! :) Such is life…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm one thing am excited about is my new smart phone- Samsung Ace. Looks cool. So many features, wonder how much of it I will use.. :) Am enjoying watching videos and hope to catch the semi final match on Wednesday. Just hope India wins and goes to the final! Fingers crossed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-7091315200130655370?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/7091315200130655370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=7091315200130655370&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/7091315200130655370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/7091315200130655370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2011/03/summer-vacation-is-here.html' title='Summer vacation is here…'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-280275711053146339</id><published>2010-11-02T01:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T03:20:44.421-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>KP trekking...</title><content type='html'>I had gone trekking for 3 days to Kumara Parvatha and there was not much talking I could do with my mom, as the cell phones do not get any signals in the area. My mom said in the last 3 days she missed me more than when I was in US. Mmmmm I love my mom!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-280275711053146339?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/280275711053146339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=280275711053146339&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/280275711053146339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/280275711053146339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2010/11/kp-trekking.html' title='KP trekking...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12346839.post-8910451564617352383</id><published>2010-10-23T11:29:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-23T11:33:20.040-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>Dream of the Benzene ring kind...</title><content type='html'>Having a sprain is one thing. Having the sprain at the same wrist after visiting the doctor and not heeding to precautions to be taken is another thing. So with an injection mark on the sprained wrist and the discomfort it was causing for even slight movements I had dozed off while I was trying to read the Saturday issue of the newspaper. I seemed to be in sound sleep when I was woken up by a phone call. I answered not entertaining the caller for too long, as in a few seconds, hung up. Then set the pillows from reclining to sleep mode and got the blanket covered. I seemed to have slept light this time, had a dream and am not sure after how long I woke up, &lt;br /&gt;but this time I had an answer for a question that had been haunting me for a while and I had no doubts about my conclusion.  When I had read about how benzene ring representation was figured out back in pre-university days, I was skeptical about if one could get answers in dreams. I had some similar experiences earlier, but I had difficulties remembering the dream and what I had concluded and it was never so obvious. The conclusion was not something that made me elated. It was real and like real things often are, it was hard to accept and appreciate readily. But I did feel dizzy once I had realised that I knew the answer now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-8910451564617352383?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8910451564617352383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=8910451564617352383&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/8910451564617352383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/8910451564617352383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2010/10/dream-of-benzene-ring-kind.html' title='Dream of the Benzene ring kind...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-7752918589130702439</id><published>2010-10-10T22:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-10T22:38:10.755-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><title type='text'>Rajni…</title><content type='html'>I watched Rajni’s “Enthiran”(“Robot” in Hindi) on the second day of its release in the theater last week! It was a first for me in many ways including the fact that I had not seen a Rajni movie till date(I know, what a shame!) that too in Tamil. I had seen “Hum” but he wasn’t the typical Rajni in that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-7752918589130702439?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/7752918589130702439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=7752918589130702439&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/7752918589130702439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/7752918589130702439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2010/10/rajni.html' title='Rajni…'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-4045096132819990247</id><published>2010-09-22T04:57:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-22T04:58:46.514-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>Drama queen…</title><content type='html'>I just felt sometimes I see life as a series of hours that I need live, and sometimes I am just glad its passing off. You want something, you get something else, you want something, when you get it you wish it was something else, you see something, you perceive something else. The more I think about it, for some strange reason I feel its all already decided like in something like a play where the characters are intelligent to do their parts without a script. Each actor can only improvise on the delivery but the flow is fixed. The end is fixed. And sometimes there is no charm in playing the role. What can the actor do? Huh time for a coffee may be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-4045096132819990247?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/4045096132819990247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=4045096132819990247&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4045096132819990247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4045096132819990247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2010/09/drama-queen.html' title='Drama queen…'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-5181095365258305513</id><published>2010-09-21T23:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T23:19:28.053-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>Hazelnut coffeeee…mmm</title><content type='html'>Was feeling drowsy in the morning. So just went to have coffee and after many days I had hazelnut cappuccino(and also coffee for that matter) and it brings back some fond memories! I like the hazelnut flavor the most!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-5181095365258305513?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/5181095365258305513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=5181095365258305513&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/5181095365258305513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/5181095365258305513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2010/09/hazelnut-coffeeeemmm.html' title='Hazelnut coffeeee…mmm'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-9115750125604810412</id><published>2010-08-26T03:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T03:52:13.952-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><title type='text'>My sins against gender stereotypes..</title><content type='html'>I am not really sure what are those atypical characters that I have that are not exactly feminine. I like yellow and pink. I am not into gadgets. I like rom-coms. I watch foot ball matches if latin americans are playing (because some of them look like roman gods!). I love jewelly, clothes,perfumes,shoes,bags,clutches, shopping! But there are some of these qualities which I guess are not exactly feminine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.I speak my mind. I am frank and can easily give a piece of my mind. &lt;br /&gt;2.I have a good sense of humour. I beg your pardon ladies, but some men wonder how can I be funny(as if women cant be). I sometimes wonder if witty and being funny even have anything to do with gender, but a few years ago I realised that women being humous sometimes does not go well with some men! Do I care? Guess what?&lt;br /&gt;3.I want to run marathons, want to see places. I have travelled alone and had fun doing it. I mean I may need company for many things, but things that I really get high with I do it no matter whether I havecompany or not.&lt;br /&gt;4.I am ambitious in some ways. I am very clear that people should know me for who I am and my identity is not just as someone daughter or spouse or sibling. Most south Indians while writing their names put their initials at the beginning. Even as a kid I used to write my name first and I knew why. &lt;br /&gt;5.I am a total bully with my loved ones, at times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: This is in response to dewdrop’s tagging, finally!&lt;br /&gt;http://dewdrop-world.blogspot.com/2010/07/my-sins-against-gender-stereotypes.html&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-9115750125604810412?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/9115750125604810412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=9115750125604810412&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/9115750125604810412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/9115750125604810412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2010/08/my-sins-against-gender-stereotypes.html' title='My sins against gender stereotypes..'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-8315092107891720466</id><published>2010-08-26T00:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T02:51:15.939-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>Blue blood!</title><content type='html'>In yesterday’s newspaper I read an interesting article about Hilter having possibly descended from the same races which he considered “sub human” and wanted to eliminate! So much for the blue blood. There could be many impressions and false beliefs we have had about ourselves and the world which could be so “superficial”!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-8315092107891720466?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8315092107891720466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=8315092107891720466&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/8315092107891720466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/8315092107891720466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2010/08/blue-blood.html' title='Blue blood!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-4780452491317202760</id><published>2010-05-24T06:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T06:07:46.754-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><title type='text'>My lil buddy…</title><content type='html'>I enjoy playing with my sister’s three-year-old nephew.  The other day he came and settled on my lap and started talking to me. We like each other. He asks a lot of questions. Sometimes I can answer and sometimes I end up telling him something imaginary. If I say I don’t know, he again asks why, so that’s not an option that he entertains. And I just cannot pretend I did not hear him. That day he was supposed to drink his horlicks kept on the table, when I got back from office. He asked me why should he drink horlicks. I showed him my hand and asked why his hand is not as big as mine. He took a good look at our hands and asked “Why?”. I had bought enough time to think through with my answer. I told him that was because I drank horlicks everyday and had my mumum(food in his language), and slept well – these I have heard are his tantrum areas! His next question was if he did all this would he be as tall as the ceiling fan. I said “Of course”. He asked me why I am not that tall, I said I was working on it! He sipped his horlicks and looks at his small hands to see if they had grown. I told him he can only notice changes after having the whole glass of horlicks. The trusting kid drank it all and asked me if his hands had become bigger. I showed him a small change using my index and thumb and said that there was some increase but it was small. He seemed happy that his hands and feet had become bigger, however small the change was. He showed everyone at home his new and bigger limbs. No one had a clue what he was talking about, but he clapped with joy!  That was weeks ago, but even now whenever I am around and he is having something he asks me if he has grown bigger. I am just happy that I did not make up the whole thing, because the kid seems to trust me so much and he would probably not like to be taken for a ride. He is going to join school soon and I may not see him that often! Am gonna miss you buddy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-4780452491317202760?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/4780452491317202760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=4780452491317202760&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4780452491317202760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4780452491317202760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-lil-buddy.html' title='My lil buddy…'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-8243257198129384090</id><published>2010-05-10T05:47:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-10T05:50:55.781-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='YouKnowWhat'/><title type='text'>What starts right, ends right...</title><content type='html'>Whatever is started with a right intention, right feelings, for a right reason, usually ends right. With all the ups and downs that are so much a part of life, it always ends right. And the journey feels worthwhile. Start them for a wrong reason, even if you honestly, passionately work through it, and almost believe it was right, it somehow somewhere turns out to be the wrong you knew even before it all started. It seems so unfair that you put in so much of yourself into it and it just dint go right! Looks like the world acknowledges your thoughts and feelings more than yourself. On second thoughts, it all sounds funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read somewhere, "Life is hard and not always fair". The passage that followed was very thoughtful. Somehow whenever I remind myself of the quote it seems to make life simple! Funny isn’t it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-8243257198129384090?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8243257198129384090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=8243257198129384090&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/8243257198129384090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/8243257198129384090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2010/05/what-starts-right-ends-right.html' title='What starts right, ends right...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-6099704378434348394</id><published>2010-04-27T03:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T03:27:05.671-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebration'/><title type='text'>Five years of blogging!</title><content type='html'>I just realized I have been a sometimes-regular-sometimes-irregular-but-anyway-alive-blogger for 5 years now! hmmmm it’s a nice feeling :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-6099704378434348394?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/6099704378434348394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=6099704378434348394&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6099704378434348394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6099704378434348394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2010/04/five-years-of-blogging.html' title='Five years of blogging!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-4612223531413073257</id><published>2010-01-21T23:05:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T23:08:27.661-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>At times...</title><content type='html'>Sometimes you live intensely. Sometimes you sit back, relax and watch your own life like something on TV. Both are fun in their own way. Sometimes you get stuck wondering about your identity, purpose, worthiness. Sometimes what the world says doesn't matter, you know it, and like never before. Sometimes you try hard to change the course of your life and end up getting disappointed. Sometimes you reluctantly give in to the current and life takes you through the most amazing experiences of your life. Sometimes you are not done yet and its already time to move on. Sometimes its just a test of endurance, the less you want the more you get. Sometimes you pause and think. And at those times it all sounds crazy. Its time for a good night's sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-4612223531413073257?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/4612223531413073257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=4612223531413073257&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4612223531413073257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4612223531413073257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2010/01/at-times.html' title='At times...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-7825029598604386281</id><published>2009-09-21T22:55:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T23:01:44.605-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Day dreaming'/><title type='text'>Simple..</title><content type='html'>After so many years of having various kinds of dreams about life, I suddenly wished and actually  visualised a small bit of my future and just hoped thats how it turns out. I will improvise it run time to make it feel good while I write it as well. It was simple. It was a nice saturday evening, in a monsoon month. There was a light drizzle, not annoying, not really drenching us. Just chilly enough to keep us close. The streets were calm, unlike the weekdays. I was walking with him and we were going to Rangashankara to watch a play...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-7825029598604386281?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/7825029598604386281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=7825029598604386281&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/7825029598604386281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/7825029598604386281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/09/can-it-be-this-simplehow-i.html' title='Simple..'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-8949901744155863220</id><published>2009-09-15T20:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T20:13:45.741-05:00</updated><title type='text'>hmmm</title><content type='html'>It feels so low&lt;br /&gt;Isnt it time to go...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-8949901744155863220?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8949901744155863220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=8949901744155863220&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/8949901744155863220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/8949901744155863220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/09/hmmm.html' title='hmmm'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-6246859344304390754</id><published>2009-08-23T23:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T23:04:55.748-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='US of A'/><title type='text'>Festive feeling</title><content type='html'>I used to have this strange inertia towards festivals. I used to like the buying new dresses, wearing them and feasting part of the festivals. But getting up really early, taking oil bath, sit through the long prayer session with my mother reading mantras from one book after another. And not having breakfast till the pooja is over - this again depended on when the Rahukaala(not auspicious time) fell on that day.  There is something about doing the rituals that makes me slightly uneasy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I celebrated the Gouri Ganesha festival here. I woke up early, that is for a Sunday!  I could have brushed and had cereals. I chose to take bath, wore a chudidar and started making neivedya(some sweet as an offering to god). Made akki payasa(rice pudding), did pooja, just said a prayer, burnt incense sticks and played ganesh bhajans on my laptop. Offered some fruits and the payasa to god and had brunch feast - pulav, curry, payasa. The whole thing was just my way of celebrating a festival and I liked it, terms and conditions were bare minimum. Liked something about the whole thing and had a great feeling about the festival. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is one thing about Ganesh Chaturthi that I remember from childhood. On the festival, one should not see the moon. The story goes that when Lord Ganesha was going on his vehicle-rat, the Moon laughed at the sight since he found it comical. Lord Ganesha became angry and cursed him that on Ganesha Chaturthi, if someone sees the moon, that person will get blamed for some kind of theft that he did not do. So one should not see the moon on Ganesh Chaturthi. Incase you do as a redemption you need to listen to this  story, this is what is believed.  In my neighbourhood, the story used to get read later in the evening so that all the “sinners” who watched the moon get to attend this session. It used to be really long. There was one mischievous boy in my locality. If by mistake he saw the moon, he would make sure every kid in the street saw the moon, so that he had company to hear the story! I used to warn myself, not to see him rather than the moon on Ganesh Chaturthi! Now when I look back it makes me smile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-6246859344304390754?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/6246859344304390754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=6246859344304390754&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6246859344304390754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6246859344304390754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/08/festive-feeling.html' title='Festive feeling'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-2138604241814032612</id><published>2009-08-10T00:21:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T00:25:43.443-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='US of A'/><title type='text'>Some more cleansing…</title><content type='html'>When I first came to know I had to also clean the toilet sometimes here, since people who stay with me also take turns to do it, no maid comes over to clean it - it was like “no way“. So had I never cleaned a toilet before, well it now looks almost shameful to admit, but - “No”. I couldn’t understand how I would do it. It was not about not knowing how to clean it, it was about “me” and “cleaning the toilet”. Somehow something felt out of place. I put on the gloves and felt the smell of the cleaning agent was very strong and suffocating. I cringed at the thought. I just told myself it had to be done and so do it as fast as possible and be done with it. Ever since, I have cleaned the toilet a few times, but now I don’t cringe at the thought. It is just another chore. Last time I cleaned it, I took a good look and took some pride at my literally neat job. It has in its own way cleaned me of some notions which I dint need in life - anyways!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-2138604241814032612?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/2138604241814032612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=2138604241814032612&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/2138604241814032612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/2138604241814032612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/08/some-more-cleansing.html' title='Some more cleansing…'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-681058785902395208</id><published>2009-06-22T21:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T22:17:21.859-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>On myself</title><content type='html'>I got a reminder for some networking site from God-knows-which-link, I usually ignore such mails, but for a change went to it, I checked and found that I had written this about myself :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Am very cool, honest, responsible. And am quite polite and never politically correct! There are very few things in the world I am scared of; love my family, have great friends and love music, reading, writing. Have a great urge to see places..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mostly find myself self doubting and unsure about most things, but when I write something about myself, I appear to be so perfectly sure, I wonder how. I wonder why. At a later point when I read it, it looks most amusing to me! I wonder why. I wonder how.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-681058785902395208?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/681058785902395208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=681058785902395208&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/681058785902395208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/681058785902395208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/06/on-myself.html' title='On myself'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-848909395881256303</id><published>2009-05-17T19:13:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T19:19:00.407-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shadow Play...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IUId0JOUlk8/ShCpZ77YeKI/AAAAAAAABjo/k4oupBC2Hd8/s1600-h/Shadow+Play+007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IUId0JOUlk8/ShCpZ77YeKI/AAAAAAAABjo/k4oupBC2Hd8/s320/Shadow+Play+007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336951821482621090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IUId0JOUlk8/ShCpZwOhawI/AAAAAAAABjg/OWr4cBaC2nk/s1600-h/Shadow+Play+008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IUId0JOUlk8/ShCpZwOhawI/AAAAAAAABjg/OWr4cBaC2nk/s320/Shadow+Play+008.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336951818341673730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IUId0JOUlk8/ShCpZp_XGiI/AAAAAAAABjY/vk4I6rBFGK8/s1600-h/Shadow+Play+0061.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IUId0JOUlk8/ShCpZp_XGiI/AAAAAAAABjY/vk4I6rBFGK8/s320/Shadow+Play+0061.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336951816667470370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IUId0JOUlk8/ShCpZSrO_UI/AAAAAAAABjQ/QZeqgiTUHxQ/s1600-h/Shadow+Play+010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IUId0JOUlk8/ShCpZSrO_UI/AAAAAAAABjQ/QZeqgiTUHxQ/s320/Shadow+Play+010.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336951810409037122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-848909395881256303?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/848909395881256303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=848909395881256303&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/848909395881256303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/848909395881256303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/05/shadow-play.html' title='Shadow Play...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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/_IUId0JOUlk8/ShCpZ77YeKI/AAAAAAAABjo/k4oupBC2Hd8/s72-c/Shadow+Play+007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12346839.post-1493275535007948296</id><published>2009-05-15T22:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T22:15:37.875-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IUId0JOUlk8/Sg4u_mDx5fI/AAAAAAAABeA/-hUlmV922K8/s1600-h/sky+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IUId0JOUlk8/Sg4u_mDx5fI/AAAAAAAABeA/-hUlmV922K8/s320/sky+003.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336254278563653106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-1493275535007948296?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/1493275535007948296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=1493275535007948296&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1493275535007948296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1493275535007948296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IUId0JOUlk8/Sg4u_mDx5fI/AAAAAAAABeA/-hUlmV922K8/s72-c/sky+003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12346839.post-8799904535532098271</id><published>2009-05-10T22:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T22:42:41.767-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dedications..'/><title type='text'>Happy mother's day!</title><content type='html'>I was telling my mother about someone who works with me, and referred to him as a "foreigner". My mother asked me which country he comes from and when I told her he is an American, she pointed out that I am the "foreigner" and not him! I felt immensely proud of her, I have always felt, I admire her for her intelligence, her kindness, her affection, her attention to detail, her reasoning, her individuality, her courage, her strength, her patience, how she respects people for what they are rather than what they do for a living. There are several times when I have told her she cannot understand this and that, like when I speak about my work and she asks me questions. She tells me she cannot understand only those things that she has no interest in or has no use for, but everything else she can. She is very confident in her expression, so very right in her attitude. I always used to get irritated when she used to force a friend to have something to eat or drink when they come home, she even offers coffee to the milk-man on cold mornings - I now understand this is what is being human all about. &lt;br /&gt;She has always been there for me, every single time I needed her. I have only grown proud of her with time. As far as I understand it, being my mother is a tough job. When I was a kid, our maid servant's daughter used to come and wait for her mother in our backyard. My mother used to give her some snacks while she waited. Her nick name was "Putty"( which means "little one" in Kannada, and sometimes my dad refers to me like that). So if at all my mother used to call her "Putty" I used to create a ruckus! The only other kid my mother could show any affection was my sibling. No one else. Years later when our pet dog used to bark uncontrollably when my mother used to just talk to our neighbour's new pet pup from our garden(oh yes, we do "talk" to our pets), his reactions used to remind me of myself! She forgave us both heartily for it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I love my mother for letting me be whatever I am. I call her Amma, ammu, ammi, maaaa, mom, and sometimes by her name! I love her name, and I bet if someone heard both our names and had to guess which name is the daughter's, they would probably think hers was!(Oh yes, mine is such an old fashioned name!) Amma, I love you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy mothers' day to all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-8799904535532098271?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8799904535532098271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=8799904535532098271&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/8799904535532098271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/8799904535532098271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/05/happy-mothers-day.html' title='Happy mother&apos;s day!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-2576293906175812566</id><published>2009-05-04T22:00:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T22:11:25.571-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>Recession…</title><content type='html'>What good recession has done to us:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Going green. All the hoopla about conservation, environment – well how about saying being environmentally friendly is being nice on our pockets. The environmentalists had been shouting from the rooftops and not many corporates even took notice – now that energy conversation means lesser electricity bills, saving money by recycling etc everyone is getting the message! Just see the change! If you are a business, not going green can mean going green with envy to see your competition making more money. Years ago I used to wonder where we are going.Now I know we are on track! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Ever paused and thought about your money. Especially in India among my generation, saving for rainy day seemed almost mythical. Savings seemed to be something that old fashioned people(read parents) did! Saving was never a discussion to be done openly. You would probably get ridiculed if you mention saving, planning etc when economy was going great! What seemed to be a private matter(savings!) is now public, people, ads, media, forums talk saving. Its not out of fashion to be talking about saving money! I used to think US of A was leading the world in teaching consumerism, but I see a lot of awareness being created on saving, and ads boasting of frugality!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. A couple of years ago, I used to wonder -look at our banks, the way things never looked up, the way overseas banks seemed to give so many benefits, so little guarantees sought. Our folks only seemed to be so painfully old fashioned. I somehow could not understand how they planned to survive against such competition that any customer would find irresistible. There you go! Boom –the bank that used to exist yesterday is now gone! No one knows how or why! Again, it turns out that it’s the “values” that really weren’t in their right places and brought down whatever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being middle class in India, means being weighed down by “values”. You like it or not, you have to take it.  There were times when I was almost sure it could take us nowhere.  I don’t claim to be the most honest person or the fairest or never to have done anything wrong– but there were sometimes when I played fair and lost the game, now when I look back they don’t even seem like disappointments, but at a certain age – certain things seem big and important - I had felt cheated. I would tell my mother – had she not taught me the crap(I meant “values”) I would have been far more successful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I somehow feel all the disappointment melt, and in fact some “joy” when I put all the “blame” of my not making something on my mother. She gives me that knowing smile followed by an affectionate hug, which probably make all those disappointments worthwhile! Haha. Opps, now I almost homesick!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bottom line is "values" are here to stay, you like them or not, you stick by them or not! When going gets tough, the tough get going!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-2576293906175812566?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/2576293906175812566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=2576293906175812566&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/2576293906175812566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/2576293906175812566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/05/recession.html' title='Recession…'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-5737093550996207881</id><published>2009-04-30T23:43:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T23:49:20.478-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Jeezzz….</title><content type='html'>I suddenly find myself wondering will I really get to meet someone who is “made for me”. I sometimes don’t feel great when I see people I know talking about their “love”. I wonder when will I get my turn. Whenever I thought I was in love, it seemed its pure imagination! Now it makes me smile, but I would be greatly be disappointed at my own findings then! A couple of time I thought of “risk”ing to take the chance, I never was able to take it! So I guess I don’t think arranged marriages kill the fantasy of “finding” the right person. I know what kind of a person I do not want to spend the rest of my life, but do I really know what kind of person I want to spend the rest of my life with. And when some married people crib about all the difficulties, I wonder if they can be true! Just today someone told me, I am so lucky to be single. For God’s sake can someone also tell me why? They tell me to enjoy as long as it lasts, but what is “it“? :) I think it’s a nice feeling to have someone fully for myself, hopefully every feeling I feel matters to him, the smile on my face would matter to him. I tell myself I have better things to do, but sometimes I let my mind wander, wonder about these things, sometimes it makes me happy hoping - he probably sings well, may share reading interest with me and so on, sometimes it makes me sad. I wonder if the sadness is true or wallowing in some kind of self pity at someone’s “sympathetic” comments! It is more like - “who cares, it will happen when it is meant to happen, I cant be sad hoping one day someone will make me very happy forever, I have to find my own happyness and live it! So let me keep having fun..When that my “someone special” comes along will just have more fun.”..But sometimes like now, I want to be sad(Oh damn it!)...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-5737093550996207881?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/5737093550996207881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=5737093550996207881&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/5737093550996207881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/5737093550996207881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/04/jeezzz.html' title='Jeezzz….'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-6449813488623974181</id><published>2009-04-28T21:50:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T22:50:03.326-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='US of A'/><title type='text'>Until...</title><content type='html'>There are somethings you do for the first time, and until then you were never sure you could do such things. Like,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I dint know I could watch three movies in a row, until last saturday. I watched "Life is beautiful", "Pursuit of happyness" and "Forrest Gump" (After the first two, especially during the second one throughout which I had a lump in my throat, Forrest Gump was a relief in several ways!) They were all amazing movies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I was never sure I could walk normally with a pair of shoes with pointed heels(about 2.5 inches) until I bought one two weeks ago! God bless me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there are others, which even after the several times, keep coming back and make you wonder. Like,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. From past 3-4 weeks I had not managed to read a book completely. I would read half way and then just not complete, I was wondering if it had anything to do with the number of movies I was watching, until I picked up "the curious incident of the dog in night-time" - quite a mouthful, but quite interesting and my reading levels are back to normal - I am relieved that my romance with literature is still alive!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I thought I wasnt missing home so much also, until I asked my father on sunday if he still went to have idly-vada at that restaurant on sundays when I used to accompany him for a walk in the morning and then pester him to have idly-vada with me(I dont know what is with my dad and his stubbornness of not having breakfast till he takes a bath! He needs a lot of persuasion, but then I am as stubborn as him!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I was thinking I dint have much to write on the blog these days, until...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-6449813488623974181?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/6449813488623974181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=6449813488623974181&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6449813488623974181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6449813488623974181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/04/until.html' title='Until...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-814739384851066471</id><published>2009-04-18T22:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T23:27:22.742-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='US of A'/><title type='text'>My cooking trivias!</title><content type='html'>I made "Akki rotti"(rice rotti) today. Yuhooooo! So whats the big deal. I thought this was a difficult stuff to make, the way I have seen it done at home, looks like a lot of effort. It tastes yummy with all the curries, but is a lot of trouble. I cheated on the procedure, but who cares, it more or less turned out to be akki rotti. I have never felt so good about this aspect of life. Now I can think of something, try cooking it and enjoy it. I had never cooked n my life till this Jan - yes, three months ago I had no clue if I could cook! It appeared pathetic. You cannot have food outside all the time - one, because you have limited choices as a vegetarian and have to keep thinking of different restaurants almost everyday in order not to get bored, two- because unlike in Bangalore, here looks like an expensive affair! But as a rule, every friday my lunch group at office go out to some new restaurant for lunch, we try not to repeat, unless someone wants to have something so badly that we have to!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cooking experience has been hilarious. Google zindabad! I kinda have a theoretical idea on the procedure, but google helps in finding the exact details. I try even north Indian stuff, but whenever I do the tadka(seasoning) I use mustard by mistake, I dont know how I do that, definitely not practise! I was teaching my roomie to make coconut chutney yesterday. She did it all by herself, but was checking with me if she was doing it right. She cooks really well, but does not know south Indian stuff(and I thought all over India, people have dosa with chutney! how very ignorant of me!). Then I asked to her to put tadka as that adds to the flavor. I was away for some time and when I am back the chutney is on the stove! Oh-my-gaud! I switched off the stove and asked her what was she trying to do - why the hell is chutney on the stove? I could not believe my own ears - she was trying to remove the extra water! It may be the funniest thing i would have heard, but she was serious! Its strange to find some things that you knew all your life, and there is this someone who does not know. That is probably why I put mustard in the tadka every time! And I got compliments for pouring the dosa batter well on the "tava"! She asked me how do I do it so well. I have done the dosa from the batter for many years now - wonder if that qualifies for cooking!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-814739384851066471?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/814739384851066471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=814739384851066471&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/814739384851066471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/814739384851066471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-cooking-trivias.html' title='My cooking trivias!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-805639570326730586</id><published>2009-04-18T22:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T22:37:52.765-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='YouKnowWhat'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='US of A'/><title type='text'>Aaaaaaaah monday morning!</title><content type='html'>Morning I woke up so very late. I had gone to some colleague’s kid’s birthday party(I seriously wonder “how” I even get invited to kid’s parties, it was not a direct invite, my roomie needed company and she got me invited!) So there I was playing with so many kids, some toddlers even. Kids seem to take to me like ducks to water. Ya, knowing well that they head back to their homes and me to mine at the end of all of it, I like to spend time with kids this way. So I thoroughly enjoyed myself, played, ate, got exhausted and slept like a rock. Morning I wake up to see I am late. Oh my god! And not a soul at home, everyone has gone to office. I panicked, then relaxed, then again panicked, got out of bed, worked out mentally whats the fastest way of doing things to catch the next bus. When I was brushing I found myself very angry with my room mate, there I was last night attending the party for her, but could she not have bothered to wake me up in the morning. Damn everyone. I ofcourse had enjoyed myself, but …Oh god, all my thoughts had taken over 3 minutes of my time and I was still holding the brush and moving gently all the time. I cursed myself, because I take a long time to brush and cant do it in a hurry. I decided in the next ten minutes am dressed and ready. It took me another four minutes more than my estimate, but I pulled my socks and jacket, searched for the house key. And my shoes seem to have some problem when I am in a hurry. Could see the bus coming, from the glass of the balcony and ran like crazy.(Every time I run like this for the bus along the way I remember Shah RukhKhan running in some movie with a long over coat with a bag on his shoulder, in some dumb movie I cant remember the name, but I remember he looked awesome, my coat is not long but even I have a bag on my shoulder, but I somehow remember that scene every time I am running for the bus. It makes me feel from the other side he may be coming running – damn it - a very wrongly timed thought that just pops up…huh almost everytime!). The bus goes all the way down my road, takes a U turn and comes in front of my apartment and there is another stop at a few minutes’ walk. I ran to that one, caught the bus finally. I was somehow disturbed. This is not a way to start my Monday morning. I watched movies over the weekend, dint do the laundry, ironing stuff – on top of it partied. I should be responsibly enjoying my weekend. I don’t have maids to do everything. I cant be wearing smelly socks and un-ironed clothes. I will have to take some time off every day to plan for the next, for the rest of the week. Damn it! Oops I was hungry. But the bus ride somehow soothes me and within minutes I had closed my eyes and enjoying the speed of the vehicle on the freeway!&lt;br /&gt;Then I headed to Starbucks got myself a hot chocolate, at 9am my stomach was rumbling empty. A few sips of it at my desk and I was sane and at peace. I suddenly felt a joy of realization. Here I am, with no one to blame, every action of mine is only my own doing. In Bangalore it was different, I wonder why, but it was different. But here not many attachments, everything is more or less logical. So blame it all on myself. But anything good I do is also all mine. I have never been my own responsibility to this extent. Never. It is not going to last forever I know. So have fun as long as it lasts.  One last time I want to say “Damn it all” and take a deep breath. Now am good to go and have a great day. (A big smile on my face)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s: this was written last monday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-805639570326730586?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/805639570326730586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=805639570326730586&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/805639570326730586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/805639570326730586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/04/aaaaaaaah-monday-morning.html' title='Aaaaaaaah monday morning!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-631986879716265800</id><published>2009-03-21T23:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T23:39:50.376-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='US of A'/><title type='text'>Clear lines...</title><content type='html'>One thing about the US that I have really liked is the amount of interference that people do in anybody else's life. Your life is your business, exactly how it should be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-631986879716265800?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/631986879716265800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=631986879716265800&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/631986879716265800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/631986879716265800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/03/clear-lines.html' title='Clear lines...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-4181807021662163850</id><published>2009-03-10T19:09:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T19:13:35.461-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='US of A'/><title type='text'>Minne...hahaha</title><content type='html'>Have you seen a whole water fall frozen? Like milky white blocks of ice standing stiff? It looks funny. Had been to the Minnehaha falls last weekend, isn't the name itself funny? Its not a big falls, not like our Jog falls. But the sight was one I will remember for a long time to come. Stiff ice standing several feet above the ground level, and some stream of water trickling down, the only hint that it is could be a water fall. After several weeks of getting bored of snow, finally there was something amusing to check out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-4181807021662163850?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/4181807021662163850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=4181807021662163850&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4181807021662163850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4181807021662163850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/03/minnehahaha.html' title='Minne...hahaha'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-2872806326811302711</id><published>2009-03-08T21:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T21:20:03.094-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dedications..'/><title type='text'>Happy Women's Day!!!</title><content type='html'>Saw the date of the last post and was wondering if instead of an hour, had I lost a day itself? Then realised the blog still shows Indian time. And since its still March 8th in this part of the World, here is wishing everyone a very 'Happy Women's day". Thanks to all fellow-women for making the world such a nice place to be. Thanks to those women, who guide us through our lives, who cook, clean and make a family what it is, for the sheer love and determination to bring out the best in the family, society and the world in general. For all the love and affection and for showing it. And to all men, who make all this worthwhile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-2872806326811302711?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/2872806326811302711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=2872806326811302711&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/2872806326811302711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/2872806326811302711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/03/happy-womens-day.html' title='Happy Women&apos;s Day!!!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-8907120658461806720</id><published>2009-03-08T20:48:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T21:02:45.695-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='US of A'/><title type='text'>Saving? Really?</title><content type='html'>I had always believed myself to be an early riser(Ok, if seven, eight and nine is early). In the sense that even when I go to bed really late in the night I used to wake by seven or eight in the morning, and read newspaper. This would be followed by breakfast(hmm I did brush!), to which my father was always not pleased about. He has slowly grown to accept the fact that it is not much use asking me to do otherwise on a sunday. The problem was, if I sleep late I have to make up for it sometime. If one takes a bath, it would be almost impossible to get into bed around 11am! Yes, so getting up late is just not me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I woke up today, I just stumbled for the mobile, which doubles up as my bedside clock, the time was 11am! I just freaked out. How could it be, yes I was reading a book late last night, but I slept like a rock till 11am? I trekked a bit yesterday, and there was some amount of exhaustion, but how can be 11am? And most of all why did my stomach not rumble! With all the questions in my head, I realised I had not called home and they may have slept waiting for my call(You see, I am an early riser, because I come from a family of people who go to bed early!). Cursing the world in general for my waking up late I called up home and hurriedly explained why I called in almost-the-middle-of-night and ended the call early, to help my folks get back to bed. Then after a good fifteen minutes, I realised that the clock of the microwave and my wrist watch were showing 10.15 instead of 11.15 that my mobile was showing. It seemed strange, suddenly it registered. Aha, so its the daylight saving that had kicked in, and played a practical joke on me! I called up home to explain that I had really not woken up late(ok ten-ish is not so late on a sunday, please dont ask then how can eleven-ish be so late, somehow psychologically, eleven is late!). I somehow am feeling someone has just robbed a sunday off me! I have lunch at 3pm, while it was actually supposed to be 2pm, its 8.30pm now and why the hell have I got to cook the sunday dinner so early. Hmm if you take the trouble of going all the way to Rome, why not be Roman for as long as you stay there!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-8907120658461806720?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8907120658461806720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=8907120658461806720&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/8907120658461806720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/8907120658461806720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/03/saving-really.html' title='Saving? Really?'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-2756406377157081347</id><published>2009-03-07T23:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T23:36:13.221-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><title type='text'>Disney land goes ice skating!</title><content type='html'>I had been to this amazing show called “Disney on ice”. It had all these Disney characters ice skating! I heard it was supposed to be a kids show, and that had only convinced me to go. Found a bunch of enthusiastic colleagues who also wanted to join. So there we went and had a ball of a time. I recollected all the classic fairy tale stories that were animated as Disney movies. Snow white, Cinderella, Pinocchio, Alladdin, Mickey Mouse, Minnie Mouse, Goofy, Donald Duck, Daisy Duck, Little mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Loin king…and the list goes on. Even the Incredibles were there! There were some characters I could not identify. I was wondering if they had come to life after I grew out of school! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each famous story was enacted for a few minutes through dance. The sound effect and lighting effect were amazing. Very elegant music. The lyrics were simple and clearly audible, they clearly knew their target audience. The dancers seemed amazingly in control and not a single slip or fall. In some performances, the dancer would come at a crashing speed to the border and then take a beautiful turn to change the direction. I had seen ice skating on TV, but to see it in real was really wonderful. I was hooting, cheering and clapping whenever I liked anything, and trust me it was often enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were many kids(of course it was meant for them!). Many people had accompanied their kids and grand kids, which was indeed so very nice, and the whole big stadium, yes it was holding several thousands of people, was cheering for their favourite Disney characters after each performance. Some kids had come dressed in some costumes and it was nice to see them so enthusiastic. As we could not get the tickets for the shows earlier in the day, we got the one at 7pm. Many kids who were making all noise at the start of the show had quieten down and almost asleep by the end of it! Like in any fair, in any part of the world, there were vendors selling candies, masks, crowns, pop corn. I almost for those couple of hours allowed myself to be a kid, completely and it felt very good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-2756406377157081347?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/2756406377157081347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=2756406377157081347&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/2756406377157081347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/2756406377157081347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/03/disney-land-goes-ice-skating.html' title='Disney land goes ice skating!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-7663345790669216267</id><published>2009-02-22T01:58:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T02:02:31.870-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>Piece of mind...</title><content type='html'>Given a choice I always seem to pick peace of mind over anything else. I wonder if that is a strength or am I being an escapist. Wish I knew a third option!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-7663345790669216267?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/7663345790669216267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=7663345790669216267&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/7663345790669216267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/7663345790669216267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/02/piece-of-mind.html' title='Piece of mind...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-3611326050583533618</id><published>2009-02-15T18:59:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T19:07:03.421-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Day dreaming'/><title type='text'>Oooooops!!!</title><content type='html'>When you look back at some of the "blunders" you did, you probably end up laughing at them.We were doing our final semester project in IISc, Bangalore. We had to test our equipment ona vehicle and the prof under whom we were doing the project had a research person under him,who would help us by lending his car for a few times for our experiments. It so happened we needed a CRO for measurements and we took one, we used an UPS for the power supply. We took it all from Tumkur, and after getting into his car and getting our sensors set up, we realised we had not got the cable to connect the CRO to the UPS. Hell broke loose.The person probably thought we were just a bunch of careless youngsters fooling around at IISc and and gave us a sound blasting. When things got better, and we showed some good progress in the project,we became good friends is all together another matter. But that day me and my friends were shell shocked and thought that was the end of our project there. But as it turns out i have a good laugh whenever I remember it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why did I recollect all this today... I had made kesari bhath and had kept it to warm for a second serving. After serving myself, forgot to switch off the stove! I went out and came back after 20 mins to see it all black! Oh my god, how very careless of me, what if a fire had started, what if...Thank god for it.Right now I am somewhat shocked at my doing. You should have seen the container to understand. It was pitch dark inside. Hope I can laugh at it someday...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-3611326050583533618?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/3611326050583533618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=3611326050583533618&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/3611326050583533618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/3611326050583533618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/02/oooooops.html' title='Oooooops!!!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-7351089452906546211</id><published>2009-02-13T19:31:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T15:54:14.459-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>Spring around the corner?</title><content type='html'>All good things in life make me wait is it? I wonder...I have patience for things that I least expect I may have for and highly impatient for other things. But there is one thing that strangely keeps me going. Hope. I most often am very positive on the outside, but there are always negative thoughts lurking beneath when am about to choose, or make up my mind. Then there is yet another inner voice which I hear, but rarely, that always has a made up mind, so positive, that when I look back I wonder if it is me! I am confused, confident, smart, dumb, and sometimes all these just in a span of few moments. Introspection just began when I was gazing outside the bus window. The change in the landscape seemed to gradually register. All the black and white of the snow giving way to other colors. Birds chirping. Squirrels running past in the garden. I saw hope and smiled. I saw my own contempt for the snow melt! It looks like the snow only makes the place more fertile, more prepared for the lives beneath to "spring" back to life with greater viguor. All the confusion, chaos and the storms will still the mind and make it prepared for more happier things, bright and nice, hopefully!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-7351089452906546211?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/7351089452906546211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=7351089452906546211&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/7351089452906546211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/7351089452906546211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/02/sping-arond-corner.html' title='Spring around the corner?'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-3041124250440609321</id><published>2009-01-23T22:12:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T22:14:05.843-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>Aaaaah well....</title><content type='html'>I was suddenly all ears today in the bus today. I just heard 2 people on my right speak in Kannada. I could not help smiling, but unlike Americans we dont say a "hi" to strangers and smile so easily at strangers I feel. Back home we treat strangers just like that - strangers! Not so quite strange! I was happy, just-plane-happy.  I kept smiling seeing outside the window. I had not imagined such simple things like hearing my mother tongue in a strange land makes me happy. I wonder why I kept telling myself for the last few years that I had to go far beyond home atleast once in my lifetime and see as much of a new country as possible. I am not sure who or what was stopping me from seeing my own country. But I had never promised myself to know the value of all those that, that made my home and that made me feel at home. This was surely a bonus!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel completely out of place(Oops! oh yes I am!) several times, but I smile and move on. I need to learn how things work, how the system works, how people interact and a hundred more things.&lt;br /&gt;I am learning and I am unlearning. It is tiring at times, leaving all that, that was familiar and learning old things the new way. It is fun sometimes. But it is an experience for sure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-3041124250440609321?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/3041124250440609321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=3041124250440609321&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/3041124250440609321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/3041124250440609321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/01/aaaaah-well.html' title='Aaaaah well....'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-2377320985946053679</id><published>2009-01-23T16:41:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T16:45:36.621-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>America America…</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;So finally I am where I wanted to be for quite a couple of years. The United States of America. Now I had these crazy ideas that I would be very happy being here – well not very sure why. Yes after being here for about three weeks now I have grown as a person for sure. I, who had not even taken a domestic flight to anywhere changed four flights, saw as many airports and travelled for more than 36 hours. And all by myself. I mean there were other people in the plane, but none that I knew of. And I did a pretty good job for a first-timer. I did not lose any baggage or miss any flight! I saw snow fall in real, for the first time in my life. It was weird. I had imagined it somewhat different. I am surprised at my ability to take sub zero temperatures, one day it was close to -25 degree centigrade. In Minneapolis, that is not so uncommon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am a pretty decent cook, and may be more organized. I have seen only snow for the last 3 weeks. Hope to see more colours(I still cant get “color” the American way!) and more Sun!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-2377320985946053679?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/2377320985946053679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=2377320985946053679&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/2377320985946053679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/2377320985946053679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2009/01/america-america.html' title='America America…'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-3042519206083598750</id><published>2008-12-11T08:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T08:52:59.335-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>Language?</title><content type='html'>It had never occurred to me before until someone said it was the "language" problem.&lt;br /&gt;Some people behave rude or dont explain their weird actions. You keep wondering why and cant think of anything. Then someone tells you that this person is not very conversant in English and hence does that. There have been times when I have spoken to people with whom I have no language in common, like a vegetable vendor in Chennai. Atleast I tried. I feel the giving up part is the problem and not the fluency in the language. If you care a little for someone, even a stranger for that matter you go that extra mile to make an effort. Blessed are those people who can just ignore others when a response is expected out of them and act like that is the most natural thing to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-3042519206083598750?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/3042519206083598750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=3042519206083598750&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/3042519206083598750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/3042519206083598750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/12/language.html' title='Language?'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-1110207733598958583</id><published>2008-11-18T21:19:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T21:21:43.585-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='YouKnowWhat'/><title type='text'>Looks and likes...</title><content type='html'>I feel I need not look good every day. You know what, I get bored of it. Its ok to have greasy hair, sleepy eyes and wear what feels comfortable, and not always what you think looks good on you. You guessed it right, today I have sleepy eyes and greasy hair! While on my way to office I looked at some hoardings and saw how good those people looked. But they get paid for it! Thank god I am not a celebrity who cant reuse her wardrobe, thank god I dont have to work hard to look good. Moreover these are short term careers, the day they look their age they get chucked out! This may sound like the grapes-are-sour stuff. But not looking so good is also as "real-me" as "good-looking-me". As long as I am happy inside, and neat and clean outside, nothing else matters. Yo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-1110207733598958583?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/1110207733598958583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=1110207733598958583&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1110207733598958583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1110207733598958583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/11/looks-and-likes.html' title='Looks and likes...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-4955570530036670322</id><published>2008-11-06T21:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T21:41:40.995-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>Its just her...</title><content type='html'>There is this one person who takes immense liberty in your life to repeatedly to tell you all that you have known, treats you eternally like a kid, annoys you with so many questions, seems proud of every small thing you achieve, always has her way with things. You can shout at her once or twice, she doesnt mind! Then you give up. She is persistent. She has a mind of her own and takes her job very seriously of being your mother! I for the umpteenth time in my life am having cold and my mother still tells me what I need to do. For I change it feels soo good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-4955570530036670322?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/4955570530036670322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=4955570530036670322&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4955570530036670322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4955570530036670322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/11/its-just-her.html' title='Its just her...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-6162150244482770826</id><published>2008-10-29T22:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T22:38:22.388-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Books'/><title type='text'>Secret...</title><content type='html'>Highly recommend that you read "The secret" by  Rhonda Byrne. No, its definitely not one of those self help books. "You attract all things in your life by your thoughts!"."Find your joy and live it!".  There are more such simple yet profound thoughts. I would not say you have not read this before or heard these before. Its just that its all in one book. It looks more of a compilation of the best thoughts. Pondering about those thoughts itself seems wonderful. Read the book at your own pace and have fun...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-6162150244482770826?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/6162150244482770826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=6162150244482770826&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6162150244482770826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6162150244482770826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/10/secret.html' title='Secret...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-4454049366418904885</id><published>2008-08-18T05:00:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T23:04:40.698-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Plans'/><title type='text'>10 things before the next Olympics...</title><content type='html'>I read recently that it helps to put down plans and keep looking at them once in a while to motivate yourself, to think about them and do something about it. Let me try...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Attend the next Olympics in London. Was very motivated seeing 3 young Indians materialise this dream. London seems not that far and doable. Need to find out how to get the tickets for Olympics. Can it booked online, I wonder.&lt;br /&gt;2. Get a book published - any kind of a book, a novel, a compilation of short stories. (If not anything at least a self help book or a cook book! - sigh) - doable.&lt;br /&gt;3. Have at least a few country visas stamped on my passport - especially want to see a few places like Istanbul, Athens, Venice, Paris and some in India like Nainital, Guwahati, Jaipur, Ladhak. Planning needed, but doable.&lt;br /&gt;4. Want to go alone to some far off place, for a vacation - just a crazy idea, but deep inside it is going to mean so much. I will be proving so many things - not to the world, but to myself.&lt;br /&gt;5. Want to go bungee jumping. I am very scared of heights, thats why its going to be fun!&lt;br /&gt;6. Get a masters degree. - very doable, so do it.&lt;br /&gt;7. Be a good cook. I always feel, if I put a little effort I can be a good cook.(Reason : My mother and sister are excellent cooks - dont ask me what kind of reasoning is this.) I keep nodding when my mother gives me tips on cooking and sometimes she even asks me to tell her recipes of some dishes she has taught me(something on the lines of Viva) and finds them ok. But I know very few things and only simple ones. Rest all I have a theoretical knowledge and so need to push myself to practise more. - Again very doable, so why dont I do it!&lt;br /&gt;8. Get my investments right. Whatever I have already done looks messy and not very smart moves moneywise. I want to learn how to invest in stocks and shares and make a lot of money! Sigh!&lt;br /&gt;9. Run a full marathon(42kms) - the runs I have done so far can hardly be called marathons! Will need a hell lot of practise, but I love running and so should be doable.&lt;br /&gt;10. Volunteer for things that make me feel good. I know I have a lot of energy and if not channelised will go waste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah well, the list seems very doable. And the only person it depends on is - ME! What a realisation!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-4454049366418904885?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/4454049366418904885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=4454049366418904885&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4454049366418904885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4454049366418904885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/08/10-things-before-next-olympics.html' title='10 things before the next Olympics...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-217602331964566769</id><published>2008-08-11T06:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T02:56:39.225-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebration'/><title type='text'>Funny, whacky, crazy things...a Ton of them!</title><content type='html'>This is going to be my 100th post! One more reason to celebrate!&lt;br /&gt;So I have decided to pen down(ok type) the most craziest/wackiest things that I have done and thoroughly enjoyed doing. They are not in any chronological order or arranged by the craziness quotient, just random.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this nice friend in office who stayed close to where I am put up. While in the evening shuttle(office bus) I came to know it was her last day in office, she had got a job in another company. It was around 7.30pm. I asked her if we could chat for a while over coffee. There is a Barista close by and we went there. We talked about many things, about work, people in our office, our plans for the future, our families, hobbies and God know what all. I noticed one of the guys in Barista uniform pulling the shutters of one side of the store. I told her and we both looked at the watch. "What the hell!" It was close to eleven! We both were very scared. My mobile in the bag had some five/six missed call. We lived in different mains in the same block. We held each other's hands and walked sheepishly on the main road. I kept telling her to call me once she reaches home, then she reminded me I was the one who had to go farther! After she turned to go her way, I reached my house in record time! I must have literally run, I dont remember! Although I was very scared while on my way home, I remember it for the wonderful evening we both had, for all the girlish talks and for the little adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My roomie H and I had completed kind-of-milestones in our careers. She had completed one year and me, two on the same day! We had planned for a celebration. We agreed to come early and have our favourite - wicked brownie that evening. When H came back it was close to 9. She asked me to get ready and go. Me, being the cautious one(of the two I mean!) said "No, its quite late, tomorrow". I sometimes used to act like her elder sister and she let me be. After dinner it was close to 9.30pm when she again asked "Shall we". She must have read my thoughts, I said lets go(9 is late not 9.30!). Two girls in their T shirts and pajamas went to Barista when it was close to 10pm for a small celebration. It was less than 5 minutes walk and we had a great time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was early in the morning, a friend of mine and I were driving to my sleepy little home town on a saturday morning. It was around 7am and we were 15 kms from home. There is a CCD on the highway. My friend had just mentioned about apple pie with Vanilla ice cream tastes awesome and I suddenly remembered I owed him a treat! (Yeah if you want me to treat, you just need to ask, am most often ready for one!). We stopped there and had apple pie with ice-cream followed by some coffee! My friend told me it was the earliest he ever had an ice cream, I said "same here". Try it sometime, ice cream at 7 in the morning!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a bunch of friends from my home town, who were with me from kindergarten and I love being with them, as I feel I have a lot to share with them. We dont meet that often and that makes the meetings even more something-to-look-forward-to. We all met one evening for dinner. By the time we finished, it was quite late. And it is customary to have ice cream after dinner for the group. It was raining and quite late. So what, we have to abide to our customs. So we headed to Corner house(which we call "Moole Mane"!) and we were not alone. There were quite a lot of people considering the time we went! We relished our desserts and the drizzle made it memorable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had been to "Wonder La" from office for an outing. We were a group of five girls and had decided we are going to have a great time. We motivated each other for all crazy rides and falls and shouted our lungs out while in some of the stomach-churning rides. In one particular ride I was high up in the air and turning upside down - and they(the ones operating the Giant wheel) kept us like that for a few moments(which seemed very long then) before they continued with turning and twisting machine. I could see the whole landscape upside down and was very afraid I may fall off! I kept screaming! When I got down I felt on top of the world(and on my feet atlast!).&lt;br /&gt;A bunch of friends, from school days, had gone to Jog falls last August. We were climbing up the steep stony terrain. It was drizzling. I was hungry and tired. Since it was getting darker because of the cloudy weather, we decided to see whatever had to be seen and then go for lunch. It was late afternoon and I was very hungry. The drizzle was beautiful and was soothing. While climbing up, I was holding onto small plants or rock and would pull myself up! It was getting slippery and I had a "Y" shaped stick in one hand for support. While holding onto one such shrub and pulling myself up, whatever I was holding to came to my hand! I lost balance and was about to fall back when a friend above me held my hand and another supported from below. Of the two, he gave me a nasty look seeing what I held in my hand and guessing how I ended up doing it -his look said "Cant you be a little more careful? What if...". She was more worried than angry and looked at me as if to say "are you ok?". We mumbled something appropriate to each other. Had I fallen, I would have ended up somewhere some 800 feet below!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-217602331964566769?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/217602331964566769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=217602331964566769&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/217602331964566769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/217602331964566769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/08/funny-whacky-crazy-thingsa-ton-of-them.html' title='Funny, whacky, crazy things...a Ton of them!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-5045568457233993299</id><published>2008-08-11T00:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T01:28:02.861-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebration'/><title type='text'>Hurray!!!</title><content type='html'>We have won an individual gold medal in Olympics for 10mt air rifle event! Finally. What a way to start off our independence day celebrations. I always wondered why we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; win as many medals as many other smaller countries do, but there must be reasons. Without getting into the politics of sports, lets celebrate a much deserved, much needed gold in Olympics! Way to go &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Abhinav&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Bindra&lt;/span&gt;! Hope we get a few more this time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-5045568457233993299?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/5045568457233993299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=5045568457233993299&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/5045568457233993299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/5045568457233993299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/08/hurray.html' title='Hurray!!!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-4370784242614339407</id><published>2008-08-06T05:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T05:47:53.760-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fundas'/><title type='text'>Food tips for myself</title><content type='html'>1.Drink plenty of water. Especially when angry, help yourself for a glass of water("Gussa pele", like in Chak De!)&lt;br /&gt;2.Drink milk for stronger hair and bones.&lt;br /&gt;3.Have green tea whenever you feel like having coffee or tea.&lt;br /&gt;4.Whenever you get lots of chocholates, share them, good for the heart and the waistline!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-4370784242614339407?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/4370784242614339407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=4370784242614339407&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4370784242614339407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4370784242614339407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/08/food-tips-for-myself.html' title='Food tips for myself'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-4667484066458874639</id><published>2008-08-04T01:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T05:45:01.411-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Day dreaming'/><title type='text'>A novel idea...</title><content type='html'>I have always wanted to write full time someday. A novel bearing my name as the author on the cover page has been a fantasy for a while now! But even if I can think of a story line, I wonder how can I make it into a novel. Sometimes I think I should write short stories and publish the compilation. But I cant get any new story. I can clearly know where the story is coming from, inspired from some readings, somewhere in the newspaper. It doesn’t seem original. Are there any original stories I wonder. So far I have written only one story and am quite proud of it also. But it is heavily drawn from experience. May be it must all be drawn from some experience, not necessarily one’s own. I remember distinctly that I could not sleep that night properly when the idea of the story was born. I had this urge to switch on the light and scribble something on paper. The next day when I got to office I was feeling very restless. I finished the morning work with great fervour and stretched the lunch break to put it in black and white (typed it I mean). I never ever have experienced that feeling again. That restlessness to put it down on paper, that flow. I also have another problem, until I feel very passionately about something, I can’t write something interesting, it will be very mundane and boring. When I re-read some posts much later I can clearly tell what made me write which post and I like the ones which had some deep feeling associated with them. Like the words had to come out at the time to provide that relief. I have read autobiographical works by R.K.Narayan ("My Days") and Somerset Maugham(The Summing up), who happen to be my favourite authors. These people used to spend hours everyday writing, reviewing and reading when they became full-time writers. I have heard people travelling to far off places and write in seclusion, like I read that Kiran Desai went to Mexico and stayed there for long while writing the book “The inheritance of loss”.&lt;br /&gt;What gives them ideas? Are they just more observant or do they travel extensively and seek newer experiences? Are there characters a combination of many real people they have met and not purely imaginary? From what I gather from my various readings, some writers socialize to get more ideas/subjects/stories and once an idea gets into their head, they confine themselves and start writing...&lt;br /&gt;How does it all work? A restless person like me will become crazy if I turn into a full time writer and have a writer's- block! huh, scary thought. What do they do and how do they reinvent themselves as writers? How can they spin stories after stories without repeating themselves? I wish someone could help me with &lt;span class=""&gt;that...&lt;/span&gt;And wish I get a novel/book published by the next Olympics! Hmmmmm nice thought!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-4667484066458874639?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/4667484066458874639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=4667484066458874639&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4667484066458874639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4667484066458874639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/08/novel-idea.html' title='A novel idea...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-7510355346681305930</id><published>2008-07-29T22:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T22:55:55.952-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Concern'/><title type='text'>Where are we heading?</title><content type='html'>I read the editorial of "The Hindu" a couple of days ago where the editor described the terrorists blasts in Bangalore and Ahmedabad as "Metro terrorism". It is no easy issue to deal. People in cities are very very vulnerable to such attacks. Most terrorists look for places where the number of casualties is likely to be on the higher side - which makes cities so convenient.&lt;br /&gt;No sane person can ever reason out their intentions in causing so much of pain to absolute strangers and say they do it for a cause or to please God of such things or even better- for peace!&lt;br /&gt;But the cities which are supposed to be lands of better opportunities, of dreams, of higher pay packets, of a better life not only for oneself but for one's family are turning out to be so very unsafe.&lt;br /&gt;When they appear to offer no security to individuals it all seems an illusion. Did one come that far away from home only to be killed by an absolute stranger to whom you did no wrong? What about the children. A blast is not discriminating. It hurts and kills anyone it can afford to.&lt;br /&gt;Would I want my family, my children, my parents to be in such an environment where I cant even guarantee them safety? Did my small town education not offer me enough to turn me into a decently educated person? Wont that do for my kids? Are there no opportunities in small towns or we just turn our backs to them because of peer pressure? Is it just a knee-jerk reaction to the recent blast right in my city that makes me think on these lines? Will it pass?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-7510355346681305930?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/7510355346681305930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=7510355346681305930&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/7510355346681305930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/7510355346681305930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/07/where-are-we-heading.html' title='Where are we heading?'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-196099787257031288</id><published>2008-07-29T03:32:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T22:56:18.309-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fundas'/><title type='text'>Five things I got to know...</title><content type='html'>I sometimes read "five things you dint know about me" in the newspaper featuring some celebrity and many are not things you would want to know anyways! Like would you want to know if this person likes cats or dogs, or what this delicate actress is most afraid of. I mean no one gives their number there! But after seeing a nice photo of theirs I still go ahead and read it! Here are a few things that I dint know(or noticed) about myself till lately:&lt;br /&gt;1. I like to finish the omlet as quickly as possible as I dont like the smell of eggs! - I am a "vegetarian" in the sense that I also eat egg. Once in a long time when I smell omelette on the frying pan, I want to have it and then once I starting eating it, I cant stand the smell of egg, to my horror I feel like puking! Its probably not the smell of omelette that is pleasing to my nose, its just the onions and the masala, I really dont like having eggs that smell like eggs! In pastries its not a problem.&lt;br /&gt;2. When I boiling from inside I have a lot of steam!(huh sounds very funny). When I am very angry, I have a lot of energy. These days if I channelise this energy, although not intentionally, I can walk 6kms on the treadmill or wash a bucket full of clothes in one go, read half a book in one sitting, make the wardrobe and so many more things. At home(home as in the place where I grew up) I used to throw tantrums when angry and sulk till I find something interesting to do!&lt;br /&gt;3.I dont find ironing clothes taxing. I had ironed several times right from childhood, but only in emergency - when my mother had not got it done by our local "dhobi".(Although we gave washed clothes for him to iron, he was still called a "dhobi"!). Also when it comes to some delicate clothes or the ones that I like I somehow would not do it, for the fear of burning them. I had never ironed a whole lot of clothes till recently. And two male friends of mine who had recently been to foreign countries on official trips were saying the most difficult chore is to iron one's clothes. In someway this was also a trigger to try it out. I am not sure if the male wardrobe is made of "difficult-to-iron" dresses, but mine were pretty easy to do and I did not find it taxing!&lt;br /&gt;4. I was under the impression that washing my hair at night would give me a running nose the next day! My mother once told me so when I was a little girl, and I never gave it a shot until a couple of years ago when I started gymming. Since then I have done it a great many times and only a couple of times caught cold!&lt;br /&gt;5. Without this thing or person, it would probably be difficult to cope - was what I used to think. Life goes on. Mine is no exception! -This bit I have known, but often forget...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-196099787257031288?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/196099787257031288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=196099787257031288&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/196099787257031288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/196099787257031288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/07/five-things-i-got-to-know.html' title='Five things I got to know...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-1433967671697581740</id><published>2008-07-22T06:10:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T22:22:24.089-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Review'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dedications..'/><title type='text'>Chennai...</title><content type='html'>Had been to Chennai last week. I had been told about the heat and the soaring mercury levels, but my roomie had told me it would be much better during this time of the year as the monsoon has set in. I hoped it is so. But the first feeling that I had coming out of the AC coach of Chennai express was, "Is the pantry coach right beside this one, how come I dint notice while getting in?". I felt I was standing in front of a hearth. The humidity adding to the heat is what is very discomforting. The rucksack that I was carrying immediately seemed more than I could handle. My father's only discomfort seemed to appear in his knitted brows, rest of it he was dealing pretty fine. I regretted wearing jeans, why had I not thought of an-all-cotton-ware. Every sweat gland in my body seemed over working. Adding to that I was shocked to hear an auto driver tell me he would take us to our hotel which was just 6-7 kms from the station for just Rs.150? Even the prepaid auto cost us Rs.85. The thing is standing in the Chennai sun would make any sane person offer any amount of money to just get away from the heat. To my surprise the auto drivers, whether they are standing out luring passengers or driving, dont sweat at all! And most locals dont sweat. I know I shouldnt be very surprised as the locals are well adapted to the weather, but when you appear like a container overflowing with water, it kind of seems offensive that the hosts dont even sweat! On a more serious note, the city has its own pluses and minuses, like any other. The roads are good, food is good, buildings are ok. But the auto fares are atrocious, no foot-paths on many of the main roads! And then I could not understand this bit at all!&lt;br /&gt;We wanted to explore T.Nagar, where we were put up, on foot. It was late in the evening and much cooler than the day. Some of the streets had footpaths. The walk was quite pleasant until we ended up on a main road with no foot path at all! The next morning we were careful not to choose the main roads and stuck to the smaller roads. The weather was very pleasant and we enjoyed the walk.&lt;br /&gt;I have heard that Chennai is a great place to shop for clothes. The next time I go will probably do it. I must have been very biased about the city as I was comparing it with Bangalore in every aspect, which probably is unfair, but which probably I cannot help. But the overall experience was enjoyable. The next time I visit the city(I may need to go there for a week or two in a week or two on some official work again!), if I get to stay a little longer, I will definitely try to see it in a more objective way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-1433967671697581740?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/1433967671697581740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=1433967671697581740&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1433967671697581740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1433967671697581740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/07/chennai.html' title='Chennai...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12346839.post-2308038968782830067</id><published>2008-07-14T03:15:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T01:24:25.257-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>Long lasting connection...</title><content type='html'>It looks like having the same mobile for a long time is a big deal indeed. I got congratulated on being a long time customer from my network provider! And co-incidentally it happens to be the only number so far. Have seen a lot of people keep changing their numbers for various reasons. Changing the handest is also not something I do often. I have got various people calling me and asking for other people and when I tell them it is not the number of the person who they are looking for, they tell me the number and then it happens to be mine. There were some bank people always calling on my number and asking for certain Mr. Mishra! A guy asking for a girl called "Amanath"! Whom do these people think I am- some kind of an assistant to the people they are "trying" to reach! I seem to have patiently stuck to the number despite all this and so they probably feel I have deserve to be congratulated on this account! Even they must have been surprised that I have, despite the network not reachable from remote/rural parts (I am not sure if my office locality qualifies for one of these - sometimes I am not reachable here), having small issues here and there, I still continue to be their patron! So it has been quite a long lasting connection!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-2308038968782830067?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/2308038968782830067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=2308038968782830067&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/2308038968782830067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/2308038968782830067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/07/long-lasting-connection.html' title='Long lasting connection...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-2575318979352646405</id><published>2008-07-11T03:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T01:25:41.841-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>How boring...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Boredom can do interesting things to one's life. Through my growing up years I have acted on and reacted to boredom in different ways.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;As a kid, who used to love going to school (mind you, we had no exams and tests in our school!) and liked my teachers and friends, I was not very keen on summer holidays. Going out of the station was only for a few days owing to father's business and having pets at home. The hot weather forced sane people to stay indoors, but not me. I used to creep up the "compound wall" and no one at home had a clue I was out until lunch time or the maid told mother I was seen with some kids in so-and-so's compound or down the street.(Yeah we kids played more on the street than the not-so-far huge playground, I wonder why?) When at home, I read many many books or just bothered mother and would not allow her to do household work. When I was bored I would become a little devil(some of you would not agree with "would become" ). To keep me away from my devilish deeds, my parents would send me to "summer classes" where they taught me the same English grammer, science projects year after year. The bharatanatyam classes were more frequent during summer holidays(not sure if parents had any hand in this). During one of the holidays, I was sent to swimming classes, during another - Veena classes, during yet another - music classes - none of which I learnt fully. I showed very early in life that I had to be kept occupied, else people around would feel the heat(not entirely because it was summer!).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Then came the two most traumatic years of pre-university, when every Tom- Dick and Harry tells you how important your second PUC/12th Std is. The boredom was in being forced of being a successful rat in a rat race. There was peer pressure, there were lecturers who always wanted us to do well, parental expectations to live upto, being compared to your cousins, what not... The only people who dint put pressure on me with their expectations was my father and sister. But it seemed so alien not to be expected that I would sometimes wonder why they are not normal. When the tension got on my nerves I would watch TV non stop for hours. There were all kinds of tests every single day - unit tests, chapter tests, surprise tests. Crazy system, crazy people. Although now I look back with a lot of indifference, for a few years after my PUC, everytime I read in the newspaper that PUC exams are coming up, I would sigh with relief that mine is over! The vacation that I went for to Munnar and Thekkady after these gruelling two years seem wonderful even today.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Then in engineering boredom meant studying subjects that did not interest me. The college days were good. Going to college was mostly fun. But when the study holidays started, boredom would start. I would lock myself up in my room and read all the newspapers and magazines. I would lie in bed hours awake doing nothing during the afternoons, studying only when I had whiled away as much time as possible. Then suddenly when there was only a week or so, I would feverishly start studying, feel guilty to watch TV and start going to temple on saturdays and praying that I clear all the labs, let alone the theory papers! I would not venture into the street or go and meet friends thinking people would know I was not studying(how very rediculous!)! The study holidays seemed endlessly boring!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When I started to work, it was very interesting to learn new things. But after many months doing the same thing however critical it seemed to the customer, was boring. It seemed the same old (mis)configeration, same old problem, same old approach. But late hours, less sleep, getting fat only in the wrong places, not able to eat when hungry all seemed rediculous. There was a month when the only expenses in my salary had been paying bills. I felt miserable that I had not shopped or seen a movie or gone out with friends. When you had just got that financial indepence you need to excersise the power until you get a hang of it. You need to buy that not-needed stuff as much those very-much-needed ones. Use it, misuse it, abuse it and then the equilibrium of saving for the rainy day and future should come. So, when I did not get enough chance to use it and when finally I had some time in my hands for it, it was too late. I had started investing!&lt;br /&gt;Boredom has taught many things. It is as inevitable as occupation. I have loathed it, I have avoided it, have enjoyed it for short intervals, have learnt immensely from it. I think about things that usually I wouldnt spare a thought. I introspect. I blame myself and anybody if it suits my convinience at the moment, for things leading to boredom and how much better I could have made use of the available time. But even the way I handle boredom has changed over time. I have learnt that boredom exists in life whether we like it or not. At times I have either waited for it to go off or done something actively. It doesnt stay if you dont want it to. But it definitely comes back to see if you are really happy doing what you do...if not, it will stick around until you find something interesting to do!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-2575318979352646405?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/2575318979352646405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=2575318979352646405&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/2575318979352646405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/2575318979352646405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/07/how-boring.html' title='How boring...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-1588417916365982920</id><published>2008-07-09T03:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T03:19:40.297-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><title type='text'>Number game...</title><content type='html'>When I was a little girl, it was a habit while travelling, to see the vehicle numbers of the vehicles that pass by. From the registration number I could guess from which part of India it was from. Also if it had a Karnataka registration, which district is it from. Like from KA-01 to KA-05 is Bangalore registration, KA-06 is Tumkur, KA-07 is Kolar and so on. Dad had taught me this and I would surprise my Mom with the "skill" that I had acquired. Just yesterday while stuck in a traffic jam in Jakkasandra I noticed so many vehicles with registration numbers which were not from Bangalore and kept smiling at the fact that I had not played the guessing game for a long long time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-1588417916365982920?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/1588417916365982920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=1588417916365982920&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1588417916365982920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1588417916365982920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/07/number-game.html' title='Number game...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-7688879364438325397</id><published>2008-06-23T07:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T07:11:44.259-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><title type='text'>Food show...</title><content type='html'>I like this show called "Highway on my plate" on NDTV goodtimes. Its hosted by two food loving guys Mayur and Rocky. I like their sense of humor. These guys dont go to posh looking restaurants and give you their take on the cuisine there. They travel on highways, get lifts from trucks, carts and any other means of transport available and take the viewers to the dhabas, hotels and street side food shops. It may not be the best food. I dont know what attracts me to watch the show. Given the fact that I have some reluctance for road side food(yeah, may be because I studied biology till twelfth) it seems very interesting to see the road side food shops. Of these guys one is a vegetarian - Mayur and the other is a "pure" non vegetarian - Rocky. From what I gather from watching the show they have known each other for a long time now, a few decades in fact. They share a great rapport which makes the show fun to watch. I have a strong feeling there is no script as such for the show. They also show some interesting places like a palace or fort or the market place, whatever is famous in that particular city/town. There were some episodes in busy market place where they are selling chaats or sweets. They talk to the locals and ask them where they love eating and sometimes go there as well. The places visited are not based on whether they are small or big enough. Its just whatever comes up next on that highway which has some "good" food on offer - or thats what it looks like! There could be some obvious connection between the highways, trucks, food and travel,humour and me! Thats what makes me watch it I guess!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-7688879364438325397?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/7688879364438325397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=7688879364438325397&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/7688879364438325397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/7688879364438325397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/06/food-show.html' title='Food show...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-6414529637512577156</id><published>2008-05-20T22:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T22:46:01.856-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><title type='text'>IPL...</title><content type='html'>There is one thing about the IPL that I am liking. It is definitely not the cricket(Bangalore team's dismal performance is not the reason!). The Ads. When I saw the "Manu-Ranjan ka baap" ad, I liked it. It has all the spices of bollywood exaggerated! And the pepsi ad with - Em Es Dhoni from Chennai who has Rajnikanth istyle and says "All you fast bowler rascals, you may have the ball, but I have the bat! - Miiiiind it" is also good. Shahrukh's cheer song for his Kolkata Knight riders is also comical. Ads seem to be no longer about catching the viewer's attention and selling the product, it is also turning into entertainmnet. Whether the quality of our entertainment(well "quality" is a very vague term) is improving or not, ads are definitely getting cooler...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-6414529637512577156?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/6414529637512577156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=6414529637512577156&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6414529637512577156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6414529637512577156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/05/ipl.html' title='IPL...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-8976641899696127871</id><published>2008-05-20T07:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T07:20:02.691-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Concern'/><title type='text'>My two cents...</title><content type='html'>I feel I would have enjoyed being an activist. Yeah. So, there is this plea going on in Cyberia about saving the Olive Ridley Turtles from Mr.Ratan Tata. Well dont get me wrong, he is definitely not hunting them down. The story goes that Mr.Tata is keen on building a Port, along with Larsen &amp;amp; Turbo on the northen coast of Orissa, which happens to be the largest nesting grounds for Olive Ridley sea turtles - an endagered species. You can show your concern by mailing Mr.Tata and voicing your concern. Log onto &lt;a href="http://forum.greenpeace.org/int/showthread.php?t=4915"&gt;http://forum.greenpeace.org/int/showthread.php?t=4915&lt;/a&gt; and go ahead and share your thoughts. Each one of us can make a difference and here is your chance. I am told that it is already making a difference - a mail from Greenpeace says "In a big blow to the project, banking giant BNP Paribas has said -- following an independent assessment of the Dhamra port's environmental impacts -- that it's no longer thinking about financing it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always felt industrial growth and wildlife conservation are very difficult to be balanced. One always seems to affect the other. We need to think beyond the immdiate benefits. In the name of growth and development of an area, the eco system cannot be compromised. Its as much ours as it is of the rest of the animal kingdom. I remember one of my dear teachers telling me being concerned, being sensitive to issues itself goes a long way and someday materialise to action. Hope intelligent people come up with the workable solutions. Meanwhile, see what you can do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-8976641899696127871?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8976641899696127871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=8976641899696127871&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/8976641899696127871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/8976641899696127871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-two-cents.html' title='My two cents...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-7982016108528873604</id><published>2008-05-13T06:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T01:26:20.401-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><title type='text'>My nastiest best!</title><content type='html'>Looks like have hit the rock bottom, groping through a never ending tunnel. I feel am becoming into some total stranger. Am no more myself. I am full of pessimism and hate everyone and everything. The worst part is am reacting badly to kind words. God! at this rate am going to lose a lot of nice people. They say one's character shows in times of adversity. Is this what I really am? Is this even a time of crisis? How would I say am sorry? May be I deserve every bit of.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-7982016108528873604?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/7982016108528873604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=7982016108528873604&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/7982016108528873604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/7982016108528873604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-nastiest-best.html' title='My nastiest best!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-5767785444877745196</id><published>2008-05-08T23:02:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T23:12:14.795-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Review'/><title type='text'>When I saw....</title><content type='html'>&lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I recently watched "Jab we met", a second time. I had heard it from my sibling and some of my friends that it wasnt a great movie. I beg to disagree. I like the sheer passion of Geet's character (played by Kareena Kapoor). I am not a Kareena Kapoor fan. Geet is eccentric, hopelessly romantic (she is in love with her fantasy of love than anyone), stupid to get off the train an unknown place for a total stranger. Agreed. But she is true to herself every single minute of her life. She knows it and does not regret. She does what she wants to do. Its ok. Most of us are not comfortable having such eccentric people around, and some of us cant even tolerate them in our fantasies, but tell me if fantasies cant be tolerated in bollywood movies where else would you do it? After all, all that happens in "Jab we met", has a low probability, not impossible like "Kuch kuch hota hai" or unbearable like "Kabhi khushi kabhi gam". I felt the songs were quite meaningful, tunes quite good, characterization particularly of Geet was very good, and yes, there was a story(Like I said, whose reality quotient shouldn’t be a great deal considering it is a movie). The dialogs were enjoyable and apt, though they may not have been very original. There was nothing extraordinary about the entire movie, but it was packaged well. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The first time I heard the title, it dint go very well with me. I felt mixing up two languages is totally bad idea. In “Hum ko maaloom he, ishk masoom he” song from “Jaaneman” I was very fond of the tune and to some extent lyrics(as in, whatever I could follow) till I heard some English words sprinkled here and there. It was a total turn off. And when I first saw the promos of JWM, I wanted to watch the movie. When people said it wasn’t great, I wanted to watch it for sure (When I think a movie is good, or I should watch it, reviews or what people feel doesn’t make a big difference. Only after watching a movie can I rate it, is my logic). So, yes. I liked the movie and would not mind watching it one more time.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-5767785444877745196?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/5767785444877745196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=5767785444877745196&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/5767785444877745196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/5767785444877745196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/05/when-i-saw.html' title='When I saw....'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-1006491883371848259</id><published>2008-05-08T09:35:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T23:06:44.304-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dedications..'/><title type='text'>Am game for it!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It is not everyday I play badminton so well. I was hitting hard, serving well, found some good gaps, timed the shots and communicated well. We(my partner and I) lost the game by a point, but thoroughly enjoyed every bit. There was a particular volley which made me go to either ends of the court, I managed to pick it up when my opponents least expected and placed between them. There were a bunch of five or six guys(I am the only girl playing badminton there these days, mind you!) watching the game and they all cheered in chorus. I enjoyed every bit of it!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I take this opportunity(yeah, big by my own terms) to thank Vinu for getting me to play the game, and MU for getting that extra racket for me to play everyday and of course all those guys who cheered for me today. Hey, I love badminton!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-1006491883371848259?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/1006491883371848259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=1006491883371848259&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1006491883371848259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1006491883371848259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/05/am-game-for-it.html' title='Am game for it!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-8907074604189397166</id><published>2008-04-22T03:31:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T23:13:04.918-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><title type='text'>Going green...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Today is world Earth day. And women in my company have donned the role of "Green ambassadors" - So there was a sapling plantation program organised by the "Green ambassadors" in which even men could participate. We went to a place near electronics city called Bettarayapura. We planted "honge" tree saplings in the government school premises and also along the path leading to a small hill on which there was a fort and a temple, of Lord Timmaraya. The holes were already dug and saplings kept beside each of them by the time we reached there, thanks to some of the villagers, gardeners and some volunteers. It was about ten in the morning (bad idea!) and quite hot already. To help us there were our (our as in our company's) gardeners in green uniforms and company tags. We were about hundred and fifty people and there were about 400 saplings (according to organisers). There were not many shovels and water sprinklers for all of us. But it was nice to see enthusiastic people use there hands to push the earth while planting the samplings. It was a nice two hour outdoor activity and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Appreciated the idea as well as all the people who made it all possible. Hope many of those saplings grow into trees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Happy Earth day folks!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-8907074604189397166?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8907074604189397166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=8907074604189397166&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/8907074604189397166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/8907074604189397166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/04/going-green.html' title='Going green...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-3806174073987623634</id><published>2008-04-10T22:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T23:53:57.475-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dedications..'/><title type='text'>To RP...</title><content type='html'>RP is someone who makes it fun coming to work everyday. Lately I pester him to accompany me for tea and lunch (he insists he does it by choice and am glad he does!). The greatest pleasure is our pointless arguments which do not leave any residues of any sort. We fight like kids, argue about topics we may or may not be very aware of, give each other fundas(he always has an upper hand), pull one another's leg, compliment each other, hurl insults at each other and laugh a great deal. He makes things look light and bright. Having a great sense of humour does wonders to conversations. Check out these:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I was about to step on a bee lying on the ground and he asked me to watch out. Was a little taken aback and asked what is it. He smiled and said "A bee that was about to be not to be!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Me: Why do you always walk to my left?&lt;br /&gt;Rp: I want you to be always right!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Me : Oh am sorry!&lt;br /&gt;Rp: I thought you were Pratibha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Me: Want some Marie biscuits?&lt;br /&gt;Rp: No thanks, I think its made of sawdust and sugar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Me: I dont care two straws for it!&lt;br /&gt;Rp: Why should you not say, "I dont care two idlis for it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Me: Oh yeah, I am touched! (mockingly)&lt;br /&gt;Rp: Sorry, I dint mean to touch you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He thinks certain Miss Zinta looks like a bull dog, south Indians swear by their curd rice..and always gives me a lot of fundas. But I really do not mind although I mostly act like I do. I have so much to thank him for. For giving such a patient hearing when I am at my ranting best. Making me smile and sometimes laugh hysterically when I really am(/want to be) quite angry. Like yesterday he was not giving me a chance to speak! (Yeah, really!) Then when I threw him one of my “nasty” looks, he told me what was on my mind and then said that’s why there is no need for me to talk – how mean! I started smiling and then couldn’t pretend to be angry, so gave up. Sometimes he can tell you things about yourself that your conceited self would not have noticed! And also he minds his P’s and Q’s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all I taught him was to say “aiyooo”, GL, SU!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our search for “greener pastures” may lead us to part ways in a few days. Here is wishing RP a rocking career and a great life. I pray and hope he gets all that he deserves and succeeds in every way he wants to.&lt;br /&gt;“Hey RP, You make people feel wonderful. Keep that million watt smile going! Enjoy maadi!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-3806174073987623634?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/3806174073987623634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=3806174073987623634&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/3806174073987623634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/3806174073987623634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/04/to-rp.html' title='To RP...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-6571992826890758054</id><published>2008-04-02T04:08:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T04:27:06.494-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Review'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Books'/><title type='text'>The painted veil..</title><content type='html'>I read the cover of this book and decided to read it. It is by Somerset Maugham, one of my favourite authors. This novel has characters that are very natural. No emotion/character seems is loud. The story is about a women, Kitty who rushes into a marriage with a bacteriologist, Walter Fane, and later feels trapped as she finds out that she does not love her husband. She falls for another man and justifies her actions by her own reasons. When her husband comes to know about it he asks her to accompany him to a cholera ridden city in China! Why he does that and why cant she refuse to go, despite the fear of being killed, you read and find out.&lt;br /&gt;I may not be a great reviewer people, but go pick this book up and read...its very good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there is a line from the peom "An Elegy On The Death Of A Mad Dog" which is used in book to covey something. You can read the poem here : http://www.online-literature.com/oliver-goldsmith/2090/&lt;br /&gt;This is just to make you get to the book faster...happy reading!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-6571992826890758054?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/6571992826890758054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=6571992826890758054&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6571992826890758054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6571992826890758054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/04/painted-veil.html' title='The painted veil..'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-1106420931304460441</id><published>2008-03-25T06:07:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T04:18:19.181-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kannada'/><title type='text'>ನನ್ನ ಮೊದಲ ಕನ್ನಡ ಲೇಖನ.....</title><content type='html'>ಇದು ಕನ್ನಡದಲ್ಲಿ ನನ್ನ ಮೊದಲ ಪೋಸ್ಟ್ಇದನ್ನು ಟೈಪ್ ಮಾಡುವಾಗ ತುಂಬ ಖುಷಿ ಆಯ್ತು ಇನ್ನಷ್ಟು ಕನ್ನದ ಸಾಹಿತ್ಯದಲ್ಲಿ ಕೃಷಿ(!!!) ಮಾಡುವ ಪ್ರಯತ್ನ ಮಾಡುವೆನೆಂದು ನಂಬಿದ್ದೇನೆ.&lt;br /&gt;ಇಂತಿ,&lt;br /&gt;ಪ್ರತಿಭಾ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;P.S : As a friend of mine suggested, have decided to do all my kannada writing experiments in another space...am grateful for the idea.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-1106420931304460441?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/1106420931304460441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=1106420931304460441&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1106420931304460441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1106420931304460441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-post.html' title='ನನ್ನ ಮೊದಲ ಕನ್ನಡ ಲೇಖನ.....'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-1368788822416817491</id><published>2008-03-25T06:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T06:17:28.209-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School Days'/><title type='text'>Hindi lessons!</title><content type='html'>As a kid I found it very very difficult to understand, speak and write Hindi. We were taught Hindi from Class I and when everyone else our age in other schools were learning to read and write words, we were expected to read and write small stories! I cannot exactly remember the reason for the difficulty, but it made me miserable. I do not remember such difficulty for English or Kannada. We had a good Hindi teacher who had a good Hindi accent. I used to adore her. There are some distinct things I remember about my adventures to learn Hindi in the primary school:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Once we were asked to listen to the Hindi news on TV(there was only DD then) and list out some five difficult words as an assignment(We got innovative assignments!). Hindi news was telecast at 9pm if I remember, which was very late at the time for me(must have been in Class IV or V). So I had listed five words seeing a serial at 3pm(when I came home from school!). My first word was the name of the serial(ya, that was really stupid of me!). It was called "Junoon". My teacher knew instantly my source the next day when I read my list of words!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. A Kannada actor Shankar Nag recreated R K Narayan's "Malgudi days" on the small screen with many kannada actors from the small and big screen. My dad insisted that I watch it. It was amusing to see Kannada actors speak a language I felt was very difficult, so effortlessly(Many years later I felt their Hindi was not exactly effortless, it had south Indian accent cropping up, but suited the story well - as in, the setting was in a village down south- it was fine). I did not understand much but liked watching Master Manjunath and pestering dad to tell me what was happening!&lt;br /&gt;I also remember watching "Osheen", the story of a Japanese peasant girl who strives hard to become a beautician(not sure of the title or the storyline- but it was japanese for sure!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. At a little later point of time, in the afternoon(may be 3.30 pm) a new comedy serial started. Many of my friends came home after school as it was at a stone's throw and when we switched on the TV there was only one channel then and we happened to come across this serial called "Dekh bhai dekh". We were not a TV watching bunch but I remember clearly we loved watching this one! I must have realised it was a comedy because of the background laughing for every joke! It had Shekhar Suman, Farida Jalal and a bunch of other good actors. And I enjoyed watching this show for sure..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. There were these Hindi exams that were popular in my school days. Mysore Hindi prachar samithi and Madras Hindi prachar samithi used to conduct exams and certify one's Hindi prowess. I happened to take(had no option, it was from school!) the first exam called "Prathama" in Class III. Given the fact that I went to school that did not have exams, exams never scared me! It did not make me anxious. I loathed the last few days when my Hindi teacher made us read and write a lot of stuff! I managed to scrape through the exam! My mom said I should be serious the next time around. My dad told me I had done a good job, as I had got more marks than him for the same exam!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started speaking Hindi in high school - this was not due to any books, it was mostly because of TV! My Hindi even today is clichéd. Have a feeling native speakers of Hindi dont use the flamboyant phrases and words that Hindi cinema employs. I can say things like "Kaafi nek khayal he". I cannot think of another usage of the word "nek", since the TV/ films did not popularise other usages and my Hindi is not sourced from reading Hindi literature. It all seems funny. A south Indian feels I have a decently good Hindi accent, but the truth is my Hindi is very filmy and mostly grammatically incorrect. Like many things I do, I speak Hindi quite confidently and that seems to make up for the grammar (or the lack of it)! I did make some effort to read some literature in school but it seemed a lot of effort.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-1368788822416817491?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/1368788822416817491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=1368788822416817491&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1368788822416817491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1368788822416817491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/03/hindi-lessons.html' title='Hindi lessons!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12346839.post-5908758880493448060</id><published>2008-03-11T05:04:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T04:24:26.562-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fundas'/><title type='text'>Partnerships...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Life is all about partnerships, good partnerships lead to success and happiness and bad partnerships are a part of the package, which help us learn faster... All the things that one enjoys could be the result of being with someone, of a good partnership.&lt;br /&gt;Two things triggered my thoughts on these lines. One, while playing su-do-ku with mom, I usually feel the "hard" ones are really hard. But mom said we can do any of it with a little more patience and thinking out of the box. She dint exactly say this. She doesnt get into lecture mode, since am not very receptive when people are preaching me. In her own sweet way she convinced this and we ended up doing it in quite the same time as any other "medium" or "easy" puzzle. It felt great and most of the "hard" part of the puzzle seemed to be in my head.&lt;br /&gt;Also the recent Indian cricket team's victory against the "mighty" Aussies in two straight finals. Wow what a way to drive home a point. I was mightily impressed. It served the most arrogant foul mouthed team that have seen in international cricket. I felt it was the way our players stuck together, believed and celebrated each other that lead to the victory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could those board exams you cleared with good grades - a partnership between a child and parent or child and teacher, it could be enjoying shopping/going out for a movie/chatting over coffee - a partnership with a friend or sibling. There are these people who love us and help us win, help us face many a challenge, pray for our welfare. So most of our success is not just a result of our hard work. It could have big contributions in the form of trust, faith in one's abilities, prayers, wishes, time of your loved ones - parents or friends or siblings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Good partnerships make life interesting, open up new possibilities, make you realize previously “impossible" things. They make life wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-5908758880493448060?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/5908758880493448060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=5908758880493448060&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/5908758880493448060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/5908758880493448060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/03/partnerships.html' title='Partnerships...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-6846631879156291229</id><published>2008-03-06T05:49:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T06:26:20.815-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Books'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who?</title><content type='html'>There was a time when I thought I was not into reading sci-fi novels. Not very long ago. As in two weeks!When a friend suggested I could borrow some of his sci-fi books, I almost had to hide my contempt! How could I imagine reading some aliens attacking planet Earth and some hero recues. Wow impressed! I cant bear them on TV(ok folks, those of you who like it, sorry but its true), how could I read them. That was two weeks ago. One evening just when the library was about to close, I rushed in and asked the librarian to suggest a book quickly so that I dont waste his time browsing to pick one.All I said, "want something light and funny". When he picked up the book, I almost showed him my disappointment about his pick. He said it is a hit TV series and the back cover had something about aliens. I forced a smile, took the book telling myself its ok to keep the book over the weekend and if I dont like it can take something else on monday. The book was called "Wishing well" of the Doctor Who series. In two weeks I have read three of these books and last night I was up late just to ensure I finish reading the book. And in months I have not devoured books at this rate!! I have taken best sellers, critically acclaimed books&lt;br /&gt;and either half read them and gave up or took weeks to finish them. I was wondering whats up with my reading, until I read these books! Things never are like they seemed..And why did they seem the way they did in the first place? I can neither explain my contempt for sci-fi stuff before nor the craze for it now!It all sounds so crazy, but I admit its wonderful reading the Doctor Who series!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-6846631879156291229?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/6846631879156291229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=6846631879156291229&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6846631879156291229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6846631879156291229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/03/doctor-who.html' title='Doctor Who?'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-1478058069433400495</id><published>2008-02-28T22:37:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T06:27:29.973-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School Days'/><title type='text'>High school highs...2</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"&gt;There was this game in school that we were all very crazy about. We used to call it "Grandslam". Very similar to hangman. But every letter has a clue. And more points for guessing the entire word. And even after the word is guessed, sometimes we can continue to play for the each letter clue.( Except for the basic rules, the game had highly evolved thanks to our collective synergic enthu for the game). The whole class would be divided to two groups (usually two) and there were some occasional fights, as someone thought someone else was cheating! This added drama to the game. The best part of it was the entire class would be animatedly excited to play the game. Some of our friends used to prepare it at home for the rest of us to play. The game is in fact as simple as I have put it here, but it used to be real fun. If any teacher asked us a "tricky" question for which none of us had an answer we would all cheerfully suggest "grandslam"(ok make it shout - our history teacher called us "barbarics"!!). So the teacher had to write all the dashes and give us a clue or two for us to guess the answer (not many would let us play the entire game – so give us some easy clues and finish it off). Not many teachers liked the idea, as it would not only eat up some time, but also since it would also make us happy and noisy!! As far as I remember it was our English teacher, Jyothsna maam, who showed equal enthusiasm to play the game when there was a chance for one. During the "extra" hours, lunch breaks, "game" periods, after school, before the classes began in the morning...we were game for it anytime. We played grandslams in history, geography, literature, biology...you name it we had played a grandslam on it! It was pure pleasure!&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-1478058069433400495?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/1478058069433400495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=1478058069433400495&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1478058069433400495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1478058069433400495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/02/high-school-highs2.html' title='High school highs...2'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-4292212894694916156</id><published>2008-02-27T03:45:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T01:26:56.063-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><title type='text'>May I have my change please....</title><content type='html'>There is a lot of unrest. I feel I want a CHANGE - of place, of work, of people, of habits, of food(except for "&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;uddin vada&lt;/span&gt;" ofcourse).&lt;br /&gt;I am feeling tired and running slight temperature right now. Wondering could that be the cause..&lt;br /&gt;Hope either the change happens or the restlessness passes away - whichever is convenient for the guy up there...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-4292212894694916156?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/4292212894694916156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=4292212894694916156&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4292212894694916156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4292212894694916156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/02/may-i-have-my-change-please.html' title='May I have my change please....'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12346839.post-4964195239590284122</id><published>2008-02-11T07:23:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T01:27:48.653-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><title type='text'>High school highs...1</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"&gt;I always wanted to be working when I grew up. I had made the assumption. Probably a teacher, but none the less a professional. I was probably in class 8. There was this debate in class(We used to have many at the time). The topic was "Should mothers be working?" or something on similar lines. I remember the teacher. Her first name was "Aktar". I have always liked this name. It sounds sweet when said. There were many participants as usual. But none of us wanted to argue saying "mothers should work". The teacher asked me to argue for the topic. I reluctantly agreed. Some of the arguments were so callous, like "If they are so interested in working, why should they even start a family"!!! Deep inside even I felt the same(ok I know, but its true). When you agree so much with your "opponents", to express disagreement convincingly is difficult! I, like most of the class was just thinking "Would I be liking it if my mother started working?".&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"&gt;I was not even liking the idea of me going home after school to an empty house. Then waiting for my mom to come. It was nice as it was. She waiting for me, and asking me how my day at school was - and me giving her every detail I could remember, right from whom all I quarreled with to what interesting thing I leant that day. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"&gt;I argued saying "If women are talented and educated it will get wasted if they do not work. Even they have dreams and aspirations, so they must be allowed to work". The very tone I adopted made it obvious, I never saw myself in that position years later!! And I had not seen our teachers in this light! Most of them were women and many of them were mothers! All of us had let our teacher down. When she shared her thoughts we realized we had said all these things before a “working mother”! She was saddened by the way we thought - how possessive we were about our mothers and how selfish, how shortsighted. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-4964195239590284122?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/4964195239590284122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=4964195239590284122&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4964195239590284122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4964195239590284122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/02/high-school-highs1.html' title='High school highs...1'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12346839.post-7827165603277999762</id><published>2008-02-07T08:21:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T01:32:36.306-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>What I enjoy doing these days...</title><content type='html'>1. Playing badminton with Vin.&lt;br /&gt;2. Playing su-do-ku with Amma on weekends.&lt;br /&gt;3. Car driving classes&lt;br /&gt;4. Sleeping most of the time on saturdays.&lt;br /&gt;5. Praying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-7827165603277999762?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/7827165603277999762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=7827165603277999762&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/7827165603277999762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/7827165603277999762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/02/what-i-enjoy-doing-these-days.html' title='What I enjoy doing these days...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-6553214923413533208</id><published>2008-01-31T05:52:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T04:23:06.044-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dedications..'/><title type='text'>To Kitty, with love...</title><content type='html'>Her eyes were bright with some strange joy and there was a child like excitement in her face! She must have also felt the same about me at the moment. And we kept staring at our hands, she at mine and me at hers. Her hand looked so very much like mine. We were looking at something on her monitor. She was seated in her chair and I was leaning from my chair to see something she was pointing out at. My hand was resting on her chair's arm rest. While discussing something we realised this and we seemed so excited about it. Exactly the same shape! I kept my right hand along with her left and we both giggled like little girls! Her hand was slightly bigger and had long beautiful nails(my nails are very short).&lt;br /&gt;This post is dedicated to my hand twin!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-6553214923413533208?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/6553214923413533208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=6553214923413533208&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6553214923413533208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6553214923413533208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/01/to-kitty-with-love.html' title='To Kitty, with love...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-8984636556027968919</id><published>2008-01-29T22:11:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T01:28:51.502-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fundas'/><title type='text'>Last evening...-2</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"&gt;The world is a very unfair place to be.(Ok I will keep saying it because it IS an UNFAIR place to be!). This has nothing to do with the below passage. &lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Another friend called me after a long time to check if I continue to exist - precisely thats why some friends call me up for. We caught up with each others lives. In the due course I suddenly realized (because my friend pointed it out to me), that I had made some remarks about relationships and marriage. All this advice was not even targeted at him, for he is a mature guy himself. We were just discussing about something and I got into the lecture mode unconsciously. This is what I had said(it cant be exactly the same words, and since I was the one who said it, I have the license to...) :&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"&gt;There are a lot of things in this world which you do to prove a point. Marriage is definitely not one of them. Dont marry to prove anybody a point. There are a few people involved whose life will get affected by the decisions that you take. Be practical, be reasonable. In the height of ecstasy, when high on love, people dont think of the practical implications. You must think about the consequences. If you are content with the way of life at home, if you are proud of your roots(and you enjoy a lot of the vernacular stuff) , if you are sure you want your everyday things to be how they have always been, do not try anything drastically different in this area! Just imagine wanting to watch a kannada movie/play and hoping your spouse, who cannot follow kannada, could appreciate it, when initially it did not even seem like a requirement for the relationship! Think. Because this will be having an impact on your partner as well. If you are the kind who would end up with such unrealistic expectations(they become unrealistic in this particular situation, otherwise having such expectations from people of the same backgrounds is very valid)and are convinced it’s a reasonable expectation to have, then cross-language and cross-culture marriages are not for you. This will be a very unfair thing to do for a person whom you have “loved”. Things will not continue to be rosy forever. Get real. Don’t make your old parents go through difficult times adjusting to the new person-new language-new culture(This will not be a problem if you are from a cosmopolitan background). Marriage should stabilize life not add more confusion! And more than everything it depends on fate (yes, I am a “practicing” hindu!!! LOL!). If things do not happen the way you want, they were just not meant to be. Blame nobody(This is easier said than done!)…….&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"&gt;There was one thing very surprising. I have never taken a stand on this matter before. I did not even know I think on these lines(now). I have always claimed to be a hard-core romantic – as in, you cannot help falling in love with people (and falling in love somehow translates to marriage, thanks to my conditioned mind!). It was a great eye-opener to myself!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-8984636556027968919?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8984636556027968919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=8984636556027968919&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/8984636556027968919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/8984636556027968919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/01/last-evening-2.html' title='Last evening...-2'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-259324443704447639</id><published>2008-01-29T22:08:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T05:54:26.763-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Last evening...- 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;This world is a damn unfair place to be. This was what I was thinking when I my mobile beeped last evening. I felt very strongly it was from my mobile service provider. They send me messages to pay my bill ten days well in advance of the last date, and that too some 3-4 messages per day - buggers. It was from a friend saying "I forgot to tell you - she got the Visa! Thanks." A smile lit up on my face. It was a strange feeling infact. I had not done anything that can be called a "favour" to deserve the "thanks". But I felt very happy,warmed and nice. This is what had happened.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;I saw this friend of mine logged in early on the messenger.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After exchanging pleasantries, he suddenly asked me if I could do him a favour. I said ok. He said his kin has applied for a Visa and she needs to get it, for she is needed there. "Can you pray for her?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Now this took some time to register. Is this the favour he is asking? And this is a "favour"? It qualifies for a "favour"?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I could not help smiling at the child-like-innocence of the request. So simple and so straight. (There are times when I wonder do I deserve such niceness? - yes, I am the same person who maintains the world is a bloody unfair place.) &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;After a while I managed to ask him if that was THE favour he had asked for. Saw a "Yes" pop up on my messenger.I said "Ok, sure, can do that for you". Seeing my confused state he gave me the explanation "If I do selfish requests(to God), they dont happen. If I ask Him something for other people it usually happens. So want you want you to pray for her." It could not have got simpler. I prayed.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-259324443704447639?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/259324443704447639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=259324443704447639&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/259324443704447639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/259324443704447639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/01/last-evening-1.html' title='Last evening...- 1'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-4564120945831069117</id><published>2008-01-29T05:38:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T04:25:30.663-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fundas'/><title type='text'>Makeovers..</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"&gt;There is a show on TV that interests me a great deal. Not being a regular TV viewer, I keep surfing through the channels and stop mostly for songs and ads! And while surfing through the channels I catch this program mostly and it has to do with "makeovers". Two people, either spouses or friends or siblings are given a "makeover" by a team of experts - dress designers, hair stylists and the kind. Initially I was a little skeptic about this show, as in "would I not know what I look good in, why should someone else tell me" kind of attitude. But then what are experts for, and there is always a scope for improvement. Also, there is a pattern that I have noticed among most people. Most of us look for comfort when we select our dresses, which is very good. But more often than not we do not experiment. So we stick to the same colours or fabric. And our wardrobes are full of similar kind of clothes. Be it cotton salwar-kameezs or shirts of all shades of blue! And like everything else in life, we probably resist changing the way we dress. After these “makeovers” some people really turn out to look much better. &lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After watching this show, I let myself imagine giving makeovers to people around. I find myself telling, had this person worn a lighter or darker shade it would have been better. May be this colour shoes dont look good on this. I imagine how a person would look with shorter hair (For girls I like short hair or long hair, in between lengths don’t look that good, now don’t ask me how else would you expect it to get long otherwise…I never had long hair, ever!) I have always been experimenting with my clothes. I mix and match and see if it looks good. People say it takes a lot of confidence to carry of clothes, which you are not used to wear or colours you have not tried before. I never force myself, experimenting comes to me effortlessly – its as simple as, I get bored if I look the same for long! (LOL!). And many a time I would have bought the dress myself, so no question of forcing also. When people give me second looks, the first thing I feel is “now whats wrong?” (this is the confidence building activity I put myself through for all the effortless &lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;experimentation!) &lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But sometimes making small changes in our look does loads of good. And surprisingly enough all that, that is given in these “makeovers” involve giving a neat haircut, manicure and pedicure, and clothes and shoes that the “experts” think suit you well. And if we notice carefully this is what we were taught as kids. Presentable meant wearing neat clothes (yes pressed), keeping your hands, feet and hair clean, and wearing neat footwear(remember those polished shoes and clean socks..). These days a lot of emphasis is given on personal grooming. And it is so very interesting also! A little thought, some interest and some genuine effort and you well end up looking “groomed”. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-4564120945831069117?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/4564120945831069117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=4564120945831069117&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4564120945831069117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4564120945831069117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/01/makeovers.html' title='Makeovers..'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-811558658628822596</id><published>2008-01-16T07:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T07:16:46.902-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Just wondering...what if...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;" &gt;When passion becomes vocation one becomes successful… may be. Dont know what makes some people successful and some not. Other than the perspective ofcourse.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And the best part is people whom the world recognizes as "successful" mostly were not even looking for it. They probably followed their hearts, did just did what they liked. I was wondering what I would have ended up being (Currently other than fixing bugs for a living, I am a full time whiner).&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was wondering what would I have been had I followed my heart. I would probably be a dancer. Had learnt classical dance for four years, but at that time was too young to enjoy it. The classes were in the evenings and always felt it eats up my play time. And I was not a kid who appreciated discipline (okay dont think any kid would). Classical dance seemed very methodical and tiring at that time. Standing (or was it sitting!) with your knees bent through the entire rendition was traumatic(for a kid that is). I gave lame excuses to bunk classes, hardly practiced at home and gave up, or rather finally was allowed to give up. It was much later that I realised if there was any music I enjoyed I could neither recollect the lyrics nor the tune. But to my amazement could find a movement to each beat of the song if I happen to hear it again. At home while listening to music cant resist moving my head or tapping my feet. Sometimes I even increase the volume, sing aloud and dance. The only regret is I did not learn any form of dance. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also like probably would love to be a TV anchor for a travel and food show. I always envy these people. They get paid for doing it! Imagine being the host for programs like "Best spas across the globe" or some such fancy named show, "Foodie" or some such food-travel program. You go around meeting people, learning facts about the place. Good food, nice places and everything free and what more you get paid for doing all of it! &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Ok, agreed am over simplifying the stuff, there may be a lot of research going on behind every episode, lot of effort in making sure the information provided is as authentic as one can get under all the prevailing constraints. And unlike presenters of olden days who probably got the script ready, these days if one goes by the titles displayed at the end of the show (see, I care to read them!) &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;say that the presenter does a lot more than just presenting the show. But then the point is when you enjoy it, you enjoy it! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;When I was in school, I used to like VJs and thought that was a “cool” job. But I grew up to be more misanthropic as days went by and the idea of talking to absolute strangers seemed such a turn off! For a while Astro-physics seemed interesting. I was a part of a sky gazing club. We spent evenings on a terrace near my house spotting constellations, stars and planets. But research needed far more discipline and really good grades. So ruled out! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;Then I loved reading. Thought if I become an editor of a publishing company I could read manuscripts – books before they came to the shops, thats how I saw them at the time! But then there would be scores of people writing like me(not demeaning myself, but people who write more for pleasure than as a career, well how does that matter?, ok whatever), may be getting a good material is like searching for a needle in a hay stack..not sure why, but dint take up the idea seriously.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;As a kid I loved my teachers. My love for people depends far more on them than myself (same applies to dislike as well, this is my theory so no questions entertained.) These were interesting wonderful people who made me feel teaching was a great job. I cant explain why, may be peer pressure, may be glamour quotient(!!!!) associated with it, or God knows what I did not become a teacher. Whatever little I know on anything, I still find myself good at explaining it to others. And surprisingly I remain patient when someone asks for a re-run of the explanation (may be I hear it as “once more”!!). Enjoyed going down the memory lane..and luckily still believe in the self-made thumb rule in life…I may whine, I may be unhappy for a while, I may think a lot, I may do anything I chose to at the moment about something from the past but then, ”No regrets, whatsoever”.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-811558658628822596?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/811558658628822596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=811558658628822596&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/811558658628822596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/811558658628822596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/01/just-wonderingwhat-if.html' title='Just wondering...what if...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-9175014964571777958</id><published>2008-01-03T04:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T04:50:43.145-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Here comes the new year!</title><content type='html'>My resolutions for the new year..Well though will not have any, but then on seconds thoughts, which I always have, have come up with this list:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Not to take anyone(including myself ) seriously.&lt;br /&gt;2. Not to have any expectations from anyone. This I guess will be the toughest one. God help me with this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This should do. These can infact can I bet ensure a life time of happiness. But then, I need to also learn to let go of things gracefully, gracefully being the point. Ok wishing myself loads of luck for this and all the folks on blogosphere a very happy new year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: Losing weight somehow dint make it to the list, and am glad about that one!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-9175014964571777958?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/9175014964571777958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=9175014964571777958&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/9175014964571777958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/9175014964571777958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2008/01/here-comes-new-year.html' title='Here comes the new year!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-1817706825760883089</id><published>2007-11-20T04:45:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:02:47.288-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A not so funny incident...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Had a working day on saturday. One of those comp-off days in office. Was not feeling like doing anything much. One cannot. When it gets into your system it is a saturday, you just cant. So I started off from office soon after lunch, thought it was time I headed home. It was a warm afternoon. Humid. Was in warm clothes. The morning had been quite cold. Heavy lunch. All these were conducive for me to dose off in the bus, happily, with my mouth slightly open.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I was suddenly woken up by the zig-zag motion of the bus. Was dazed. It took me a few minutes to register what was happening. There was a small bus ahead of the one in which I was, which was moving in a zig-zag way to stop this vehicle. Then the vehicle ahead came to a sudden halt. Our driver also applied breaks suddenly. Within a few minutes lots of people outside the bus, inside the bus, on the road, lots of vehicles behind lined up on the highway. I was not very sure what had triggered this. The scene was like from a movie. I desperately wished I wasnt there. Crowds of this kind scare me, make me uneasy. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;I was sitting in the third or fourth row from the front. I could see some people outside the driver's window asking him to get out. I was traveling in a government bus. The smaller bus was a private one. There could not have been more than ten passengers in that one. I felt sick. People from the bus started getting down. There are a lot of people from my place who work in the suburbs and travel to work daily. There were many such people heading home in this bus. Many looked like office go-ers. They were getting irritated by the delay caused in their getting home on a saturday evening. Many got down. I do not remember exactly how long it all lasted. After a few minutes saw a man running away from the side of the bus with his shirt torn! An enthusiastic lady sitting beside me informed that it was the driver of the smaller bus. She was straining her neck all the while as if it was a movie shooting going on. I did not even get up from my place next to the window. I asked her to just sit down. I felt she should not be so excited when the only emotion that I was feeling was fear. She gave me a look like I had violated her human rights. Even she seemed scary for a moment. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Was holding my knapsack close to me. I was expecting all these mad people to put the bus I was in on fire..I was thinking of Godhra! I was thinking of all the Gods I ever knew. I was thinking if I could fit into the window and jump out if at all they started burning the bus. There was no way at the door of the bus to escape, there were many crazy men blocking the way. I was feeling sad imaging the children and women in the bus who may die.. I was making offerings to many Gods. I would have gone nuts had it lasted even a few more minutes than it did. Finally I realised the whole fight was for a very petty issue. Had I seen why the fight had begun, my imagination would not have run wild.All those people who were standing at the door of the bus, looking like hooligans were the same office go-ers who had got down the bus. They had their sleeves raised and the faces full of aggression. Enough to make me not recognize them. After God-knows-how-long the bus started moving. I heaved, thanked all my Gods. Felt grateful just to be alive. I do not know what was the cause of my fear, was it ignorance(I was sleeping when the action was happening and saw only the drama unfold), was it the mad crowd(am a misanthropic in many ways!)..but it all looked unbearable when it lasted and funny much later!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-1817706825760883089?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/1817706825760883089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=1817706825760883089&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1817706825760883089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1817706825760883089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2007/11/not-so-funny-incident.html' title='A not so funny incident...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-6167985274835406350</id><published>2007-11-13T06:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T06:37:24.718-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Directionally-challenged self!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;Had a friend of mine, treat me for an ice-cream. Reason - by chance found out we are on the wrong road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;People who know me also know that I am not gifted when it comes to roads, directions, and new places in general. We(my friend and I) were going to a buddy's place for a function. Of the two, I was the one who had been there earlier. Despite the fact, like a true friend, who accepts you as you are, this friend of mine did not expect me to remember the way. And like a good friend, I thoroughly lived upto the expectations! Only when we came to the sublane where the apartment was, I was very glad to identify the exact building(Phew!). Then after enjoying ourselves with company of good-old-people-from-hometown,you know all the warmth and bonding and all that and then ofcourse the good food, it was time to leave. When we reached the main road, there was a V-shaped deviation. My friend took the wrong one, and I managed to tell him so. All I said was something like "hey it doesnt look like this is the road we came from, just a passing thought..", he stopped at the side and complimented on my feat in his own humble way!I Was happy, obviously, I am not as directionally challenged as I make out to be. Then I seemed to get into my elements with the compliment(Ok it was no compliment, just a remark, a casual one). Mid-day sun,it was scorching hot, the road was somewhere on the outskirts of the city where there are no trees on either side of the roads-unlike the typical &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;bangalore&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; style and unlike the driver I did not have a helmet.. And I wanted ice-cream, cause I deserved one - this is what I told my friend. I was at my&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;asseverate best and convinced the childhood-friend of mine that an ice-cream was the one thing in life we both need to have at that moment in life!! We searched in vain all along the road( make it "I"). Then finally we almost reached my abode in bangalore, when I suggested the most expensive ice-cream parlour I know (what can I do if that place happens to be near where I am put up- I exactly gave him the same reason). He treated me to an ice-cream for overcoming a major mental block, accidentally. A  small celebration to make me feel good about life on a very hot afternoon....&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-6167985274835406350?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/6167985274835406350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=6167985274835406350&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6167985274835406350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6167985274835406350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2007/11/directionally-challenged-self.html' title='Directionally-challenged self!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-3167443894094763991</id><published>2007-11-13T06:30:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T04:28:03.266-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Review'/><title type='text'>OSO....</title><content type='html'>Saw "Om Shanthi Om" during the weekend. Can watch it once, second time would be a little too much. No story line(did not expect a great story, so was not disappointed)..some good comedy, some masala, nice songs, am a great fan of Sharukh's six packs(WOOOW!!!) - he may be old,he may not be conventionally handsome - but still I like him(reason - same old one, cant explain no clue), liked the songs and music..Deepika looks great, Kiron Kher is funny as the Filmy Maa..A typical Farah Khan's movie...She seems to understand the movie world, and really appreciated her sense of comedy(rarely was stupid rather than funny)..One thing was the 70's look..people must have had great amount of patience and all the time in the world during the seventies, so much elaborate-everythings - clothes, hairdo, make-up..hmm..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plan to watch Saawariya this weekend. Heard it isnt that great, but want to watch Ranbir...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-3167443894094763991?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/3167443894094763991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=3167443894094763991&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/3167443894094763991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/3167443894094763991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2007/11/oso.html' title='OSO....'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-3612492619113934415</id><published>2007-11-13T06:28:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T01:33:20.648-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><title type='text'>I'm-possible!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"&gt;There are some people on the face of this earth(fortunately very very few and far) who get on my nerves and are talented enough to manage to stay there when I am willing to let them get off. The only way I know to deal with these people is to avoid them. But there are certain places in life when they cannot be avoided. "Get off my nerves please" is what I want to tell them, clear and loud. They just dont seem to get the message. Hmm such is life...Take a deep breath and relax, I tell myself. One such person told me "You are impossible". May be thats precisely what I want to be for him. But the point is, what on earth makes people bother me when the only mistake I made was mind my own business. This seems to be a big offence in life..Funny people! - Ok folks, one small confession, I really dont want to be liked by a few homo-sapiens in particular. I choose not to be liked by them.Crazy me, but I do not know why!!!&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-3612492619113934415?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/3612492619113934415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=3612492619113934415&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/3612492619113934415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/3612492619113934415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2007/11/im-possible.html' title='I&apos;m-possible!!!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-6350511232913229778</id><published>2007-10-18T09:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T01:34:07.402-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>Smokey business...</title><content type='html'>Saw a freshly lit cigarette lying on the mud sidewalk of a busy street in a posh area of Bangalore, just outside an office I sometimes feel is my work place(Ignore the last part, will tell you more some other time). That set me wondering why someone ended up doing it..I mean if all one wanted to do is fling it on the ground, why was lit in the first place..&lt;br /&gt;So may be it was a teenage girl from one of the posh apartments beside the office building, trying it out when herparent appeared unexpectedly.&lt;br /&gt;May be it was a guy waiting outside for his girlfriend who works in the building..she said she would be out in 10 minutes but came in 2 minutes..and she does not like to see him smoking. May be it was a 10 year old boy who had his first ever cigar and choked from the smoke and gave up.&lt;br /&gt;May be it was a guy in the marketing team who is always busy..his wife again started nagging at the other end of the phone that he does not have any time for her...when he had actually come out to relax for a few minutes and smoke, got wild and just flung it to the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was still smoking..smoke emanating from it I mean..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May be a broken soul(or a broken heart) who usually smokes&lt;br /&gt;to feel good, lit it and remembering the sweetheart who so mercilessly walked out of life, did not just feel like it and so flung it and walked away, not knowing where..may be..&lt;br /&gt;Only the cigarette knew...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-6350511232913229778?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/6350511232913229778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=6350511232913229778&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6350511232913229778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6350511232913229778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2007/10/smokey-business.html' title='Smokey business...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-6093541358017838812</id><published>2007-10-16T02:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T05:12:21.281-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mistaken!!!</title><content type='html'>People dont ever seem to mistake me for a Kannadiga. I wonder why. And the best part is they take the trouble of sharing their piece of mind as to what they though I was, as in which part of India did they take me to be from. There was this Tamilian lady who asked where I was from, I said "Karnataka". Next question was "Are you a kannadiga?". Was a little surprised. Ok one's mother tongue could differ from one's native place, may be. But I was surprised. She then told me she thought I was a mallu! Wait its not yet over. A new joinee, a mallu, during a team lunch asked me ifI was from Rajastan! I only could smile at the question. A Tam thinks am a mallu, a mallu thinks am a northy...Ok people from other places mistake me, but wonder how I felt when a kannadiga asked me if I were from Delhi when we first met. And the icing on the cake came today.When one of my managers saw me talking to another one in kannada and exclaimed "Kannada!!"..Oh common people, give me a break.Why cant anyone take me for a kannadiga? I am a little more fair to qualify for a south Indian? Oh butI have seen far more fairer south Indians who are not mistaken (the one who exclaimed thus is fairer than me and is from south India!!)... I speak fluent hindi? Oh ask any north Indian, he will tell you how pathetic my hindi grammer is! Previously it used to be fun when people used to mistake me thus...but not always...not so frequently..May be I should be happy people dont mistake my nationality!! What crap na..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-6093541358017838812?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/6093541358017838812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=6093541358017838812&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6093541358017838812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/6093541358017838812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2007/10/mistaken.html' title='Mistaken!!!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-4348395571702309411</id><published>2007-09-27T03:43:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T04:32:17.467-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Whine-free-week anyone?</title><content type='html'>There comes a time when you dont feel like wallowing in that pool of self pity. There comes a time when you no longer want to complain about anything in life. There comes a time when you just want to let it be. So I have decided to have a whine-free-week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agenda:&lt;br /&gt;1. Try atmost not to complain, not to whine... can only write it away...&lt;br /&gt;2. Enjoy everything including a bad mood...&lt;br /&gt;3. Can sulk only when alone, meaning if you want to sulk get yourself away from people and do it...&lt;br /&gt;4. If you strongly feel something in life has to change, change it...no second thoughts and no complaining&lt;br /&gt;5. Be cool, people can treat you the way they whim...who cares...its their problem not yours..just be cool and dont complain..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-4348395571702309411?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/4348395571702309411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=4348395571702309411&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4348395571702309411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4348395571702309411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2007/09/whine-free-week-anyone.html' title='Whine-free-week anyone?'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-9203307138776384904</id><published>2007-09-26T06:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T06:50:22.140-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Let it be...let it go...mmmmm</title><content type='html'>Am feeling very dull today..I feel something in life just stopped being what it used to be.  Sigh. My heart says hold on to it, mind says let it be...LET IT GO!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-9203307138776384904?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/9203307138776384904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=9203307138776384904&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/9203307138776384904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/9203307138776384904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2007/09/let-it-belet-it-gommmmm.html' title='Let it be...let it go...mmmmm'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-3598320737738329641</id><published>2007-09-26T06:35:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T06:39:46.438-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Started loving cricket again!!</title><content type='html'>Hey we are world cup champions! Sounds great, feels sooo good. And the best part is we won against Pak. What makes it sweeter is we had beaten the "mighty" Aussies to get to the finals. One thing that I hated is the Aussie supremacy. These guys made cricket very boring and one-sided. According to me they are the most foul-mouthed players on team. Have concluded so after having read so many things about it in papers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only Aussie whom I really appreciated for the person he was on field was Steve Waugh. A gentleman playing the gentleman's game. I felt happy when he made the remarkable comeback and felt sad when I read an article about him after he called it a day. A nice player indeed.&lt;br /&gt;There were times when the aggression on field was incredible. I had heard that aggressive behaviour on field is used to intimidate ooponents. Am not saying it is bad, but the best defence would be to play your game well. Kumble and Srinath showed quiet confidence. Well the whole point am saying is on saturday's match I thoroughly enjoyed the aggression that India showed and am very glad they did. It was superb watching the very "aggressive" Aussies go down the way they did. And what was the best things I enjoyed? Sreeshanth taking the mightly wicket of Mathew Hayden and thumping his fists on the ground. Joginder Sharma keeping his cool in the final over of both the matches! RP Singh's displined bowling..Irfan Pathan taking some awesome wickets and how can forget Yuvraj's splendid form. What a BIG guy he is! And his sixes were a beauty to watch. Everyone seemed to pitch in and do there bit. It was stopping a boundary, holding on to a catch, taking those ones and twos and keeping the score going, avoiding picking the wrong balls, all these small things made a big difference. They mattered, and to a great extend they alone mattered!&lt;br /&gt;And my dear friend Vinu had told me we would lose the finals! It is her birthday today and an ardent cricket fan that she is, has reasons to celebrate even this! Happy birthday dear friend and may the Indian cricket team make you more optimitic in future! Herez wishing dear V and Indian cricket a wonderful time ahead!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-3598320737738329641?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/3598320737738329641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=3598320737738329641&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/3598320737738329641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/3598320737738329641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2007/09/started-loving-cricket-again.html' title='Started loving cricket again!!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-3113961586339060091</id><published>2007-09-11T08:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T01:32:07.143-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><title type='text'>Some "suicidal" stuff!!!</title><content type='html'>Actually its very funny..I wonder how I end up taking up things and responsibilities I can hardly handle. I seem to be an expert at that. A friend of mine described this attitude as "Aa bhel mujhe maar"!! If I am asked to take up something at work and they happen to qualify that task as "challenging", I cant say a no. And so I took up something which on second thoughts seems "suicidal". Ah well thats ok..its all a part of life, atleast mine!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So things did settle down. Well what doesnt in life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was something very interseting I noticed. Saw two dumb people "talking" to each other. Both the girls were probably in their twenties. They were animatedly gesturing at each other. When the one who was "speaking" made gestures, she was not looking at the other person. Only when whatever she had to say was over she would make the eye contact. Until then with various expressions on her face, she would go on following her own hands. And the "listner" to my surprise, was looking at the face of the other person not staring at the hands. One of the girls had a very expressive face and the other girl had a lot of red and green glass bangles in her right hand, which were the cause of my taking note of their conversation in the first place. Without realizing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had watched their conversation for quite a few minutes when suddenly I felt how could they be so sure that the other person understood what was being said. Nothing to be sure of. One person could be talking something and the other person could be saying something totally opposite. It was quite strange suddenly. It seemed beyond my comprehension that a conversation could take place like this as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly it struck me that there are times, so many at that, when I have spoken to people in a tongue that they can comprehend, when words have clearly been uttered, when words have been heard and yet at the end have been so sure the other person has not understood what I really meant!! And there have been times when people claim that they did not mean what I understood it be, although at that moment I was not more sure of anything else..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly things happen which make me rethink about some assumed notions in life.. They make me think about things I would not have given a thought about, make me rethink about some and sometimes even give me a 180 degree change in "perspective". One of the biggest things in life is its all how YOU "see" it, its all how YOU "take", its all what YOU "make" of it! Like is like that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-3113961586339060091?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/3113961586339060091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=3113961586339060091&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/3113961586339060091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/3113961586339060091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2007/09/some-suicidal-stuff.html' title='Some &quot;suicidal&quot; stuff!!!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-926097705916323306</id><published>2007-08-27T08:03:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T01:37:28.124-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><title type='text'>Unreal</title><content type='html'>Today am feeling tensed, my nerves seem to be strained. People around feel am not being myself. Am cheeezed of. First things first. People act weird and blame me for it. Hello, excuse me. "Its not my problem" is the last thing I want to hear when an issue between two people needs some sorting out. Agreed, it may actually be "my problem", but would you please mind not being the root cause of a bigger problem is my question. I face these in professional and personal life at times. And to make life more interseting, sometimes it happens in both places at the same time. I need time, and dont need blame. What is the point pointing fingers at each other that too when I am not even blaming "you" for it. And why the hell get offended when all I am asking from you is some information essential to get that sorting process going. And instead of making someone feel as though he/she is a difficult person to deal with, why not spend that energy in just keeping quiet. That is the least "you" can do. It actually helps. Well people of world, if you are listening then try not to pass comments at people who are busy "sorting" some things out...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-926097705916323306?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/926097705916323306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=926097705916323306&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/926097705916323306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/926097705916323306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2007/08/unreal.html' title='Unreal'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-1614142907095964503</id><published>2007-08-22T06:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T01:39:15.770-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Review'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>Unwinding.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;Long time since I had an urge to write. Today am very drowsy and am in a great mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched "Mungaru male" for the second time yesterday. On the movie ticket "male" meaning rain was spelt "malhe". I dint know how to correctly spell it, but could not get myself to agree&lt;br /&gt;with the pvr fellow's spelling. The program stretched my evening to a little later than I would&lt;br /&gt;have wanted. You see enjoying an evening out with friends is one thing, catching that stupid early morning office shuttle is another thing. Miss this "stupid" shuttle then get caught in&lt;br /&gt;even more "stupid" traffic jams and then what better way to screw up the day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then during the weekend watched Chakde! India. Something worth your time. Can guarantee that you wont feel bored even if you dont understand hockey or if you are not an ardent fan&lt;br /&gt;of Shahrukh. And by the way he plays the character and not Shahrukh in the movie..even thats something rare you see. And there are some real feel good factors. You feel good about life in general. Go watch the movie for sheer joy of watching a great movie on our national sport.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently read Tarun Tejpal's "Alchemy of desire". This is the first book by the author I am reading. I like the vivid images he gives the reader while describing places and events. The beginning chapters were gripping, but it seems to drag in the melancholic middle chapters, and again comes to life at the end. I felt rather strangely while reading this book. There are places where I felt the author makes one feel there is nothing much to life. The story is in first person. There are times when you feel deeply sad for some characters and utterly irritated by the author's behaviour, his callousness. This is what is the strength of the book I feel. To portray oneself truly, with all the confusion and chaos happening inside, transparent to the reader, is a challenge. Many end up making the reader sympathize. Here I ended up, at times, loathing the author. Took several weeks to complete it. There were days when I just dint want to hear anything from him! Now it all seems good enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I seem to be a great believer of destinies these days..all that will-happen-if-it-is-&lt;br /&gt;meant-to-be attitude seems to pop up from nowhere at times. Confusion is the most prevalent&lt;br /&gt;emotion mostly. Cant believe it is the same me who had opinions about almost everything in&lt;br /&gt;life, that too strong ones. I have noticed that only utter confusion drives me to write stuff..may be I try to unclutter by writing..have kind of decided not to plan for sometime about anything.&lt;br /&gt;That makes life simple in fact.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-1614142907095964503?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/1614142907095964503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=1614142907095964503&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1614142907095964503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1614142907095964503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2007/08/unwinding.html' title='Unwinding.....'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-1964526385341121284</id><published>2007-07-18T08:08:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T01:34:45.774-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dedications..'/><title type='text'>Happy birthday Pa</title><content type='html'>Happy birthday dear Pa, love you for making me realize there is something called&lt;br /&gt;unconditional love. For sharing your almaari with me(given that you dont like doing it), and using mine after I left for bangalore. For teaching me to always cut my nails small and keep them tidy. For making me read newspapers every morning and creating love for reading. For mending your shirt yourself and making me realise your things can be your own business and no one else's if you keep them that way. For loving animals. For never forcing me to do anything against my will. For making me watch malgudi days and quiz programs on TV. For always being there for me. For being such a wonderful dad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-1964526385341121284?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/1964526385341121284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=1964526385341121284&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1964526385341121284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1964526385341121284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2007/07/happy-birthday-pa.html' title='Happy birthday Pa'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-1102385162509675165</id><published>2007-05-21T09:11:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T01:35:11.674-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Review'/><title type='text'>Life in a metro</title><content type='html'>Saw "Life in a metro" last week. A good paisa vasool kind of a movie, wont get bored for a minute, guaranteed. One thought that did linger is the amount of loneliness you feel sometimes in a big city, so full of people. May be it just happens all the time. Its very rare you get a someone with who you can share all your thoughts and even more rare (almost impossible) to find this same "someone" not change. Well it could be that you were the one who really changed and not this someone, but then it’s the same thing right? You end up being lonely all over again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-1102385162509675165?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/1102385162509675165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=1102385162509675165&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1102385162509675165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/1102385162509675165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2007/05/life-in-metro.html' title='Life in a metro'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-12270453262994919</id><published>2007-04-17T07:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T09:17:25.244-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Muriyada mane...made my evening</title><content type='html'>After a long time all of us in my family sat together to watch a movie at home last saturday. Its so difficult to get a movie to make us all watch together. Thats what made it so special. It was cloudy and drizzling which kept dad indoors. Mom had prepared "chakkuli", so we all had something to munch on while watching the movie. It was called "Muriyada mane" - meaning "The unbroken home"- literally. It was about how a family splits for money, property and selfishness and finally reunites. Nothing new, what made us watch it were the actors (Dr.Raj, Narsimha raju, Balanna, Aswath..)and the beautiful dialogues, nice songs, excellent language(it seems so rare in today's movies)...Small things like these seem a luxury and can give so much of joy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-12270453262994919?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/12270453262994919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=12270453262994919&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/12270453262994919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/12270453262994919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2007/04/muriyada-manemade-my-evening.html' title='Muriyada mane...made my evening'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-4399468546841700867</id><published>2007-03-29T23:19:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T01:43:14.510-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><title type='text'>Gone with the wind</title><content type='html'>Read a very beautiful book - Gone with the wind. So beautiful that I dint need a book mark to remember where I last left it. So beautiful that I felt that I could not "waste" my evenings in office, in spite of all the "work load". Long pending. Had wanted to read for so long. Loved every bit of it. Felt hurt and sorry at times for some characters in it. So true and lovely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-4399468546841700867?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/4399468546841700867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=4399468546841700867&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4399468546841700867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/4399468546841700867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2007/03/gone-with-wind.html' title='Gone with the wind'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-5657529428720116643</id><published>2007-02-22T00:34:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T01:40:21.595-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><title type='text'>Pappa</title><content type='html'>The father and his eight year old daughter were sitting in the hall enjoying each others company in the evening. Dad was sitting with his left ankle on the right knee making a cradle for his little daughter to sit on. They always enjoyed it like this. She was in her white sleeveless summer frock and he in his banian and green checked lungi.The daughter had noticed a small hole in the banian on dad's tummy. She managed to put her little finger in it and meddled with it in order to make it big enough for her finger to go in easily. Dad asked her not to do so as it was tickling him. This encouraged the little girl and she did it again. Father starting laughing loudly. It made her happy. Suddenly she thought of asking him what she had been planning from morning. Her sister had asked her not to touch her cycle. She had out grown her tricycle and wanted a bigger one. It was the right time to ask dad, she thought. She told him what was on her mind. Dad looked at her affectionately. He started telling her his childhood memories. This was very rare. He rarely even mentioned it. Today was different in severalways including this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He: You know something? My school was about 2 kms from my house.She did not know how far was 2kms. But from his tone she understood itwas not nearby.&lt;br /&gt;She nodded and said "hmm" as she had gone into her story listening mode.&lt;br /&gt;He: I had no bicycle like Pammi (his elder daughter). And I did not carry lunch to school. I used to come home in the afternoons during the lunch break. I would come running on the pavement of the SH road(main road of the town). As the break was only for half an hour I would gobble up my food and then run back. I often would get muscle pulls in my stomach for running soon after lunch.&lt;br /&gt;She : hmm&lt;br /&gt;He: I dint have a bicycle, but my cousin, a year junior to me, had.&lt;br /&gt;She : Why?&lt;br /&gt;He : No one asked me if I wanted one.&lt;br /&gt;She : Hmm? Why so?&lt;br /&gt;He : I dint have a father to ask me.&lt;br /&gt;He smiled. His eyes were filled with sadness. But she turned pale and held the arms of his banian and started crying uncontrollably. Although young and incapable of understanding the death of someone, she knew this was something that made her sorry for her father. She hugged him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-5657529428720116643?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/5657529428720116643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=5657529428720116643&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/5657529428720116643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/5657529428720116643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2007/02/pappa.html' title='Pappa'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-117076302578220603</id><published>2007-02-06T05:54:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T01:35:36.084-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Review'/><title type='text'>Istambul...</title><content type='html'>I am reading Orhan Pamuk's "Istanbul". I seem to share a lot with this guy(he happens to be Nobel laureate, not that's why!). Like him, I like winter, staying back home in gloomy weather, think women are more sensible of the sexes, strongly rooted to my place of birth and home. It doesn't seem to be so boring having my home housed in the same building all through! I feel possessed when in love. So many more things...plan to go back home and complete reading it. His language is not colourful in the sense that he doesn't make it loud or highly descriptive. Its plain, black and white, melancholic, beautiful. I'm loving it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-117076302578220603?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/117076302578220603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=117076302578220603&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/117076302578220603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/117076302578220603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2007/02/istambul.html' title='Istambul...'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-117076153187832970</id><published>2007-02-06T05:29:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T01:41:48.497-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Review'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>Argumentative Indians!</title><content type='html'>Watched the movie "Guru". Enjoyed it in the sense that I dint get bored.But I don't think I would want to watch it once more. The after effectsof watching the movie was kind of fun. My roomie and I began discussingit. We had watched it on different days. The discussion turned to aninteresting debate - a post dinner one(to be noted, as pre dinnerdebates are mostly short lived). I am very unsure of what it startedlike..may be that the character "Guru" became successful by "breaking"the rules. My side of the argument was he did not "break" but only"bend" the rules. The system although is functional it was not flawless.He was very ambitious and only used the flaws in the system to hisadvantage and grew. He also improved the system in a way. Her argumentwas quite interesting. She strongly believes in the democratic values,feels no single person can get bigger than the system.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Agreed. But at some point he did go above the system. The systemwoke up in time to raise its own standards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She : Being corrupt is not bending the rules. It is perfect breaking therules. Not paying tax is as good as a crime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me : Fine. But this punishment was affordable to him. Paying a fewlakhs(or whatever money) is not that big a deal for a business tycoon.If someone finds punishment affordable then it means the system acceptsits flawed(at least in areas where the punishment is affordable) therebygiving concessions to those who break these rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She: Punishment is a punishment. Although it looks like a financial one,it can tarnish the image of the company and loose a lot of good will inthe market.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: In Guru's case the beneficiary was the common people and it was thegovernment that lost money. And moreover all Guru wanted to do was makemoney legally. The system with its corrupt bureaucracy came in his way.He found it far more time saving to just bribe and move on. Had thesystem been supportive there was no need for him to bend the rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She : He fought the system legally to get the license to start hisbusiness. Later he went on using corrupt ways to grow. Every individualin a system should act responsibly. He should have fought corruption.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me : Fighting corruption is easier said than done! It would beidealistic to expect him to have done so. He was achieving his means byexploiting the system. Even corruption is a part of this very system.Even education is a part of this very system. Expecting individuals tobe responsible enough although your system doesn’t do much to help themgrow is a little asking for much. Even he was a part of this system. Thesystem dint give him the chance to grow naturally, so he tweaked therules. Had he broken them, he could not have been able to bear theaftermaths. He helped the system grow. Such people stretch the limits ofthe imagination of the society. Who could have thought a company couldhave been started without any money at all. He raised it from the publicmoney. They are required....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Her part of the argument may not be fully represented as I was busy debating it out!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The debate had gone on well after midnight. We were so excited at someparts of the arguments we were, I guess talking loudly. Then we suddenlyrealised it was well past bedtime. Many things were not settled. Both ofagreed to remain peaceful in our disagreements. We have realised to stayunder the same roof we need not compromise on our beliefs or thoughts.So naturally we had enjoyed the debate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-117076153187832970?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/117076153187832970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=117076153187832970&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/117076153187832970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/117076153187832970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2007/02/argumentative-indians.html' title='Argumentative Indians!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-117033693433314179</id><published>2007-02-01T07:34:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T01:44:38.777-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fundas'/><title type='text'>Goldfish memory....gone in a blink!</title><content type='html'>I feel like a goldfish! Looking at huge lines of code. I have an uncanny feeling that the moment I blink I forget all that I had analysed and theflow! Like the goldfish memory. You blink, you forget. Like the girl inthe movie "50-First dates". Fortunately it happens only with the code.But forgetting in some ways is a gift. Life becomes simpler if yourealize what to remember and surely remember what to forget! No extra baggages please.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-117033693433314179?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/117033693433314179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=117033693433314179&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/117033693433314179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/117033693433314179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2007/02/goldfish-memorygone-in-blink.html' title='Goldfish memory....gone in a blink!'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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-12346839.post-116971284898678650</id><published>2007-01-25T02:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-06T06:08:02.656-06:00</updated><title type='text'>hmmm</title><content type='html'>I sometimes feel like a child. Attracted to anything that is colourful, anything animate, anything cheerful and gay. I refuse to "analize" whether it is "good" for me. Then either end up burning my finger or feel it was snatched from me! Now this is childish. How could I have assumed it was mine or it would be available to me for as long as I pleased or rather how did I assume it would be there, it has its own fancies and rules of the world. Whats this "it".. Could be that friendly smile, could be that availability of this really nice person to chat, could be sharing interests, could be a person, a place or a thing which just attracts and has the capacity to hold my attention. Am I so stubborn in not letting go things easily or is it always with me that whenever I like the cheese, it has to be moved. I wish I had appraisal discussions with my Maker once in a while. Look this guy creates me the way I am, and then teaches everything the hard way. I deserve my share of everything in the world. Yeah I do. Anyone listening..huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12346839-116971284898678650?l=pworldinwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/feeds/116971284898678650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12346839&amp;postID=116971284898678650&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/116971284898678650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12346839/posts/default/116971284898678650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pworldinwords.blogspot.com/2007/01/hmmm.html' title='hmmm'/><author><name>Pratibha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08107811299226193808</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></feed>
