<?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-22628222</id><updated>2011-12-21T09:59:47.786-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Out Of Ma Mind</title><subtitle type='html'>This is my personal page where i vent out all that keeps cooking in ma mind. Its gonna be all about what i feel, experience and think.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Rahul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15805325899518100781</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>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22628222.post-4243697683538497558</id><published>2010-06-19T03:38:00.016-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T00:27:58.465-05:00</updated><title type='text'>5 years to realize I am NOT an Employee !</title><content type='html'>Sitting across the table, biting on his pizza, my mentor (let's call him Mr.M) reasons that I may never be able to do 'business'. I'll let Time answer that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;P.r.e.l.u.d.e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That evening as we were heading home, our discussion headed in the direction of all things, according to me, not right at the work place. Mr. M was critical of my thoughts and disagreed vehemently. His remarks - a bitter truth - were something I could not ignore: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'At home you are willing to make all sorts of adjustments, but when it comes to work you think you are entitled.'   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'You talk about American and Japanese economies and compare it to ours. Those people respect their work. Do you?' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the last things I remember of that conversation was something on the lines of viewing the workplace as your home; its people as your family and owning up things and fixing the wrongs yourself. With the ride coming to an end and my journey back home alone in the city bus, those words were a constant companion - because I could not bring myself to agree with his thoughts entirely. The night passed but the thoughts remained until the next morning. And then it came - a moment of subtle realization. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I am &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;NOT &lt;/span&gt;an Employee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up in the family  of businessmen, as a child I often used to see my dad entertain some of the silliest requests of his customers with a smile and never complain. Whenever I'd protest, his reply was the same, unaltered over the years - 'They are our customers and we earn our bread because of the business opportunity and the support they extend to us.' There was something about Mr.M's remarks that reminded me of my dad's words; I could see that the dots were waiting to be connected. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not on-board with Mr.M's thoughts on treating thy workplace like your home. I am going to treat my work - as a business. And the goal of every business is to earn a profit. This keeps things much more simple and less emotional. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Balancing Production, Sales and Relationship.&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I have certain skills to 'sell' and the organization I work for is my 'customer'. While I continue to sell my skills to the best of my abilities, I mustn't forget that my boss, my boss' boss, my colleagues, my peers and everyone else in that organization is my customer - in one way or the other. Prudent relationship management coupled with quality deliverables will lead to long term profits in terms of 'larger opportunities' (which equates to 'more business' with the customer). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Loss is part of running a business.&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't always make a profit - most businesses start out making losses in short term before they begin earning a profit. I may not get to do exactly what I want to and it will just have to be a short term loss - I can't worry about it anymore. Fulfilling the customer's needs are more important.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Do what you are best at.&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every businessman has his style - you could choose between making a Toyota or a Bugati. I will play on my strengths and deliver high quality products. I am aware my deliveries tend to take time, and I will do a better job at communicating with my customers. My focus is going to be less on the competition and more on the results of my deliverables. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;You never tell your customer how to run his business.&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It does not matter to me the kind of workspace, recreational facilities, or cafeteria my customer provides me with - I am NOT entitled to anything more than what is provided to me. All I know is that I sought to do business with the particular customer and it was my decision. And for the opportunity given I can only be thankful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Add value to customer's business at all times without any expectations.&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until yesterday, I took things to heart when my suggestions were not heard. I will now try to add value to my customer whenever I have an opportunity to with the knowledge of the fact that my customer is not obliged to agree to all I suggest. My customer knows his business best and I must learn more about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;E.p.i.l.o.g.u.e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once asked my dad (he owns a wholesale business of fabrics) what was the most interesting part of the work he did and he replied - 'Buying the fabric at Rs.x and selling at Rs.y in a way that both my customer and I are happy with the transaction.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until now I was in the adolecence of my career and a few people who have taught me some very valuable lessons during this period and whom I cannot thank enough include: Andy, Jacob, Mike, Subbu and Khivraj. I had once told Mr.M that everyone takes time to realize - some take months; others years. It has taken me 5 years to realize that while I do my job I do not have to be an 'Employee'; I can be an 'Entrepreneur'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22628222-4243697683538497558?l=outofmamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/feeds/4243697683538497558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22628222&amp;postID=4243697683538497558' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/4243697683538497558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/4243697683538497558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/2010/06/5-years-to-realize-i-am-not-employee.html' title='5 years to realize I am NOT an Employee !'/><author><name>Rahul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15805325899518100781</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-22628222.post-3220778718236950436</id><published>2009-12-18T15:20:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T10:28:06.267-06:00</updated><title type='text'>One more Long Island (large) please</title><content type='html'>Please come now I think I'm falling&lt;br /&gt;Hold me now &lt;br /&gt;I'm six feet from the edge&lt;br /&gt;And may be six feet &lt;br /&gt;Ain't so far down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(See the video and lyrics links below)&lt;br /&gt;. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, 18th December, has been a long day and it refuses to die. &lt;br /&gt;Kiwi left for UK; I got off the CRS project; witnessed the annual awards ceremony at work - all of which leave me pained. Worst of all - all of them on the same day. "It's funny", I think. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder, come Monday whom will I call when Kiwi won't be around; what would my work day be like - without Jacob, Patrick, Abhay and Jatin; how long will I need to wait for that formal note of appreciation? The thoughts I've been thinking over the past couple days are no different from Nelly Furtardo's song - 'Why Do Good Things Come To An End?' A great friend gone away, a great team, with some of my dearest friends, which I am no longer a part of; a job well done appreciated by all except by those who control the strings of my career's growth. I wonder: 'Why?' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 'self' tells me this is 'Balance'. You simply do not get all you want. And so you always crave - you get some, others you don't. And then the cycle repeats. It also tells me that in life I will meet them again so I should cheer up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas, I know that 'Time' and 'Distance' make great barriers. And there is only so much one can converse over a phone call or IM. The feeling is familiar - just as when I had to leave behind Mike and Debbie in AK; Sajal and Supriya in Mumbai; and my team in Houston. Here are these people who come into your life, and without the slightest hint they become a part of your life, who care for you and whom you care for, adding to the meaning and making sense of your life. And just when you feel lucky to have them with you, it's time for them to leave. And you just stand by watching their distant bodies fade away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I hang in a limbo - uncertain about everything - yet again. "Surely you aren't supposed to feel anything right? Surely you're strong right?" I wish I could answer in affirmation. 'But I can't', so I hear my 'self' scream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, I want to raise a toast of a Long Island as I bid my friends adieu. Sadly, only saline water fills my peg. And I am ready for a second round and a third please. I refuse to pass out just as this night refuses to give in to the next day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more round please... and please keep that Rock playing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hold me now  &lt;br /&gt;I'm six feet from the edge&lt;br /&gt;And I'm thinking may be six feet &lt;br /&gt;Ain't so far down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(See the video and lyrics links below)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Video : &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5yY1Nrznh4I"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5yY1Nrznh4I&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lyrics: &lt;a href="http://www.lyricsfreak.com/c/creed/one+last+breath_20034297.html"&gt;http://www.lyricsfreak.com/c/creed/one+last+breath_20034297.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22628222-3220778718236950436?l=outofmamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/feeds/3220778718236950436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22628222&amp;postID=3220778718236950436' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/3220778718236950436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/3220778718236950436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/2009/12/one-more-long-island-large-please.html' title='One more Long Island (large) please'/><author><name>Rahul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15805325899518100781</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-22628222.post-2925533935162660308</id><published>2008-12-27T10:35:00.081-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T21:05:38.590-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ho Ho Ho ... Merry Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"Its Christmas Day 2008 and I am running frantically towards gate B11 to board flight CO1581 from Seattle to Anchorage (Alaska) with my mind racing ahead to imagine what's next?..." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am guess that there's a strong bond between the three of us - winters, air planes and I. My vacation this Christmas turned out to be a sequel to my first visit to the United States back in Jan 2007 only more benign this time :). If I were to use one word for all that happened in these 9 days it would be - &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Serendipity !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;19 December, Friday&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flight CO152 lands at the Liberty International Airport, Newark but it was way past an hour before I got to get out of the plane. Yeah I know what your question is and here's the answer - The ground below was covered with at least an inch of ice and the ground crew was finding it hard to move the ramp towards the door of the airplane. Safety you know! I guess Santa decided to shower some snow (storm) as he flew over Newark ;o) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My connecting flight to DC was cancelled. Well, I could not be more happy. Ok ok... I am answering that - My original plan was to travel to Newark on Monday coz I figured my uncle and aunt in DC would be busy with office work. It also worked because Thauseef's final exam would be over by then. That meant 4-5 hours of travel each way to meet Thauseef and Sanjay (friends from high school). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now you know why that smile on face ;) Well the good news was - Bhai's exam got postponed. And so I got to spend the night at Thauseef's place; meet Sanjay after 8 years; meet Bhai's friends from Punjab; playing Bhabbbbi (a card game) while mixing from Long Island to an exotic Margarita to Mangolain MotherFucxx (that's the name really !) to RC and so on; chatting with Thauseef while he played the guitar for me and quitely going to bed while soft rock music filled the air. I was flying to DC the next morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;20 December, Saturday ~~~~~&gt; 23 December, Wednesday&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 2 years long wait finally ended - met Jitu uncle, Roopal aunt and their little one Kanish ! Reaching home I was welcomed by garma-garam Aaloo parathes.. mmmm... and uncle's teekha green chutney.... uffff.. mann it sure did redefine the word 'HOT' for moi. Had a very peaceful sleep that night... like the kind you get on the first day of a long vacation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up to a steaming cup of mast 'masala Chai'. Refreshing ! In the next couple days that followed Goddess Annapurna showered her blessings in the form of uncle and aunt's cooking - pani puri, thin crust hand-tossed pizza, bean-garden salad, hot upma, traditional rajasthani gatte sabji, garama-garam roti and dal chawal. And since we are talking about food here, lemme not forget the best Falafel uncle got me at the Amsterdam Falafel Shop located at the 18th St NW, DC. People planning on visiting better not miss this. I was also enlightened on a new style of eating Tangerines with cilantro-mint chutney and lemon juice - a Jitu uncle creation. That, my dear readers, was by far the best food I came across in this entire trip. Ask me and I'll be happy to pass on the wisdom ;)     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next 3 days were spent going around DC and seeing its spectacular monuments; visiting The Museum of Art and the Air &amp; Space Museum respectively. From the little experience, I can now say that anyone visiting DC should plan for at least a week to be able to see at least half of its museums which are not only world-class but surprisingly generous in that there are no admission fees to visit any of its museums. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click to see pictures: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/rahul.2111/WashingtonNationalMall#"&gt;National Mall&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/rahul.2111/MuseumOfArtsWashington#"&gt;Museum of Arts&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/rahul.2111/AirAndSpaceMuseum#"&gt;Air &amp; Space Museum&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These 3 days also allowed me to get to know uncle and aunt better and get a closer look at the life of two individuals after marriage (which I too will come across in a couple years I guess). Playing with Kanish filled in for the time I missed Guddu and Pari (my nephew and niece). He's a real cute kid. Muah :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/SV2h3y2AtzI/AAAAAAAAFlA/Hbw1ZktDWzs/s1600-h/washington+family.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/SV2h3y2AtzI/AAAAAAAAFlA/Hbw1ZktDWzs/s320/washington+family.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286559517516019506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jitu Mama, Roppal Mami and Kanish&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Christmas party was planned for 24th eve which incidentally was the day I'd fly to Anchorage. So the evening before I left, all of us got together and decorated the home and clicked a dozen pictures of Kanish and family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/rahul.2111/HomeAwayFromHome#"&gt;Home Away From Home&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;24 December, Wednesday&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;hr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The time is 6:25 AM. Waiting at the DCA - National Airport, I am devising a strategy as I picture this in my mind - "In 20 mins, I'll be flying to Cleveland. I better rush to catch my connecting flight to Seattle which would leave in 40 mins of my arrival at Cleveland..." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now you see dear Santa had a differing agenda which you shall discover shortly. And so I came to know in the next 5 mins. An announcement was made indicating that the ground at the Cleveland airport was covered with about 2 inches of ice and no flight would be landing in or taking off from there. Great !!! Santa strikes again. Fingers crossed I hoped that by the time I make it to Cleveland, my connecting flight stayed. Only after 2 hours did we finally leave for Cleveland while I mentally prepared myself for his next surprise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reaching Cleveland, my fingers still crossed, I bolt for the Customer Service center of Continental Airlines only to be greeted by an agent who very politely informs me that my connecting flight to Seattle has already left. Wow !!! Now don't you agree with what I said a little while ago about winters, planes and I. See! You can't 'not believe' me now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the part about Santa's differing agenda. After waiting in queue for about an hour I finally get to a Continental representative who is to help me look for alternative routes to Seattle. For a moment I was saddened when I was told that all flights to Seattle for the day were booked and the earliest I could reach there was only the next day. Damn! This also meant my connecting flight to Anchorage for that day was missed as well. But pay attention to those words dear reader - 'for a moment...'. Yes, coz the next moment I was all excited in my heart. I know exactly the question that's popped up in your head and the answer is I would reach Seattle the next morning but not via Cleveland... it would be via Vegas !!! Yippiee !!!!!!!!!!! And so I got yet another gift from Santa - An overnight stay in Vegas - the City of Lights, the entertainment Capital of the World. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two hours later I am aboard a flight and by 3:00 PM I have already travelled across the breath of this country to fly from the East coast to the West arriving in Las Vegas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;. . . . . . . . . . &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncle dearest, as always, helped me in time to book a hotel for the night. After checking into the hotel and freshening up, I decided to head out on 'The Strip' (the stretch of road where you'll find the biggest casinos). "But wait a min...', I heard my stomach complain. Poor guy had nothing interesting to feast upon since morning. Not to let down my tummy dearest, I walked to this desi restaurant - India Oven. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I relished eating my meal, my eyes wandered off to this gentleman across my table, who very gently and carefully decorated his Samosa with 'green' chutney. I could not help but ask how he was enjoying his Samosa. 10 mins later I was sitting with Dan and his wife Errin who were vacationing in Vegas. Another 20 mins later I was with them in their truck driving to The Venetian. We spent time together visiting these architectural marvels moving from one casino to the other on the Strip. How I spent that night in Vegas, you can see for yourself - &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/rahul.2111/Vegas#"&gt;Vegas&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/SV2nohES02I/AAAAAAAAFog/X5aXmi-1zTw/s1600-h/DSC02691.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/SV2nohES02I/AAAAAAAAFog/X5aXmi-1zTw/s320/DSC02691.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286565852115817314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dan, Errin and I &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After about 1:00 AM the couple and I parted ways. I spent the next couple hours touring other casinos; loosing money and clicking photographs and until I got so tired that I did not wanna see any more casinos. It was a long walk back to the hotel. Slept for a couple hours and got ready to leave. I hear a silent prayer in my mind - 'Please no more more surprises !"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;25 December, Thursday&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;HR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that wouldn't fit into the equation devised by Santa rite? Why ? Well here's Y - My flight from Vegas to Seattle was delayed. By now, I had lost it. I was already deciding if I missed the flight to Anchorage, I am simply calling off my trip and returning home. 30 mins later I can see the clouds below me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;. . . . . . . . . . .&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its Christmas Day and I am running frantically towards gate B11 to board flight CO1581 from Seattle to Anchorage which would take off in dot 10 mins, with my mind racing ahead to imagine what's next? I swear, this was the fastest I ran in my life from the moment the doors to my flight from Vegas opened on the grounds of Seattle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9 mins and 29 secs later - Phew! Relief! I get to catch a breather. As I stand in front of Gate B11, I am thankful to dear Santa. My flight to Anchorage had not left yet. A delay again! Turned out to be good for me just as everything else that's happened in this trip. I had just enough time to grab a cafe mocha and a muffin before I sat back on the seat, closing my eyes to see once again the most beautiful place I've been on Earth - Anchorage, Alaska. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;25 December, Thursday ~~~~~~&gt; 27 December, Saturday&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking towards the Baggage Claims area, I could smell the familiar scent of the Alaskan air. Climbing down the stairs, I spot Mike standing in a corner in his beige jacket and black woolen cap. As I walk to him and extend my hands to shake, I am surprised as he welcomes me with a warm and tight hug. I was overjoyed. I was happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riding in the car with Mike, memories from 2 years ago came back alive as we began hitting each other with wit. After checking into the hotel and freshening up, we headed for Mike's home. I was visiting their home for the very first time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;. . . . . . . . . . . . &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I closed the door behind me, I find Gabriel leaping towards me. Gaby is their dog, a real sweet pet :) I walked to the kitchen area and found myself giving a warm hug to Debbie. I had waited for months to see her. She seemed tired and stressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/SV23VFjDBUI/AAAAAAAAFpQ/119-T2uV2ao/s1600-h/DSC02816.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/SV23VFjDBUI/AAAAAAAAFpQ/119-T2uV2ao/s320/DSC02816.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286583110497142082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gabriel &amp; I &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the Christmas dinner we had together, I enjoyed the war of wits between James and Matthew, their sons with Mike and Debbie stepping into the game occasionally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then set out to decorate the Christmas Tree. My joy knew no bounds when I came to know they had saved the Christmas Tree decoration until I came bcoz its a family thing and so it could not begin without me. Decorating the tree was fun, and I was amazed by the fact that Debbie had saved decorations from past Christmases - decorations dating back to Mike and Debbie's first Christmas after marriage, when James and Matthew were born, stuff their grandparents had made and so on. Suddenly I found the entire affair of decorating the tree so interesting. It was beautiful... very special. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/SV2yjSUZSvI/AAAAAAAAFpI/9a2M9cykaiQ/s1600-h/DSC02804.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/SV2yjSUZSvI/AAAAAAAAFpI/9a2M9cykaiQ/s320/DSC02804.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286577856885377778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Our Christmas Tree&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then got to open my Christmas presents - a nice and soft woolen cap, a pair of warm gloves (a very thoughtful gift given the temperature outside -20 degree C), a cool wind chime with Alaska inscribed on it, a Barnes &amp; Nobles gift card and a beautiful little box of chocolates. I was all smiling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here are the &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/rahul.2111/Vegas#"&gt;Christmas Gifts&lt;/a&gt; I had got for them. It makes me smile when I think of how I have left a souvenir decoration hanging on their tree for future Christmases. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/SV1886EpT_I/AAAAAAAAFcs/hVpC4iOcXPs/s1600-h/DSC02422.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/SV1886EpT_I/AAAAAAAAFcs/hVpC4iOcXPs/s200/DSC02422.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286518923425566706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Christmas Tree decoration I got for Mike and Debbie&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Halfway through the decorations, I decided to take a break and the next thing I know I fell asleep. A little later Mike drove me back to the hotel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's one thing I ought to mention about the rides in the car. Whenever Mike and I are riding the car together, we've got a third companion - Music. This time around it was even more special. This time Mike was playing his own recorded songs and those sung by his vocal teacher - Peggy Monaghan. I was immediately hooked to 2 of Mike's songs Peggy had sung - 'Here I am' and 'Waste My Time'. Her voice - soft, soothing and captivating. A beautiful voice. I had him play these songs over and over :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day Mike and I went to the Open Mic at Phlyis's Cafe. Here's a song that Mike performed - &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/rahul.2111/ChristmasInAnchorage#5286527734737356114"&gt;'Here I Am'&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;. . . . . . . . . . . . . .&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the next two days, Mike and I spent time visiting his new office in Downtown, revisiting the 5th Avenue mall where we used to have our lunch, and meeting up with Craig Fisher (friend and colleague with whom Mike and I had worked together on a project couple years back) over a cup of coffee. Debbie was busy with cleaning up the home and completing the decorations at home. I had cooked some corn soup on the last day of my stay there and while I am not sure about the rest, Matthew seemed to like it ;). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/SV2oeU_D7oI/AAAAAAAAFoo/S16q8iWIPkc/s1600-h/DSC02803.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/SV2oeU_D7oI/AAAAAAAAFoo/S16q8iWIPkc/s320/DSC02803.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286566776585580162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Team in Anchorage - Mike and Craig&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click here: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/rahul.2111/ChristmasInAnchorage#"&gt;Christmas in Anchorage&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In all I flew about 7000 miles in this vacation covering travelling in all 4 directions - Newark &amp; DC (East); Vegas (West), Anchorage (North) and back home to Houston (South). I am glad I was able to make this trip to meet Mike and Debbie before I left for India and what better time than Christmas. With the trip completed I am happy, just as Mike and Debbie were, to have been together once again. This will be Christmas to remember. &lt;strong&gt;Thank you Santa. :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/SV2pFPIvNlI/AAAAAAAAFow/FgCZHPjdL5s/s1600-h/DSC02727.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/SV2pFPIvNlI/AAAAAAAAFow/FgCZHPjdL5s/s320/DSC02727.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286567445030450770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22628222-2925533935162660308?l=outofmamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/feeds/2925533935162660308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22628222&amp;postID=2925533935162660308' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/2925533935162660308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/2925533935162660308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/2008/12/ho-ho-ho-merry-christmas.html' title='Ho Ho Ho ... Merry Christmas'/><author><name>Rahul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15805325899518100781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/SV2h3y2AtzI/AAAAAAAAFlA/Hbw1ZktDWzs/s72-c/washington+family.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22628222.post-4067356340995743259</id><published>2008-07-08T18:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T19:28:44.913-05:00</updated><title type='text'>reality BITES !!!!!</title><content type='html'>"YOU WON'T UNDERSTAND NOW; BUT THERE WILL COME A TIME WHEN YOU WILL !!!" &lt;br /&gt;I really did not when Mom and Dad repeated this for the zillionth time as I grew up under their watchful eyes. Seems like the time has come and reality as it occurs to me now 'reality really bites'. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked from home today; trying hard to complete my tasks so that I could be with Yash as he underwent surgery. My work appeared as an obstacle; I could not be there where I felt I needed to be. Guess I am waking up to yet another sight where things are no longer served on a platter. You can't get everything you want, as you want, when you want. As I kid I was always shielded from this 'reality'; my parents understood this and protected me from getting hit as much as they could. And I owe more than my life to them for that beautful childhood. Away from home, away from them, I am lost, scared now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a kid I guess, my biggest mistake was to have nurtured the illusion - 'When I grow older, I will run things my way.' Little did I realize then, that then was when I really did run things my way. All it took was - cacophony of my crying and a few tears to get to what I wanted. Now I crawl up in a corner and allow them to flow away with the shower, easily escaping the count. Five minutes back, it dawned on me that I cried not only for the time thats gone by - the days when I could imagine about the perfect peaceful world and not get an inch closer to reality; more so for the blows pa and ma took to provide for me and the rest of my family. I am not sure if I can ever display such courage of surviving in this world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figured we have limited vision when we look straight. You get in control when you rise above the plane; with a bird's eye view. I have no clue where I am heading. Quarter life crisis - interesting term they found for the state of this confusion too - what am i earning? is it enough ? will it be enough ? do I wanna study futher ? do I wanna get married ? should I be religious ? I dont even have the slightest cue of whether this is exactly why i am pissed off. My intellectual mind is giving me a hint - may be its that sickening email from some crazy asshole who is threatning to withold our increment/promotion letters. What do I do - lill' kid can't run to papa and cry; can't throw tantrums anymore. So who is gonna protect the kid now ? The show that ran for past 25 years suddenly has reached an end; and the kid is all guesses - What's my role now? Having said that I realize my problems are not the worst in this world and thinking of that makes me feel even more guilty - for having felt guilty in the first place over what someone more miserable has the right to say - 'hardly a thing to worry about'. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling the misery, that I did over the past few hours, when I was scared, a thought crossed my mind - Moksha! May be thats the ultimate goal of life. If it really is then its the BEST SADIST game ever invented. For that one moment I felt I understood why one would want Moksha - to get off; to escape this miserable cycle of birth and death. For sometime now I have seen my self change from an atheist to an agnostic and now to someone who is even losing that ground of defence because he can't find absolutely no logic that explains it all - Life ? So I seek shelter now, willing to open my eyes to religion, wanting to learn to escape. And then when I try to work things out, I am forced to feel guilt for having surrendered to the pleasures of senses. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other thought that crossed my mind was this - god and alcohol - one and the same. They are both a path to attainment of bliss. Yeah one may be for the real while the other is only ephemeral. Yet both offer me a way to get rid of all my worries, my frustrations and heighten me to the state where I can be carefree, dance and sing and experience joy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I feeling any better now - as my post nears its end, as I have no more words to scribble? Yeah I could only consider my current state of mind as Yash's - as an affect of being under the influence of anaesthesia for as long as I can until I feel excruciating pain; until reality bites - again... and then again... endlessly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22628222-4067356340995743259?l=outofmamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/feeds/4067356340995743259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22628222&amp;postID=4067356340995743259' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/4067356340995743259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/4067356340995743259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/2008/07/reality-bites.html' title='reality BITES !!!!!'/><author><name>Rahul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15805325899518100781</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-22628222.post-4351729361552723024</id><published>2008-06-12T23:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T00:44:19.662-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thick Dark Clouds... Move Away Ever So Slowly. Hang on !</title><content type='html'>I get in to work as usual and DJ pops in a 'Congrats' over the Communicator. and then it hit me - I completed 3 years as a Software Engineer last week. As a day it marks the anniversary to casually get back to ppl from your batch and pass on the 'congrats' note and be nostalgic about the 'great' time spent during the training. But there is a ballooning question growing every single day i think about it - 'Where am i Heading?' No answers yet. No knock knock on the doors. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In spurts of excitement every now 'n' then I tap in a few keys on the board to folks long forgotten over gChat and everytime I wake up from these long hibernation periods I am pleasantly surprised... to know everybody is doing so 'different' from what i am doing. Over the last few days I did a remote handshake with Polly, Thauseef, Jayshree and Akshay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Polly has taken to Photography (she was always a brilliant artist making my maps in history classes); her elder brother is a Fashion Designer; the last I heard about him years ago - he was in Paris; her younger brother Somdev is growing as a Tennis champion, currently play8ing and studying here in the US. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met Thauseef after an unknown period of time (running into several years) couple weeks back in Harrisson, NJ. The innocent looking funny guy with spectacles, otherwise teased as 'Underwear bhai' in his circle of friends', has indeed groomed himself into, as he puts it, 'Ultra-aware' Bhai. Dude has turned into a master writer and I've turned a patron of his poetry passing on the link to his blogs to as many ppl as i can. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayshree has finally reached the point of putting down her papers at Google and take a U-turn from doing dumb job-work to plunging into the Publishing industry. I just learnt that she loves animals from her new blog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A chance hovering of my mouse over Akshay's profile in gchat revealed that dude is also into poems. His poems are different from most others I have read. I haven't read a lot of them to express a clear opinion but the immediate feel I got was - his poems are a revelation of his depth of thought. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there are others as well - Sanjay into Visual designing, Sarvesh, Nishanth taking their family business to newer heights, Jayanth finally doing his MBA in Singapore, Abhishek working @ Texas Instruments, the list can go on endlessly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I see them, hear about them I am happy for one simple reason - they are doing things they've always loved doing. The unemotional situation at my end being - 'I am still not sure what am I looking for.' Unemotional - because I always loved everything related to 'logic' from the time I learnt of its meaning from Jayanth, back in 11th standard, walking towards the school gates carrying in my hands my Computer Science paper in which I had failed for the third time. But it does not feel 'right', somehow...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past three years, I can only recall a handful of days where I felt 'real excitement'. I've been developing software for the past 3 years and even while I hate to admit I cannot resist confessing that 'I don't have my basics right.'. May be that's some reason for joy, cos I know what I don't know. And I am hoping that by the time I bridge this gap, and have what I have then, I will know if thats' what I wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The corporate setup within which my art sells sometimes takes away all 'logical' excitement. It is replaced by a different excitement, if it excites - 'working' with ppl to 'create' the software. As I continue to notice around me - its one of the most challenging tasks I've come across in these past 3 years. You are no longer the sole owner of what you do. Its not the same as me drawing Pencil Sketches; creating hand-made frames or developing a slick 'C' code sipping at my coffee in my study. It appears to me that more than the skills to develop clean code; u need 'knack' to make a team 'work'. My own experience working in 'Teams' have been nightmarish for most part. Did I learn that if the word 'TEAM' were to be an Acronym then 'T' would stand for 'Tolerance' - Yes. Do I enjoy it - NO. Reason ? I hate the idea of compromise. Learning to know compromise as a vital tool is good, but livin with it does not seem to be my cup of tea yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its a long road ahead and ironically the bright light of the achivements of such ppls becomes blinding for me sometimes. I am only being honest here. However, amidst these thick dark clouds, my instinct tells me there is light waiting to tear the darkness apart, only I can't see it just yet. The feeling is growing only stonger everyday that - I too will find 'my' way, just as everyone, just as anyone. That will be the rainbow after the storm. :o)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22628222-4351729361552723024?l=outofmamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/feeds/4351729361552723024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22628222&amp;postID=4351729361552723024' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/4351729361552723024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/4351729361552723024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/2008/06/thick-dark-clouds-move-away-ever-so.html' title='Thick Dark Clouds... Move Away Ever So Slowly. Hang on !'/><author><name>Rahul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15805325899518100781</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-22628222.post-671418401903160759</id><published>2008-05-17T10:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-24T10:54:38.871-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to the SOC?AL</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Vrrr... Vrrrr.... Vrrrrrr.... Vrrrrrroooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmmmmm....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life could zip by you even before you get the faintest clue.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;What exactly do I mean by that?? Well just expressing how fast things can change around you. A friend of mine once told me... whether life moves fast or slow, its all relative (to how fast you move)!! For an introvert, the change can be overwhelming !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were taught in school - 'Mans a social animal'. Doesn't matter if you think ur an introvert, u'd still need someone around him; you just can't be alone, cos its just not possible. This is best expressed by Tom Hank's attempts to get back to the city in movie 'Cast Away'. Everyone of us will have their mood swings, will wanna be alone, but after that whaT? The idea sunk in only this early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Theres a myriad of ways to connect - blogs, social networking sites, chat messengers, mobiles, SMSs, emails - tools to save you building the boat to get back to the mainland. You never know you might find something to hang to for a brief moment in time. Its only a matter of 'when' you sense that and 'want' to go back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We returned this morning - Toffee and I, after a night out in the streets of New york - the city of people. As you walk those streets, watch people around you - some laughing, some just having a fag, some indulging in puppy love while others goin crazy, some lost, some mouthing obscenities, some just wanting to achieve a straight walk or talk, whichever.. whatever. &lt;br /&gt;You'd &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;think&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; - 'these are all real people... all of them...' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first pub we visited, [which by the way was Toffee's idea of showcasing his cheap skates - $10 for 5 shots of any alcohol ;o)], I saw this man head-banging, the pair of men women exchange, occasional dancing to the sound of beating music, a deafeningly noisy floor jam packed with ppl. Another pub we wnt to had karaoke and boy it was fun watching them sing and dance. Toffee too did a number 'Common baby light my fire' by 'tHe dOOrs' which, by btw I think, was better than most others. and then... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;the thought continues &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- 'people... all these people that are out here... are here just to steal some moments off of their 'everyday lives' and have a good time and be 'happy' while the night lasts.' - a single thread seemed to run through all.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/SDgyMiUl9TI/AAAAAAAADdI/DIrRcVehcW4/s1600-h/CROWDED%2520BAR_600x600_w_955e27d07cfbe9e8f530c833a1545cb9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/SDgyMiUl9TI/AAAAAAAADdI/DIrRcVehcW4/s320/CROWDED%2520BAR_600x600_w_955e27d07cfbe9e8f530c833a1545cb9.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203964560379606322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have an interesting thought around why world preached - 'say no to alcohol' - its a conspiracy - it doesn't wanna hear the truth, and thats all you get - just plain and simple (and sometimes HARD) truth when you hold that glass. I wondered what my reasons were to take on to alcohol - guess its was frustration and anger from work last year. Sometime from now, I might think of its as an excuse to spend a good time with ppl. I still have to be pulled into joining the rest of them though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you ever thought as I did, you'd think we all have 2 personalities at least - one what the world sees us as, and the other is what you know about yourself. All these days, I've worked to gel these 2 personalities. I am on the verge of taking a U-Turn here. May be theres a reason why I thought the way I thought of the 2 personalities. Sometimes, maybe its just better to forget your self... for just a little while... lighten up and greet the world with your arms wide open, embrace the love that you get in these tiny packets of time while you can. You may not find the perfect 'true happiness' but you'll realize you were not sad either and that those moments were indeed moments of happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rahul, Welcome to the SoC?aL !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22628222-671418401903160759?l=outofmamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/feeds/671418401903160759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22628222&amp;postID=671418401903160759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/671418401903160759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/671418401903160759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/2008/05/welcome-to-socal.html' title='Welcome to the SOC?AL'/><author><name>Rahul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15805325899518100781</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/_rqtqb4eP4fY/SDgyMiUl9TI/AAAAAAAADdI/DIrRcVehcW4/s72-c/CROWDED%2520BAR_600x600_w_955e27d07cfbe9e8f530c833a1545cb9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22628222.post-4347135251173409818</id><published>2008-05-02T23:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T10:16:04.654-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Demands of an AgoraSocioPhobic</title><content type='html'>Before I can put together this blog, I have to search for a word that describes my condition when having dinner in a restaurant with a group of 11 folks who live in my neighbourhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not bad, it did not take me long to find a word. Bad news is - it ain't a complete match - Sociophobic - fear of society or socializing? May be but my guess is not always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flashback...&lt;br /&gt;3 45 . 4 5 6 4 4 2 4 5 4 634 2 . 3 5 4 52 . 4354  3 4 24 3 5 3 24 3 5 4 5 343 5 4 53 ~ 4 3 46 43 5 4 6 . 34 3 543 . 4 3 25 4 5 3 4 3 5 45 3 5 4 63435 3 4 3 53 5 6 4 5 6 545 3 4 3 5 44 34 5 4 6 4 5 4 3 5 6 . 324 5 878 6 5 . 5378 8 9 8 65 554 3 4 345 3 4 53 5 | 4 5 43 3 5 53 55 53 5353 54 53 54 2 5 698 8 7 44 324 5 5 8 785 4 3 43 21 5 66 58 5 45 42 4 5 65  73 4 5 34 5 3 4 5 4 5 4 535 3 4 5 5 6 8 . 543 2 3 6 7 89 6 5 4 4325 6 7 7  6 52 4 5 8 6 5 4 2 3 4 865 43 2 3 4 4 6 798 7 3 4 . 34 56 97 0 6 6 54 2 5 6 5 60 7 6 5 3 2 78 6 5 5 2 3 87 62 3 55 355 35 2234 12 5 1 78 00 21 55 34 7 2 5 2 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[wondering what those numbers mean ??? - trying my luck with the Matrix approach. Nah, ain;t drunk yet, still waiting for folks to join the party]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had a notorious history of being incapable of making any decisions, selections, choices etc When my family went out to shop, I would be the only kid who would not have purchased anything - unable to decide what to buy - either what I liked seemed to be outrageously expensive to me or nothing in the racks ever deserved to catch my attention. It might sound trivial, but for me it wasn't. I started despising the thought of shopping; dreading another embarrassing episode in the shopping store. The most recent episode that I can recall is 3 years back, when I was shopping before my deputation to Vashi. I could not zero in on a pair of shoes for over 2 months. I had practically roamed any and every shop selling shoes in Chennai but simply could not buy a single pair from the hundreds I must have seen. Now don't imagine I haven't secured one till date. I did... and I had written a blog about it then &lt;a href http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/2006/09/my-search-for-perfect-one-ends.html&gt;My search for the Perfect One end&lt;/a&gt; . I still have that very pair of shoes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People who have come across me, will know me to be 'extremely' demanding if that's the best superlative they can find. I guess we all have a 'taste', but I seem to have a 'richer' one. It would be unlike me to settle for something 'I' consider mediocre. Maybe thats' how I've grown up - saddened by the fact that my elder brother got all attention, I crawled up in my own shell; took to hobbies which weren't the usual male things - sketching, cooking, arts and crafts etc. These activites require a lot of detailing. I guess, I was trying to liberate myself from the constant comparison between me and my brother by every damn soul around me; maybe this was the way the little me chose to get attention. After 24 years, I can only say, "I am conditioned to behave the way I behave. This is me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another behaviour I tend to showcase, which people can testify to is - "I get saturated with just about anything very early." Again, I tend to 'realize' the monotonousness of any activity much faster than most other individuals. Once I reach that point, I have to have something new, something different, else I get restless. I used to hate myself for being the way I was and having to hear people complain about me was pathetic. Life away from home in the past three years and meeting so many different kinds of people had brought me closer to my 'self'. Now I have got 'saturated' with all the embarrassment and self-kill... now I don't really care... You can call it ignorance... but I choose to say: &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;center&gt; "t h a t 's &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; h o w &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; r e a l l y &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; a m &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp !!!" &lt;/center&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you rather call me a sociopath, self-centered guy? I guess, it does not worry me now. If you knew the me about 15 years back, you'd know me to be the most talkative child in my entire family. I would talk to just about anyone. I still love to talk. The difference is I wouldn't open up to just about anyone. Its like shopping, you know what to look for in the wheres only after a series of [its not here]s - because you learn with every mistake. Sames the case with me, guess I got saturated of meeting the wrong people and naturally learnt to be careful and selective in whom I choose to share my thoughts, feelings - happy/sad with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking a pick of some of the recent event since yesterday:&lt;br /&gt;1. Going out to dine with a huge gang - Hated it&lt;br /&gt;2. Have the same people over at home to drink with - Liked it&lt;br /&gt;3. Go to Space Center NASA with a gang - Will Hate it&lt;br /&gt;4. Go to a beach house with the same gang - May Like it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know how 'I' will respond to events such as these. I 'hate' being pulled up in a gang, with all the sweet talk that I should join em.. blah.. blah. I could be misunderstood very easily here. I know and understand ppl care that's why they bother to ask. But there are 2 things to consider - 1. I feel suffocation in places I don't like to be 2. I would rather be happy if ppl knew how I felt in #1. See... thats' me - demanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Googling for my word all this time.... Hey I think they have a word - Agoraphobic - fear of places?? But is that the word? Nah... I think it ought to be AgoraSocioPhobic. You tell me !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22628222-4347135251173409818?l=outofmamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/feeds/4347135251173409818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22628222&amp;postID=4347135251173409818' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/4347135251173409818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/4347135251173409818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/2008/05/demands-of-agorasociophobic.html' title='Demands of an AgoraSocioPhobic'/><author><name>Rahul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15805325899518100781</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-22628222.post-3139544034637797134</id><published>2008-03-22T20:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T14:44:53.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mumbai Calling - End of Days (Day 3)</title><content type='html'>Good Morniinnng Mumbaaaaiiiiiii !!!!&lt;br /&gt;I wake up to loads of bright sunlight on the morning of my last Day in Mumbai. I lay there not willing to move and hoping that time too would join me. As I try to convince myself that 'yes, its the last day indeed', Sajal miaan walks in cup of hot tea. 'Kya baat hai', I say and savor the desi chai finding it good; surprised that it was beyond my expectations from Sajal (in kitchen that is).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fastforwarding all the freshening up and getting ready part, Sajal and I decided to meet Supriya at the gates of FAM Society at about 10.00 AM. And then there is a change in plan, I wanted to meet Nishant (aka bhrathashri, guruji) so we hire a rickshaw and go to Teen Tanki. As usual I am late, but Nishant was there, with his lill daughter, waiting to receive us. I had met Nishant the past year I was in Vashi. What started as a joke of speaking shudh Hindi and I using terms such as - Pranam (hello), Shubh Ratri(good night) and Bhrathashri (elder brother), I have come to look up to Nishant as elder brother indeed. We had spent a good amount of time over innumerable cups of some great elachi chai then (past year). He seemed no different from the last time I had met him. We walked to his home and spent some time with his family. As it occurred that Supriya must be waiting for us, we shoot for FAM society. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was time for Mumbai darshan now. The threesome us, then went to the Vashi railway station. To our dismay, the local train wasn't in service for the next 4 odd hours; we move to the Vashi depot. Then again the bus would take a lot of time so we decide to go in for the next best means of travel - Taxi ! We walk to the closest taxi stand. There was a bit of confusion in that the taxi's weren't at the actual taxi stand but on the lane opposite to it. The sum of the distance we had walked was on the rise. Nevertheless, we were on our way to the city of Mumbai. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R_KPauf_LSI/AAAAAAAADZA/lftV347Aqek/s1600-h/DSC01958.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R_KPauf_LSI/AAAAAAAADZA/lftV347Aqek/s200/DSC01958.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184363810378427682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Sajal - showing us the way&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R_KPauf_LTI/AAAAAAAADZI/LbrFaeSpiHc/s1600-h/DSC01960.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R_KPauf_LTI/AAAAAAAADZI/LbrFaeSpiHc/s200/DSC01960.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184363810378427698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;with mummiiiieee&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was about lunch time so folks decided to have lunch before looking around. Supriya, who was literally managing the trip, got the directions to this highly recommended restaurant - 'Tawa'. The scene at this restaurant cannot be skipped. We indulged in some chit chat while the food arrived. The heat had left our throats dry so we ordered some Lassi to quench our thirst. I was stunned to find the Lassi bearing a string taste of Garlic. At first I thought may it was just me. But then when I saw the same puzzled look on Sajal's face, I knew something was terribly wrong with the drink. The drink eventually got replaced but to my shock the waiter very coolly explains that the mixie which had been used to blend the Lassi was recently used to grind some garlic and the chef had forgotten to clean it. Mann !! I hated this mans guts. Nevertheless, we were certain that the main course would be mmm... delicious food to feast on, since it Supriya's friend had highly recommended this place. OK!! The food arrives - Fried Rice, which I can say almost certainly - dipped in oil before leaving the kitchen; Manchurian balls made perfect to bear the taste of something burnt. Mannnn, I knew what was on fire - my head; not over the chef but this dear friend of Supriya's, who happened to drop by in the same restaurant. Any guesses??? Salonnee!! She came by to surprise me. After the food, I could not deny; could I? Perfect lunch for a nearly perfect day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R_KP_Of_LUI/AAAAAAAADZQ/sFpLyWScCao/s1600-h/DSC01970.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R_KP_Of_LUI/AAAAAAAADZQ/sFpLyWScCao/s200/DSC01970.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184364437443652930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Sajal - Before placing the order&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R_KP_ef_LVI/AAAAAAAADZY/xf9wazylckU/s1600-h/DSC01958.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R_KP_ef_LVI/AAAAAAAADZY/xf9wazylckU/s200/DSC01958.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184364441738620242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;After the 'feast'&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of the restaurant we go to hire a rickshaw to 'Bandstand'. Salonee and I in one while we allowed Sajal and Supriya to find some time together (hahaha... ironical??). Salonee looked 'even more' sweet in the green kurta and straighented hair, unrestrained, blowing in the breeze as though they were dancing about her. I wanted to capture the moment and... No. I could not. How could I when I had left my batteries to charge in the restaurant we had so desprately left 10 mins back? About Turn to the rickshaw. Thinking of it now, I am glad that it bought me some more time, which I knew then, I needed. Though not long enough - the time to take that 360 degree deviation, sometimes u learn about somethings about ppl in just a few moments. And I did too that day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We reached Bandstand aka Rock Beach (aka 'Couples' paradise', where I guess they shot the infamous - "Lage Raho" Alpenlibe ad). The water had receeded, exposing the coral reef. The algae cover made walking on the terrain a challenge. We, however, managed to make it to a point where we were inches away from the water. Time for foto shoot session ;o)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R_KQdef_LWI/AAAAAAAADZg/Jwro2mhlMy4/s1600-h/DSC01971.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R_KQdef_LWI/AAAAAAAADZg/Jwro2mhlMy4/s200/DSC01971.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184364957134695778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R_KQeuf_LXI/AAAAAAAADZo/MzdMP_vBXm4/s1600-h/DSC01976.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R_KQeuf_LXI/AAAAAAAADZo/MzdMP_vBXm4/s200/DSC01976.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184364978609532274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Liquid Gold&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R_KQfOf_LYI/AAAAAAAADZw/G-43ec3eev4/s1600-h/DSC01973.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R_KQfOf_LYI/AAAAAAAADZw/G-43ec3eev4/s200/DSC01973.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184364987199466882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Shine on em'&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the main road, folks educate me about the fact that we were eating 'bhutta' (sweet corns) standing right outside - SRK's home. Phew!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R--Q5ef_LGI/AAAAAAAADXA/As9MCLNsrA4/s1600-h/DSC01980.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 5px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R--Q5ef_LGI/AAAAAAAADXA/As9MCLNsrA4/s200/DSC01980.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183521013240900706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;SRK's home in the background &lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not know that it was the last I saw of Salonnee until got ready to leave for Juhu-Chupati. I did not have the batteries earlier, but I was still leaving with an image of her in 'my camera'.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swishhhhhhhh... Walking on the sands of Chaupati, the constant thought that bothered me was that every step I was being drawn away from here. I knew I 'had to' write this blog and it would a challenge to pen down moments of pure silence and all that happens between ppl when words aren't spoken. So, taking the easier route, I decided to fill it with a few moments - drinking 'Narial' (coconut water), sipping on Gola followed by 'garama-garam' chai - an insane mix of drinks in haf hours time ;o). Papa calls me up inquiring about where I was, reminding me of the flight's time. and it was this knowledge I was trying so hard to be ignorant about. Sajal, probably understood when he comforted me telling that I'd be over with it in bout a weeks time. The sunlight was fading; I knew - the sun was dying at the horizon and so was my hope to beat time. In a last attempt to do so, I called up dad and brought 15 mins of time. Now I had the time but no heart to let it pass yet again. We clicked some of the best pics, capturing life on busy Mumbai's busy beach busttlin with ppl, in those moments. Nothing could be spoken. Even after all that liquid, my throat went dry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R--Q5ef_LHI/AAAAAAAADXI/QJUOIA8IEWY/s1600-h/DSC01983.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 5px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R--Q5ef_LHI/AAAAAAAADXI/QJUOIA8IEWY/s200/DSC01983.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183521013240900722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Beach busttling with life&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R--Xhuf_LQI/AAAAAAAADYQ/vBd1fKFNdN0/s1600-h/DSC01987.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 5px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R--Xhuf_LQI/AAAAAAAADYQ/vBd1fKFNdN0/s200/DSC01987.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183528301800402178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Sajal - standing tall&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R--UrOf_LPI/AAAAAAAADYI/SF9yE_xWWQQ/s1600-h/DSC01988.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 5px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R--UrOf_LPI/AAAAAAAADYI/SF9yE_xWWQQ/s200/DSC01988.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183525166474276082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Supriya - happyness knows no bounds&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R--Scef_LKI/AAAAAAAADXg/NgGjNswrdDo/s1600-h/DSC01992.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 5px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R--Scef_LKI/AAAAAAAADXg/NgGjNswrdDo/s200/DSC01992.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183522714047949986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Rahul - Tired and Proud&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R--Q5uf_LII/AAAAAAAADXQ/wI0pOUiBgEw/s1600-h/DSC01985.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 5px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R--Q5uf_LII/AAAAAAAADXQ/wI0pOUiBgEw/s200/DSC01985.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183521017535868034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Teaming with Life...&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We jump into a rickshaw and move towards the airport. I committed felony - I expressed my gratitude to both Sajal and Supriya for everything they've been to me, for the beautiful relationship that transcended work. Felony - because thats what Sajal would have termed it. I guess can say I read him now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got dropped off at the airport. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night was probably the longest in the days to come. All day long I wanted to save sands of time in my fist and now I craved for a storm to blow it away and take me along. My heart felt heavy; eyes wet. So I closed them. I wished that when I opened them, it was over. But it did not. Yet another example of the relativity of time and speed. That night was the End of Days in Mumbai; not of the Time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22628222-3139544034637797134?l=outofmamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/feeds/3139544034637797134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22628222&amp;postID=3139544034637797134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/3139544034637797134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/3139544034637797134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/2008/03/mumbai-end-of-days.html' title='Mumbai Calling - End of Days (Day 3)'/><author><name>Rahul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15805325899518100781</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/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R_KPauf_LSI/AAAAAAAADZA/lftV347Aqek/s72-c/DSC01958.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22628222.post-7954645949455097454</id><published>2008-03-02T07:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T11:07:48.518-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mumbai Calling - Day 2</title><content type='html'>As I stood there, recollecting the exclamation - "its morning already!!??' it occurred to me that yesterday had passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sajal went about his work, while I toyed with the Milk Bikis and sipped the hot masala Chai. We regrouped after a lill' while to watch the games begin, some of which were coordinated by Salonee, who had turned almost a zombie by now. After a bit of chit chatting about the previous night's 'items', Sajal and I walked to the indoor games room; Table Tennis (or Ping Pong [American lingo]) ruled the house. It is hard to think that you could match the calibre of those who were smashing their way to victory. but, yeah we did get an oppurtunity to showcase our skills as well... lol.. I was playig after more than 2 years and Sajal was a beginner. But we did well, and even before we realized, we were sloshed in our sweat. I fared pretty good despite the 2 years gap, but I was more than happy to see Sajal's instant passion for the game. I say that because, everytime we finished a game and walked out, we chatted for a bit, and we would ourselves walking back to the club. This guy was addicted ! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was how most of the day passed. By the end of it we were so damn tired that it wasn't possible to deceive sleep anymore (why ?? see &lt;a href="http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/MumbaiCalling"&gt;Mumbai Calling &lt;/a&gt;). After lunch we decided to take a nap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Theres one part, the exact timing of which I can't remember quite - before or after lunch? We met this person from the Pune divison (who was playing TT with us earlier), near the lunch spot. While he shared the same pain as most s/w enggs., his humour and sarcasm amazed me; a real cool guy. I hate to have forgotten his name, but I do recall that he sang us all a very melodious song and the spot had, for an instant, transformed into a 'mehfil'. Was fun meeting that group of his. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We might have played a game or two more of TT, before the group started to pack their bags. The picnic was over and it was time to leave for Mumbai ! Sajal decided to be seated next to 'Nainsukh'. It was kinda boring to be seated alone but I managed to pull through the journey, watching the fleeting glimpses of the Sun in its orange and pink shades.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was already night when we reached FAM Society, Vashi. I was staying @ Sajal's place. Time was short - just this one night and about half a day of the next, before I left Mumbai. We freshened up and decided to go out for dinner. It was interesting to see the impeccable manner of coordination between Sajal and Supriya as they planned for the night out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hired an auto to some Mall. First thing we tried to see if we could get tickets to 'Taare Zameen Par' but 'nah' - the house was full. Next thing, we walked into Cafe Coffee Day; got settled in some cosy sofa; pondered over the menu card to choose some flavour of cofee of the so many they had, to gauge the difference between which seemed next to impossible to me. We sipped the coffee over some chit chat and we took some shots, one of which was particularly an intelligent one. Here's me and Supriya, courtesy Sajal (photographer). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R8q7a8n25mI/AAAAAAAADJI/QRqJEc94iFA/s1600-h/Onsite-Offshore.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R8q7a8n25mI/AAAAAAAADJI/QRqJEc94iFA/s400/Onsite-Offshore.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173153193612732002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then went to 'Shikara', a Saloneee's recommendation ! It was indeed a 'one of a kind' restaurant. Basically, a Shikara is a large Kashmiri house-boat. And this Shikara was no different. The guys had modelled the restaurant to give you almost the same feeling as walking down a boat house. The eating area was raised above the ground and multiple such areas were separated by narrow pathways decorated with lush green grass. The highlight of the restaurant was a mini pond decorated with colored lights and rocks on which stood real Swans !!! Mann !! I was flattered. Another thought that hit me as we sat there was that this restaurant had a group playing 'Ghazal'. It was over a decade since I had been to a restaurant playing 'Ghazals'. I was happy to be here. The recommendation was 'Perfect' !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R8rKu8n25rI/AAAAAAAADJw/xGaqVzZpyCI/s1600-h/Shikara.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R8rKu8n25rI/AAAAAAAADJw/xGaqVzZpyCI/s400/Shikara.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173170029884532402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;After we had settled and placed our order, I chose to have a ghazal dedicated. &lt;br /&gt;Just when the drinks arrived - Smrinoff for me and Chivas Regal for Sajal, the song began - "Yeh Nayan Dare Dare... Yeh Jaam Bhare Bhare" and we did the 'cheers'. Over the dinner Sajal showed us snaps of what 'his' meaning of 'having 'a' drink' was - pictures with tens of bottles of alcohol from a previous party !!! Phew, quite a capacity he has ! Everythin was perfect - the drinks, the food, the song, the ambience and the night !!! That was our team dinner :o)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R8rAYcn25nI/AAAAAAAADJQ/UryEwxl3JYM/s1600-h/Relishing+after+a+year+long+struggle+-+RTCT.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R8rAYcn25nI/AAAAAAAADJQ/UryEwxl3JYM/s400/Relishing+after+a+year+long+struggle+-+RTCT.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173158648221197938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R8rAZMn25pI/AAAAAAAADJg/E_gIqxKIooE/s1600-h/Mr.+(Sajal)+Howard+(Mukherjee),+(RTCT)+Architect.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:center; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R8rAZMn25pI/AAAAAAAADJg/E_gIqxKIooE/s400/Mr.+(Sajal)+Howard+(Mukherjee),+(RTCT)+Architect.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173158661106099858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was around 1 o' Clock in the night when we returned home. Sajal and I chatted for a bit before crashing on the bed while a song from 'Taare Zameen Par' played in the background. Lights out !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22628222-7954645949455097454?l=outofmamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/feeds/7954645949455097454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22628222&amp;postID=7954645949455097454' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/7954645949455097454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/7954645949455097454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/2008/03/mumbai-calling-day-2.html' title='Mumbai Calling - Day 2'/><author><name>Rahul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15805325899518100781</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/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R8q7a8n25mI/AAAAAAAADJI/QRqJEc94iFA/s72-c/Onsite-Offshore.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22628222.post-3475031333640960098</id><published>2007-12-27T22:39:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T21:16:56.837-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mumbai calling !!</title><content type='html'>This blog is the "Mahabharat" amongst all my blogs till dates, getting created in parts as each weekend passes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21 days is how long I have waited to write this ! Believe me when you want something so desperately, every second seems like a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Day 1 - 21st Dec&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Salaam Bollywood:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A perennial problem with me, I understand him only after days and hours of what he communicates to me in crystal clear English : I wanna back out of this entire picnic thing and spend quality time with both of them. But he just "hates" to see me comfortable (read that line again Papa Bear). However, he thinks he is a man of his word and does not like to call it quits just anyways (and wont let me either). I have no other choice - gotta join John on the road trip. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My train to Mumbai is delayed by over 3 hours. The bus to the picnic resort leaves at 4:00 pm sharp. There's no way in hell I can make it to L&amp;T Mahape before 5:00 pm.&lt;br /&gt;I arrive @ Bandra at 2:30 PM. Move swiftly to Vile Parle station by 2:50 PM. Standing in the queue for the tickets, I am debating whether Taxi would be an easier option compared to switching trains. The next man in the queue confirms my stupid and unnecessary worry by offering to help me reach Vashi in around 1.5 hours (by train of course). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am in the local train going to Wadala and thanks to John - despite spending over 200 bucks in roaming charges, I am not even certain if the bus will wait. Finally, as I change trains for Vashi, I get 'Road Roller' Rani(not my fault, she prefers it this way. Ok, I will try not to be rude, will use the term 'Roadie' for the reminder of this post) to arrange for one bus to wait. Heres the bollywood climax scene you are welcome to imagine - Last minute plans' changed, I am goin' to Jui Nagar station instead of Vashi. Jui Nagar station runs parallel to the roadway that eventually joins the expressway to Pune. I make it to the station at 4:18 PM and am already running towards the exit to cross the road by 4:25 PM. Just when I make it to the other side of the crossing, a white bus, with Roadie hanging outta the main door, halts in front of moa. I made it !!! (After all I had to. How could I ever let down the rich heritage of Bollywood movie endings) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Curse and joy:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Am in the bus" and am cursing John all the way till we reached the resort for the next hour for having actually boarded the bus without me in it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In retrospect, there could not be a better sight than to see both "mummiiee" and "papa" bear after a year of separation. Roadie got busy with the songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Camp @ Durksheth Resort:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just what the two of us hated began as soon as we reached the picnic spot - the weird and crappy ways of IT managers attempting to mobilise ppl. Since it aint very interesting lets skip it and get transported to the part where everyone was off on a treasure hunt. John and I, while physically seeming to search for the clues to the treasure, were engaged in our own meta physical conversation. The hunt seemed to go on forever, but it was fun to be walking through a jungle of sorts in the dark, flashing your torches looking for the way out (reminiscent of what happens in IT, if you can figure that out). Though the hunt was exhausting, I could walk forever (in mind) and here was Papa Bear, who was sweating as if he'd just walked outta the shower. After about an hour or so, just when we were about to reach the base, we caught glimpse of this man reading under the lamp. I have no words to describe the awe I felt at that moment. Thanks to John's camera, the photographer me, was able to capture this sight:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R5HvEpkhydI/AAAAAAAADGA/QyQrc82-KcM/s1600-h/1221_204122.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R5HvEpkhydI/AAAAAAAADGA/QyQrc82-KcM/s320/1221_204122.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157165911473506770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back at the base, food and liquor started flowing and John and I laughed our stomachs out literally, watching the funny little acts ppl put after dissolving their minds in the glasses they held. While some genuine and others fake, ppl were all praises for the exceptional work we had done on our previous project over the past year. It was kinda difficult reading the minds of these bunch of wanna Be's as I saw them using the project manager lingo in wholesale - 'u did a great job', 'we really appreciate you', 'u deserve it'... and the likes of it. A sense of pity remained in me as I saw them perform their act. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was certain that we weren't in for sleeping that night; after couple hours of loose talk, John, I , The 'Analyst' Mummiiee and couple of their friends decided to explore the sight around the resort. So we walked. We climbed down the steps carved out of rock and mud, walking deep into the darkness and slowly losing the sense of light. But once we had walked deep enough there was light - an insignificant but cool light - from the moon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we crossed the gates that formed the boundary of the resort property, we were entering uncharted territories - a vast expanse of land lay in front of us and our only companions were the trees rendered lifeless by the night, coupled with a mystical air around them; the buzzing of the infinite creatures in the woods and the occasional croaking of frogs. After having walked quite a distance, when we looked up at the sky we were speechless. The clouds seemed to form a progression transforming into a wave which was about to hit us; and from behind it the Moon shone slyly as if watching us closely. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There a tiny lake surrounding the resort and John and I were bent upon the idea of crossing the lake to step over the other side. While the rest decided to call it quits after a bit, we persisted. We walked, gauging the right directions, retracking our steps sometimes, measuring our steps as we neared the section of the lake which was the narrowest. And we did make it... just one step on the other side; we stood there celebrating the accomplishment. It was not long before we decided to turn back; getting conscious of whatever dangers lurked in the dark (and recalling one of the tenets of one of our clients - 'If it ain't safe, it ain't worth doing' or something like that). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sad part, as I would crib, was that I could not use my camera then and John would step in with a quip - 'You have a camera; use it' (He meant my mind with my eyes taking the place of the lens). In retrospect, I don't regret it so much. Why? I searched the internet long to find pictures of the thick woods, the night sky, the moon and the clouds and but none were quite the picture I still see in my 'camera' when I close the shutters. If the following picture are to be treated as anything close to the real ones then my dear reader, you are invited to feed them your imagination engine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R5IGKZkhygI/AAAAAAAADGY/ynh8fuMLbJk/s1600-h/clouds14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:left;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R5IGKZkhygI/AAAAAAAADGY/ynh8fuMLbJk/s320/clouds14.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157191299025193474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R5IGKpkhyhI/AAAAAAAADGg/tcoHQr3Y9z8/s1600-h/caab34030.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:right;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R5IGKpkhyhI/AAAAAAAADGg/tcoHQr3Y9z8/s320/caab34030.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157191303320160786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One exploration done, we walked back to rest for a while. At this point, the images in my head are a bit scrambled so my narration could be flawed in the sequencing but not by content. I think we had dinner and then grouped to chat for a bit in a small circle of sorts. It was when Roadie joined as that I thought it best to share the souvenirs from my trip this past year. Of all the wordily things I think the group loved the chocolates the most. Atleast I know John did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a while we decided to take a shot at exploration part 2. We simply walked down the route we arrived at the resort, walking to the main road and then back. It was here that I found a few moments to talk to Roadie. It wasn't as if we spoke of anything extra-ordinary but then those very 'few moments' were special. Things had changed in the past year so as they say - sometime its best to keep certain emotions unexpressed. I came to understand Roadie a bit more. At that moment, nothing mattered to me more than the moment itself. I was glad beyond words. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next best thing was the game of Dumb-Charades we played. Starting off with a few simple movies, I cannot recall how the players took on to think of the "tough" movies and even better - act them out. Mummiiee, as usual, was splendid - knocked each one out and conspired the most cruel movie names. I was rolling with joy when I managed to give hiccups to John for one movie.. what was the name?? Mann... here goes off my memory switch... hmmm yeah - "Shubhkamna" (meaning - Best Wishes);o). The part I cannot forget is the look in his gleaming eyes, which shone with wonder and contempt together. Boy we had fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clock ticked away the time and it was around 5 in the morning when we decided to return to the marshy land around the lake to catch the first rays of the sun. Little did we expect the total lack of light down there. It was as if a black hole existed somewhere there and engulfed all light. The darkness combined with the silence was a killer. We had barely walked a few steps beyond the gate when our imaginations got the better of us. For a single moment we all felt there was some movement around the bushes but could not describe what 'it' was. John was quick to observe that Mummiiee, for once, was capable of fear. Just when the surroundings felt familiar and the sense of light returned, I turned my head to face the sky. _________________ I cannot fill that blank simply because my vocabulary fails me from describing the picture of the sky dazzling with a million stars. It was a moment. You could feel the isolation amongst a crowd and still be content with the mere existence of the stars up there; easily struck by the realization of being an insignificance bit in this limitless universe. Did I just describe it?? ;o) This should help you picture:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R5tlGm1K5MI/AAAAAAAADHk/rhvXvDGAlJs/s1600-h/4233-night-sky-at-25-degree.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R5tlGm1K5MI/AAAAAAAADHk/rhvXvDGAlJs/s400/4233-night-sky-at-25-degree.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159828962260214978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked back a bit and then waited for dawn to break the silence; to see the first rays that will add color to the picture. We must have waited for about half hour or so when it seemed that the sky had started to switch colors to a heavy shade of bluish gray; beginning to outline the huge mountains surrounding the lake and the vast stretches of mist. The trees that lay ahead of us, painted in fine black print against the serene background, stood there to show each of its branches distinctly. &lt;br /&gt;As we continued gazing at the horizon, some painter kept playing with the shades up there in the skies. Light, it seemed would fill this place any moment, but not quite, it would do it bit by bit. And time seemed to couple to these bits cos it moved ever so slowly. And just when you would think that it was slow, the shades would have moved on to amaze you just again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rise of an eagle up there in the sky which reminded John of his mom. I learned more about John and the sweet emotional intimacy he shared with his mom. It was plain joy to hear him out, which is seldom. We heard the first croaks of a frog, the swift yet graceful flight of a dove, the chirpping of the sparrows who were now flocking the trees and then taking off in the skies. I wished to stop there, not move, not even to return back, just stay there as long as I could and... and paint (not my forte, but I 'wished'). I discovered John too liked to create pencil sketches. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The vast expanse up there had turned to shades of peaches with the orange trying to fight the red and the yellow to come out alive. We tried to 'estimate' the exact spot from where the sun would rise. But there was time, so we walked a bit to walk around the heaven, which the place was for that moment. After a bit we decided to return cos John had certain compulsions which I better not want to describe here. While John attended to his errands, I kept a close watch for the sun which was hiding behind the rocks. For a moment I looked at the people waking up and exclaiming - 'its morning already!!??', I smiled. When I turned, my joy knew no bounds - the sun did rise from the exact spot I had marked. Hurray !! Sometimes, you find it hard to believe when things happen as you expect them to happen, cos most of the time life seems to work the other way around. As I stood there, recollecting the exclamation - "its morning already!!??' it occurred to me that yesterday had passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Players&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John, PapaBear &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;: Sajal&lt;br /&gt;Mummiee &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;: Supriya&lt;br /&gt;'Road Roller' Rani &amp;nbsp;: Salonee&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22628222-3475031333640960098?l=outofmamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/feeds/3475031333640960098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22628222&amp;postID=3475031333640960098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/3475031333640960098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/3475031333640960098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/2007/12/mumbai-calling.html' title='Mumbai calling !!'/><author><name>Rahul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15805325899518100781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/R5HvEpkhydI/AAAAAAAADGA/QyQrc82-KcM/s72-c/1221_204122.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22628222.post-8793920240153520181</id><published>2007-12-23T12:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T23:31:32.629-06:00</updated><title type='text'>i Meeting Me after One Year</title><content type='html'>Mike, Here's me fulfilling your request for this blog. I would have done it even anyways ;o) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have returned home from a year of deputation in the USA just 2 weeks back. First thoughts - shocked to see Chennai in more or less the same state as last year, scared to see an overwhelming number of people standing outside the airport at 3.00 AM for their relatives and friends. They must be no different from my parents and friend who were waiting to receive me; its just that I had not seen so many people crowded in one place at a time for a long time now. I spent the next couple days comparing and contrasting India with the USA and feeling pity for the state of affairs in India - infrastructure, attitude of people, education system etc. However, I did see something more which I had not while I lived in this country for the past 23 years - the size of the market here. Its unimaginably BIG and I like to word it as this - "America is a land of opportunities; India is a land of possibilities." I have become conscious of the relevance of the Indian story in the world market only this recently. Another thought - India is a massive project. Hypothetically, if we could take away half of its population, providing infrastructure would not be so difficult. Now a reality check, India is growing at an alarming pace. So I am happy to see India where it stands today and the heights it can grow to. India's population is both its strength as well as weakness; things will improve with time. First change - my perception of India :o) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first week was focused on shopping for my attire; visiting office and meeting couple friends there. I was also packing for my mini vacation to Delhi, Jodhpur and Mumbai. the objectives were clearly 2 - visit my grandmom in Jodhpur; meet Sajal; Supriya and Salonee in Mumbai. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom and I travelled to Delhi by train. I was interested in the train because i wanted to experience a long train travel once again. It was a 2 night , 1 day journey and we reached there on a Monday morning. My jeeju (brother-in-law) was there at the station to receive us. We took a cycle rickshaw to their home in Chawri Bazaar - one of the busiest market places in old Delhi city. Maya didi, my sister made us some delicious "baajre ki kheech" - traditonal Rajasthani food, for lunch. It was the most fulfilling lunch I had in these past 2 weeks. We then set out for some shopping in the evening. We had taken the Metro rail which transported us to Cannaught Places and Palika Bazaar in less than 7 mins. The shopping wasn't all that great; did not find anything as such that caught my eyes. The air in Delhi was "cold" and "heavy" - that's the best I can describe to differentiate it from the cold weather in Houston city during the last month. I developed a bad stomach ache, terrible cold, an irritating throat and a slight headache by next morning. We, however, pursued with our shopping mission and satisfied my taste buds feasting on the Chole Bature, Paneer Tikka, Paneer Pakodas and Pani Puris. As day approached its end, I spent some funny moments with my nephew Monu and jeejaji mimicking a few actors and a Nepali gurkha's characters. We laughed our tummies out reminding me of college days. Dinner happened, a group photo followed and the next thing was our movement to the railway station to board our train to Jodhpur. Things I picked from Delhi - a leather jacket, a t-shirt and a pair of sandals, souvenirs for mom and dad in the US.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday morning around 10.30 AM we reached Jodhpur in Rajasthan. After a brief stay at my aunt's where we freshened up, Mom and I decided to visit few relatives and friends. It was evening by the time we made it to my Grandmom's place. My granny is over 82 years and live by herself. It was on Diwali that I had promised her that I would definitely visit her this year. I was meeting her after 7 years. We crossed the gates to her home, and as the neighbours caught sight of us and engaged us in a chit chat, grandma came out to see her visitors. She was taken aback with disbelief to see me. After the initial tears, hugs we settled for some nice hot dinner. My condition worsened by the minute and within me mercury was rising. Granny massaged my hair and telling me how I had come to visit her for just one night and had fallen sick on the same day. The night was difficult, I could barely sleep. In the morning, I visited the local doctor and got myself examined; picked up a few medicines at the pharmacy and we then moved to my parent's bunglow in Kamala Nehru Nagar. As I walked through its doors, I could recall how dad and mom had been planning to move out of Chennai into this home for years now. I know they are waiting for the marriage of my brother and I. We then moved back to my aunt's place and I was a sick man there with all my cousins playing visitors to the patient. The day was moving slowly so a couple hours nap helped me catalyse the day to a quicker end. Some more photos followed; we packed our bags and moved to the station to board our train to the next stop - Mumbai !!!!! (My only prayers were to get well before I reach Mumbai)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Mumbai story will go out as a separate blog but for continuities sake, the train to Mumbai was late by 3 hours and it did its part in giving the Mumbai story a Bollywoodish feel ;o) For now, all I have to say is that the 2 days spent in Mumbai were the most memorable part of this entire journey; packed with millions of images which are registered in my cranium and will continue to stay there lest I meet Alzheimer's. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I returned home to Chennai on Sunday the 23rd. This time is to spend with family. I have experienced a difference in how Guddu (my nephew) and I have been communicating with each other since my return. We seemed to have developed a special bond. You would think its because of the myriad of gifts I got him, but theres more to it. I can sense it in his eyes and voice when he bends his head sideways; blinks his eyes and tells me innocently that he missed me all this while and wants to be with no one else but me. He wants to sleep by my side at night, play with me during the day; eat his lunches and dinners with me. All this is probably due to the difference in how we communicate with each other compared to other members of the household. When we talk, we talk like 2 grown ups or like 2 friends and that helps us understanding each other better. On the not so brighter side, I am continuously being accused of pampering the kid too much and spoiling him. Well, thats just the way its been at home, but am sure that'll change too. Dad and mom have been firing at me for my forgetfulness but have kudos for me when in front of family and friends; elder bro is hopeful of me developing my career in the US; cute lill' Pari does not recognize me yet - a silent baby unlike her elder bro. Bhabhi (sister in law) is happy to see a not so kiddish me and likes the idea of me learning to live independently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just before the flight from Paris landed in Chennai, it occurred to me that I had spent close to a year and a half away from home. What just happened? The past year was tough - 16-18 hour work days and sleepless nights; balancing everyones expectations except mine; turning into a cast away for the rest of the world; staying away from family and friends, not being able to spend time with Guddu. However, I saw some of the most marvellous things happen to me - living in Alaska; finding new parents in the US; working with a client who was so helpful and supportive; moving to Houston; living with Yash and Subbu and learning different facets of life from their individual and unique experiences; a chance to be with Andy once again; finding new friends in Aashish, Hussain, Nirmal and others; earning respect and accolades from my various customers as well as my team - Sajal and Supriya. As Yash would say - "There are trade-offs in everything you do in life; you will have pros and cons to everything you do in life". It felt as if life just completed a full circle and I had seen both darkness and light on the way. Like Mike says - "If it does not kill you; It only makes you stronger". I survived. Now I am conscious of my potential and looking forward to this new year with renewed energy. Only this time I will wait for and board the BUS ;o) Thats for you Sajal! Thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22628222-8793920240153520181?l=outofmamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/feeds/8793920240153520181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22628222&amp;postID=8793920240153520181' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/8793920240153520181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/8793920240153520181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-meeting-me-after-one-year.html' title='i Meeting Me after One Year'/><author><name>Rahul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15805325899518100781</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-22628222.post-7606294882040006925</id><published>2007-08-28T11:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T12:34:37.972-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Special Sambar</title><content type='html'>This is soooo unlike me ! I have never felt comfortable writing on a topic given. All my blogs barring one have been on an impulse. And this is the other blog where I had planned it before publishing it. In fact this was not even supposed to be a blog. I have been attending Communication Training sessions for the past two weeks, and as a part of the weekend exercise, we were given the task of writing a skit. I wasn't comfortable writing it but still I was enjoying it. In the end, I am really excited about my first stint at writing out a short story of sorts. What follows is the script of the skit. &lt;hr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sunday Special Sambar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Characters:&lt;/strong&gt; Salt, Chilly, Tamarind, Goddess Annapurna and Narrator&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Narrator:&lt;/strong&gt; Its a bright Sunday morning and Rinchi patti prepares for a great South Indian breakfast of Sambar Idli for the Nair household. The vegetables are chopped, the lentils are boiled. For the perfectionist she is, she is used to having all ingredients by her side before beginning the preparation. She had barely got 3 spices out of the shelf - salt, chilly and tamarind when the phone rang to life. What follows is a short conversation between these three spices before they join the veggies, and the lentils into making that perfect Sambar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Salt:&lt;/strong&gt; I wonder if it weren’t for me what good would this Sambhar be? I am the king seasoning without which no food will be worth eating.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chilly:&lt;/strong&gt; Huh!! that is nonsense. I am the strongest of all. Indian foods is incomplete without me. Besides, without me Sambhar cannot claim its rightful taste. Don’t ever forget that they always call it Hot Indian Sambhar. Ha… Ha… Stupid Salt!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tamarind:&lt;/strong&gt; What is it that you two are boasting of? You are so common and unimportant; there’s hardly anything special about the taste or flavor you add. People crave for Sambhar because of the tangy flavor I give to it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Salt:&lt;/strong&gt; It’s your ignorance that you remain illiterate about my properties and uses. I help in regulating the water content throughout the human body. My Calcium part strengthens bones and improves blood sugar, thus helping to reduce the signs of aging. And if you dint know, I also support the libido. Ha… Ha… Ha… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chilli:&lt;/strong&gt; My guess is that you forgot to mention, your excessive presence can also take a man’s life because of hyper tension. Ha… Ha… Ha… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talk of benefits and I will tell you what it means - I am excellent anticoagulant and aid in preventing heart attack or stroke. I increase the body metabolism and help in weight loss. A tea which contains me can help in clearing nose congestion and fighting cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tamarind:&lt;/strong&gt; And Chilli, my friend, looks like you also contribute is keeping people’s head HOT all the time!! It is I who helps in reducing body temperature and find best use when treating fever. And if you dint know, let me educate you on the fact that I have one of the highest levels of protein and carbohydrates in me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Salt:&lt;/strong&gt; So what’s the big deal with all that the two of you have talked so far? I am the most versatile amongst us. I am an excellent preservative and no food can sustain without my presence. Add me to the water, and I can bring it to boil at a higher temperature, thus reducing cooking time significantly. And on the other hand, I can slow down the melting process if you sprinkle me over Ice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chilly:&lt;/strong&gt; You might want to redefine versatility after you have heard me speak. It’s a long and old tradition to powder me and place inside socks for those who are prone to cold feet. I am also an important rubifacient, which means - I cause an increased circulation to localized sites. Thus I find great use in arthritis creams. I contribute socially also. Rogues have forgotten the 2 words – Eve Teasing because of me. It’s needless to say - without me, pepper sprays wouldn’t be possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tamarind:&lt;/strong&gt; I can stupefy all you claim by what I am going to reveal to you now. When I am ripe, I am an excellent laxative (prevent constipation). My seeds, when crushed and mixed with water, are used to starch clothes. When mixed with water and salt, my pulp can be used to polish brass, copper and even silver.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Narrator:&lt;/strong&gt; While these three spices jabber and fight it out, they have no clue who is watching them. It was none other that Goddess Annapurna – the goddess of food and aroma. She had heard the entire conversation and decides to impart knowledge to the 3 spices.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Goddess Annapurna:&lt;/strong&gt; So which of you is the best?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Narrator:&lt;/strong&gt; And they go out screaming almost in unison:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Salt:&lt;/strong&gt; ME!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chilly:&lt;/strong&gt; ME!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tamarind:&lt;/strong&gt;  ME!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Goddess Annapurna:&lt;/strong&gt; Alright, I believe you. In fact, all three of you are worthy of holding that title just like any other spice which I have given birth to. All you of hold equal rights to that title or none at all. While you remembered your good qualities, you conveniently forgot your damaging properties.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Salt, do you realize that your excessive presence in the Sambhar can turn the entire preparation sour and ruin the taste of the dish as well as that of the person eating it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Chilly, you are present in a quantity more than required; you can set the person’s tongue on fire. And he will end up drinking so much water that he will have no stomach for any more Sambar.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tamarind, while you impart an uncommon taste, your abundance in the Sambhar will make it so unusual that people will not term it Sambhar any more.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Narrator:&lt;/strong&gt; As the goddess spoke, the 3 spices realized the importance of her wise words.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Goddess Annapurna:&lt;/strong&gt; Remember it is not the individual spice that the people crave for. It is the combination of all your flavors that people relish. You can do justice to your individual flavors only when you have learnt to blend with each other’s to bring out that authentic taste of the famous South Indian Sambhar. Having said that I am sure you now understand your responsibilities.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Narrator:&lt;/strong&gt; The 3 spices had learnt an invaluable lesson today. They pledged that they will give Rinchi patti her best Sambhar today; the Nair household will have their most delicious Sambar ever cooked in the history of South Indian Cooking.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That day, true to their words, the Nair household had their best ever Sambar and the entire family was complaining for more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Credits&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;----------&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Concept &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;:&lt;/strong&gt; Vishaal Janardhan a.k.a Bal HANUMAAN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Script &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;:&lt;/strong&gt; Rahul Bhansali&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Motivation :&lt;/strong&gt; Yashvir Karki&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22628222-7606294882040006925?l=outofmamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/feeds/7606294882040006925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22628222&amp;postID=7606294882040006925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/7606294882040006925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/7606294882040006925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/2007/08/sunday-special-sambar.html' title='Sunday Special Sambar'/><author><name>Rahul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15805325899518100781</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-22628222.post-2044486093431975533</id><published>2007-08-10T22:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-10T22:31:03.453-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shine on Em'</title><content type='html'>Song   : Shine on Em'&lt;br /&gt;Artist : Nas&lt;br /&gt;Link   : &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_fFfFSX-D9w"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_fFfFSX-D9w&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{*Man Singing &amp; Humming in Foreign Language*}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Intro: Nas]&lt;br /&gt;They wanna shine on 'em&lt;br /&gt;Shine on 'em &lt;-- 7X&lt;br /&gt;Yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Verse 1: Nas]&lt;br /&gt;They dug me out the soil in the Mines of the Motherland&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm misplaced, one hand to another hand&lt;br /&gt;Illegal smugglin', people strugglin'&lt;br /&gt;Wish they could just throw me back in the mud again&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, guess that's how we got here&lt;br /&gt;Slave Trade then the Diamond Trade&lt;br /&gt;Every child's afraid&lt;br /&gt;When his Mother and Father get sprayed&lt;br /&gt;Forced in the Army, young killer Brigade&lt;br /&gt;Gets a new name and then he give his nose glue&lt;br /&gt;Til' his mind can't take what he's gon' through&lt;br /&gt;Lookin' in that dirt for that ice so blue&lt;br /&gt;Then The Royal Family, the ice goes to&lt;br /&gt;And this thing has to change, feelin' half-ashamed&lt;br /&gt;As I rap with my Platinum chain&lt;br /&gt;When you shop for a gift for me&lt;br /&gt;You think about the misery?&lt;br /&gt;The same way we made Apartheid History&lt;br /&gt;We can do the same thing to the conflict ice&lt;br /&gt;But everybody wanna shine, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[HooK: Nas]&lt;br /&gt;Everybody wants Heaven but nobody wants dead&lt;br /&gt;Everybody wants Diamonds without the Bloodshed&lt;br /&gt;Everybody wants Heaven but nobody wants dead&lt;br /&gt;Everybody wants Diamonds without the Bloodshed&lt;br /&gt;They wanna Shine on 'em&lt;br /&gt;Shine on 'em &lt;-- 7X&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Verse 2: Nas]&lt;br /&gt;My VVS glimmers on my chest&lt;br /&gt;200-thou-encrusted watch on my wrist&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how people starve to death&lt;br /&gt;When God bless the land that lacks the harvest&lt;br /&gt;The stone's equality, but they homes are poverty&lt;br /&gt;And the whole world ignores the robbery&lt;br /&gt;Bought my girl pretty rocks when she's mad at me&lt;br /&gt;Tear-drop shaped, uh, perfect Clarity&lt;br /&gt;It shocks, so many are killed annually&lt;br /&gt;'Cause of greed, lust, and pure Vanity&lt;br /&gt;Stop talkin' and do somethin' about it&lt;br /&gt;Every Holiday Season, Jewelry stores crowded&lt;br /&gt;Kids snatched from their homes, Mutilated alive&lt;br /&gt;Husbands separated from wives, keep a Jesus piece to be fly&lt;br /&gt;But back in the day there was a time when they called us shine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[HooK: Nas]&lt;br /&gt;Everybody wants Heaven but nobody wants dead&lt;br /&gt;Everybody wants Diamonds without the Bloodshed&lt;br /&gt;Everybody wants Heaven but nobody wants dead&lt;br /&gt;Everybody wants Diamonds without the Bloodshed&lt;br /&gt;They wanna shine on 'em&lt;br /&gt;Shine on 'em &lt;-- 7X&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{*Man Singing &amp; Humming in Foreign Language*}&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22628222-2044486093431975533?l=outofmamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/feeds/2044486093431975533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22628222&amp;postID=2044486093431975533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/2044486093431975533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/2044486093431975533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/2007/08/shine-on-em.html' title='Shine on Em&apos;'/><author><name>Rahul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15805325899518100781</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-22628222.post-1769071309699355383</id><published>2007-07-04T04:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T06:18:58.205-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Real or Ideal - Crisis??</title><content type='html'>Did not think I will return to blogging with a topic as this. But I am thinking that if this did light a bulb in my head and pumped enough blood in my systems to make my fingers type this one out as a blog; then this will probably be best summarisation of what my mind has been thinking for the past 'I donno how many months'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A recap to trace what 'probably' triggered such a thought process...  I was a happy student when I got to know that I got a job in my first inerview. Frustrated when was on bench (as they call it in my profession - for being without work) for about a year. Excited when I got my first project. Tired and Frustrated with the way the Project was carried out. Relaxed and felt a sense of significant contribution when I completed my first project. Happy and hopeful when I started out on my second project. (Tired, frustrated and Demotivated) as well as (Motivated and Proud) at different times during the course of that project depending on either failing to change what I thought was  incorrect around me or when I did make a difference by the work I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am amazed at how the world can have these two kinds of people co-exist - the idealist  and the realist. I think I began as a an idealist and am finding it very difficult to make the right choice of adjective to what explains my current state - 'matured or corrupted'. Matured - indicative of the part of me which is content that I have 'finally' got the sense to 'understand' the real world and fit myself in that. Corrupted - indicative of the guilt in me for having failed the idealist and perfectionist in me; dancing to the tunes of the world around me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I do realise that while I 'think' that I will be able to settle down to any one of these position, I 'probably' might never be able to. I am not sure if that is the way we were designed to be or its a malfunction in with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little while back I was having a conversation with a friend about the makers of fastest car in the world - Koenigsegg and contrasted that with Toyota which is now the world's largest manufacturer of automobiles. Both are achievers. One is the at the pinnacle of design, creativity and out there to challenge the kinetics while the other is setting precedent in the business of mass scale automobile manufacturing influencing a significant percentage of the world's population. This I think of :apple or microsoft ;  a.r rahman or himesh reshammiya and the likes. Simply stating a choice between 'perfectionist' and 'popular'. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't think of any logic which can explain the irony in us being always taught to be ideal but end up 'realizing' the need of being real. ( You will know what I mean if you recall what u learnt in school and then try to apply them in your everyday life today. )  The idealists hang in there come what may, don't care about the benefits/loss they will reap cos the satisfaction they derive out of their creativity is more addictive than the scent of money/fame. These will eventually come to them. To make a choice as theirs is difficult not because its difficult but because more than half of the world thinks its difficult. So what should a person, in pursuit of building the world's fastest car, be treated as - guilty or smart, for lowering the bar he set for himself in begginning and raise it in a totally different area which allows him to sustain and manufacture stuff which sells? Is it smart/wrong to take the practical/easy way and think of survival than accomplishing what you thought was your belief to be done as 'right'?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone goes through this period and 'seemingly' settles down into either categories of ppl. And thats what amazes me bout the way world works - a quite set of ppl who disprove all notions/fears of the greater majority of ppl and then have this greater majority of ppl who 'know' that they understand the way world works and plan every steps around this fact, with the aim of surviving and enjoying the simple pleasures of life. The world continues to exist with these 2 kinds of people and I wonder if ever a question is asked to either of them "Do you know what you seek in life?" that they both know the answers - Koenigsegg as well as Toyota. As for ppl like me, heres how it probably looks like :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many emotions/questions/confusion within my self; so much that I wished 'should happen'; so much that I actually 'made happen'. The idealist in me seeking to solved this riddle; the realist in me wanting to 'finally' complete this long pending blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a different person from the start of this journey to where I stand now. May sound cliched but seldom do people realize, that with every single passing day, they can sense having discovered that one more hidden thing about themselves and be conscious of a yet another  change in thier 'self', in response to the knowledge of that realization which is asking them this question again and again : Ideal or Real; having to decide to go either ways every single time.  I did; am still doing. Will I  be continuing this way?? Haven't got the slightest cue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you figured it out yet ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22628222-1769071309699355383?l=outofmamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/feeds/1769071309699355383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22628222&amp;postID=1769071309699355383' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/1769071309699355383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/1769071309699355383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/2007/07/real-or-ideal-crisis.html' title='Real or Ideal - Crisis??'/><author><name>Rahul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15805325899518100781</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-22628222.post-7183352659508933550</id><published>2007-03-17T18:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-18T04:30:31.158-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally !!! Achieved Levitation !!</title><content type='html'>I am writing this blog under a heavy influence of alochol and so u are herewith forewarned of the many many spelling mistakes u will come across.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess you must be intelligent enough to figure out what this blog is gonna be about. Yes, this is about me expressing how I feel when I am drunk (as I write each and every word, I am trying hard not to make any spellig mistakes. See the perfectionist in me is still awake, somehow).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I feel this very instant ?? As if I have got a pair of invisible wings and am flying... feel so very light... the 2 sides of my head seemed to have been blocked by stop corks (the ones we used in chemistry labs) and as if my head is separated from the rest of my body, as if my eyes are popping out. I feel there are 2 ppl living in my body right now... one of them is asking me to stay awake and complete the office work (and complete this blog)... the other is telling me to dance around and make a fool of myself and let everybody around me know that I am trying hard but no matter how hard, am not able to control myself from dozing off..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how did I end up getting drunk ? You must not be believing me.. right.. I mean.. how is it possible that Rahul got drunk?? trust me.. it wasn't planned at all.. while chopping onions for our lunch, Anand Dubey (my landlord kept offering me Saki or Sake' - Japanese rice wine - 18% alcohol; I think 3 pegs.) and there I was climbing the stairs to heaven with each shot I took.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/RfyoZ5OV-vI/AAAAAAAAAgA/RkVfUt2YENk/s1600-h/saki.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043090845559290610" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/RfyoZ5OV-vI/AAAAAAAAAgA/RkVfUt2YENk/s320/saki.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember having asked him 2 days back as to how do you reach the stage of "intoxication" and he told me that u just need to drink a little more than the "just one peg that I was restricting myself to and then the most important thing - company."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After about 10 mins the bulb just went blank in my head in that instant I realized that I have reached the "near perfect state of mind". I tried hard to go and concentrate on my work, but too bad after about 10 mins , my eyebrows felt heavier and heavier and then a bulb (of a different kind) light and a voice within me told that yes, I am not in control of myself and i need to stop. That I need to sleep and then resume my work when I am awake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am currently having the "asli" Dal Makhni (in the words of Anand), and rice. Probably the "best-est" food I ever had since my arrival in Anchorage. In fact the best ever Dal Makhni in my life. Somehow I fee that as I am writing this blog, I am probably not going into the state of sleeping and relaxing myself. Hence, I guess, I will relish the second round of my delicious food and then go ahead and sleep for about 2 hours before resuming work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do not forget to congratulate me if I was able to complete this blog without any spelling mistakes ;o)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22628222-7183352659508933550?l=outofmamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/feeds/7183352659508933550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22628222&amp;postID=7183352659508933550' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/7183352659508933550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/7183352659508933550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/2007/03/finally-achieved-levitation.html' title='Finally !!! Achieved Levitation !!'/><author><name>Rahul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15805325899518100781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqtqb4eP4fY/RfyoZ5OV-vI/AAAAAAAAAgA/RkVfUt2YENk/s72-c/saki.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22628222.post-2714551144408493782</id><published>2007-03-11T00:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-11T10:27:17.953-05:00</updated><title type='text'>To sense the pleasure again</title><content type='html'>I have been the lazy me for sometime now and I reached the brim for the part of me which gets &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;saturated&lt;/span&gt; very soon. So call it back to square one or completing a circle, I finally felt like penning down something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even as I 'feel' that I 'want' to write, I haven't figured out which emotion in me should take &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;precedence&lt;/span&gt;. Its been over 2 and half months here in Anchorage now and I will be moving to a new home tomorrow. My current state is - tired, groaning in pain cos of the ache in my neck and head(ironing 2 weeks clothes, washing utensils, packing my bags - of which neither is complete yet) , and crazy enough to just stop &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;everything&lt;/span&gt; around me and write this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole thought of worting a blog was triggered when friend &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;a href="http://frostatmidnite.blogspot.com"&gt;frostatmidnite&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; scrapped me and was like 'u haven't blogged' for sometime now. I kept telling myself that I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;shud&lt;/span&gt; write and its already over 2 weeks since then. I began feeling that I am probably lying to myself and may be I do not feel that pleasure of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;writing&lt;/span&gt; anymore within me which is why I was talking so long to pull myself together. Its hard to describe, but its kinda like that emotion within you which gives you that last boost of will to fight just when u felt that u have lost it all and then u rise from dust.&lt;br /&gt;I am already enjoying seeing these words form this blog of mine and sense the very same pleasure which I felt when I wrote my heart out in my previous blogs. This blog is still a mixture of many things which I wanted to blog about but did not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cud make this blog about my current project and all the ups and downs I have been through; or my stay in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Vashi&lt;/span&gt; (for the project &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;of course&lt;/span&gt;) where I made some of my dearest friends whom I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;limitlessly&lt;/span&gt; adore; or I cud express the changes I have felt within myself over the duration of my current project in which I started out as a team member and am currently playing the role of an on-site co-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ordinator&lt;/span&gt;. But I may not not be able to write them out here cos it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;aint&lt;/span&gt;' right to write bout professional stuff out in the public domain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I think that I could write about the bumpiest ride I had trying to reach Anchorage. Lemme put it in short cos I can't resist : I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;travelled&lt;/span&gt; from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;chennai&lt;/span&gt; to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;frankfurt&lt;/span&gt; to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;denver&lt;/span&gt; (over night stay) to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;seattle&lt;/span&gt; (over &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;night&lt;/span&gt; stay) to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Jeanu&lt;/span&gt; to some three other stops (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;kenai&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Petersburg&lt;/span&gt; i guess am not sure of their names now) and then finally to Anchorage after travelling for 4 days instead of 2 days and visiting 6 location in the transit instead of 2. There a lot that happened in that travel time, but I guess will have that as a separate post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next thing that hits my mind is probably the life in Anchorage and (I guess thats what most of this post is gonna be) the cold and the beauty filling the air, and its people. I have met some of the most beautiful &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;ppl&lt;/span&gt; here - my client and a good friend Mike Robbins and his wife Debbie. I owe it to them for making my stay here as comfortable as it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;could&lt;/span&gt; be. No amount of gratitude can make up for their love and care. "Debbie is my A&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;merican&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;mommie&lt;/span&gt;", is what I say when any one asks me about Debbie. Spending a day at office without Mike is probably the hardest thing to do, cos I have got so used to his company, his jokes, his thoughts, his expectations, his magic, his choice of music (including his "crap") and everything about him that makes him so wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the other &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;ppl&lt;/span&gt; without whom this brief sketch of life in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;Anchorage&lt;/span&gt; would be incomplete include Craig Fisher - who also happens to be working on the same &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;project&lt;/span&gt; as mine. Witty, smart and a cool guy who took me out for Snow Machining - which happens to be the one of the most craziest things I have done in my entire life (as far as adventure goes).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went for my first lessons on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;Sking&lt;/span&gt; with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;Aashish&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;Chowdry&lt;/span&gt; and boy I'll just can't forget the numerous falls I had before &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;sking&lt;/span&gt; down the slope smoothly in my second climb. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;Aashish&lt;/span&gt; was on a 2 day visit to Anchorage and I spent some good moments with him over dinner and the ride to the Hill Top &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;Sking&lt;/span&gt; area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill Smith, the Alaskan who knows just the right way to tickle the muscles in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;ur&lt;/span&gt; body by doing things as unimaginable as a pole dance for you in office and making it so very "visual" (in his own words) that u roll off your seat. He is one smart and humorous person and I fall of my seat when I have both Bill and Mike in front of me. T&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;hats&lt;/span&gt; a dangerous combination and the result is some unreal wacky and crazy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;imagination&lt;/span&gt; drives which the two of them put me through and I can't help catching my stomach cos the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;excessive&lt;/span&gt; laughter makes it difficult to bear the pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there is Mike &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;Broadhead - the "nerd"&lt;/span&gt; who always has his room dark, sitting on the seat in a mannerwhich will give u the impression that he is hibernating and can slip any moment. The first thing that strikes my mind when someone mentions the name "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;Broadhead&lt;/span&gt;" is "the king of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;wit&lt;/span&gt; and sarcasm." He has got this cold look in his eyes when he speaks, which makes his sarcasm and wit even more interesting. Its a joy to watch both Mikes (Robbins and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"&gt;Broadhead&lt;/span&gt;) trying to outwit each other. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41"&gt;Thats&lt;/span&gt; is one sight I would never wanna miss (lest they both start picking on me. ).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many others whom I would love to write about and I know will surely do in my next posts. for now h&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42"&gt;eres&lt;/span&gt; the link to my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43"&gt;webalbum&lt;/span&gt; : &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/rahul.2111"&gt;http://picasaweb.google.com/rahul.2111&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere within me, I feel that I do not want to leave this place. I have learnt and observed so much more within me in the past 2 months. There were times when I was angry, sad, alone... at one point i felt that the solitude would drive me insane. But, I guess, its the same spirit within all of us, which always pushes us to stretch a little more to see us through tough times towards a better life. Thinking of Mike and Debbie, I remember the good times I had here and then all I can picture is the beautiful Alaska. Both of them were there always whenever I needed them and I know as I write this that parting away from them is gonna be the hardest part of my stay in Alaska. And I know I would wanna hug them and cry within as I leave this special couple in the end of April.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am inviting them for dinner tomorrow before I move out of my present home to my new shelter tomorrow. Still have loads of clothes to iron , utensils to clean and my bags to pack so I guess, I will return to relish the joy and having had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44"&gt;experienced&lt;/span&gt; the p&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45"&gt;leasure&lt;/span&gt; of writing yet again and continue with my chores.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22628222-2714551144408493782?l=outofmamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/feeds/2714551144408493782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22628222&amp;postID=2714551144408493782' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/2714551144408493782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/2714551144408493782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/2007/03/to-sense-pleasure-again.html' title='To sense the pleasure again'/><author><name>Rahul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15805325899518100781</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-22628222.post-115745369722471776</id><published>2006-09-05T05:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-05T08:32:05.416-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My search for the perfect one ends !</title><content type='html'>“Light at the end of a real long long long dark tunnel.” That’s precisely how I felt when I stood there in amazement. My eyes reflecting mixed emotions - disbelief, tiredness, satisfaction… I held in my hands what I now regard the softest skin in this entire universe. The touch … I can still feel it on my fingertips. A perfect creation – so simple yet so sophisticated; beauty and elegance par excellence… I forgot almost everything at that instant; it was a moment between us. Oh yeah! I had just discovered what I am gonna be passionate about for a long long time to come. Now that my dream of a perfect companion has finally materialized, I can sit back and recall my odyssey / ordeal, if I may call it so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My search can be best described as a wild goose chase of sorts; I had no clue whatsoever of what I was really looking for. The only thing I ever knew was that mine must be unlike any guy could ever boast of. When I put my best foot forward with my companion, people should just stop and turn to look at the perfect pair we make. Well that’s the sort of vague search criterion that resided in my mind for over a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4 weeks back&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this party and I see all these guys around me have one, except me. Feeling like an outcast, desperation filled my heart. Not 'just' any one, but the best one; the perfect one. I kept telling myself that If I dint find one that matched the description in my cranium, I wud turn insane. And I kept getting trailers of that during the special monsoon showers which Ill shortly be coming to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not knowing where to begin with, and with the kind of indecisive male I am, I took my problem straight to my dad - One stop for all my issues. As we all know it nothing in this world comes for free; neither did the help from dad. He started with his usual gyaan – “How many times have I told you, that u its high time u should have decided upon one. You are 23yrs old; people, society and blah… blah… everybody watches when u go out… and blah… blah…” That was the shower I was talking about, monsoon was yet to arrive. Despite all this I was hoping dad’s experience could be put to good use; I remember him saying, “When I was of ur age I had 4-5 of them in my kitty and all of them at the same time …” and there went his collar up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3 weeks back&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family and I were visiting the Chennai City Centre – the latest and the biggest… (... ‘Manufacturer of people’, if I may call it so). Seriously, it feels as if the place is oozing with people and somewhere there was this weird pop-corn types of machine from which hundreds of people kept popping out every second. There was this “Sale” going on in the Lifestyle and my dad kept telling me, it’s the right time and right place to look for; difficult to find a larger variety than now, especially with so many people dropping in. I agreed with his analysis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I doubted if it could all happen so easily. I mean, u walk into a shopping mall which is like buzzing with over a thousand people and still be able to happily walk out with one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even before my dad enquired, my mind was racing, competing with Schumi (I guess...), trying to find a convincing and fitting description of something even I was not very sure of. Alas, before I could begin using my brains, the inevitable question pops-up - "What exactly are u looking for?" It simply had to. So there I went with half my mind going left and other I donno where, I started with a vague description, to buy little more time. “It simply has to be unique, and ….” Disgusted with my beating around the bush I told with conviction in my voice, "Am looking for one with a tanned skin." “Huh?!” came the response. Obviously, he was not very impressed. But I remained adamant and that put him off. (I wish I cud tell him even Salma Hayek, one of the hottest dames, has a tanned skin. Of course, the comparison is a little far fetched, but as long as its tanned skin, I am happy). So now I was left alone on the 2nd floor to choose whatever interested me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem, is not when there aren’t any, at least u know there aren’t any; the problem is when there are so damn many to choose from – long, short, Chinese, German, French, Italian… fair white, wheatish, dark skinned. While each one of them was interesting, I knew only a tanned skin would satisfy me. It wasn’t my day, just not. Returned home and now came the much awaited monsoon showers from every corner - my mom, dad, brother… And the worst thing was, while we all had gone looking for me, my brother was able to decide upon one for himself – short and of Chinese origin. Everyone went on to add, that I must have chosen a similar one. I pitied my ears… so this was the latest argument I was supposed to digest, that if not anything, choose what ur brother chooses. I mean is this Mahabharata and are we the Pandavas or something? Anything more about that day and ill loose my entire mood to write so we’ll move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next two weeks I was occupied with some work at office and actually dint have the mood to continue my search. So they went eventless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1 week back&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was evening and my dad convinced me to continue my search. I gave in cos by now I had returned to my normal self of desperation. When asked where we were heading, he replied, “Vepery and Pyriamid”. “Wow! Dad knows the right places to look in for. Hmmm…” I thought. Incidentally, there’s a working women’s hostel and a girls college too in that area. He assured me, that he will not discourage me in any ways and will go by my choice, whatsoever. Well, we ended up searching the place for more than 2 hours and returning home empty handed. This time dad was silent, but my mom and brother decided to play the thunder and lightning respectively. “Phew, another wasted week”, I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lying in my bed that night I thought, may be it really was a wild goose chase, may be I never will get the one I desire, may I should just listen to my parent and settle down with just about anything. Looking up at the night sky, I cud see it was just impossible to bridge the divide between dream and reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The past week&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a Wednesday, and my boss informs me that I may be deputed to Vaashi (in Mumbai) for a period of 6 months. Back home, mom and dad are in an all-senti mood as I am supposed to leave the coming Sunday. As for me, I was happy to be going o the new place. I appeared excited about it. However, behind the sparkle in my eyes, and the smile on my face, my dad could probably figure that I wud be leaving without a sense of completeness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next two days, I am occupied with my work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weekend arrives. Dad hands over the command to mom to accomplish the search mission. Its Saturday, and after a whole day of shopping, my mom is still not tired. She tells everything was done except for the one I had been craving for like ages now. She was reluctant to return home empty handed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Scene: Lifestyle, 2nd floor, 5 P.M.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stand there wondering if “history repeats itself” was gonna turn true. My brain was happily creating horrible illusions of scenes which would best suit in any torturing family drama on Star TV. Pity the viewers. Pity me now? I was glancing around, when suddenly came a voice from within, “NO!” what was I looking at? I was simply awe-struck by the beauty in front of me. An aura of silence seemed to have surrounded me. And then suddenly, it seemed like the climax of MI-1, everything was falling into place, all the partial images had pieced together to take the form of what lay elegantly couched in front of me. I knew this was it – the moment I had been waiting for. Everything was just perfect, the perfect curves and shape, the flawless tanned skin. Mann, I cud even sense the tenderness of the skin 3 meters away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stepped forward, and just did what my heart told me to – lay my hands on supposedly a genius’s creation. I managed to snuggle my fingers into the hollow which felt like all cushion-cushion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ill kill the suspense here... so u wanna see my companion?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7276/2304/1600/shoe.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7276/2304/320/shoe.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7276/2304/1600/shoe.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The geniuses were the craftsmen at Club Tree – makers of genuine leather shoes, wallets, belts, and other accessories. And this where my story of my search for the perfect shoes get over. Now ain’t I ready to put my best foot forward?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really enjoyed posting this one. May not be the best one if i have to go by the readers' standards. Anyways, i'd like u to know that i had no idea of writing a blog thanks to my laziness.. until this real cute friend of mine gives me a tip to write on my search for shoes. weird na... but i enjoyed it all through.. Well she did have a lot of nice things to say bout me in her own blog - &lt;a href="http://frostatmidnite.blogspot.com"&gt;http://frostatmidnite.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt; but i cannot equal a writer of her calibre - one of the very few "best" writers i have known. Do check out her blogs for some real interesting stuff... ull surely get hooked to it just like i have. Thankx Mots. And for all those ppl who wish to congratulate me on the simply stunning photograph which i have over here, I'd like to confess (to be read as Thankx ) Sneh was patient enough to edit the snap perfect to my expectations. I love that snap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22628222-115745369722471776?l=outofmamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/feeds/115745369722471776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22628222&amp;postID=115745369722471776' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/115745369722471776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/115745369722471776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/2006/09/my-search-for-perfect-one-ends.html' title='My search for the perfect one ends !'/><author><name>Rahul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15805325899518100781</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-22628222.post-115004131375940378</id><published>2006-06-11T10:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-11T11:00:31.436-05:00</updated><title type='text'>2 WorldS - so NeaR, YeT so FaR</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Its been long since i've written.May be it was the excitement of the fact that I was beginning to write..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This blog is something I had thought of about 2-3 months back, just hoping to retain my original thoughts..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The 'two worlds' I refer to are two different stages of a human's life - childhood and adulthood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Do you love kids? Most of us do.. rite?? Ever wondered what makes us love them? Are we even conscious of the fact that we &lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;love&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt; them.. I suppose most often it is an un-conscious process... I am attempting to understand, if not all of it, atleast some portion of it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;When we were kids, we wanted to grow up very fast, be in control of people who controlled us, be able to do all that we wanted to without absolutely any sort of interference. The grown-ups seemed to have all the power in this world. They are the ones who make all the decisions, have money, drive cars/bikes, watch television for long hours while we study etc... While this is what we thought that we wanted to do, we also did what we knew the best - play hide-and-seek, fight for petty things and again become friends almost everyday, cry for chocolates and ice-creams, read comics and watch cartoons, be playful, comic, simple and guileless; in short, as innocent as we could ever be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As we grow up, and come across all that we wanted to do, and are not able to do quite the same things, most of become nostalgic. "Yaar, I wish I cud go back to school. or I'd give anything to live my childhood once again". Not that there is something right or wrong in it; its simply human and I am referring to this tendency of man to evade the reality and be anachronistic &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;for sometime&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Something similar to the old phrase - "The grass always seems to be greener on the other side". Its like while we live in the world we do, we always crave for a life in the other world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So our love for children cud possibly arise out of the fact that we are all trying to picture our lives in their; because we know that we may never be as innocent as them , as simple as them, again &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;(unconsciously again , may be)&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Now it may seem, that as a child it was far too easy to cry, laugh, fool around, be naughty; I mean it seems so effortless. Now to do the very things, one may need to think. Not that is not possible, its just that in our efforts to conquer all that we wanted to we &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;"forget"&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; behaviors that came to us so naturally. However, some people are still good at them. And these are probably the people with whom children are able to better connect than those who are &lt;u&gt;"&lt;strong&gt;trying to picture&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;/u&gt; their lives in kids and have &lt;u&gt;"&lt;strong&gt;forgotten&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;/u&gt; their old behaviors.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Thus, while these two worlds, see the other pass by them everyday, each wishes to be on the other side &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;only&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; to want to come back someday.&lt;br /&gt;As far as the blog goes, I may not have have been to capture all that I felt in the days I had initially thought of it; nevertheless I have attempted to pen down something &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;"we all know"&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Another reason cud be the fact that I am thinking of a feeling that I recently experienced, (which some of you may know if you had got my SMS) : &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"A beautiful day ... After tomorrow"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am planning to write more on that. Hopefully I'll write, before another thought conquers ma mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22628222-115004131375940378?l=outofmamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/feeds/115004131375940378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22628222&amp;postID=115004131375940378' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/115004131375940378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/115004131375940378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/2006/06/2-worlds-so-near-yet-so-far.html' title='2 WorldS - so NeaR, YeT so FaR'/><author><name>Rahul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15805325899518100781</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-22628222.post-114069918476234571</id><published>2006-02-23T05:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-03T02:34:10.120-06:00</updated><title type='text'>This is given - Good Things Happen to Bad !</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7276/2304/1600/DSC00197.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7276/2304/1600/DSC00197.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Guys, my second post and its already getting serious.&lt;br /&gt;(Pardon my unstructured style of writing... I am just penning down every little thing that is hitting my mind.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the topic given to me in a communication training.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"GOOD THINGS HAPPEN TO THE BAD"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well, good things don't happen to bad; rather they make good things happen for themselves.&lt;br /&gt;Infact, everybody is responsible for his/her happiness. But the question is - &lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;"To what extent are u willing to stoop down, to make things work for u?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Most of us are bound by our virtues, taught to us in school, given to us as free advice at various point in our lives - honesty, discipline, truthfulness, blah ... blah...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody has a different perception of the right and the wrong. This reminds me of an argument I had with a friend of mine. He wanted to take leave for a period of 5 days, to attend a friends marriage. But, was doubtful if the manager would allow him. I suggested that that he could tell, "Its my brother's marriage". He turned it down saying, &lt;strong&gt;"That'll be lying"&lt;/strong&gt;. But after a some thinking or I don't' what was going on his mind he thought he would say that it is his cousin's marriage. Now was this not a lie? According to him it was not exactly a lie, because his friend was as good as a brother to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point to note, however, is that we come across everyday in our lives, people having their own policies, principles and virtues. But if you look, closely most of them are silent believers of &lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"The only thing I can't resist is - Temptation".&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I believe that the crude reality is - &lt;strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"People alter their virtues, principle etc according to their&lt;br /&gt;convenience." &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Thats the hard fact nobody want to come to terms with. And this is what keeps the good things happen again and again for the so-called bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why I call them "so-called bad" is related to another thought that I often think about - "Patriotism". &lt;strong&gt;So Mr. Reader ! (yes, u only. The one who is reading this now) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Are you PATRIOTIC?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some diversion ... What is patriotism? According to the dictionary - "Its love for one country ... "&lt;br /&gt;So do you love this country? If your answer is a yes, then may I ask - What makes you love this country? Consider that you had been born and raised in a totally different country say, "XYZ"; you would be patriotic towards that country. If thats what it is then would you like this country (my) less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;We take the national pledge... "I am proud of its rich and varied heritage...". How many of us really do think of all this in the given 24hours of our everyday life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth is - in our 24 hours everyday, we &lt;strong&gt;sleep&lt;/strong&gt; long hours (because our body demands it), go to our respective &lt;strong&gt;workplaces&lt;/strong&gt; (because we need money), meet our &lt;strong&gt;friends&lt;/strong&gt; (because we need to feel secure, have our own bit of fun, and not be left alone), &lt;strong&gt;travel&lt;/strong&gt; to and fro between home and work (cos we have a lot of work to do at both these places) and &lt;strong&gt;eat&lt;/strong&gt; a lot (because we need to survive) and over this period of eating, we need a topic to &lt;strong&gt;discuss&lt;/strong&gt;, which is everything related to this country. It could be india's cricket match; the politics; the film industry; the share markets; the scams; the media .... and this is where we decide who is good , who is bad; this is where we form our opinions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now who really knows what this good or bad person is doing in his/her personal life. Mr. Sachin Tendulkar would be busy chatting with his wife; the tatas and the birlas will be busy signing important deals; the politicians will be having a feast in their luxurious homes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when someone questions us, "Are you patriotic?" Our answer pops up in unison ,"YES".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't say patriotism is non-existent. Yes it does exist, but only with those people who have not got things the way they wanted, they may not have got justice, so they start a revolution. This is how most strikes, processions, rallys happen. You and I, never join such things because it does not concern us. So it is really a matter of "concern". The day something starts bothering us, we start to feel the need to change things, with the unconscious motive of alleviating our own problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world may or may not praise you for the sacrifices you made... and even if it did after your death, how does it concern you. You are dead and gone, and the dead don't feel; they don't receive the awards,the medals, the praises thrown in the media. So enjoy life while you are living. Live the way you want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would love to write more, and I surely will, but for now I will let you guys digest this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Its still a jungle out there. Survival of the fittest is what works.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Selfishness is not bad.It is just potrayed bad by people who want to control you,&lt;br /&gt;exploit your innocent m&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ind. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wake up !!!"&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7276/2304/1600/DSC00197.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22628222-114069918476234571?l=outofmamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/feeds/114069918476234571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22628222&amp;postID=114069918476234571' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/114069918476234571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/114069918476234571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/2006/02/this-is-given-good-things-happen-to.html' title='This is given - Good Things Happen to Bad !'/><author><name>Rahul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15805325899518100781</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-22628222.post-114024217131577934</id><published>2006-02-17T23:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-18T00:08:39.033-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>MY First Blog - This One Is 4 U Johnny Boy !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phew !!! How cud i expect everything to go smoothly? My first Blog and I dint know how to post it the right way. Anyways... as they say - &lt;em&gt;"It's better to make all mistakes in the beginning".&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here it is ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John, I read your blogs and was compelled to pen down my own thoughts. I cannot help smiling , the moment I think of the &lt;strong&gt;'powder incident'&lt;/strong&gt;. I wish I had done such a thing :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Johnny Boys' page - &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://thisleftfeelsright.blogspot.com"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;http://thisleftfeelsrite.blogspot.com&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;k. For those of you who might be reading this, for whatever reason, here goes something bout myself...&lt;br /&gt;I am Rahul, working in an IT company just like half the young janta of this country is. This is where i met John.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time i saw John (if i can remember correctly) was while playing Table Tennis. Dint talk to him, but was just wondering &lt;blockquote&gt;how do i beat this guy, he is so good and i am no where close to him.&lt;/blockquote&gt; I dint even know his name then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then after a few months came along a task, where i had to co-ordinate with some guy called John. All I kept hearing from all corners was - John !! &lt;blockquote&gt;He's too good. He will help ya out.&lt;/blockquote&gt;Ok,so that was it. I was waitin for John - the messiah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moment i saw him and it was like - Ok. So this is John. We had to send out some nice, ecxiting, bubbly mails on the intranet. I was tensed for i had never done anything like that before, and was planning frantically because I could not do anything better at that moment.And here comes Mr. John, who cool'ly starts with - &lt;blockquote&gt;Hey i've already written something.. which i will complete and forward to you; just doo= the designing and upload the mail&lt;/blockquote&gt;.So that was it. I wait wondering whats gonna happen and then I see this mail pop-up in my mail box, I was in all shock and awe for this guy had written out such a &lt;strong&gt;Fantastic&lt;/strong&gt;(actually i am having a little trouble thinking of adjectives) &lt;strong&gt;mail.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went on to send out 4 or 5 mails after that.&lt;br /&gt;The duration was short but he sure has left a lasting impression on ma mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John, i never would be able tell this in person thats why it here where i am speaking my mind out. I am so damn glad to have met you, work with you. And what I admire in you the most is your writing (without doubt); your handling of loads of work with absolute ease, and never complain; and your cute :-).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont know if anyone has reached this far for all that i have written, but John, i hope that by now atleast a faint :-) would have appeared on your face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnny Boy THANKS !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22628222-114024217131577934?l=outofmamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/feeds/114024217131577934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22628222&amp;postID=114024217131577934' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/114024217131577934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22628222/posts/default/114024217131577934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outofmamind.blogspot.com/2006/02/my-first-blog-this-one-is-4-u-johnny.html' title=''/><author><name>Rahul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15805325899518100781</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></feed>
