<?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-14478638</id><updated>2012-02-12T21:18:26.057+05:30</updated><category term='Chocolate'/><category term='Malayalam'/><category term='T-Shirts'/><category term='Cafe coffee Day'/><category term='culture and values'/><category term='True love'/><category term='Serendipity'/><category term='Chandigarh'/><category term='mother tongue'/><category term='French Women'/><title type='text'>c'est la vie</title><subtitle type='html'>" A place where we prefer to talk to ourselves and yet be  heard by others "</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>neeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02317643215792981139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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>43</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14478638.post-5666176227876091648</id><published>2011-03-14T15:28:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2011-03-14T16:08:57.421+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Malayalam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='culture and values'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mother tongue'/><title type='text'>Negate Malayalam 'Syndrome'</title><content type='html'>To be honest, I have no clue about the title of this blog. I dont know to what degree will it correlate to the crux mentioned inside the fold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I was forced to accompany my friend for seeing a girl. Quite obvious that he is intending to settle down finally. We went past normal procedures and suddenly the girl's parents pop up "Our daugher is not good with Malayalam." Trust me, they were kind of proud when they said this and heads held very high. My friend said.."Thats all right, not every attribute would find a perfect fit." "One of my other friend wanted to marry a girl with long beautiful balck hair. Guess what he got finally? a girl with hair may be till shoulders." I added with a thin smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me not deviate and come back to the point. What I want to say in plan language is that Malayalam is a language spoken by a relatively small number of people from Kerala. In the near and distant future there does not exist even a microscopic chance where Tamilians or North Indians would learn this language even for fun sake, forget the foreigners. It is a shame that we cannot speak, read and write our own mother tongue. Parents are committing a huge mistake by not passing on our culture and values to the next generation. I fear of those days when English may become the official language of Kerala. I am under serious thought on how to effectively promote my mother tongue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point an enormous fear/unrest cross es my heart and my heart recites two lines from the great poet Vallathol's "Other Languages are just my AAyas (care mother) and Malayalam is my birth mother." Hmm..excuse my translation...:-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Additions/Correction/Suggestions are welcome...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SMJ&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
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&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-5666176227876091648?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/5666176227876091648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=5666176227876091648' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/5666176227876091648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/5666176227876091648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2011/03/negate-malayalam-syndrome.html' title='Negate Malayalam &apos;Syndrome&apos;'/><author><name>Sanal - Maverick unleashed...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06972384727238211966</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_6-68BPFcXFM/R-aZDSa0rjI/AAAAAAAAABI/AO4D7Mcgzuc/S220/0319_1301311.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14478638.post-2301343203204981445</id><published>2010-06-14T09:04:00.009+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-14T09:34:05.314+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Free will - Vedanta, Law of Attraction and Quantum Physics</title><content type='html'>One of my friends(Jaidev :) ) introduced me to the concept of "the Law of Attraction" . Found a very good article on the internet about it by Steve Pavlina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.stevepavlina.com/blog/2006/08/the-law-of-attraction/"&gt;http://www.stevepavlina.com/blog/2006/08/the-law-of-attraction/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to reconcile different views as from Vedanta, Quantum Physics and the above theory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quantum Physics talks about infinite number of parallel worlds which co-exist in all timeframes(past, present and future). Since the physical world is the projection of the thought of the thinker, it should be that there are infinite ways in which the thinker can think which can result in these infinite possibilities. Further there is a conclusion drawn by modern Physics that the world changes so as to fit in with each of our thoughts - this is inline with what Steve Pavlina says. The answer being simple, the world is nothing but a creation of "mine", my mind. But the important thing being i am unaware of it :-) , or am not able to believe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steve says something very good :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You may have a higher order belief that life is random, unfair, uncertain, etc., so in that case you may manifest a surprise because that’s what you’re intending.&lt;br /&gt;Being the only intender in your reality places a huge &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.stevepavlina.com/blog/2006/08/responsibility-and-the-law-of-attraction/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;responsibility&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;on your shoulders. You can give up control of your reality by thinking (intending) randomness and uncertainty, but you can never give up responsibility.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming to Vedanta :&lt;br /&gt;Vedanta speaks of three types of Karma - Prarabda, Sanchita and Aagami. Prarabda being the fruits of our previous actions , Sanchita the fruits which are about to be borne, Aagami the new fruits we tend to deserve from our pending actions . Aagami is nothing but our reaction to the manifestation of Prarabda karma. That is if the current version of the universe(physical and mental) which we have projected is as a result of our Prarabda, how we react to it makes up the Aagami karma :-) . The Law of Attraction speaks of complete freedom to choose what we want, as we are the one who dream, of this world. But as per Vedanta, there are ties of Prarabda which have the potential to bring about Aagami. Prarabda karma which manifests can affect our mental and psychic tendencies in a huge way, depends on how long we can remain aware that this is a dream and not get lost in it again....Again the duration of that awareness, is it predecided? Who decides that? and When? Or is it yet to be decided at the free will of the thinker? :) This should be the reason why inspite of arriving at the theory our ways of arriving at the truth arent the same or of the same duration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is another conflicting thought as regards to the working out of Prarabda, for that to be achieved the universe will need to be set like a stage so that we get our dues for our past actions/intentions, the cause and effect duo. So universe becomes a stage, a stage set in our dream, whatever we have already set in motion in the dream will have to play till it wears out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By then we can choose to wake up :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
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&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-2301343203204981445?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/2301343203204981445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=2301343203204981445' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/2301343203204981445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/2301343203204981445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2010/06/free-will-vedanta-law-of-attraction-and.html' title='Free will - Vedanta, Law of Attraction and Quantum Physics'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-8396328353068996079</id><published>2008-07-12T16:34:00.016+05:30</published><updated>2008-07-12T22:11:44.281+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Looking into the Eyes of a King</title><content type='html'>On my recent trip to Kenya I had one unforgettable moment in life. Coming face to face with a fully grown African male lion. Simba as they call in Swahili.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well it was our first day at the world famous masai mara reserve in Kenya. Supposed to be numero uno when it comes to wildlife reserve. On par with the slightly more famous Serengeti plains in Tanzania bordering Kenya. A place where I hope to go in the future to catch the annual wildebeest migration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We three woke up really early even before the sun was up, closed our tent and greeted our guide/driver (Douglas) with the one Swahili word that all the tourists seemed to know and what we had learned first. The African greeting…“Jambo” (hi in Swahili).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We set out in our open roof van, early morning at 6.30 am just as the sun was rising in the horizon, turning the sky in to an orange glow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHjKW8-LkFI/AAAAAAAAAIY/3ujOT-wM5nk/s1600-h/IMG_4202.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222146263608954962" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHjKW8-LkFI/AAAAAAAAAIY/3ujOT-wM5nk/s400/IMG_4202.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rising sun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We saw impalas and zebras grazing lazily. They seemed least bothered as our vehicle rumbled on, breaking the serene silence of the savanna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHjKWqyXUrI/AAAAAAAAAII/IwP9l37i5I8/s1600-h/IMG_4162.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222146258727555762" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHjKWqyXUrI/AAAAAAAAAII/IwP9l37i5I8/s400/IMG_4162.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Various Herbivores grazing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHjKWED8YiI/AAAAAAAAAH4/byCel4j1BYo/s1600-h/IMG_3910.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222146248332304930" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHjKWED8YiI/AAAAAAAAAH4/byCel4j1BYo/s400/IMG_3910.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now this is what you call a "Zebra Crossing"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we came across a herd of African elephants. They were huge compared to their Asian counterparts. They crossed right in front of our van and walked by as if we didn’t even exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHjK46HX_QI/AAAAAAAAAIg/H2FNTJWyo7Q/s1600-h/IMG_4366.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222146846957763842" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHjK46HX_QI/AAAAAAAAAIg/H2FNTJWyo7Q/s400/IMG_4366.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last Elephant crossing right in front of us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The two things that I really wanted to see were a pride of lions and a cheetah and if really lucky a leopard. Leopards are heard more often than seen. They are nocturnal and often hunt in the night and laze on top of trees during day time. I had seen one in Indian jungle. So I was prepared to miss the leopard, one of the “Big Five”, the others being Elephant, Buffalo, Rhino and of course lions, the king of the jungle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so there we were, driving on through the tall grass. I had chosen to go to Kenya right after the rains. It’s between the low season and the high season. The low season being the months of the long rains. Mar to May end and the high season being July to Oct, that’s when the wildebeests arrive at the mara in the millions from the Serengeti plains, on the way crossing the crocodile infested mara river. A scene nearly everyone would have seen in animal planet/national geographic channel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHjKWYU-5hI/AAAAAAAAAIA/ApFqHTGOOz8/s1600-h/IMG_4158.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222146253772482066" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHjKWYU-5hI/AAAAAAAAAIA/ApFqHTGOOz8/s400/IMG_4158.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world renowned Mara River where the wildebeest's cross&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a while, Douglas spotted something in the distance. All I could see was a lone vulture sitting on top of a small tree. But he seemed to be looking at a small patch of thick bush right next to it. I realized there was some dead animal in the bush. But what was keeping the vulture from swooping down!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHiR2KdrD_I/AAAAAAAAAGg/bv-Zf61OsUc/s1600-h/IMG_4104.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222084127643865074" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHiR2KdrD_I/AAAAAAAAAGg/bv-Zf61OsUc/s400/IMG_4104.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lone Vulture...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we reached close to the bush, Douglas slowed his vehicle and we all peered into the thick bush. I saw something move inside the bush. I peered ever more closely and there it was...lions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first view of the majestic African Lions. They really looked beautiful, perfectly blending into the tall brown grass. It looked like there were some lions feasting on a kill. The bush was much too thick to see through clearly, so we decided to go around to the other side and we slowly backed off and moved real slow through the thick grass to the other side and as we approached the other side, our guide was looking at his right side, into the bushes without looking ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even I was looking at my right side but suddenly I saw something move in front of our vehicle. And there it was, a lioness was standing right in front of our van, in full view. Douglas didn’t see it and he was driving slowly straight at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHiR2TH11oI/AAAAAAAAAGw/Y6ygf5gXqxE/s1600-h/IMG_4109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222084129968215682" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHiR2TH11oI/AAAAAAAAAGw/Y6ygf5gXqxE/s400/IMG_4109.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lioness in front of our Van&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shouted at him to stop. He stopped and I was exclaiming “wow lions..lions with a kill” all excited and he hushed me to be quiet. Hearing the commotion, the female lion slowly walked into the bush and we could now clearly see there were 3 other lions feasting on a cape buffalo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHiSqdy84tI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/MgAyOy-0a2o/s1600-h/IMG_4222.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222085026186584786" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHiSqdy84tI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/MgAyOy-0a2o/s400/IMG_4222.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lions enjoying a cape buffalo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we saw a male lion lying down much more closer to us, hiding in cover, guarding the pride and keeping a watchful eye on us. The lion was less than 10 feet from us. But he was lying down. So we continued snapping happily. But the damn camera was focusing on the bush rather than the lion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHiR2bKn9bI/AAAAAAAAAHA/hZvTzJMZ_6M/s1600-h/IMG_4113.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222084132127372722" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHiR2bKn9bI/AAAAAAAAAHA/hZvTzJMZ_6M/s400/IMG_4113.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Camera in Auto mode focusing wrongly on the Grass iso Simba&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so I put it on manual mode and started taking some more snaps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHiSqLmpUlI/AAAAAAAAAHI/anKeOWCO9II/s1600-h/IMG_4118.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222085021303132754" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHiSqLmpUlI/AAAAAAAAAHI/anKeOWCO9II/s400/IMG_4118.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Male lion laying on the ground just before it got up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lo and behold… all of a sudden the lion got up and the other two in our van got scared and took a couple of steps backwards in the vehicle. But I stood my ground, facing the lion. My hands and head were outside the van taking snaps. I was determined to get the best shot of this truly majestic animal and so I stood still and went on with the clicking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHiSqq4W1uI/AAAAAAAAAHg/BEW-zXCJ97Y/s1600-h/IMG_4236.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222085029698918114" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHiSqq4W1uI/AAAAAAAAAHg/BEW-zXCJ97Y/s400/IMG_4236.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Approaching our van from the side&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then suddenly it took a couple of steps straight at our vehicle and looked straight into my eyes. It was now just a couple of feet away from our van. touching distance, so to speak. I could clearly see blood dripping from his mouth. The buffaloes blood. There I was, looking eye to eye with the king of the jungle. A truly terrifying but memorable experience. One to cherish for the rest of my life... but was there going to be any :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHiSqaBbn2I/AAAAAAAAAHY/88ZVbe9jDmY/s1600-h/IMG_4235.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222085025173577570" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHiSqaBbn2I/AAAAAAAAAHY/88ZVbe9jDmY/s400/IMG_4235.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking into the eyes of a King&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The top of our van was open and one jump and the lion will be inside our van. My heart was pounding real fast. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw both of the others had backed off to the back end of the vehicle. I slowly pulled my hands and head inside making sure not to make any sudden movements so as not to get the lion excited in the wrong way, and slowly took a step backward. The lion immediately took another step straight at me and was staring right into my eyes, assessing me perhaps. It was now just touching distance from our van. I held my breath and stared back. I was captivated by the lions stare. I didn’t know whether to look somewhere else or to return the stare. We looked into each other’s eyes for about half a minute. And then the lion opened his mouth wide and I thought to myself ‘oh noooo… it’s going to jump in”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHiSqndP05I/AAAAAAAAAHo/h8Ou59kGAk0/s1600-h/IMG_4238.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222085028779905938" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHiSqndP05I/AAAAAAAAAHo/h8Ou59kGAk0/s400/IMG_4238.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The white you see is our van. the lion was that close!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But all it did was yawn lazily and then looked at me for one final time and then slowly turned back and trudged back nonchalantly into the bush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHiS5QgRGyI/AAAAAAAAAHw/O6__hKNb2QI/s1600-h/IMG_4239.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222085280316594978" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHiS5QgRGyI/AAAAAAAAAHw/O6__hKNb2QI/s400/IMG_4239.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lion joining the pride after retreating&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well… to summarize the trip, we were lucky enough to see 4 out of the big 5 (African Elephants, Rhinos, Cape Buffaloes), plus Antelopes, Impalas, vervet monkeys, Baboons, Jackals, Spotted hyenas, Burchell’s Zebra, Warthog, Hippos, Giraffes, Bushbucks, Kudus, Elands, Waterbucks, Heartebeest, Topi, Wildebeest, Gazelles and a cheetah losing out its kill to a hyena, but that’s another story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHjKWhrAk8I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/M-It0d52iDo/s1600-h/IMG_4168.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222146256280785858" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHjKWhrAk8I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/M-It0d52iDo/s400/IMG_4168.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Poor Cheetah with a Kill, just before losing it out to Hyenas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our lone miss being the leopard. No one had seen the leopard on those 3 days we were at the reserve. One entire day we spent, looking at the tree lines hoping to catch a glimpse of the elusive one, but to no avail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left the reserve with the Swahili saying ringing in my mind...“Hakuna matata” (no problem)..&lt;br /&gt;hope to see it at the Serengeti plains in future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-8396328353068996079?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/8396328353068996079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=8396328353068996079' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/8396328353068996079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/8396328353068996079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2008/07/looking-into-eyes-of-king.html' title='Looking into the Eyes of a King'/><author><name>neeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02317643215792981139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ERXsY8ngV-k/SHjKW8-LkFI/AAAAAAAAAIY/3ujOT-wM5nk/s72-c/IMG_4202.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14478638.post-6717160684304979953</id><published>2008-03-28T16:29:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-28T16:36:33.521+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Serendipity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='True love'/><title type='text'>True love is like Serendipity...its like magic...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;When ever I get a break (Read as Week ends), I some times drive to Noida; 30 mins drive from mi place assuming that the traffic conditions are not so crude. I often Visit Raju bhayya(whom i fondly call rajuvettan) and his betterhalf Sibi Deedi (Whom I again fondly call Sibiyechi). Both of them are mast and believe in my philosophy of Unlimited fun..frivolous and frolic...Both were my super seniors in Mar Ivanios College, Trivandrum from where I graduated and hence the acquaintence has grown so intense that I am a part of their small family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember during my last visit he talked so much about "Love" that it instigated the sanest thoughts in me to leave abruptly. What he spoke was not really appealing to me and was obviously so boring.. I decided to turn deaf ears. Mi atention was caught else where and I was just mechanically nodding to wot ever he said. At one point, he woke me up so desperately from mi world that he asked me some question..."So wot do you understand from that..?" Quite obvious that I had no clue as I was purposefully not listening for sure..In order to elude a direct question from him..and no dis respect ofcourse... Mi mind..the culprit decided to ask him a dummy question, the question I never even in my dreams thought of asking him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked him, "How did you know that Sibi deedi was the one destined for you?" The answer from Raju bhayya was instant as if he had practiced it many times before..He said.." I first met her in a private bus and it was raining heavily. I was in queue behind her to get down when suddenly her dhupatta got stuck in some metalic part of the foot board." He helped her out and escorted the young lady outside. He continues, "I didnt have an umbrella and I had to walk all the way to the college; around a kilometre." She asked him "Collegeillekkanno..?" (To the college?). Raju Bhayya remembers, they desperately searched for an auto with few success. After wasting some time on this both of them decided to walk to the college under a single umbrella.It is this walk and the moments they shared for about 15 minutes was all necessary for a relationship.. a relationship that was binded by a emotion designed specifically to overwelhm logic....more abstract or potent and dominant than fevicol or any oter influential glue on this earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Raju bhayya gratefully remembers " The moment I touched her for the first time, I knew that this was the girl for me..it was like..pre destined...a relation ship that eventually became clearer to us as we progressed along the fourth quadrant of the graph.." Sibi deedi remembers " the moment I was walking with him towards the college, I knew I am walking with the man of mi life..." Wot do one calls this..serendipity..Magic...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a voracious listener bi now..listening attendively to each and every line of wot both of them were saying. I could experience true love; I could feel it lingering through mi senses. I often wonder in today's world people date, spend hours on chat..what not..wot not...and finally face rejection or spurious travesty..plain lying, cheating..leading to all kinds of mental frustration, more than seldom prude survives. For true love to happen, it just a matter of minutes as I realize now...or some times even less...who knows..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and mi mind goes ....these lines as I drive back....to mi hub...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Theres a song in my mind now,&lt;br /&gt;In your absence how can it be complete ?&lt;br /&gt;Theres this picture drawn in my mind now,&lt;br /&gt;In your absence who would colour it ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SMJ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-6717160684304979953?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/6717160684304979953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=6717160684304979953' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/6717160684304979953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/6717160684304979953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2008/03/true-love-is-like-serendipityits-like.html' title='True love is like Serendipity...its like magic...'/><author><name>Sanal - Maverick unleashed...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06972384727238211966</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_6-68BPFcXFM/R-aZDSa0rjI/AAAAAAAAABI/AO4D7Mcgzuc/S220/0319_1301311.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14478638.post-6344864102391814089</id><published>2008-03-24T17:53:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-24T18:14:14.248+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chocolate'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chandigarh'/><title type='text'>Chocolate Journey to Chandigarh</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I recollect the artifacts of a so called unscheduled, unplanned and unexpected train journey to Chandigarh. The purpose of the journey being esoteric and generic. This incident storms back to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; about some 6 months back. Well, it so happened that I got continuous leaves for some 3 - 4 days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; from the Embassy. I dont know from where this idea occurred. When my mind clings on to some&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;thing ..Thats it..am dead.. all set ..Go! I desperately long for train journeys and desire deeply always as I write most of my poems, German translations of classics, experiences etc..during awesome train journeys. Plus you get to meet so many actors in the system that evokes thoughts and negate mind impoverishness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I reached the New Delhi station at around early morning 6 a.m. Ok. I have got miself here; how do i proceed, i thought. I saw train Himalayan Queen lined up. It would leave in another 10 minutes or so. I felt the adrenalin rush all of a sudden. I hurried to the reservation counter and asked for a 1st class reservation ticket. The elderly women sitting in the counter gave me the most wierdest look possible. "Abbey, jaake koi general le le..koi reservation viservation nahi milega abhi.chal.."( Hindi - impolitely she says to get lost..lols..tats te crisp..am too lazy to literally translate it..) She said it with enormous thrust and ofcourse rudely. Here I go, managed to get a general ticket and got into a stinking local compartment. The train took off (lol..) on time..I was sitting opposite to a Tamil Brahmin family facing them. The family consisted of grandmother ,daughter, hubby who was an erudite and their teenage daughter who looked pretty nerdy, a carbon copy of her father. She had a huge round specs, perhaps the mass of which gave her nose a tough time. "That nose has developed msucles holding that specs for years", I whispered. They noticed me right from the beginning and wanted to start a conversation i suppose. Mean while I received a call from mi amma. After hearing mi malayalam finally the learned father asked me as if he is convinced " Going to Chandigarh ya..?" I said "yes." He continued, " Are you going to meet your friends?" I replied "Not really, Just roaming around."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"But why in a general compartment? There is a shatabdi express after half an hour later. You could go in that with peace. I counter questioned him even before he could finish " I think I should be askin you this. You are travelling with your family, not me." He gave a pale smile and I smiled back for courtesy purpose. At this point of incidence, mi mind created a hypothesis about this man - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;Lets assume that this man is a damn miser unleashed...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; During the course of my journey, I saw him purposefully denying the requests of his wife, daughter and grandma concurrently on buying eatables. He refused to buy a cardbury chocolate that his daughter yearned, a cutlet to his wife that she has been demanding since the train embraced Sonepat station and some masala stuff for the old Grandma. In his dire exasperation he even yelled at them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;Now I confirmed my hypotheis - that this man is a damn super mega miser unleashed...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I am a great fan of Cardburys diary milk. I couldnt control the drooling effect. I bought one and marched towards the compartment entrance. I thought,may be I'll have a better view of the scenic beauty and inhale some cold air.  More importantly I sould eat it with all the liberty I can enjoy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;As I moved, a second later the old Grandma followed. She started talking to me in Tamilayalam ( Lion share of Tamil and minority malayalam words mixed...like Aviyal; a malayalam mix stuff made with all kinds of vegetable available on earth).Her eyes were stagnent on my Cardburys. "My Grand daughter also likes Chocolate" she said..To be honest, I hate to share my chocolate with anyone unless untill that person matters so much to me. Hmm..I asked.." Patti..Koncham chocolate venamma..?"( Its Tamil..Need some chocolate, Grandma?) Even before I completed this sentence She snatched half from me. I didnt like this childish instinct; ergo, I had to respect her age (after all during one of our conversations she said.." you are a kid, not even te age of mi son..)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I would wind this up after narrating a touching scene in this whole episode. Remember the better half part of the chocolate the Grandma snatched. Ya...Now see wot she does with it.. She takes it and delivers the same to her grand daughter. Grand daughter accepts it with out any element of even wot we call textual hesitation. I have shared my Cardburys diary milk chocolate with quite a handful of people; nevertheless they were close to mi heart one way or other. Lets reach on a consensus - I think this is the best chocolate sharing I have ever witnessed and experienced discounting an inexplicable ecstacy floating some where in mi mind...even at this moment when I write this... Some profound attachment resulting some contigent affirmation...OOPs..i better Halt...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;SMJ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
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&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-6344864102391814089?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/6344864102391814089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=6344864102391814089' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/6344864102391814089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/6344864102391814089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2008/03/chocolate-journey-to-chandigarh.html' title='Chocolate Journey to Chandigarh'/><author><name>Sanal - Maverick unleashed...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06972384727238211966</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_6-68BPFcXFM/R-aZDSa0rjI/AAAAAAAAABI/AO4D7Mcgzuc/S220/0319_1301311.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14478638.post-8701558678883023044</id><published>2008-03-23T22:13:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-23T23:19:05.659+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French Women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T-Shirts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cafe coffee Day'/><title type='text'>The French Women and T-Shirt concerns</title><content type='html'>Let me embark on with a confession; not a nefarious one, instead a very benign one. I am the proud owner of a very bad habit. I wake up at 6 a.m every day irrespective of  Sunday or Monday. I get up and take a stroll in the deserted park in front of my flat just envying all those souls who sleep peacefully and I think.."Just look at em..so oblivious...so boring..etc..etc.." That's the succinct...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;    Coming back...Today also the same happened..inevitable...I woke up at 6:05 a.m. I went to church and provided some food for my subconscious. By the time I got out of church it was around 9:30 a.m. I drove mi car as fast as possible, guess for what ? I wanted to have a coffee and I usually prefer it from Cafe coffee Day. The quantity of coffee they offer is simply a largesse for me. I parked mi car with great difficulty and hoped into the CCD. Oh My God! Couples...and Couples everywhere. Quite obviously it reminded me that I am single. Perfect time for a great revelation. I noticed so many eyes staring at me ( Of course you know the reason :-) ). Ergo, I managed to find an empty table as rest all were occupied. I ordered and sat back listening to some of mi favorite Ghazals when I was disturbed by a very dire voice, placing a handbag in front. A French Women. Can I? she asked . Come on, how cud I say NO. I sat back again listening  Music bidding audieu to my defensive mode body language.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  She took out a french novel. Nevertheless never showed any interest reading it. Was just scrolling pages i suppose. So I though that I should initiate a conversation. I disconnected and asked, "Bonjour. Comment etes-vous ? "( How are you?.its french) She suddenly noticed my I-Pod and asked "Whats the storage capacity?" I said " 2 GB" She nodded and said " pretty gud space" I said " Well. not exactly. My Ghazal collection itself wud come at around 6 GB in my Laptop. She interrupted and said "I am Marciel and I can speak good English."  I understood the implication. It meant that I didnt have to struggle speaking some French.  I am disgustingly pathetic with mi french language skills. The testimonial for the same was confirmed with the artificial wrinkles that appeared on her forehead when I asked her "Bonjour. Comment etes-vous ? "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As our conversation progressed we talked about many things, our profession, interests, hobbies etc..etc... Her conversations were pretty pellucid and that meant tat i didn't have to make any wrinkles on mi forehead as well. All through our conversation, I noticed the writings on her T-Shirt. It read " Married...Divorced...Single and Happy now.." I inquired about this as I no longer could contain my innate curiosity. She said.."Oh I have never married..Its just a writing and It does not mean much to me." We both laughed at this.  All of a sudden 4 punjabi Lads entered the scene creating lots of noise..blabbering in punjabi..highly capricious and uncivilized. Intriguingly all four of them were wearing  a black T-Shirt written F.B.I over it. Marciel said " wow..nice T-shirt" to which I confirmed acknowledgment. As they moved past us, the back side of the T-Shirt explained the abbreviation of F.B.I. No points for Guessing. Ok. You got it wrong either ways. It read FEMALE BODY INSPECTORS ..F.B.I. Ha ha.. I started laughing at this..and Marciel joined me after a second. The french are slow to follow up jokes in English.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My point is that those kids were barely 12-13 years old...not more than that. And they were driving a Skoda and loads of cash..other tan the illustrious T-Shirt message. Marciel said..."they are sure havin fun." Yes..I am sure they are..I am not commenting on anything about the entire episode. There are so many things in this world that I do not understand. Some things lies beyond my choice. Today's kids, youth; they lack direction and I doubt how efficient their parents are in showing them the right path.  I just cannot comprehend the youth today. Dexterous for sure they are. But are they an insolent to our culture..? vis-a-vis my generation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been over an hour in the CCD and I had to move to the Italian Embassy to get some files ( I work there).  I felt the sense of urgency to reach the embassy before 12 noon as I had  lunch scheduled with an old friend at 1 sharp. I bid good bye to Marciel and plugged music back into my ears..Moved out..Marciel came running towards mi car.." Oh.. I almost forgot.. Sanal..Can i have  your Business card?" I gave her one and moved drove out of the parking lane slowly as she stood watching.  She became  clear view in mi rear view glass...soon the image  faded..faded  and faded....as I concentrated back to driving...through busy roads of Delhi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-8701558678883023044?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/8701558678883023044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=8701558678883023044' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/8701558678883023044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/8701558678883023044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2008/03/french-women-and-t-shirt-concerns.html' title='The French Women and T-Shirt concerns'/><author><name>Sanal - Maverick unleashed...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06972384727238211966</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_6-68BPFcXFM/R-aZDSa0rjI/AAAAAAAAABI/AO4D7Mcgzuc/S220/0319_1301311.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14478638.post-2307586213837952437</id><published>2008-03-23T19:49:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-23T20:53:52.747+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Another weekend...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;This weekend was a long one - 3 days at home due to good friday and  easter. Friday morning i wake up super late at 9.30 , sit idling with a cup of tea which amma thrust into my hands in between her busy breakfast making schedule.Normally i sit in that posture in the kitchen for about 30-45 min , still feeling drowsy bcoz of over sleeping and yet conversing with amma on what has been happening since last sunday (which is just about 5 days back).Breakfast can be as late as 11-11.30 , and after that i turn on the computer and try to see if anybody has scrapped me in orkut or in facebook or in somethingelse...Meanwhile a hi and a hello in gtalk or yahoo messenger from classmates and friends who are in different parts of the world...In between i get up and stroll around the house with ear phones plugged to my ears,amma says something,achan asks me about something , i nod absent mindedly , oblivious to whatever they say...Come lunch,tea or dinner i continue to remain in my own private world . And then when i take my pet dog out i am reminded of the fact that ammoomma should be waiting to see me ( she lives next door ,near to my uncle's place). Although i know how much she looks forward to seeing me, (she almost waits for fridays to come hoping i will go to her first thing i get home) i keep prolonging my visit.I dont know what it is , as much as i yearn for human company i tend to keep away from it as much as well...Friday and saturday gone thus , its saturday evening and i am chatting with a friend on gtalk...he tells me about a website his friend plans to build and in the midst of many such talks casually asks how had i spent my day and i tell him 'in front of the computer'.And then he asks me a weird question ...'Dont you feel guilty about it?' I am rather confused , i tell him 'Guilty ?why should i? this is the only option i have . Ever since my brother went off to Chennai i don't have anyone of my wavelength to converse with , so inevitably i turn to the computer' My friend retorts ' Well , we have had an argument at home today on this , my grand dad had this opinion that the present generation didn't care for human relationships...once back from office they are immediately glued to the televison . And talking about wavelength , he said that it was a silly little invention of ours , while they in their days knew how to get on well with anyone . Since then i have had this realization , dont you think its scary that cyber relations should bloom while blood relationships die a pre-mature death? ' Going thus  he said he felt gulity , i for one told him that i dont even feel guilty...I felt envious of him that he is capable of feeling that emotion which nowadays seem alien to me...I broke off from the chat mocking at him saying i am signing out to take care of my blood relations , but deep within i knew he was right , after all i have known it all along...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day one of my colleagues had pointed out that when you smile at someone it should come from your heart and not an artificial made-up one and i wondered when had i really transformed into a living robot...Was it the IT field and its lifestyle or was it generic to the modern lifestyle? Sometimes when stress really gets to my head , i stop to wonder if this was what i had dreamt to become way back in my childhood dreams...Everything comes at a price , yes...but when you cease to be yourself , then whats the point in gaining anything else...There are so many things i had wanted to do than code and test applications 12-14 hours a day...my inner being refuses to give up on them and keeps reminding me that i ought to search for better options...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-2307586213837952437?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/2307586213837952437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=2307586213837952437' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/2307586213837952437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/2307586213837952437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2008/03/another-weekend.html' title='Another weekend...'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-1098185218004687239</id><published>2007-05-30T11:20:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-05-30T13:13:05.778+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Monsoons</title><content type='html'>Monsoons are round the corner. Its time again for sleeping late and hurrying to office through the damp, wet streets...I always used to believe that rainy season itself used to bring in a specific state of mind...sometimes it made me feel very homesick,regardless of whether i was in school,college or at work....i wanted to just tuck into my bed and stay there for long hours when it poured outside....or maybe with a nice book in my arms, the rain outside would provide just the perfect ambience...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When i was in school there have been occasions when i used to love or hate rains. I always wanted to sleep longer when it rained and disliked having to get ready for school.My mom and grandmom used to have a fanatical approach to the idea of us (me and brother) getting wet in the rain.Even if it was slightly drizzling outside , mom would glance across the sky and spot dark clouds in the waiting list to rain that day.Next step was to dress us both in watertight raincoats , an additional cap and an umbrella to beat the rain.No amount of pleading or reasoning or threatening would make the slightest effect on her as far as this subject was concerned, sometimes she looked more like a dictator to me.It was her firm belief that we were born delicate(i really dont know what put that idea into her head) and that the slightest drop of rain could land us in bed with a viral fever which would last from 2 weeks to a month... Doomed in that costume which looks more like an outfit for a spacetraveller or an alien from a different planet, we stand in front of our home waiting for the auto rickshaw which took us to school.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Classrooms were wet , dripping umbrellas and muddy shoes everywhere , some students themselves dripping from head to toe , i concluded then that they should come from very uncaring parents who didnt bother to see if their children were getting drenched in the rains and getting fevers....i felt like exchanging mine for theirs then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When classes were conducted , more of the teacher's voice was submerged in the noise we made than the rain outside .Teachers always complained that we were unmanageable when it rained...sometimes when it rained cats and dogs outside and we had to close all the doors and windows to ward off the rainwater , there would be power failures and it would be so dark and cold with us not being able to see each other's faces .Shobha ma'am, our primary school teacher, used to tell us stories in those moments....those are one of the most cherished moments of childhood...she had that ability to dramatize and narrate all sorts of stories , from movies , books or real life as if it had been happening before our very eyes....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We lived near the beach . When dad came back from his office at the lighthouse, he would be full of news of fishing boats which went missing , how much the violent sea has come up to the lighthouse compound wall and what other destruction has been caused by the storm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasnt great having exams on rainy days .Rains and the tensions associated with an exam just didnt go together. Rains meant a time to relax , when we wouldnt have to find excuses for coming late to class or work . If i had had anything to do with it , i will have no exams scheduled during the monsoons . We just cant study when all the world is chilling out :-) .Someone needs to enlighten our universities and exam boards...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Ugh...this rain , when will it stop?, all the dirt of the city gushing over our feet...' True enough , but neverthlesss rains are beautiful , the cooling effect they have on our soul and body after the scorching summers is matchless.......&lt;br /&gt;A loving welcome to another south-west monsoon....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-1098185218004687239?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/1098185218004687239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=1098185218004687239' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/1098185218004687239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/1098185218004687239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2007/05/monsoons.html' title='Monsoons'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-117376513614858072</id><published>2007-03-13T12:18:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-04-02T21:54:30.816+05:30</updated><title type='text'>A brief glimpse of Paradise</title><content type='html'>Well....its been quite a lot of time since i was here last ,almost a year in fact! I had almost lost the blogging habit , it seemed as though nothing seemed relevant enough to be written about.By the way, lots of things have been happening around me. Change of work place for instance, I miss Kochi once in a while...Trivandrum may mean home but still Kochi is kind of special to me,it was there that i developed an independent spirit for the first time of my life....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime there is a change it leaves me flustered.I tend to take a lot of time to adapt to it.After the usual complaining and groaning about the new scenario and surroundings to everyone i came across and no one in particular,i have finally resigned to the fact that "Change is a law of nature" and i better not be insolent enough to resist universal laws :) . When nothing changed , i would complain ,oh why is everything the same day after day ,its so damn dull etc etc. And when change did come , i wouldnt be the happiest one to welcome it. I was never en expert at adapting to my circumstances .My dad is a marvel in that case. In his official life spanning 27 years now , he has travelled across India such alot and lived at all sorts of queer and interesting places . And he has equally been at home at each of the places .I love travelling too but i dont claim to be a hard and tough traveller as dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hungry for a change , sometimes I suggest to my brother "Lets plan a trip to Darjeeling next holidays or maybe Simla!" And he scoffs at me "You who cant resist the cold at Munnar!? I would probably have to bury you in Simla :( And what about your famous vomiting sprees and stomach cramps? " I reply with a sheepish grin because he is not afterall,very far from the truth. And yet i have had a few adventurous trips , which i would always hold dear. One of them is the journey to Minicoy island in Lakshadweep 5 years back.Dad was posted at Minicoy LightHouse then and we went with him during the summer of 2001. We set off from Cochin harbour on board MV Tipu Sulthan.It was the first sea voyage of my life.I had imagined it would be really romantic and it proved to be not exactly so. As the ship heaved and slid this way and that , a nauseating sensation came up from my abdomen to throat and i was trying everything from lemons to ice creams to keep myself from vomiting. At times the sea was calm , the ship was more steady and i could relax .One favourite hobby was , standing on the deck and throwing food items into the water below to watch those blue,yellow,red and purple coloured fish surging to the water surface and lunging for them.They were lovely like the ones we get to see in Discovery,Natgeo or Animal planet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was about 16-18 hours of journey.The ship was full of islanders who were returning home after shopping or medical treatment.And they were a very noisy lot,talking a foreign language which i later found out was Malay. Next morning our ship closed in on the shores of Minicoy. It was a small island with not sufficient depth to harbour a ship .So we lay anchored a few kms in the sea and boatmen came to take away the passengers from the ship to the shore. There was a brief checking of luggage at the entrance by the Police and we were soon seated in a local taxi ready to go to the Light House which was a couple of kms from there. The taxi was actually a goods autorickshaw with benches fixed at its back for people to sit on , and it had no roof :) .Riding on it , we passed through the concrete road to our destination.The majority of the population at Minicoy which was barely a thousand was of Muslim community.They were originally from Maldives and even spoke the native tongue unlike the other islands of Lakshadweep where Malayalam was the official language.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Minicoy Lighthouse was built by the British in the 19th century . It stood tall ,towering over time and the view one got to see from its top was breathtaking . If you are seeking out to go to a place which is so isolated from the world and that serves as a hideout and yet is so serenely beautiful as heaven ,then this should be it. The pure white virgin sands on the beaches ,the hard blowing wind from the sea and the memorable evening walks during our stay stand out in my mind ,forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1247/1312/1600/950843/min.jpg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1247/1312/400/67702/min.jpg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad once pointed to an island out in the sea from the beach and said that its possible to walk upto it when its low tide.Within no time , I forced him into agreeing to going there. We went there next morning ,the sea was just a feet high , below my knees.The little uninhabited island called Viringly had a coral reef running along it. It was great fun ,walking into the sea,holding hands,splashing water on each other and cracking jokes.There were 6 of us - me , dad,brother,2 of dad's colleagues and one guy who was doing research on marine biology.By the time we reached the island ,it was noon and parching hot. Barely had time to rest , we had to walk back to Minicoy before it was high tide again.So we set off again,this time very tired and with less of fun.As we crossed half the distance wading through the water ,the water level started to rise ,the tide was coming in way before our calculations..... We had to rush now or else we would be drowned unless we knew how to swim.Everybody increased their pace ,I noticed how the water level kept rising , first over my knees ,then over my waist and finally upto my shoulders.Meanwhile brother lost one of his slippers and while trying to retrieve it , fell into the water.There was a slight panick as everyone pulled him out of the water, his leg was bleeding from the fall. Finally,we literally collapsed on the beach when we got there . The first thing we came to an agreement among the three of us was , not to divulge any of the narrow escape we had that day to mom or else she would make hell seem sweeter for us. I slept like a log that night...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 4 days at Minicoy gave me priceless memories and I was literally crying when we had to board the ship back home.I was so much in love with those blue-green waters and pearl white beaches..............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-117376513614858072?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/117376513614858072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=117376513614858072' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/117376513614858072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/117376513614858072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2007/03/brief-glimpse-of-paradise.html' title='A brief glimpse of Paradise'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14478638.post-113017296919496229</id><published>2006-06-24T22:24:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-07-13T20:00:43.743+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Dream Catchers.....</title><content type='html'>Of late i'v been seeing really eerie dreams...i find it hard to comprehend what my subconsious is trying to imply... my consious mind is at its best trying to fathom the versatility of my subconsiousness and falling far short of its expectations. a far cry from the vibrance that it was able to bring forth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats what made me think about......Dream catchers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dream Catchers are an ancient spiritual tool used by the red indians to help assure good dreams to those that sleep under them. its usually placed over a place you would sleep where the morning light can hit it. As you sleep all dreams from the spirit world have to pass through the dream catcher. Only good dreams can pass through the hole in the center while the bad dreams are caught in the webbing and are destroyed by the morning light.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-113017296919496229?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/113017296919496229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=113017296919496229' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/113017296919496229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/113017296919496229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2006/06/dream-catchers.html' title='Dream Catchers.....'/><author><name>neeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02317643215792981139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-114542366237467447</id><published>2006-04-19T10:14:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-04-13T10:30:51.113+05:30</updated><title type='text'>A journey into the past</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/1600/IQ3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/320/IQ3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nine long years it has been.&lt;br /&gt;It was in the summer of 1997 that we left Surathkal and its premises, to settle in Thiruvananthapuram.So much has happened in the years that followed , each one of us growing older , me and brother crossing classes , switching schools and colleges, surviving the mishap called professional entrance exam as well as we could and landing up in CET one after the other.My engineering tenure was a disappointing one with me underperforming and all my introvertism playing the villain , i frankly didnt gather much good at CET , which i have come to regret greatly at this later mode of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All through this course of time, i always had this feeling that something was greatly amiss in my life , something which i couldnt put my fingers on and say with surety...it wasnt exactly nostalgia , but all the same it was very much there...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We jumped at the chance when father made a suggestion that maybe we could make a trip to Mookambika via Mangalore for the Vishu + Easter hols this time.I knew very well that almost all of my classmates have moved out of the place , either married or got jobs or gone for higher studies...with everyone scattered all over the globe , the place will never be the same , yet i wanted to see it very much, perhaps I wanted to remind myself of the better times of my life...&lt;br /&gt;We boarded the Malabar express at 12 pm , midnight from Ernakulam.All the world might have changed but not our dear Malabar express:) , tugging and pulling it got us there at 11 am the next day , an hour and a half later than its scheduled time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/1600/Sunset2.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/320/Sunset2.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/1600/LH5.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/320/LH5.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/1600/SivaTemple.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/320/SivaTemple.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peeping out of the taxi as it sped along to Surathkal , i found little had changed about the place.It was very hot and dusty as it would be in summer in coastal Karnataka.Thats when we are grateful for the intermittent rains ,that have rendered us green all through the year.The funny thing was that i had expected great changes with the place and people ,and i felt a bit odd on discovering that was not so...nothing much had changed.As our car turned into the left side road to the lighthouse, opposite the men's hostel for Karnataka Regional Engineering College students (now its KNIT , Surathkal), our mouths opened wide to find the 'goodangadis'(kannada for a temporary thatched shop ) which sold sugarcane juice , omlette , noodles and such quick snacks , intact :) . The gate for Sadashiva devasthana(a temple of Lord Siva overlooking the beach ) had been repainted. Again at the staff quarters , new gates were put up , some trees were missing , (guess there had been some tyrant who specialised in cutting down trees ) i felt really downcast when i saw the empty space where our huge Badam tree had stood with its large branches offering a cool shade .....also i was disheartened to see two emaciated black she-dogs which came barking at us and ran away when brother bend down to pick up a stone, we used to to have two robust lovely dogs named blacky and browny both of which were reared right from when they were pups .The place had somewhat deteriorated ....plenty of overgrowth at the backyard of the quarters where we had lived for eight years....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/1600/LH4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/320/LH4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/1600/LH2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/320/LH2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/1600/LHview3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/320/LHview3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The LightHouse and its office and controls room are a bit away from the staff quarters , about 2-3 minutes walk . There is the temple on the way , high up on a rock, the road which runs beside it goes to the LightHouse compound.Here there was good news.Some good renovation had happened , again new gates :) , freshly painted Inspection quarters(IQ) which appeared to have had a good maintanence (thats where we planned to stay until we left for Mookambika the next day) brought back our spirits.The IQ looks on to the beach below , it has all the positioning that a tourist beach resort should have.All those familiar rocks and boulders , sea breeze wafting in all the time and suddenely summer seemed no longer a threat .After a quick bath we hurried to have lunch at the Station Engineer's quarters, they were malayalees and were too eager to meet us, i thought that they were generously kind to have taken all the trouble , anyway the 'fish biriyani' tasted delicious ;) , and again we dined on the the same table we had used all the time when we were there :) . I ran around inpsecting what had once been my room , TV room , office room etc etc to us , they all seemed alien in new settings ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/1600/sunset4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/320/sunset4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/1600/IQ4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/320/IQ4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/1600/Sunset1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/320/Sunset1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That evening we climbed up the stairs to the top of the lighthouse . Standing out there with just the parabolic reflecting lens higher than us, feeling the strong gush of sea wind against our faces and the magnificient view of landscape merging into the sea ,one never really feels like dismounting those steps back down. Managed to get down to the beach before sunset and brother got busy with his camera .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the most unexpected thing happened . Me and brother had no plan to go meeting our old classmates , one reason being we had no idea where each of them would be , and if any where left at Surathkal at all , brother even suspected that they may not recognise him after all these years and he should be long forgotten to them. We were walking back from the beach as time passed from twilight to night , there were many people moving to and fro , lot of them being students of the nearby engineering college. It was getting really dark and we could hardly see each other's faces , suddenely i saw that brother was missing from the lot.I looked back to see him chatting with two guys , one a really tall and big one :) , laughing gleefully and hurrying to us , for a moment i was confused , any of his friends from trivandrum?? , his voice cut my train of thoughts , those two are Vikas and Nikhil !! , we had seen them as kids from LKG to 6th std .I went to talk with them with a slight hesitation thinking they may not remember me , only to learn that they had recognised me first and brother through me!! :) . From that moment my brother left us to join his long lost buddies , could understand his excitement, i wouldnt have been any less happy if this was to happen to me.Soon the rest of the pack joined them(all informed on cellphones by the other two) and we could hear all the noise they made at the beaches from where we stayed.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later he told me the whole thing was incredible bcoz it was on April 12 , 1997 that they parted , at the same spot with the uncertainty if they would ever meet again .Then they had just passed into 7th std and now all of them in 6th sem in different engineering colleges , one in medical college.And on April 12, 2006 they meet at the same place by pure coincidence!! Brother said even Stephen King couldnt account for so much of coincidence :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of this unexpected meeting , the way to meet Shahin ma'am , the teacher we loved most and influenced us the most in school , became clear.Otherwise i had forgotten the way to her home in KREC campus.We went to meet her , me laden with half a kilo of 'burfi' from 'Costa bakery' :). Her eyes bulged with surprise and face quivered with happiness to see four of her students at her door step.She welcomed me with a big hug saying repeatedly "So happy to see you dear" . She talked enthusiastically for the next 1 hour or so , we were amazed about how much of an encyclopeadia she was as far as her students were concerned.She knew every specific detail about everyone she taught in the last 14 years.She for herself had grown older , but there was no holiday to her energy.We can never categorize her as an efficient and dedicated teacher .She simply had to be the most efficient and dedicated teacher that ever was :) . Took snaps of her but unfortunately they didnt come out well...She gave us all hugs and blessings when we said goodbyes .Passes our school on the way back , it had more buildings now and a new compound wall, except for that everything was the same, the same trees at the back , the same throwball courts and cricket ground .It was closed for summer vacation.We had to hurry back so that we could leave to Mookambika that afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip to Mookambika was quite uneventful , except for the mad rush at the temple for 'Vishu Kani' which i detested very much .If at all we go there again we should choose a better time of the year , the extreme summer heat made it worse.By the time we got into Malabar express to return home , i was sick with food poisioning...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all it was a memorable trip , one which we never believed would materialize , because our individual availabilities never seemed to coincide .....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To get a feeling of being in the past is really something.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-114542366237467447?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/114542366237467447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=114542366237467447' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/114542366237467447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/114542366237467447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2006/04/journey-into-past.html' title='A journey into the past'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14478638.post-114253812885802982</id><published>2006-03-17T00:40:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-17T01:36:27.423+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Humans &amp; Emotions</title><content type='html'>I have always been a fan of Star Trek. Even though it was created by Gene Roddenberry, most of the stunning Logs were written by Alan Dean Foster. His climaxes were absolutely superb.&lt;br /&gt;There is one in which Voyager returns to earth after some 300 years to finish its mission. That novel was a real classic and later on was made on to a Star Trek Movie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some things in life had made me remember Mr Spock, thats how i decided to put up something about one of my all time love...anything to do with science fiction.&lt;br /&gt;well.. if i remember clearly, the vulcan's thought process was purely logical, they were devoid of emotions like humans. All conflicts are caused by emotions , when they are hurt we do often find ways to hurt the others also. so by getting rid of these stupid emotions they were able to live in peace and harmony.&lt;br /&gt;If only we could block those unwanted emotions which comes at the wrong time and lends u more trouble than happiness....&lt;br /&gt;The recepie for all of life's miseries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only time travel was possible, we could have gone back and undone the wrongs we had committed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stephen Speilberg's Back to the Future Trilogy was one of those kinda movies which was based on Time Travel.&lt;br /&gt;Einstein had theorised that time travel was possible if only we could travel faster than light. We all know the universe as 3 dimensional, he had come up with the 4th dimension , the one of time and space. he said they were warpped together. But according to him Time travel into the past was not possible, but now Stephen Hawkings is of the opinion that even that is possible. if only we could bend time and space in opposite directions. Hawkings Lectured that there were 10 dimensions to this universe. Even though he himself has changed some of the ground breaking theories he had published in his masterpiece "A Brief History of Time" most of them do hold good even now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has given many lectures about the plausibility of Time Travel. He then goes on to say there might be some unknown Chronology Protection Law that stops people from coming back to the past from the future, ie if in the future some one had discovered time travel. That explains why we have not seen any body coming back to our current period from future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now i'm back to my normal self again, my emotions have been replaced by Logic. No point in wasting money by writing Blogs from Browsing centres.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and as Hawkings concludes&lt;br /&gt;Since we haven’t cracked time travel yet, I have run out of my prepaid browsing time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-114253812885802982?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/114253812885802982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=114253812885802982' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/114253812885802982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/114253812885802982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2006/03/humans-emotions.html' title='Humans &amp; Emotions'/><author><name>neeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02317643215792981139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-113126465861512224</id><published>2006-03-04T13:35:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-08T11:35:12.600+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Near Death Experience</title><content type='html'>everyone comes face to face with death , atleast once in their life time.&lt;br /&gt;mine was... when i was in 5th std. i suppose i cud say the same applies to my cousin preeth too...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Different people have different ways of spending holidays. we were always on the outlook for the more outrageous ones.&lt;br /&gt;and one of these escapades nearly brought the curtains down on us.&lt;br /&gt;beaches always hold a fascination for almost everyone and even more so when you are on the younger side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eventhough i had spent most of my childhood in coastal areas, that doesnt make it any less.&lt;br /&gt;in kannur the beach was just a couple of kms away from the place where we dwelled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we were in 5th std when we got our first cycles (preeth&amp;amp; me) BSA SLR ,that was the only type available in the market for the childrens section at that time.&lt;br /&gt;i had a blue one and preeth had a red one.. we always preferred the off roads...the beaten tracks, so to speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as one side is sea and the other side was too hilly for us to navigate, we invertedly ended up on the beaches more often than not.&lt;br /&gt;we were obviously banned from going to the beaches. they always found it to be too risky for us, especially since both of us didnt know swimming at all but we thought otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and on one of these trips we ended up on a really deserted stretch of beach. as we didnt kno swimming we never ventured out too deep. we always just ran around the edge, just wetting our feet and trying to splash each other and get drenched in the process.&lt;br /&gt;this time around, while doing so preeth accidently lost his chappal.he came to know about it after some time only. by then it was totally lost. we had no idea where he had lost it.we ran around trying in vain to spot it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then i came up with this rather stupid idea(back then i considered it on par with sherlock holmes) to throw the other chappal also, so that we can watch where it ends up.....hopefully , it wud float ashore at the same clave.&lt;br /&gt;so he threw it and we waited eagerly with our breaths held...well..... nothing much happened though.....it staright away got washed ashore at the same place where we threw it. we gave it a couple of more tries , but the incompetent chappal was unable to locate its partner:-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with broken hearts(not cus of loosing the chappals, but at the failure of my idea) we decided to call it quits. as we were turning , preeth suddenly spotted the chappal floating near the edge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so we ran towards it without thinking much, there was some rocks that ran into the sea, some of them were on the shore and sum trailing on to the water. so we had to run around it, and as we were crossing the rocks, a huge waved suddenly came out of nowhere and swept us off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was made worse as our attention was completely diverted looking at the chappal that both of us didnt see it coming.. and there we were...... tumbling and rolling in water, swallowing water mixed with mud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was shouting at the top of my voice to help me but ironically he was also doing the same. i could feel the water receding back and it was taking me along with it...i was trying to get up on my feet but i just couldnt balance myself. the sand receding from underneath me made it impossible to have any control on my movements...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the one good thing when u r fighting for ur life is that u dont have time for any negatives thoughts to enter ur mind cus u r always engrossed in staying alive.. so i never gave in..in between when my head wud pop above the water i cud see the shore getting farther and farther . the distance was increasing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i somehow finally managed to get back on my feet, but the bobbling water was now neck high. and as i was looking frantically for any signs of preeth another wave crashed into the back of my head and i fell face first in to the water. again i was now completely under water, the muddy water made it impossible for me to open my eyes .i was again being dragged back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;suddenly i felt something brush my hands and i grabbed it, it was one of those rocks in the sea. i tried to get a firm grip but it was so damn slippery , with all my might i dragged myself towards it and somehow managed to get a firm holding and then i managed to keep my head above water&lt;br /&gt;and looked for preeth towards the shore, but no one was standing there it was totally deserted there was no sign of him, things were getting really scary. i looked behind me and still i couldnt find any signs of him and then with quivering voice i called out his name, for a sec no reply came and then i heard my name being called and it sounded very near to me, wud u biliv it , he was also clinging on to the same rock on the other side for his dear life. we were saved by the rocks, well atleast for the moment. now came the tough part of getting back on shore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the water was too deep for us, actually we didnt have much idea how deep the water was there, the land looked too far off...we waited for a while to catch our breath and hoped for the water to recede. but it was not happening, that left us with no choice but to make a dash for it. and we waited for one of the big waves to recede back so that the next wave that comes will be blocked by the receding one.&lt;br /&gt;and it happened just as we wished, one big wave came and was receding and as soon as it crossed us we ran for our dear lives, well u cud say, we somehow managed to bobble our way towards shore keeping our nose above water we were jumping on our toes and wading our way towards shore and then another wave came and hit us , but this time we were prepared, we just went with it and it helped us get to chest high water . from there on it was a mad rush , we both ran for our dear lifes shouting each others name to hurry up and atlast we made it ashore. totally exhausted, we lay there on the beach completely drenched and with mud all over us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and during all this calamity both his chappal had washed ashore ,i had kept mine on higher grounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so we bid goodbye to our beach, we couldnt go in such state to our home, we wud hav had to spent the rest of our holiday under house arrest. so he came up with the idea to clean overselves completely b4 going home, so we went to one of his friends place,bathed then washed our clothes and ironed it dry. first time that i had done either of the last two.&lt;br /&gt;and then we went home..onnum ariyaatha randu paavam poochakuttikale pole veettil keri..&lt;br /&gt;little did they know what had happened, how close they came to loosing their children that day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;somehow the event had a lasting impact on me. from that day onwards i never ventured out much into sea, eventhough i do know a little bit of swimming now.&lt;br /&gt;after that day, i hav never gone deeper into sea than up to my waist&lt;br /&gt;well...&lt;br /&gt;other than only once.......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
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&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-113126465861512224?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/08/happiest-day-of-my-life.html' title='Near Death Experience'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/113126465861512224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=113126465861512224' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/113126465861512224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/113126465861512224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2006/03/near-death-experience.html' title='Near Death Experience'/><author><name>neeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02317643215792981139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-114136444303854845</id><published>2006-03-03T10:25:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-06T16:57:20.203+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Lost and Found</title><content type='html'>I am singularly thankful that the comparitively new Malayalam channel , Amrita TV is re-telecasting the mega-serial 'Chanakya' which was shown originally on DD years back , and also its the Malayalam translation as well.Not that Hindi wasnt good enough , that particular serial belonged to the golden era of our dear DoorDarshan . What a relief to watch something of substance in the midst of all those soap mega serials which reign all our channels irrespective of whether its a Malayalam or Hindi.And if at all they happen to show a good movie , the umpteen ad-breaks tires even the most patient person out.My favourite refuge is the "Discovery Channel" or the " Animal planet". I had kind of given up on TV programmes on the whole and achan used the television mainly to watch news on IndiaVision or CNN-IBN. Anyway i am not interested in the news the world over as he is...So I had kind of developed an allergy to TV. Thats when we chanced upon 'Chanakya' last week....a real awesome serial and to think it was created in the 90's when technology wasnt even 1/10th of what it is now....Dr.ChandraPrakash Dwiwedi who plays 'Chanakya' is simply too good at it...and all the amount of research he has put into his effort shows...'Chandragupta Maurya' and the great Maurya empire , excerpts from 'Arthashastra' and the 'Vedas'....gives one goose bumps of our priceless heritage , 2350 years ago.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world of books is opening unto me again , after a long time. Achan suggested that i read Malayalam. " There are so many works which are too good and of which you are totally unaware. If you miss them , it would be a definite shame" , he said . And now i am an ardent fan of the great 'Karur' , Karur Neelakantapillai . His simplicity is astounding and his genius shows through all those simple , passionate words. What attracted me most was the absence of that unbearable 'jaada' to which most modern Malayalam writers fall prey . In simple subtle words he says so many untold stories , all so beautiful and captivating and enriching to the soul....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find this unknown territory  really fascinating and what  i have just  seen is only  the tip of the iceberg...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-114136444303854845?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/114136444303854845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=114136444303854845' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/114136444303854845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/114136444303854845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2006/03/lost-and-found.html' title='Lost and Found'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-114127703002464960</id><published>2006-03-02T10:50:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-06T17:38:08.153+05:30</updated><title type='text'>When will we change?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The President of India , DR. A. P. J. Abdul Kalam's Speech in Hyderabad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is the media here so negative?&lt;br /&gt;Why are we in India so embarrassed to recognize our own strengths,&lt;br /&gt;our achievements? We are such a great nation.&lt;br /&gt;We have so many amazing success stories but we refuse to acknowledge them. Why?&lt;br /&gt;We are the first in milk production.&lt;br /&gt;We are number one in Remote sensing satellites.&lt;br /&gt;We are the second largest producer of wheat.&lt;br /&gt;We are the second largest producer of rice.&lt;br /&gt;Look at Dr. Sudarshan, he has transferred the tribal village into a self-sustaining, self-driving unit. There are millions of such achievements but our media is only obsessed in the bad news and failures and disasters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in Tel Aviv once and  was reading the Israeli newspaper. It was the&lt;br /&gt;day after a lot of attacks and bombardments and deaths had taken place. The&lt;br /&gt;Hamas had struck. But the front page of the newspaper had the picture of a&lt;br /&gt;Jewish gentleman who in five years had transformed his desert into an&lt;br /&gt;orchid and a granary.&lt;br /&gt;It was this inspiring picture that everyone woke up to. The gory details of&lt;br /&gt;killings, bombardments, deaths, were inside in the newspaper, buried among&lt;br /&gt;other news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In India we only read about death, sickness, terrorism, crime. Why are we&lt;br /&gt;so NEGATIVE? Another question: Why are we, as a nation so obsessed with foreign things? We want foreign T.Vs, we want foreign shirts. We want foreign technology.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why this obsession with everything imported. Do we not realize that self-respect comes with self-reliance? I was in Hyderabad giving this&lt;br /&gt;lecture, when a 14 year old girl asked me for my autograph. I asked her&lt;br /&gt;what her goal in life is. She replied: I want to live in a developed India.&lt;br /&gt;For her, you and I will have to build this developed India. You must&lt;br /&gt;proclaim. India is not an under-developed nation; it is a highly developed&lt;br /&gt;nation. Do you have 10 minutes? Allow me to come back with a vengeance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got 10 minutes for your country? If yes, then read; otherwise, choice is yours.YOU say that our government is inefficient.&lt;br /&gt;YOU say that our laws are too old.&lt;br /&gt;YOU say that the municipality does not pick up the garbage.&lt;br /&gt;YOU say that the phones don't work, the railways are a joke .The airline is the worst in the world, mails never reach their destination.&lt;br /&gt;YOU say that our country has been fed to the dogs and is the absolute pits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOU say, say and say. What do YOU do about it?&lt;br /&gt;Take a person on his way to Singapore. Give him a name - YOURS. Give him a&lt;br /&gt;face - YOURS. YOU walk out of the airport and you are at your International&lt;br /&gt;best. In Singapore you don't throw cigarette butts on the roads or eat in&lt;br /&gt;the stores. YOU are as proud of their Underground links as they are. You&lt;br /&gt;pay $5 (approx. Rs. 60) to drive through Orchard Road (equivalent of Mahim&lt;br /&gt;Causeway or Pedder Road) between 5 PM and 8 PM. YOU come back to the&lt;br /&gt;parking lot to punch your parking ticket if you have over stayed in a&lt;br /&gt;restaurant or a shopping mall irrespective of your status identity... In&lt;br /&gt;Singapore you don't say anything, DO YOU? YOU wouldn't dare to eat in&lt;br /&gt;public during Ramadan, in Dubai. YOU would not dare to go out without your&lt;br /&gt;head covered in Jeddah. YOU would not dare to buy an employee of the&lt;br /&gt;telephone exchange in London at 10 pounds (Rs.650) a month to, 'see to it that my STD and ISD calls are billed to someone else.'YOU would not dare to&lt;br /&gt;speed beyond 55 mph (88 km/h) in Washington and then tell the traffic cop,&lt;br /&gt;'Jaanta hai main kaun hoon (Do you know who I am?). I am so and so's son.&lt;br /&gt;Take your two bucks and get lost.' YOU wouldn't chuck an empty coconut&lt;br /&gt;shell anywhere other than the garbage pail on the beaches in Australia and&lt;br /&gt;New Zealand.&lt;br /&gt;Why don't YOU spit Paan on the streets of Tokyo? Why don't YOU use&lt;br /&gt;examination jockeys or buy fake certificates in Boston??? We are still&lt;br /&gt;talking of the same YOU. YOU who can respect and conform to a foreign&lt;br /&gt;system in other countries but cannot in your own. You who will throw papers&lt;br /&gt;and cigarettes on the road the moment you touch Indian ground. If you can&lt;br /&gt;be an involved and appreciative citizen in an alien country, why cannot you&lt;br /&gt;be the same here in India?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once in an interview, the famous Ex-municipal commissioner of Bombay, Mr.&lt;br /&gt;Tinaikar, had a point to make. 'Rich people's dogs are walked on the&lt;br /&gt;streets to leave their affluent droppings all over the place,' he said.&lt;br /&gt;'And then the same people turn around to criticize and blame the&lt;br /&gt;authorities for inefficiency and dirty pavements. What do they expect the officers to do? Go down with a broom every time their dog feels the pressure in his bowels?&lt;br /&gt;In America every dog owner has to clean up after his pet has done the job.&lt;br /&gt;Same in Japan. Will the Indian citizen do that here?' He's right. We go to&lt;br /&gt;the polls to choose a government and after that forfeit all responsibility.&lt;br /&gt;We sit back wanting to be pampered and expect the government to do&lt;br /&gt;everything for us whilst our contribution is totally negative. We expect&lt;br /&gt;the government to clean up but we are not going to stop chucking garbage&lt;br /&gt;all over the place nor are we going to stop to pick a up a stray piece of&lt;br /&gt;paper and throw it in the bin. We expect the railways to provide clean&lt;br /&gt;bathrooms but we are not going to learn the proper use of bathrooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We want Indian Airlines and Air India to provide the best of food and&lt;br /&gt;toiletries but we are not going to stop pilfering at the least opportunity.&lt;br /&gt;This applies even to the staff who is known not to pass on the service to&lt;br /&gt;the public. When it comes to burning social issues like those related to&lt;br /&gt;women, dowry, girl child! and others, we make loud drawing room&lt;br /&gt;protestations and continue to do the reverse at home. Our excuse? 'It's the&lt;br /&gt;whole system which has to change, how will it matter if I alone forego my&lt;br /&gt;sons' rights to a dowry.' So who's going to change the system?&lt;br /&gt;What does a system consist of ? Very conveniently for us it consists of our&lt;br /&gt;neighbours, other households, other cities, other communities and the&lt;br /&gt;government. But definitely not me and YOU. When it comes to us actually&lt;br /&gt;making a positive contribution to the system we lock ourselves along with&lt;br /&gt;our families into a safe cocoon and look into the distance at countries far&lt;br /&gt;away and wait for a Mr.Clean to come along &amp; work miracles for us with a&lt;br /&gt;majestic sweep of his hand or we leave the country and run away.&lt;br /&gt;Like lazy cowards hounded by our fears we run to America to bask in their&lt;br /&gt;glory and praise their system. When New York becomes insecure we run to&lt;br /&gt;England. When England experiences unemployment, we take the next flight out&lt;br /&gt;to the Gulf. When the Gulf is war struck, we demand to be rescued and&lt;br /&gt;brought home by the Indian government. Everybody is out to abuse and rape&lt;br /&gt;the country. Nobody thinks of feeding the system. Our conscience is&lt;br /&gt;mortgaged to money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Indians, The article is highly thought inductive, calls for a great&lt;br /&gt;deal of introspection and pricks one's conscience too.... I am echoing J.F. Kennedy's words to his fellow Americans to relate to Indians.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'ASK WHAT WE CAN DO FOR INDIA&lt;br /&gt;AND DO WHAT HAS TO BE DONE TO MAKE INDIA&lt;br /&gt;WHAT AMERICA AND OTHER WESTERN COUNTRIES ARE TODAY'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets do what India needs from us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" bold=""&gt;(PRESIDENT OF INDIA)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/07/making-difference.html"&gt;A previous post which seems quite relevant here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-114127703002464960?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/114127703002464960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=114127703002464960' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/114127703002464960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/114127703002464960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2006/03/when-will-we-change.html' title='When will we change?'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-113756133379676495</id><published>2006-01-18T10:16:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-06T17:41:53.556+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Those bonds of love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/1600/xanimal15_640.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/320/xanimal15_640.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sarfaroshi ki thamanna ab hamare dil mein hai&lt;br /&gt;  Dekhna hai zor kitna baajuein qaatil mein hai"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Car stereo at full blast....have heard these lines before, in 'The Legend of Bhagat Singh'....but this is 'Rang de Basanti' thats playing....I turn to my brother who is driving the car, "whats the meaning of 'sarfaroshi'?"....prompt comes his answer "freedom". A brief pause before he continued , "When someone questioned Swami Vivekananda as to what did religion mean, he answered 'Sarfaroshi', meaning freedom, freedom from everything and anything that binds you....havent you heard of it?". I had to deliberately shut my mouth which went wide open, on hearing my dear brother quoting Swami Vivekananda with reverence! I found myself wondering , is this the same kid who used to laugh at me and amma when we discussed philosophy and spiritualism?He would always say that our theories are all quite outdated...people do turn rebels and atheists at an early age...thats one of the consequences of the spirit of youth, to oppose restraint and reject theories to go ahead and make your own paths....Whatever it is, why this sudden change in him?...as if reading my thoughts, he told me about a classmate of his at Engg college, who is from the Andamans...that kid seems to be a devout of Swami Vivekananda, and many others of our great heritage....and he is my brother's pet friend...so, thats the way the influence came! He had achieved in a few days what me, amma and achan had been trying since many years in vain.....to make him see a point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats exactly the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chetana Varambally used to be my best chum in school...in those days,my dialect was always something like "chetana angane paranjuu..ingane paranjuu"....Chetana used to have kanjii with ghee for breakfast(and the rare ocassions when she had dosa or idlee, she would empty my water bottle, out of thirst:))...she wokeup everyday in between 3.30 and 4 am...then had to light a fire to boil water for all of her family, which consisted of 2 elder sis , 1 younger sis and her parents.....her father was an employee at KREC college......she was more mature than other girls of her age....had few intimate friends...infact till i was made to sit next to her in class, she had been somewhat friendless. We became ardent enemies at once, seemed to get irritated at each other for petty things...dont remember when hatred turned to affinity......&lt;br /&gt;Chetana was very unemotional, quite unlike the majority of women, especially at that age...but she was most caring, responsible and affectionate, yet not very demonstrative......thats precisely why it wet my eyes when she looked forlornly at me at the last day of SSLC exam, i was shifting to kerala in a week....and that meant adieu to our friendship....&lt;br /&gt;We did keep in touch through letters...... she is married and settled in the US since a year now....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was Ajey hegde who was the naughtiest in the class, can still hear Shahin ma'am scolding him for his pranks...he has turned out to be a Chemical engineer working at Mumbai...Sharath, our school pupil leader...Seema who was so fond of talking about her family and values in life.....Jyothi with her sweet smile...Anitha and Amitha, the most diverse twins i have ever seen...and many more.....&lt;br /&gt;                                          &lt;br /&gt;It didnt feel good when i lost touch with many of them...and it never felt better when i got them back , thanks to the magic of internet......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Life's finest moments are spent in the company of friends'...says an e-card received on a friendship day......indeed, very much so.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
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&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-113756133379676495?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/113756133379676495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=113756133379676495' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/113756133379676495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/113756133379676495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2006/01/those-bonds-of-love.html' title='Those bonds of love'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14478638.post-113583400407747432</id><published>2005-12-29T10:27:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-06T17:43:41.613+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Living with sms'es</title><content type='html'>Yesterday i slept early, at 9 itself with an intention of rising early(although i never make that mistake;) ).Somewhere in between i could hear my mobile phone beeping as it received messages...with sleepy eyes , i pick it up to see who it is....its from my brother(who has lately turned into an sms maniac , he has recharged with the reliance card with which he can send 18,000 sms in 6 months at Rs180, so one sms costs 1 paisa and you have to send an average of 100 sms everyday)..Alright i read his message and suddenely all drowsiness goes away,'Terrorist attack at Indian Institute of Sciences, Bangalore'....ohh...what the hell?..the second beep...'The attack was targeted towards IT professionals'...next one..'1 killed , 4 injured'...i sit up with increasing uneasiness as i hear my father talking on his phone from the adjoining room...'Entha prasnam?...Is anything the matter there?'(apparently he had forwarded the same messages to him too, no wonder he sounded disturbed, more so bcoz a gang of robbers had entered my aunt's home at tvm and threatened and looted them at knife point only a week ago)...Dont know when i drifted to sleep again...in the morning i heard of the terror attack at IIS, b'lore...and the picture was clear...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After stone age, bronze age, iron age, steel age(?)...maybe we are in 'sms' age now...Some 5 years ago, a possessor of a mobile phone was supposed to be very affluent...and for the same reason it was more used for showing off than for communication...but now its the materialising of socialism in the field of mobile phone usage...everyone has one dangling at his/her neck or popping out of shirt pockets or purses...and then the world of missed calls and smses...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must admit that i am getting very much addicted to sms'es...every time the phone beeps...i am all inquisitive to know if it's one of those funny sms'es which pull your leg , which keep getting forwarded(like emails...but it has a better and a more instant effect than fwded mails)...In short sms'es have lighted up my days than any single person has , since sometime now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when i keep giggling looking at my phone screen, my father shakes his head bewildered 'Innathe kaalathe pillerkkellam vattaanoo deivame!!?'...Well i cant make him understand :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
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&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-113583400407747432?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/113583400407747432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=113583400407747432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/113583400407747432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/113583400407747432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/12/living-with-smses.html' title='Living with sms&apos;es'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-113496926501720509</id><published>2005-12-19T10:40:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-06T18:13:34.960+05:30</updated><title type='text'>7 years in tibet</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/1600/7yearsintibet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/320/7yearsintibet.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend was not exactly the usual montonous one after all, my brother organised a virtual 'film festival' for me by saving 4 movies on our home pc, 2 hindi and 2 english. Its the first movie which left a mark on me...'7 years in Tibet'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it was released in 1997 , and won Brad Pitt the oscar for the best actor...and did he do some acting!!...The movie is based on the book '7 years in Tibet' by Heinrich Harrer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brad Pitt plays Heinrich's role, he leaves his homeland Austria on an expedition to climb the highest mountain ranges, 'The Himalayas', very much against his young wife's wishes who is soon expecting their first child.The year is 1939. His team gets arrested on the Himalayas, by the British army and they are send to a P.O.W camp at Dehra Dun...It was the time when the second world war had just begun...and Austria and Britain were on opposite sides....He receives a letter from his wife , Ingrid from Austria which reads as follows: "Dear Heinrich , Please sign the divorce papers and send them to my lawyer.Horst and I intend to be married as soon as the divorce is finalized.As for your letter,yes,Rolf Harrer was born while you were climbing the mountain.He is now two years old and calls Horst papa.When he is old enough, i will tell him his real father was lost in the Himalayas.It seems the kindest thing to say as you never wanted the child anyway.Needless to say I have to intentions resolving our differences as you suggested.They were resolved the moment you left Austria.I'm sorry you have been imprisoned in India and hope this dreadful war would soon be over for everyone's sake." A frustrated Heinrich tries to escape from the prison camps, he makes so many futile attempts and gets caught by the british guards everytime....still his spirits remain unshaken as ever...Finally he manages to escape with a few of his fellow prisoners...but only he and his friend Peter Aufschnaiter manage to remain uncaptured....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then follows a long period of battle against hunger,starvation and the biting cold in one of the coldest places on earth...Heinrich and Peter , finally manage to escape into Tibet, so that they are away from British India, as long as the war lasts.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tibet and its people especially at that being closed to the outside world,has been depicted with all glory.Their unique customs and religious beliefs,all pertaining to the core of Buddhism are a spectacle to behold. Peter falls in love with a beautiful Tibetan girl and marries her.And Heinrich feels as lonely as ever.The 14th Dalai lama was then only 14 years old, but he was already a well learned scholar in Buddhist scriptures.He is attracted to Heinrich and they become intimate friends , curtailing all the Tibetan customs of treating the Lama as a divine reincarnation, they have intimate chats in the Lama's chamber.Heinrich helps him to build a movie house as per his wishes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then follows the Chinese attack on the peaceloving Tibetans and how the clan who couldnt hurt a worm,had to take up arms to defend the callousness of the Communist China.The way they respect their enemies!!....we wouldnt think of honouring our close friends so much so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some excerpts from the movie:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dalai Lama: We have a saying in Tibet: If a problem can be solved there is no use worrying about it. If it can't be solved, worrying will do no good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr width="30%"&gt;&lt;a name="qt0042090"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;[&lt;i class="fine" &gt;On the Himalayas&lt;/i&gt;]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b &gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: A place rich with all the strange beauty of your nighttime dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr width="30%"&gt;&lt;a  name="qt0042091"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;Construction worker&lt;/b&gt;: In a past life this worm could have been your mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr width="30%"&gt;&lt;a  name="qt0042092"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dalai Lama&lt;/b&gt;: Do you think someday people will get Tibet on their movie screens and wonder what happened to us?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr width="30%"&gt;&lt;a name="qt0042093"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jigme is the Tibetan minister who betrayed his people to the Chinese, by destroying all the ammunition they had and surrendering to the Chinese.Heinrich returns the jacket which he had given him as a gift, to express his contempt for the man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ngawang Jigme&lt;/b&gt;: After all these years you still don't understand our Tibetan ways. To return a gift is unforgivable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: A man who betrays his culture shouldn't preach about its customs. There was a time I would have wished you dead but your shame will be your torture and your torture will be your life. I wish it to be long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr width="30%"&gt;&lt;a  name="qt0042095"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr  width="30%"&gt;&lt;a  name="qt0042096"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dalai Lama&lt;/b&gt;: ...You can not ask a devout people to disregard a precious teaching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: Yes but Your Holiness, with due respect, erm, we can't possibly&lt;br /&gt;[&lt;i class="fine"&gt;laughs&lt;/i&gt;]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: I'm sorry, but we can't possibly save all the worms! Not if you want a theater in this lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dalai Lama&lt;/b&gt;: You have a clever mind. Think of a solution. And in the meantime you can explain to me, what is an elevator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr  width="30%"&gt;&lt;a  name="qt0042097"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: It's strange to me that something so harmless as a jacket could symbolize such a great lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr  width="30%"&gt;&lt;a  name="qt0042098"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: There was a time that I would have wished you dead but your shame shall be your torture and your torture will be your life! I wish it to be long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr  width="30%"&gt;&lt;a  name="qt0042099"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr width="30%"&gt;&lt;a  name="qt0042100"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr  width="30%"&gt;&lt;a  name="qt0042101"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;Peter Aufschnaiter&lt;/b&gt;: Oh, by the way, I heard the Japanese have retreated all the way back to Shanghai. So even if you make it to the Chinese border you may have difficulties catching up with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: I don't care if they've retreated all the way back to Tokyo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Peter Aufschnaiter&lt;/b&gt;: You should if you want to get back to Austria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: But I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Peter Aufschnaiter&lt;/b&gt; You don't what?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: Plan to go back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Peter Aufschnaiter&lt;/b&gt;: Why not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: No particular reason. But when you get there tell my wife that two years in prison camp is roughly equal ant to four years of marriage and I'm glad to be free of them both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr  width="30%"&gt;&lt;a  name="qt0042102"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr  width="30%"&gt;&lt;a  name="qt0042103"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt; Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: In this place where time stands still it seems like everything is moving. Including me. I can't say I know where I'm going nor if my bad deeds can be purified. There are so many things I have done that I regret. But when I come to a full stop I hope you understand that the distance between us is not as great as it seems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr  width="30%"&gt;&lt;a  name="qt0042104"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt; Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: That's the Olympic gold medal. Not important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pema Lhaki(Peter's Tibetan wife)&lt;/b&gt;: This is another great difference between our civilization and yours. You admire the man who pushes his way to the top in any walk of life, while we admire the man who abandons his ego.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dalai Lama&lt;/b&gt;: Do you listen to news from your country?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: From Austria? No, not really. Give me some light, Kundun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dalai Lama&lt;/b&gt;: Why? It's your home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: Not anymore it isn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dalai Lama&lt;/b&gt;: But don't you have friends and family there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: A few friends, no family. Keep the light steady, your Holiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dalai Lama&lt;/b&gt;: Why? Is everyone dead?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: Do you know there's another way a sentence can be constructed than a question? I was married but I'm divorced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dalai Lama&lt;/b&gt;: What did you do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: I didn't want a child so I ran away to climb a mountain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr  width="30%"&gt;&lt;a  name="qt0042106"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dalai Lama&lt;/b&gt; I can't sleep. I'm afraid the dream might come back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: A couple of insomniacs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dalai Lama&lt;/b&gt;: Tell me a story, Heinrich. Tell me a story about climbing mountains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: That's one way to fall asleep. Those stories bore even me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dalai Lama&lt;/b&gt;: Then tell me what you love about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: The absolute simplicity. That's what I love. When you're climbing your mind is clear and free from all confusions. You have focus. And suddenly the light becomes sharper, the sounds are richer and you're filled with the deep, powerful presence of life. I've only felt that one other time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dalai Lama&lt;/b&gt;: When?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: In your presence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have to leave. You have to leave Tibet, Kundun. Your life's at great risk. Forgive my presumption but I have made arrangements to get you out safely. We should leave directly after the enthronement, the Chinese won't expect it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dalai Lama&lt;/b&gt;: How can I help people if I run away from them? What kind of leader would I be? I have to stay here, Heinrich. Serving others is my path to deliberation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: Then I don't go either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dalai Lama&lt;/b&gt;: Why not?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: Because you are my path to deliberation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dalai Lama&lt;/b&gt;: The Buddha said 'Salvation doesn't come from the sight of me. It demands strenuous effort and practise. So work hard and seek your own salvation constantly.' I am not your son. And I've never thought of you as my father. You've been much too informal to me for that. Do you ever think about him?&lt;br /&gt;[&lt;i class="fine" &gt;Heinrich cries, nodding&lt;/i&gt;]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dalai Lama&lt;/b&gt;: And what do you think about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heinrich Harrer&lt;/b&gt;: It's not a conscious thought really, Kundun. He is always there. When I crossed Tibet he was with me. When I came to Lhasa he was with me. When I sit beside you he is there with me. I can't even imagine how to picture the world without him in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally after the war, Heinrich returns to Austria in 1945 and meets his reluctant son of 7 years with a musical box which the Lama had given for the same with his blessings and his prayers and he gets his son back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To conclude, its one of the best movies i ever happened to watch and will remain in my heart for ever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-113496926501720509?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/113496926501720509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=113496926501720509' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/113496926501720509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/113496926501720509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/12/7-years-in-tibet.html' title='7 years in tibet'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-113410537761512526</id><published>2005-12-09T09:55:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T10:45:59.543+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Sleeping Habits</title><content type='html'>Last week me and achan went to a furniture shop at Kaloor and bought a new cot and mattress for me....and i got promoted from the bed on which i had lay as an infant,even soiled it at some places 24 years ago....well, achan would never let go of it....so the dear bed had some travelling experiences as it accompanied me and parents first to gujarath then to goa,then mangalore(enjoying the service of the Indian Railway and several carriage lorries and trucks 'en route').Achan even carried it to Lakshadweep in the ship!!... a year ago when he got promoted to Kochi office...my bed came with him...i joined him 6 months ago and my bed and myself were reunited after a long separation....alright, so i am sleeping on my new bed now......My dreams seemed to have multipied ever since i shifted to it.....&lt;br /&gt;                                                       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; When i say sleeping is my 'hobby',I am not at all being one bit exaggerative. I am always on the lookout for excuses, so that I can crawl into a question mark on my bed.&lt;br /&gt;I feel happy  ----&gt;I go and sleep to celebrate my happiness....&lt;br /&gt;I feel sad/moodoff/depressed  ----&gt; I seek abode in my bed again which i hope will relieve the tension.....&lt;br /&gt; When i got a job after staying at home for several months after B-tech,the first remark amma made was ......"ahaa, ini ninakku eppozhum moodi puthachu orangaan pattillalloo..." she seemed delighted about it, and my brother gave one of his vicious smiles.By the way, his assigned name to me is 'Kumbhakarni'(supposed to be the female gender of 'Kumbhakarnan', the brother of Ravanan who had a curse on him that he would sleep all his life).If anyone asks my brother where to find me...he replies promptly, "She must have gone into 'hibernation'....avalude kattilil nokkuu aadyam, avide illengil shambuvinte aduthu kaanum"(shambu is my pet pomeranian dog).After i got infected by the internet mania he would suggest looking for me in front of the PC as a third choice.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Cats are supposed to spent 16-18 hours a day sleeping.Achan says I have long before bypassed all cats and I turn sheepish when he advises me not to waste the prime of my life sleeping, I may even suffer a nervous breakdown!!, then he goes on to the merits of early rising with his favourite adage 'Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy,wealthy and wise' :)...Hmm....he knows as well as I do , that not all the preaching in the world would make the slightest effect on me as far as sleeping is concerned:)...paavam....He is the exact opposite of me, he is wide awake at 5.30 am or before that,now that i am staying with him....i cant help complaining about him, the first thing that he does on getting up would be to put on all the lights, then go to the kitchen and drag and shift all the empty vessels to make that 'cling cling' noise, next he puts on the TV , radio, CD player and what no t, at considerably loud volume..hoping against hope that possibly i could not sustain this cacophony for a long time and would result in my getting up....alas he is wrong...i would snuggle behind my blanket till 7 .am and then get up reluctantly, coz i should be helping him to make breakfast unlike the case with amma(she is the one person whom i have assumed as my right to take for granted).....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; My long sleeping tenures have awarded me with vivid dreams....am pretty sure nobody could see all the set of dreams i have seen :)......while in school all characters from science,maths and socialstudies would make my dreams...Once i was in the INA with Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose, on another ocassion our immediate neighbour was Bill Clinton, Raja Ram Mohan Roy paid us a visit at our home....maybe i will stop here before the reader gets serious doubts about the sanity of my subconscious mind:)......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Well, well and well...i cannot stop smiling when people say they dont take tea or coffee at night bcoz sleep escapes them.....i virtually live on tea and coffee(a habit inherited from my mom) irrespective of day and night and i guess i have grown resistant to ' caffeine' .....bcoz sleep, for once, never eludes me....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
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&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-113410537761512526?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/113410537761512526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=113410537761512526' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/113410537761512526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/113410537761512526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/12/sleeping-habits.html' title='Sleeping Habits'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-113384797347044890</id><published>2005-12-06T10:27:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T10:52:11.890+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The Sea of Change</title><content type='html'>All the world's a stage,&lt;br /&gt;And all the men and women merely players :&lt;br /&gt;They have their exits and they have their entrances;&lt;br /&gt;And one man in his time plays many parts ,&lt;br /&gt;His act being seven ages . At first the infant,&lt;br /&gt;Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.&lt;br /&gt;And then the whining school boy , with his satchel&lt;br /&gt;And shining morning face , creeping like snail&lt;br /&gt;Unwilling to school . And then the lover ,&lt;br /&gt;Sighing like furnace , with a woeful ballad&lt;br /&gt;Made to his mistress' eyebrow.Then a soldier ,&lt;br /&gt;Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,&lt;br /&gt;Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,&lt;br /&gt;Seeking the bubble reputation&lt;br /&gt;Even in the cannon's mouth . And then the justice,&lt;br /&gt;In fair round belly with good capon lined,&lt;br /&gt;With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,&lt;br /&gt;Full of wise saws and modern instances;&lt;br /&gt;And so he plays his part . The sixth age shifts&lt;br /&gt;Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon ,&lt;br /&gt;With spectacles on nose and pounch on side,&lt;br /&gt;His youthful hose , well saved , a world too wide&lt;br /&gt;For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice ,&lt;br /&gt;Turning again toward childish treble , pipes&lt;br /&gt;And whistles in his sound . Last scene of all ,&lt;br /&gt;That ends this strange eventful history,&lt;br /&gt;Is second childishness and mere oblivion ,&lt;br /&gt;Sans teeth, sans eyes , sans taste, sans everything .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-William Shakspeare in 'As You Like It'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing thats very difficult to put up with , in life is its changing phases. I have always had problems accepting that i was no more in carefree childhood once i got to my teens and yet again when i crossed that one into the next...Always feel weird when i read e-mails from childhood chums relating to how their husbands/wives/children/inlaws are , as the case maybe. In my mind they always remain as the little kids with whom i played hide and seek or quarelled for a 'Tinkle' or a 'Champak'.....it somehow makes me feel insecure that they are no more in that role as much as i am not...Everyone seems to adapt to these transitions with so much grace...but i had always hated losing things..however small and trivial they might seem to be....Amma once in a while reprimands me for turning our home into something like a junkyard , coz i had stacked so many of my precious belongings from my past...notebooks from primary school upto engineering,water bottles, tiffin boxes, pencil boxes...its and endless list...my brother says i must be nuts to hold on to all this garbage...cant blame him...after all i am not quite like him...As much as i hold on to things i have to let them go....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now comes the most difficult phase , perhaps the most important,the most difficult and the most feared/longed......'Marriage'......Almost all my friends (with only a few exceptions : the number gets low everyday) have tied the matrimonial knot....majority of them already within it, some are anticipating....i maybe joining them in a year...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can never ever make a fair choice which is better, the single life which promises loneliness but is also free from responsibilities....or the married one which promises companionship but demands several new roles to be played with care... i guess i am being greedy:) i want the best of both...and its not possible to get a rose without thorns...Maybe i will let time decide for me , as it has always done.....Meanwhile i can prepare myself for the immediate change that my role will have to undertake , emotionally and otherwise.........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
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&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-113384797347044890?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/113384797347044890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=113384797347044890' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/113384797347044890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/113384797347044890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/12/sea-of-change.html' title='The Sea of Change'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-113143038105799251</id><published>2005-11-08T11:03:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T10:54:00.706+05:30</updated><title type='text'>'The little roads to joy'</title><content type='html'>I had been in the Janasatabdi express , last friday evening, as usual on my way to trivandrum from eranakulam to spend my weekend at home......My co-passengers sitting next to me being two youngmen of my age group.....i was just peering to see what they were so busy with....the two of them exchanging some books and discussing and grinning...:)...just felt curious that they didnt even notice me ;) or anybodyelse next to us......then i saw their objects of interest....one of the guys was immersed in a "Balarama" and the other in a malayalam film magazine,"Chitrabhoomi".Somehow my neighbours had some intution of my yearning to get a look at the magazines (meant exclusively for children:)), and they passed them to me......and i am face to face with kuttoosan, dakini, maayavi , luttappii and many such dear ones again.......I never knew i was so much in love with 'Balarama' and 'Poompaata' as i used to be in childhood.......I felt as if the train i was in ,was taking me back in time and not home.....................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Flash Back:&lt;br /&gt;The thought of a railway station was almost analogous to the idea of getting to read children's comics and story books....In those days i was officially known as a bookworm....Begin a summer vacation and our celebrated journeys from mangalore to trivandrum......The 'Malabar Express' would leave the station at 6.15 pm,but we would set out from our quarters at about 2.30pm,and our journey to m'lore rly stn would take us just 45 minutes even if we came in a bullockcart!....but achan had some really incredible ideas,what if the taxi got punctured? or what if there was a traffic jam?.....these are only a few of his fears......my bro even complained that his time allowance was enough for us to even manufacture a new car(in case the present one brokedown:)) anyway any of this never happened..and we were always at the station at 3 pm..and latest by 3.30....Achan wouldnt rest till he had the porters carry all of our 'little' luggage to the correct platform...and settled their account after a nice bargain.......Me and brother would be devouring the many books bought from the counter of 'HigginBothams'...............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming back to the present, i realise once again that there is nothing like the simplicity of childhood.....Oh..why did we have to make our lives so complicated and difficult??.....By and far each one of us is a different version of a hypocrite....we ignore what our heart wants...and imagine ourselves to be complex beings in a yet more complex world.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to subscribe 'balarama' again and wait for wednesdays to arrive as i used to once....even my younger bro agrees with me on that.......Its high time that we recognize the little sweet things which make life worth living....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
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&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-113143038105799251?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/113143038105799251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=113143038105799251' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/113143038105799251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/113143038105799251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/11/little-roads-to-joy.html' title='&apos;The little roads to joy&apos;'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-113031424109871567</id><published>2005-10-26T13:30:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T10:56:58.783+05:30</updated><title type='text'>On your birthday..........</title><content type='html'>This describes the thoughts of a girl-The next day is her guy’s birthday. When the whole world is asleep, she stays awake. Both of them had to be separated due to some cause. She thinks about the lovely days when both of them were together- sharing their joys and sorrows. But however hard she tries, she cannot forget him and she has nothing to give him on his birthday other than her heartfelt note, in the end she also adds that she wants him to be happy- that’s why she says that she is ready to take all his sorrows and to give him all her happiness.&lt;br /&gt;When this day comes to a dark end,&lt;br /&gt;For the bright beginning of the next morn,&lt;br /&gt;When the song of night lulls men to sleep,&lt;br /&gt;I stay awake here, just for you!&lt;br /&gt;Your day is fast approaching,&lt;br /&gt;Just a few minutes are left ahead,&lt;br /&gt;When you are amidst your dear ones,&lt;br /&gt;When you receive their lovely gifts,&lt;br /&gt;I’ve none but this heartfelt note.&lt;br /&gt;You may take it as a gift, or just a stranger’s note.&lt;br /&gt;The bygone days are gone forever, I know,&lt;br /&gt;But there are certain questions&lt;br /&gt;Which still remain unanswered,&lt;br /&gt;Why did you wipe out my tears?&lt;br /&gt;Why did you broaden my smile?&lt;br /&gt;Was it to let me drown,&lt;br /&gt;Deep in an ocean of tears?&lt;br /&gt;Though we are trying to forget each other,&lt;br /&gt;How will I forget your day?&lt;br /&gt;And on this lovely occasion, I tell you my dear,&lt;br /&gt;Let all your tears be mine&lt;br /&gt;And all my smile be yours,&lt;br /&gt;Here’s all my happiness,&lt;br /&gt;Take it, for it’s yours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
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&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-113031424109871567?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/113031424109871567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=113031424109871567' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/113031424109871567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/113031424109871567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/10/on-your-birthday.html' title='On your birthday..........'/><author><name>sind</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03659750005824552425</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-112806479515227093</id><published>2005-09-30T13:46:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T10:58:30.750+05:30</updated><title type='text'>In a Lighter Vein......</title><content type='html'>My absent-mindedness is well acclaimed....atleast to my family and a very few close friends....since childhood.....there are many many cases which might seem quite funny to the onlookers..but it wasnt that hilarious for me...:)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instance 1 :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father has just returned from market..and has left the vegetables and goods that he bought on the dining table for mom to sort.....&lt;br /&gt;i am a primary school student....roaming around with some book in hand....my younger brother pestering me to play robber and police with him....am trying my best to shoo him away..and concentrate on the story i am reading.....&lt;br /&gt;After a while mom comes to father and asks him why he didnt buy eggs from market inspite of her constantly reminding him.....&lt;br /&gt;He says he did buy them..and had even noticed the shopkeeper place it in his bag....mom says she didnt find any...father gets up from the chair on which he had been resting...and comes..to the dining room...then he remembers..he had taken out the packet of eggs and kept it on the nearby chair ..incase someone broke it while taking out other things....&lt;br /&gt;And that chair has another occupant at the time....me!!!(fully engrossed in my book of course).....father asks me to get up....and lo and behold....... the poor crushed eggs beneath.......&lt;br /&gt;I got a good beating that day....&lt;br /&gt;But after Thomas Alva Edison ,who in his childhood is said to have sat on eggs to see if he could make them hatch like the mother hen......the honour goes to me......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instance 2 :&lt;br /&gt;Everyone except me is at the dining table, my brother is extra hungry and wants to eat at once....but mom is surprised that she cant find her bowl of cooked rice....each of the curries was very much there....what could have happened to the rice alone??...me and bro had shipped the dishes from kitchen to dining table as per mom's order....father gets suspicious....he calls me..and asks what i did with the vessels given to me...i reply innocently that i put them on the table....but my face says that i am not sure....he gets up..walks towards the refrigerator..pulls it open to reveal our dear rice bowl sitting inside:).......&lt;br /&gt;I am red faced as ever.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post is dedicated to the many countless umbrellas, handkerchiefs and erasers and pencilboxes that were separated from me...in my lifetime........all bcoz i was too much of Miss AbsentMinded....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
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&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-112806479515227093?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/112806479515227093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=112806479515227093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112806479515227093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112806479515227093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/09/in-lighter-vein.html' title='In a Lighter Vein......'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-112737345982332033</id><published>2005-09-22T12:09:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T10:59:39.406+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Knowing Thyself</title><content type='html'>Came across a wallpaper that said "You cannot set the course for where you want to go, unless you know where you are...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It made me think about how ignorant i was about knowing myself........i had always been perplexed about what i wanted with life in general.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wanted happiness, wanted to do meaningful things, do things which would set me apart from the crowd,give me mental satisfaction, and in all i wanted to be one of those rare people who made a difference to the routine monotonous life they lived in......but the funny thing about it is that i dont know what exactly would bring about all this.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At times i feel that it is money that matters most in this world...and then i think i must opt for a career and a way of life which would bring in lots of money...and with it all the importance and power it brings in....but then i was seldom attracted by luxuries...they havent meant much to me ever......and i have found myself most uncomfortable in the midst of extravagant comforts.....so its not pots of money that i want after all....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be with friends and people who understand and reciprocate positively about the way i feel about things and appreciated my presence ......that part was never under my control....people come and go....you have to just stay aside and acknowledge each of them......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there is this spiritual inclination from early childhood....about restricting yourself to methods and conventions..like meditation and such which would bring about peace and control of mind..and ultimately lead to self realization and salvation from this world....but i havent stuck to it continuously ever....keep making detours...until one more failure or emotional breakdown brings me back.......its been like that always......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bit of patriotism which got into my head from the school where i studied, where we were taught that it was simply great to live and die for one's country.....and i want my nation to be a forerunner in all aspects.....i myself want to be part of it....yet again i dont very much know how........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At times i want to be a writer( a reader first:)).....although i am not very much confident how much sense it would make to others ..as to what i write..:)....but i do think too much...and if i dont write..so much of my valuable musings would be going down the drain :).....thats bad..isnt it??................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish i would know answers to at least some of these, sometime from now.....so that when its time to die.....i get the feeling that...after all it was worthwhile.............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-112737345982332033?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/112737345982332033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=112737345982332033' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112737345982332033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112737345982332033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/09/knowing-thyself.html' title='Knowing Thyself'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-112711860303390774</id><published>2005-09-19T13:53:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T11:01:05.186+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Something out of the way.....</title><content type='html'>Atleast once in your lifetime you get a tremendous shock that shakes you all over..I had just had one...today..just watched my beliefs and theories go up in smoke....I had till a little while ago been the proud owner of 24 years of observation and analysis of human behaviour..and i thought i knew too much....there goes all my pride.....god has shown me how insignificant i am..and how limited my horizon of thoughts could be.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had had the singular pleasure of getting closely acquainted with a unique human specimen......and to think that i had been treating him like other normal humanbeings....when all the time......he was so entirely different.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my theories which have failed him is this...i had this impression that there couldnt be a single living- being in this world...which could resist love and compassion...why, i have seen even animals ,wild animals responding genuinely to affection and kindness........ maybe its a rule of nature that there should be an exception to every law or theorem......just to show us that we could never be perfect.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all "Perfection is a journey ....." as one of my good friends once quoted.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-112711860303390774?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/112711860303390774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=112711860303390774' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112711860303390774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112711860303390774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/09/something-out-of-way.html' title='Something out of the way.....'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-112697432078822599</id><published>2005-09-17T21:50:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T17:10:38.926+05:30</updated><title type='text'>a memorable farewell - II</title><content type='html'>the thing that was bothering me most was whether i should include names or not...&lt;br /&gt;after all...this ain't a fairy tale.&lt;br /&gt;a story needs characters...so after much deliberations i have decided to name some of 'em..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so pickin up from where i left......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anoop was driving , kk the owner of the vehicle(well...i suppose, u cud say..his dad was the owner) was sitting in the front ... me vivek and another frnd was sitting in the back...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we left from our college and was going to the next big hangout place... that was the only place where was hadn't made our prescence felt... we had to mess up the farewells there also.... we were on our last mission ...on way to conquer the last frontier... and conquer it we wud..at least thats what we thought...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as we were approaching a junction ..(jose junction near hotbreads) we had to take the left turn ...so anoop put on the left indicator, it was then that sum1 noticed a pair standing on the road on the right side..and he shouted to anoop "vandi odikkedaaaa right ilottu" .... anoop suddenly veered right with the left indicator on....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then it happened....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-112697432078822599?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/112697432078822599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=112697432078822599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112697432078822599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112697432078822599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/09/memorable-farewell-ii.html' title='a memorable farewell - II'/><author><name>neeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02317643215792981139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-112464368934935310</id><published>2005-09-03T22:17:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T17:13:40.980+05:30</updated><title type='text'>a memorable farewell.........</title><content type='html'>the mother of all farewells...&lt;br /&gt;that was how it was meant to be...&lt;br /&gt;we wanted it to be the best... people wud talk bot it 4 years to come....&lt;br /&gt;we did make it the best...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there werent many things we didnt do in college..&lt;br /&gt;but one thing that nobody had done was.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and finally some one had the guts to do it..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there were broken hearts everywhere...and we used to b the heartless guys who wud mess up their sweet farewells...&lt;br /&gt;we never gave them privacy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just like the dog in "bobanum moliyum" we used 2 b there in every frame..it never mattered to us if they wanted us in or not...&lt;br /&gt;and then things began to take a turn for the worse...&lt;br /&gt;the problem that wud haunt us for weeks to come ....&lt;br /&gt;it was the van... a maruti omni van...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was in the back seat enjoying the music...which was played out very loud&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to be continued.........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-112464368934935310?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/112464368934935310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=112464368934935310' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112464368934935310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112464368934935310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/09/memorable-farewell.html' title='a memorable farewell.........'/><author><name>neeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02317643215792981139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-112512741428959774</id><published>2005-08-27T14:25:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T17:17:10.946+05:30</updated><title type='text'>'Summer Vacations'</title><content type='html'>Summer Vacations….. the whole of April and May every year..was the period most sought after, me and brother looking forward to it all through the academic year. We went through the annual exams in March taking comfort that it’s the final trial and the vacations are just round the corner..after all..”If winter comes, can spring be far behind?”..the only difference being it was the hot summer ahead. &lt;br /&gt;There would be a week's delay in our journey to trivandrum bcoz achan had to settle things at office.Those days were spent eating mangoes ..seated on folding chairs in the back courtyard of the quarters..lots of mango trees around..gentle sea breeze now and then ..immersed in lots of tinkles,amar chitrakathas, famous fives, secret sevens and later nancy drews and hardy boys..looking up only to throw away mango seeds ..amma would come and join us for a break from household chores….i remember her remarking..that we were in Santhiniketan of Tagore with the ‘Sarayu’ flowing past..only it was the ‘Oda’which took the waste water from the kitchen :) &lt;br /&gt;We make our historic journeys in the much loved ‘Malabar Express’ which my brother later renamed to ‘Malabar Kaalavandi’ as he felt it took it forever to reach trivandrum. The train pulling up at Trivandrum station and achan hurrying to find enough porters to carry our little luggage that included four pillows for each of us :).There would be either one of my two uncles waiting with a car to take us home..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of an hour’s journey we land at home..ammomma comes to greet us crying and smiling altogether..and her favourite remark after eyeing me and bro critically..’randu peerum aake ksheenichalloo?’ and then she turns an accusing glance at amma as if she had been starving us :)..there was seldom much truth about that..it was always her love ..and we were her favourite grandparents always..much to the envy of our cousins ..my brother has an excellent sense of smell..he announces that he can smell chicken curry and also paayasam and many more things..amma forces him into the bathroom which he reluctantly obeys..i go wandering about..examining how much has changed since last when I had been there..little plants were grown up trees..new shops by the road side….in the background I can hear ammomma recounting how many people were recently dead , who all married, details about our rubber plantations and its tapping,and how she was getting old and sick and couldn’t manage everything alone..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cousin ‘Kunji’ would be waiting patiently for our arrival..she was an only child..so it meant a lot to her when we made it home. She is my brother’s age..four years younger to me and six months younger to my brother...a real kaanthaari and prankster then :).&lt;br /&gt;‘Kunjiyum Inganum’ that’s how they were referred to..’Ingan’ was my bro’s nickname and he was a real paavam..and Kunji would order him what to do ,she was always commanding taken after her father a bit :).. She inspired him to climb up the numerous window bars upto the ceiling….she virtually created a havoc all the time she was there..her home was next door..but the moment she woke up she would coerce uncle to take her to ours..i can still see her coming holding on to her dad’s arm and holding a toothbrush in the other and ..brushing ,bathing ,eating and sleeping were all with us..in between when they quarreled..my brother would shout at her ‘neeyenthina ente veetill nikkunnathu?..nee poo..enikku ninne ishtamilla’..and suddenely she stops fighting and begs him not to tell uncle about whatever mischief she had done, he would take her home..and she didn’t want to be home at all…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dramas were enacted…story, screenplay and casting all were done by me :) ..we performed behind close doors..once we were in the middle of our favourite one .. me as a rigid and stubborn hostel warden and the other two as hostelites who played tricks on the warden..the light went off and my brother took up the opportunity to creep up behind ‘kunji’ and scream in her ear.And she shrieked so loudly that not only everyone from our home but also the neighbours came rushing……..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inpsired by the' secret seven' and 'famous five'….we conducted tea parties……me and brother pestered amma into buying packets and packets of bread,butter,jam ..we couldn’t really have gingerbeer and such stuff..so we settled with whatever was available.And the time for the party was set..’Kunji’ had agreed to bring her toy tea set..amma wouldn’t give us the real one..saying we would break it….she was really annoying at times…As the auspicious moment arrived..it started to rain heavily ..oh..now what if kunji doesn’t come??...our party would be ruined without her and her tea pot!!..Amma remarks pessimistically that she wont come..and warns that if we don’t eat up all the things we have forced her into buying, she will teach us a lesson….We get more and more worried …but then somebody walking up to our house with an umbrella in hand in the pouring rain...as the person came nearer..we recognize her..its ‘Bindu’ mami….and beside her a little creature with her hands tightly around her tea set:)....dear darling kunjii..no matter how much we ill treated her at times..and how much we quarrelled..she would never go back on her promise..or let us down..she was plentifully naughty, true, but she adored us very much…And we conducted our party behind closed doors..and discussed important things like going exploring around the abandoned house nearby..what if there were hidden treasures which people had forgotten to come back for(as it happened in stories :)) or atleast there would be maps saying go 10 feet north..then 5 feet south.. you reach a well ..go down ..and there will be a box full of gold coins and ingots!!..:)….We did go ..but kunji was too frightened that snakes would spring up at her from the overgrown bushes and she started crying….and sadly we had to abandon our quest there..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-112512741428959774?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/112512741428959774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=112512741428959774' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112512741428959774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112512741428959774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/08/summer-vacations.html' title='&apos;Summer Vacations&apos;'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-112291924098473964</id><published>2005-08-15T20:21:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-04-11T16:53:44.613+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The happiest day of my life......</title><content type='html'>they say the hardest things in life to forget are the ones that you really want to forget...&lt;br /&gt;it couldnt be more true in my case&lt;br /&gt;there was one incident that i'll never forget no matter how hard i try...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was one dull day...so i woke up my cousin from sleep and dragged him to play football behind our house... you wont be able to gauge the story in all its worth unless i give a background of our house location..&lt;br /&gt;so here it goes....&lt;br /&gt;it was surrounded by dense trees on all 3 sides...only the front side was clear..my house's name is pamban...and as it is, there are lots of snakes around...no kidding. .the silence of the night wud always be broken by the shrill howl of foxes... so nobody ventured out in the dark.. there was a small clearing near our house where we used to play football when daylight broke through the vegetation... and that was where it all happened...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and so we started playing ... while chasing the ball my foot accidently slipped into a hole and when i withdrew it there was blood oozing ... the blood was coming from a small puncture wound. the first thing that came to my mind was "oh no.. it's a snake bite wound". it did look exactly like a snake bite.. when you are 8 years old ...only the worst and horrible thoughts come to your mind...&lt;br /&gt;my immediate conclusion was ..."oh god...i was going to die"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we stopped playing and went inside the house..i was soooo worried didnt drink nor eat anything ..and i was shaking all over...because the wound was just a puncture mark, nobody noticed it..... i didnt tell anybody thinking that my mom wont b able to bear the truth...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but my cousin coudnt wait for long..he knew that if we waited then all wud b in vain...he told his mom about the incident and then there was a lot of commotion ...there were no men in our house then as everybody had gone for work and unlike nowdays there was no cell phn around so it was impossible to contact someone on the move....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at that time my moms brother came to our house and when he saw what the commotion was all about , he immediately asked me to take a pee...i thought he had gone nuts...telling me to urinate when i was about to die...then he explained that if i was bitten then i wudnt be able to urinate..... and so i tried ... it was so embarrassing... everybody looking anxiously to see if anything was coming out....thankfully even though i didnt drink much water that day, i was able to let a lil bit out...when he saw this he told everyone that there was no problem with me....but the women of the house were all so scared they told my uncle to take me to a snake doctor...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and so went in an auto ....me telling him all the while that mayb we sud go in a taxi as i might not last the distance...if we didnt reach there on time.....i kept reminding him that my mom wudnt forgive him if something happened to me cus of the auto travel... .and after what seemed an eternity we finally reached there ...the place is called pappinsheri its a very famous place for treating snake bites...they have anti venom stock of almost all the snakes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when we reached there the doc immediately told me to take a pill...a brownish small round tablet.. i took it and waited for the inevitable to happen....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just as i was waiting ....one man was rushed into the room..he was shaking all over and the doc gave him a similar tablet...he swallowed it and after a couple of minutes he promptly vomited it....and then everybody grew dead serious and he was rushed into another room...&lt;br /&gt;it was only later that i came to know that if there was venom inside me then i wud hav vomited the tablet...thank god that i didnt vomit cus of the tension...if i had earlier known bot this i wud have promptly vomited...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we stayed there for a while to do some check ups..after completing those...i was declared venom free.......i was sooo relieved and happy....i was on cloud nine....i had never felt this happy in my entire life ever before ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was the happiest person on earth at that moment....&lt;br /&gt;even though the reason for the happiness was really silly indeed....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-112291924098473964?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/112291924098473964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=112291924098473964' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112291924098473964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112291924098473964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/08/happiest-day-of-my-life.html' title='The happiest day of my life......'/><author><name>neeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02317643215792981139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-112403844118420558</id><published>2005-08-14T22:16:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2011-02-02T20:47:57.287+05:30</updated><title type='text'>"Cast Away"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SRRb0T7Ve4Q/TUl1KPZcmrI/AAAAAAAABoA/hLiMy6B9YCc/s1600/OYSTER.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 314px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SRRb0T7Ve4Q/TUl1KPZcmrI/AAAAAAAABoA/hLiMy6B9YCc/s320/OYSTER.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569111233012734642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of the plus points of achan’s job was that it took him to exciting little places unknown to the rest of the world..and many times we accompanied him on these adventures..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had been in March 1990,achan had to go on an inspection to some LHs in coastal Karnataka.And as amma was reluctant to stay on her own with us kids on her own, we joined him for his one week long tour.The first two halts were Bhatkal and Karwar LHs,mostly similar to our own one.The third one was on a huge rock some kms into the sea from Karwar,which was a port.We went in a steam boatand as we neared the place,we shifted into a small hand paddled boat,there was a staff of the LH accompanying us as a guide.We anchored on the banks of 'Oyster Rock' thats what it was called, all the oysters clinging on to the rocks,with some trees spanning a little land are,waves lashing on all sides,the LH standing majestically on top and the staff quarters right beneath it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The LH as well as the Head Light Keeper’s quarters and the engine room and all were designed by the British almost a century ago.Appeared like a complete musuem,century old glassware and kitchenware, the hearthplace and antique pieces of furniture..it was fun running around inspecting them.Later on top of the LH,with the Arabian sea on all four sides and the mainland far beyond on one side,seemed like we were in the middle of nowhere….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember amma actually did cook up rice and parippu curry and fish fry(one of the staff went fishing exclusively for us :)) that afternoon.There were only three people as staff, they being the only human inhabitants of this tiny island,dared not bring their families, insufficient living facilities held them back. They lived on rainwater collected in a tank during the Monsoons and had to use that all through the year.It was like “Water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As night fell,all the excitement of being in this queer little place dwindled, bcoz there was no electricity.We lit up hurricane lamps and all of a sudden everything looked spooky and eery to me..the sound of the roaring sea below and the chilling quietness..it was entirely different at night time..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was trying to get some sleep, happened to overhear achan telling amma (I always have this habit of unintended listening which hardly brought me much good :))I could hear his voice clear,”the staff here really have a tough time,especially during the monsoons,this tiny island is completely cutoff from the mainland due to the rough sea.All the food and other essentials have to be shipped in before June and then for three consecutive months, nobody risked going out in a small boat into the violent sea.... A few years ago, one of the staff had his family staying with him here, and his seven year old daughter fell ill with ‘Pneumonia’.That being the rainy season , there was no way they could get her medical treatment and she died here.She was buried a few yards away from where we are now.People here say they see her,clad in white, walking past, on the day of her death every year..that day happens to be in this week it seems…Humanbeings who suffer themselves to death, have their souls roaming around without peace..thats what Hindu belief says….” I hear my mother gasping and upset over the little child’s fate, simultaneously a shiver goes down my spine.I try to picturize the unfortunate kid and then I felt I could see a white aparition looking at me through the windowpane…I closed my eyes and prayed that it be morning soon, and was relieved when we left the place, the first thing in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I landed there the previous morning, I had thought I would want to stay in that mysterious place for ever, but now I was the most anxious to bid farewell…this was one of the ironies of life..how your preferences and priorities and likes and dislikes can change with lightening speed, it amazes you sometimes..after all we are on the lookout for happiness and serenity all our lives..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-112403844118420558?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/112403844118420558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=112403844118420558' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112403844118420558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112403844118420558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/08/cast-away.html' title='&quot;Cast Away&quot;'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SRRb0T7Ve4Q/TUl1KPZcmrI/AAAAAAAABoA/hLiMy6B9YCc/s72-c/OYSTER.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14478638.post-112403798971367773</id><published>2005-08-14T22:15:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T17:25:13.296+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Back in 'Time Machine' again..</title><content type='html'>Now when I look back,everything seems so unreal..maybe it should be due to the contrasts life draws up with time….. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first year in KREC school..me in III std, brother in LKG…..achan took us to school every morning..those 15 min of walk along the NH 47 ,traversing a little forest of acacia and eucalyptus trees is quite memorable..achan called that part as ‘Vanavaasam’ and we, the ‘Pandavas’(but there were only three of us :)) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My younger brother was an exceptional child, he never cried or ran out of his class ,very much unlike his classmates who were bringing down the roof…I still remember how he sat like “the Buddha” in his trance , while there was utter chaos around him..kids trying to escape out and teachers running after them to close the doors.In the midst of such a pandamonium ..he opened his tiffin box and ate his biscuits calmly…. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weekends spend playing cricket in the LightHouse compound that ended with someone hitting a six and losing the ball into a pond beneath the rocks on which the LH stood or to the sea on the other side.Chasing frantic crabs all over the beach..collecting shells and conches with Arabic letters encrypted on them..(I was so sure they were :))..and in school monthly unit tests..midterm and annual exams..and then the summer vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By April first week, we packed up and got ready to board the ’Malabar express’..in those days a train meant Malabar express and nothing more to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-112403798971367773?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/112403798971367773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=112403798971367773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112403798971367773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112403798971367773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/08/back-in-time-machine-again.html' title='Back in &apos;Time Machine&apos; again..'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-112291767626114023</id><published>2005-08-01T22:59:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T17:28:04.873+05:30</updated><title type='text'>the golden years....</title><content type='html'>for me.......the golden years wud b the time just before high school..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;every day during our holidays, me and my cousin went hunting for hidden treasures and smugglers...our main locale being the kannur fort...after all, tipu sultan was there , so there was bound to be hidden treasures na?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess , reading too many enid blyton novels at that young age doesnt help either...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we used to stake out at the fort from morning to evening ... sometimes even skipping lunch...such was our dedication and determination to eradicate whatever smugglers there were...&lt;br /&gt;we believed they changed their plans cus they saw us watching..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by cycle&lt;br /&gt;we chased down lorries... to try to uncover the treasures they were smuggling&lt;br /&gt;we chased cars with hidden number plates to catch the kingpins..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we were not going to let them rule our town...this town belonged to us...this was our domain...our kingdom..our world....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when in reality they were the fish lorries and army cars covering their number plates when the majors were not around...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then there was the "ghost to ghost hook up " picked up from alfred hitchcock's 3 investigators..we used to call all our frnds and tell them to call us if they spotted anything suspicious...nothing could be done in that town without us knowing...&lt;br /&gt;the dons had to know...that was the rule....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-112291767626114023?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/112291767626114023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=112291767626114023' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112291767626114023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112291767626114023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/08/golden-years.html' title='the golden years....'/><author><name>neeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02317643215792981139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-112283174456397109</id><published>2005-07-31T23:12:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T17:29:34.083+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Making a Difference...............</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/1600/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/400/1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I need to breakin from my memoirs to talk about something thats simmering within me since last couple of days.Just happened to have an argument with an Indian chat friend working in Dubai (not Neeth of course :)) and I feel I must speak my mind about it.A casual talk about the trip he had to a foreign country in the far middle-east, its a lovely place he says.Me hearing it and feeling a bit envious, wish I could travel around too.Then he makes this statement "They keep it so clean and superb..Indians should learn from them"Somehow that remark hurt a lot even though the stmt was 100% or maybe 200% true.I told him 'dont say Indians..its not somebodyelse..its we..its you and me'.And then he said he hated India,the crowded buses, the roads with gutters, the politicians who are bent on filling up their pockets and nothingelse, the corrupt officers,strikes...no development and nothing called law enforced in the land.He hated our orthodox cultures which had made his parents enforce unjustifiable restrictions on a young man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes.................................................................................&lt;br /&gt;Thats all true..................and theres much more to it.....................................................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We with our stinking cities,hopeless roads and the worst conditioned buses and trains, have nothing much to defend against these allegations.But what hurts is that these come from not a foreigner but from a fellow Indian who found greener pastures and now feels kind of embarassed that he hails from this hated land.&lt;br /&gt;Who is to blame? Nobodyelse but ourselves.Half of our unemployed educated youth are mislead by antisocials or politicians and they end up as a social menace.Unemployment and poverty reigning everywhere, we are nowhere even after 56 years of independence!!.The other half of our better privilleged educated, end up settling in foreign lands,obviously everything is much much better there, why should they sacrifice their lives for a country doomed never to come up.And a good part of the people who go abroad ,enchanted by all the dazzling world in front of them, think themselves in heaven itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is all our self respect gone???? Dont we have any duty towards our motherland!!??How many countless times have we stood with arms outstretched and blurting out"India is my country and all Indians are my brothers and sisters.I love my country and am proved of its rich and varied culture and shall strive to be worthy of it"....thats the pupils pledge we made everyday in school years ago....sadly enough now I feel this oath mocking at me...My younger brother once said about a debate topic at college "Brain Drain is better than brain in the drain".So who is going to make the change?It has to be us..me and you..Everytime we say "this land is never going to prosper, we are questioning our own existence.Because one who doesnt respect or value himself , his parents or his nation can never be expected to command respect from others , bcoz these three are the ones with which one identifies himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patriotism is inherent in all of us.....................its just that uplifting feeling when we cheer the Indian cricket team , Sania Mirza, Leander Paes or Narayan Karthikeyan to win for us.Each one of us need to get that feeling of oneness..then our battle is more than half won.&lt;br /&gt;We never shun our dear home where we lived,laughed and cried and grew up,isnt it, even if its dilapidated and about to crash,we hold on to it with a feeling of affection, thats what we need for our country.All the social maligns that we possess are due to discontentment and selfishness.And we are to eradicate them one by one.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quoting John F Kennedy "Ask not what your country has given you, ask what you gave your country". Even the smallest stone can cause ripples....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
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&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-112283174456397109?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/112283174456397109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=112283174456397109' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112283174456397109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112283174456397109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/07/making-difference.html' title='Making a Difference...............'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-112266161316625152</id><published>2005-07-29T23:25:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T17:39:15.030+05:30</updated><title type='text'>" Turning Point "</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/1600/12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/320/12.jpg" border="0" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And at last we were in Mangalore, Surathkal to be exact, 22kms from the coastal town of Mangalore, carrying a luggage that could support an army battalion(there were 21-25 bags in all i think :))..the railway porters shaking their heads in disbelief when achan tells them that it is all 'palahaaram'(sweets) and nothing more..and indeed they were..my word..I really dont know why ammomma chose such an embarassing way to show her love towards us.:)She had appointed people to cook up tons of 'achappam,murukku,pakkavada,munthirikothu and many others..the list is too long to remember :)Anybody would have thought our sole mission in life is to eat('theettipandarams')..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am fond of travelling and being in new places..so i was kind of elated when we got to our quarters, the lighthouse nearby, thats where achan worked, and the beach and the sea.Me and brother playing our little games and i always had him enchanted with my 'pulu' stories which the poor child simply adored.It was the summer of 1989.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Then one day in late May amma got me ready for an interview at my new school,KREC Eng Med School adjacentto the Regional Engineering College, Surathkal which was just 15 min walk from our home.Achan warned me several times that I should appear smart and a 'midukki' when the teachers interviewed me and not be a 'mindapoocha'.I had my heart beating in my throat when we reached there.I made it a point not to give out a single word other than my name all through the interview and by the end, achan decided that they would advise him to admit me to a school for the deaf and dumb...such was my performance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Enter one of the interview board members and I wait with bated breath for the inevitable to pass through her lips to me..and get me doomed.She said"she is admitted"..later i heard achan saying to amma that it was bcoz i had answered the arithmetic problems correctly,which had been assigned to me during the trial, that i got admission even though i was in 'mute' mode all the time :)...whatever it was..i was relieved that i escaped the scoldings..so much the better!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Thats how i got into KREC school, that small,unassuming place which made me all that I now am..from the trembling , petrified creature..I had a long way to go..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-112266161316625152?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/112266161316625152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=112266161316625152' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112266161316625152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112266161316625152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/07/turning-point.html' title='&quot; Turning Point &quot;'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-112265963716877885</id><published>2005-07-29T23:14:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T17:33:09.960+05:30</updated><title type='text'>" The Unexpected "</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/1600/wallpaper_fn_091.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/400/wallpaper_fn_091.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometime prior to the annual exams that year, achan came on leave from Bombay.He said he was transfered to a place called Mangalore and we were going with him..me , amma &amp;amp; aniyan...and I was shocked!!.I could hear him say that we are to be admitted to a very fine school there, that kids talked in English and all..I felt nervous from head to toe..eventhough the present was an English Medium one ..nobody spoke in English..My God!! how was I going to handle this?? and I lost all peace of mind..a string of nightmares followed about this dreaded school.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
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&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-112265963716877885?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/112265963716877885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=112265963716877885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112265963716877885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112265963716877885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/07/unexpected.html' title='&quot; The Unexpected &quot;'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-112261357504362925</id><published>2005-07-29T10:23:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T17:39:45.310+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The Early Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/1600/image005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 318px; height: 238px;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/320/image005.jpg" border="0" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As long as I can remember, I was homesick like hell and from kindergarten to StdII, the 4 years in Chinmaya Mission school at Trivandrum wasnt a very welcome one.Amma still remembers how i had instant stomachaches and headaches many mornings and how they disappeared as the sound of uncle's bike grew distant(it was he who took me to school :) ).Not much company at school,infact I was a born introvert and very shy in mingling with other kids.Then there was this character of an "all in one tution master"..he was a relative cum neighbour to my family..i never knew why he came exactly when the "Ramayana"was being telecast..(imagine my plight..all the locality is in my home watching it..we were the pioneers in owning a TV set, a B&amp;W one ..which was a very privileged one those days).All the time the tn. master taught, my mind was elsewhere, but then it was not my fault..he chose the wrong time to impart knowledge..so he has to pay with a less attentive student..:)..Thus with frequent genuine and not so genuine illnesses &amp;amp; sick leaves, I completed my second std from school.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
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&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-112261357504362925?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/112261357504362925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=112261357504362925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112261357504362925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112261357504362925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/07/early-days.html' title='The Early Days'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-112261280723869203</id><published>2005-07-29T10:08:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T17:41:21.546+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Down Memory Lane</title><content type='html'>I guess its almost the same with everyone of us...when asked to pinpoint the best part of our lives,almost ninety percent of us would choose school or college days.Me being no exception..school life is my favourite,although I fear I have already lost many of the fond memories in the mad rush that ensued in the years that followed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-112261280723869203?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/112261280723869203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=112261280723869203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112261280723869203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112261280723869203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/07/down-memory-lane.html' title='Down Memory Lane'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-112249669066771270</id><published>2005-07-28T02:03:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T17:42:53.056+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The Descent</title><content type='html'>even the moon which showed travellers the path down the centuries deserted me..i was all alone , struggling against mother nature...i knew then that this was one battle that i was about to lose...and then the unthinkable happened.. when i thought things couldnt get any worse..it happened..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i was in no situation to control natures fury.. but i was left with no choice, had to fight my way out...like a cornered mouse i started my fight back.. ..all hell began to break loose...&lt;br /&gt;and then it made its entry.......it suddenly came out of nowhere.. one second the road was clear and the next second it had engulfed the road completely.. the wind brought it to me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i knew i had to pass this wretched place as soon as possible...there was no way i could wait for it to go away.. things cud get worse...&lt;br /&gt;i had to find a way out of here...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-112249669066771270?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/112249669066771270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=112249669066771270' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112249669066771270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112249669066771270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/07/descent.html' title='The Descent'/><author><name>neeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02317643215792981139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-112221949219624802</id><published>2005-07-24T21:08:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-03-28T10:07:58.503+05:30</updated><title type='text'>"Entry,Exit and....the part in between"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/1600/wallpaper_fn_05.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1247/1312/400/wallpaper_fn_05.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many times i have wondered..why is each one of us born..live our unique lives and die one day...What difference does it make to the universe that one more of human species had lived and died here??..then there is this theory that people remember u by ur deeds..that is true of course..but theres nothing called immortality..in thoughts..Sometimes it scares me and maybe kind of depresses..that the world would go on the same way as it is now..even if i died today..each one of us by ourself makes no difference to this vast universe..and yet we struggle our way to living here..&lt;br /&gt;Childhood was a kind of real bliss..mostly bcoz we are ignorant about a lot and lot of things..and life is so much less complicated.And i would say people who can remain as children at heart all their lives are the most fortunate..bcoz the more you think the more mad you get..:)..&lt;br /&gt;Death is as much difficult or more to comprehend as life is..Have never been able to acknowledge death all my life..its so mysterious..so unwelcome....Our world is more like the one Jim Carrey lives in "The TrueMan Show"..every single being doing his part..and the best actors are analogous to the most successful ones!!...But then we cannot remain stationary when everyoneelse is rushing forward..if you do you are bound to get crushed in the stampede!!..so we have to march on and on..not knowing where it will take us.......We know neither the beginning nor the end..only the part in between..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
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&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-112221949219624802?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/112221949219624802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=112221949219624802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112221949219624802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112221949219624802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/07/entryexit-andthe-part-in-between.html' title='&quot;Entry,Exit and....the part in between&quot;'/><author><name>Soorya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17253726133794648181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-112160893666805288</id><published>2005-07-17T19:21:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T17:45:41.036+05:30</updated><title type='text'>where sky meets the earth...</title><content type='html'>as i stood on top of the mountain, i could feel the icy cold wind blowing. even with 6 layers of clothing , it made no difference to the bitter coldness....the overwhelming feeling rose in me as to whether i would be able to make my stand here..the choice was not within me...and the high altitude made things even worse...breathing became a difficulty cus of the lack of oxygen... i drew a deep breath. trying to inhale the one thing that was aplenty from down where we came from, but up here even the air we breathe became a luxury....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i closed my eyes trying to comprehend why so many brave men gave up their lives to scale this mountain.....and as i gradually opened my eyes and took a look around.... my wonder turned to pure amazement...all i could see was endless rows and rows of snow covered peaks, glowing like gold in the hue of the evening sun . i knew then... that it was where, i also wanted to be one day... as i stood there, gazing for what seemed an eternity...time was rushing on.....the sun had to set. up here, there were... no birds to chirp away on their way home.... no trees to shed any leaves in the freezing breeze..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i knew my quest has come to an end, this is where i have to turn back..my road ends here..&lt;br /&gt;with a heavy heart and a sad soul i gently lowered my head and looked down on the snow i was standing...wishing that i could take a part of this with me forever and ever...as i started my walk back, i could feel the crunching sound of the snow beneath my feet...and i felt it was my heart that was feeling the pain....i had to come back here...one day......had to complete what i had left undone...my soul would b there forever , i had to take it to where it belonged...up where the earth meets the sky...........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-112160893666805288?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/112160893666805288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=112160893666805288' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112160893666805288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112160893666805288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/07/where-sky-meets-earth.html' title='where sky meets the earth...'/><author><name>neeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02317643215792981139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-112142390345268477</id><published>2005-07-15T15:42:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T17:47:20.653+05:30</updated><title type='text'>reeling under the spell...</title><content type='html'>movie reels....&lt;br /&gt;"cause"...... defines the best from the rest...&lt;br /&gt;i always enjoyed watching movies that had a cause attached to it...&lt;br /&gt;like freedom in braveheart  and..&lt;br /&gt;i will always remember how the bridge was guarded in saving private ryan&lt;br /&gt;i suppose all of u will hav entirely different opinions bot this and thats what i wanna hear 4m u all...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
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&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-112142390345268477?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/112142390345268477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=112142390345268477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112142390345268477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112142390345268477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/07/reeling-under-spell.html' title='reeling under the spell...'/><author><name>neeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02317643215792981139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-112142208928613938</id><published>2005-07-15T15:16:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T17:48:38.863+05:30</updated><title type='text'>the corner that's not so soft......</title><content type='html'>hi friends,&lt;br /&gt;its after much delibration that i decided to put this topic on the board....kya kare, nobody seems to b interested in riting bot anything other than luv these days...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont hav anything to say, but i kno a lot of u r really good at it...i meant writing ,ok :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
&lt;rss version="2.0"&gt;
&lt;channel&gt;


&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;/channel&gt;
&lt;/rss&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14478638-112142208928613938?l=lifezlikedat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/feeds/112142208928613938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14478638&amp;postID=112142208928613938' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112142208928613938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14478638/posts/default/112142208928613938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com/2005/07/corner-thats-not-so-soft.html' title='the corner that&apos;s not so soft......'/><author><name>neeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02317643215792981139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-14478638.post-112133148781470632</id><published>2005-07-14T14:11:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-07T17:49:55.236+05:30</updated><title type='text'>closer 2 heaven dan ever b4</title><content type='html'>it all started like any other trip....but little was we to know that something beyond our wildest imagination was about to happen on that Dday.&lt;br /&gt;As i sat in the back seat of the car looking out ...the only thing that my eye could conjure was the endless stretch of barren land.....miles and miles upon.. we rode , me wondering when we will ever cross the dead zone....&lt;br /&gt;to be continued ...........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;?xml version="1.0"?&gt;
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&lt;title&gt;c'est la vie&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;We have a team blog in here, relating to many trivial and nontrivial things of our lives&lt;/description&gt;
&lt;link&gt;http://lifezlikedat.blogspot.com&lt;/link&gt;

&lt;item&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Those bonds of love&lt;/title&gt;
&lt;description&gt;the kind of influence 'friends' have on us....&lt;/description&gt;
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