<?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'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293</id><updated>2009-11-14T19:22:57.758+05:30</updated><title type='text'>My Random Thoughts</title><subtitle type='html'>What goes on in my mind....</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>63</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-3187362245444242780</id><published>2009-10-22T19:25:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-10-22T19:29:46.106+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rangoli'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aurangabad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='diwali'/><title type='text'>Aura of Aurangabad</title><content type='html'>Well, trying to post this using the email option. Let me see if this works. If it does, it surely means a lottery to me, if not for the readers. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me first test the image by adding this. A small rangoli I made for Diwali given the shortage of time since we were leaving for Aurangabad right after the morning oil bath and the rituals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395423247249166866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SuBk23Er0hI/AAAAAAAAAkE/7K_FFfZL6qo/s200/rangoli.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Post Diwali, we had a nice 4-day trip to the city of Aurangabad (of which 2 was spent in driving to and fro).&lt;br /&gt;It took us 6 hrs drive from Mumbai to Aurangabad via the Pune route. We reached in the evening and just chilled out at the hotel. I must add that the Lemon Tree hotel where we were put up is fantastic. For the price of 2750 per night, they serve buffet breakfast as well and allow the usage of the swimming pool. The speciality of Lemon Tree Hotel is the fresh lemon fragrance that lingers always. They also have a uniqueness that there are almost 2000 jokes printed and framed onto the walls across the hotel. It was fun reading some weird ones.&lt;br /&gt;Day 1 we covered Ajanta and Bibi Ka Maqbara. Ajanta needs no introduction. I was in awe looking at the Ajanta Ellora caves though they were in sorry state. I only wish our government was more serious in preserving the national heritage. One of the world heritage, the paintings and sculptures easily can be called the zenith in arts of all times. Maybe we, with our crumbling houses and dull paintings should look back and learn a thing or two. The 30 caves kept us busy for 2 hrs.&lt;br /&gt;Bibi ka maqbara - the poor imitation of Taj was a case study of its own kind. The similarity and differences between the two were striking out. Heres a snap taken by my hubby! He was so engrossed in focussing on the tip of the maqbara that he missed the top of my poor girl !!!! Here she stands headless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395423471492243954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SuBlD6cZofI/AAAAAAAAAkM/Dy5T5U0iepo/s200/bibi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 2 found us in Ellora. Again the caves are too good to be missed. Divided into the Hindu, Buddhist and Jain caves, these mainly comprise of a more developed form of sculpture as compared to Ajanta. Kailash temple in cave no 16 is the highlight.&lt;br /&gt;We missed going to Daulatabad fort. Oct heat was the deterrent. But people planning to visit Aurangabad must go there.&lt;br /&gt;We also visited Panchakki - the water mill ( I did not find it impressive). We tried rushing to Paithan to see the silk weavers at work but alas, the factories close by 3 it seems. So, we had to return all the way back.&lt;br /&gt;Even though the mornings and noons were packed, evenings gave us some relaxing times and left us with nothing much to do. Luckily, there was Fame multiplex right next to the hotel and yes, you guessed right. We saw 1 film each on both the free evenings ;) - Blue and All the best. Blue was a huge disappointment while All the best was too good and a riot! My tummy ached with too much laughter.&lt;br /&gt;On the whole, a good break it was. And here I am, back to waiting for the next one :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-3187362245444242780?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/3187362245444242780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=3187362245444242780' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/3187362245444242780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/3187362245444242780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2009/10/aura-of-aurangabad_22.html' title='Aura of Aurangabad'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SuBk23Er0hI/AAAAAAAAAkE/7K_FFfZL6qo/s72-c/rangoli.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-3838218491239085731</id><published>2009-09-28T12:45:00.012+05:30</published><updated>2009-09-28T13:27:54.398+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Navratri'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Paper bag'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bommai Kolu'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='festivals'/><title type='text'>Navratri Picture session!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Heres why I love this festival. I have already written about it earlier &lt;a href="http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2007/10/bommai-kolu.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. Here are the pics of my this years Golu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386418982513712930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SsBnhrAmnyI/AAAAAAAAAYM/RYSL-UwPbMQ/s200/DSC00401.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The 5 steps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386419988470745794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SsBocOfcysI/AAAAAAAAAYU/jA7243PHY54/s200/DSC00399.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tried to make a hill temple!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386420574407624066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SsBo-VRsBYI/AAAAAAAAAYc/IxsGuyd9hdU/s200/DSC00400.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Ragi seeds refused to grow... truly failed rains this time :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386421616073845890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SsBp69yRLII/AAAAAAAAAYk/CbBJ06NEFBs/s200/RangoliOnWater.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Attempted rangoli on top of water!! But the moment fan was switched on, the colours ran helter-skelter ;) ( CP, I will reply to your mail on this!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386422098160975970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SsBqXBszAGI/AAAAAAAAAYs/TU0PCaWU2KQ/s200/22092009(002).jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Paper bags I made to give the haldi kumkum in.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Hope you all had a great navratri and heres wishing you happy Deepavali in advance. I love this festive season. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-3838218491239085731?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/3838218491239085731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=3838218491239085731' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/3838218491239085731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/3838218491239085731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2009/09/navratri-picture-session.html' title='Navratri Picture session!'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SsBnhrAmnyI/AAAAAAAAAYM/RYSL-UwPbMQ/s72-c/DSC00401.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-9081871278580099906</id><published>2009-08-26T21:30:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2009-08-26T22:24:31.676+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='regionalism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kaminey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><title type='text'>Whats in a surname</title><content type='html'>Let me on the onset admit that this is not a review of any movie but the fact is that I saw Kaminey last week and loved it to the core. It’s THE movie of recent times for sure. It had just the right combination of everything and made a perfect treat for hungry eyes, ears and minds.&lt;br /&gt;A fistful of darkness&lt;br /&gt;Liberal sprinkle of humor&lt;br /&gt;Loads of guffaws&lt;br /&gt;Earful of lovely music&lt;br /&gt;Mouthful of awesome lyrics&lt;br /&gt;2 hours of hot masala&lt;br /&gt;And Tears to taste (for insane people like me, who can cry seeing a cute hero getting beaten up!)&lt;br /&gt;All these made to simmer over brilliant direction made for something not to be missed.&lt;br /&gt;But then this dish is like the continental and exotic serve. Either you have the taste for it and will love it. Or you will not! Simple. There have been a couple of my friends who have felt let down and have been found exclaiming “paisa bhi hum kharch karein aur bheja bhi? “ (Meaning why should we spend money as well as brains? ;) You get the drift!&lt;br /&gt;I will not go into the storyline or a review here since I feel too inadequate for that. I am not one of those who can observe and comment on the nuances. You can read many of the brilliant posts already published.&lt;br /&gt;The point of the post here is one among the many points which was raised in the movie- that of division on the basis of region.&lt;br /&gt;I have already written once against the anti-north-indian attitude of certain politicians in Maharashtra. This movie beautifully brings forth the issue without dwelling too much upon it and yet making sure that it makes its presence felt.&lt;br /&gt;But isn’t it true in our everyday affairs to categorize a person solely based on his surname and/or region, especially so in India. This categorization is not on the basis of external characteristics but more on traits.&lt;br /&gt;I remember my growing up years in Delhi. My father had a shrewd, calculating, bully of a colleague who also happened to be a Sindhi. Needless to say, one of the favorite dialogues mouthed by my father was “trust a snake, but never trust a Sindhi” while I listened attentively and processed the information for future usage!&lt;br /&gt;My father being a Palakkad Iyer, obviously has good words for his brethren. Oh, they are the neatest lot and the most hardworking at that.&lt;br /&gt;After shifting to Mumbai, I started attending my PG classes. During one of the classes the Maharashtrian teached started rattling off in Marathi in answer to a query from a student. He did not even bother to notice that a few of us could hardly make head or tail of the conversation! Irked by this, one of my Tamil friends remarked “These marathi people are just so ill mannered. They start chattering in their language irrespective of other people around”.&lt;br /&gt;It was quite ironic that years later, another of my juniors, who happened to be a Marathi, and working in Chennai, called me up and started complaining over the same issue- that in meetings, everyone sta&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SpVew4ASPUI/AAAAAAAAAOY/EvFJ_7fKgqY/s1600-h/gujaratmap2.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374305924096867650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 166px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SpVew4ASPUI/AAAAAAAAAOY/EvFJ_7fKgqY/s200/gujaratmap2.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;rts speaking in Tamil while she has to look around clueless!&lt;br /&gt;How can I forget to mention Gujjus. When I got to stay in Gujarat, there were ofcourse the typical statements like “oh these lazy gujjus. They sleep all through the afternoon!” Or, “These people live to eat”.&lt;br /&gt;Ever wondered why is it that certain traits are attributed to regions?&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that Maths teachers are generally Tamilians? Why are nurses and stenos from Kerala? Why are the most famous singers of Bollywood from Bengal? Why are most of the successful businessmen from Gujarat? Why are many of the soldiers from Gurkhaland?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe regions do have an effect on the nature. Could it be that climatic conditions play a role in conditioning all this? Or is it the food habits that have been passed from generation to generation? Is it the traditions, the customs behind the display of such typical characteristics?&lt;br /&gt;Here is the summary of various tidbits I collected based partly on hearsay and partly by observation.&lt;br /&gt;1. Punjabi (Punjus)&lt;br /&gt;Loving, believe in PDA (public display of affection), exhibitionists, Spend more than they can afford (you can see from their grand marriages)&lt;br /&gt;2. Biharis&lt;br /&gt;Polite Hindi speaking, more inclined towards public services and politics, hardworking.&lt;br /&gt;3. Malayalees ( Mallus)&lt;br /&gt;Systematic, Neat, Short-tempered, would readily help other mallus, a clos community.&lt;br /&gt;4. Maharashtrians (Marathis)&lt;br /&gt;Culture loving, fanatics (for good and for bad), extremely loyal to their state.&lt;br /&gt;5. Bengalis (Bongs)&lt;br /&gt;Like Marathis, these people love their state, language and culture, artistically oriented, a bit loud, believe-in-me-first, again a close community&lt;br /&gt;6. Gujratis (Gujjus)&lt;br /&gt;Laid back, great business mind, live-to-eat, loud&lt;br /&gt;7. Tamilians (madrasi) &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SpVdSAkTcaI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/3S3V5ShGFsc/s1600-h/quick-gun-murugan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374304294307852706" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SpVdSAkTcaI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/3S3V5ShGFsc/s200/quick-gun-murugan.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Religious, artistically inclined, good sloggers, timid (save a few politicians), too rigid, less tolerant.&lt;br /&gt;There are exceptions to the rules but I feel that nature of a person is the resultant of the environment he is growing up in and that very well constitutes the region.&lt;br /&gt;But having said all the above, the fact remains that India of today is changing for sure. There are people like me who are basically metro-born-and bred, who have mixture of habits borrowed from all around. So, this hybrid breed is surely breaking all the rules that have no basis. And till such time, this hybrid breed takes over India, we will keep having fight between states and our neighbours would keep using such differences as a weapon against us!&lt;br /&gt;Jai Ho!&lt;br /&gt;Take a look at &lt;a href="http://www.hinduonnet.com/thehindu/mp/2003/04/14/stories/2003041400210100.htm"&gt;this &lt;/a&gt;for a hilarious note on mallu habits&lt;br /&gt;As for Bongs, read &lt;a href="http://greatbong.net/2009/07/07/the-dying-traits-of-the-bangali/"&gt;this &lt;/a&gt;for a good laugh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. the mudra on the header is mine... some 20 years back. Gosh, even I cant believe it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-9081871278580099906?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/9081871278580099906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=9081871278580099906' title='31 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/9081871278580099906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/9081871278580099906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2009/08/whats-in-surname.html' title='Whats in a surname'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SpVew4ASPUI/AAAAAAAAAOY/EvFJ_7fKgqY/s72-c/gujaratmap2.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>31</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-1150706634850026111</id><published>2009-08-15T16:51:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-08-15T17:01:31.345+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wake-up call'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Swine flu'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Morning walk'/><title type='text'>This and That : When swine flew!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SoabWGPIBeI/AAAAAAAAAMo/wUv7ZafS-_I/s1600-h/clock.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370150409619375586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 187px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SoabWGPIBeI/AAAAAAAAAMo/wUv7ZafS-_I/s200/clock.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The alarm clock started singing mauja hi mauja. I hit it hard on its head and went back to sleep. And down went my walking plans for the nth time! So there! This is what happens if I let a little break creep into my nicely laid out routine life…and then the break becomes my routine. You get the drift. Yeah I am a routine freak. Newton would have loved to have me as a sample – a creature who loves to be in the state of whatever-state-she-is-in! But one fine day it dawned upon me that I have this tiny whiny cyberspace. So, now I just need to break this state of laziness; of setting-alarm-and-shutting-it-up-and-sleeping-back, carting-myself-to-work-to-get-bored, back-home-and-ofcos-sleep-again with nothing in between. And what could be better than scribbling on my blog. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, where do I begin? OK, I want to confess that I am one of those who got into panic due to recent flu in the town. But, it was certainly not on the day I read about the poor young little girl Reida, who was the first (recorded) victim of this swinest swine flu. Pune still seemed quite far off from Mumbai. But, the day I got to know that a class 12th student in the very school my kids go to, has contacted this virus and has been rushed to Kasturba hospital, thats the day I got my first panic attack. Somehow, it felt too close now. I admit, that I was one of those who paid an exorbitant 25 rs for masks which actually are worth only 5-10. But ofcourse, now I am recovering from the panic attack. I am seeing to it that hands are washed often with soap and water, lots of fluid intake is happening and overall hygiene s maintained in the household. Besides that certain herbs like turmeric and tulsi are being used more! I guess, awareness is the key. And here goes my prayer to the Almighty to cause no more deaths due to this viral attack. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That brings me to another point. I wanted to see Kaminey so very badly! But it will release in Mumbai only on monday. Sigh! Let me see if I can catch hold of tickets for monday then. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;BTW, to all those who kept banging the doors of this sleeping blog to check if I am fine, you people are a sweetheart and hopefully I will be more regular now. To all those who tagged me, you people are also sweethearts for still having hopes on me :-), I will do them soon! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SoacTlnVT-I/AAAAAAAAAMw/28vOfxNT5xc/s1600-h/treadmill.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370151466014429154" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SoacTlnVT-I/AAAAAAAAAMw/28vOfxNT5xc/s200/treadmill.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh yeah, and I bought a treadmill. Hopefully walking will happen more often now. and hope the same for blogging ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Heres wishing all a very happy independance day. Lets hope we learn to become more responsible citizens and India shines in the real sense of the word.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-1150706634850026111?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/1150706634850026111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=1150706634850026111' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/1150706634850026111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/1150706634850026111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2009/08/this-and-that.html' title='This and That : When swine flew!'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SoabWGPIBeI/AAAAAAAAAMo/wUv7ZafS-_I/s72-c/clock.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-5898230102991290462</id><published>2009-03-04T12:14:00.008+05:30</published><updated>2009-03-04T12:51:08.071+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='secrets'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tags'/><title type='text'>Seeking 25 random secrets!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead.”&lt;/em&gt; as quoted by Benjamin Franklin. &lt;/p&gt;--------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Since I have been tagged by &lt;a href="http://eye-in-sty-in.blogspot.com/"&gt;Spike &lt;/a&gt;and &lt;a href="http://rotteneggstrikes.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ava &lt;/a&gt;for 25 random things about me and then by &lt;a href="http://udtahaathi.wordpress.com/"&gt;Udtahaathi &lt;/a&gt;for 25 secrets, let me just scratch the surface and give you some not-so-dark-and yet-random secrets &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/Sa4medq16II/AAAAAAAAALU/VUH1CJpBjt0/s1600-h/greyhair.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309223315518646402" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 125px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/Sa4medq16II/AAAAAAAAALU/VUH1CJpBjt0/s200/greyhair.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;of my life.&lt;br /&gt;1. I was a NAGIN in my previous birth. I do believe in reincarnation.&lt;br /&gt;2. I have 184320 hair on my head out of which 164312 are grey.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3. I am size 0 beneath all these layers of fat.&lt;br /&gt;4. I am a drunkard. I consume 1.153 litres of water every day.&lt;br /&gt;5. I once finished 4th in a running race and there were only 4 runners.&lt;br /&gt;6. I have never been to a pub or a discotheque ever.&lt;br /&gt;7. While in confines of the loo, my mind is at its sharpest! I remember all the bill due-dates, the pending phone calls and the unanswered mails. The moment I step out, I forget.&lt;br /&gt;8. I have not visited Kashmir even once even though I was in Delhi all through the 70s and 80s&lt;br /&gt;9. I still bite my nails at times. Sometimes I end up eating the skin around too :(&lt;br /&gt;10. I cant sleep in a completely quiet surrounding. I need a fan whirring or a snore or even some light music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/Sa4nTN1b2xI/AAAAAAAAALc/qpv-FX8fTY0/s1600-h/Haunted-House-02.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309224221801175826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 154px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/Sa4nTN1b2xI/AAAAAAAAALc/qpv-FX8fTY0/s200/Haunted-House-02.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;11. I am scared of sleeping alone in an empty house. I switch my living room lights on in such cases. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;12. The 15-year old tomboy is still alive inside me and surfaces every now and then to my utter horror.&lt;br /&gt;13. Some days I crave for sweets so much, I eat spoonful of sugar… and hold on I am not pregnant!&lt;br /&gt;14. I cry easily when I sense a situation getting out of control. Once I cried after an altercation with boss while my poor colleague didn’t know where to hide!&lt;br /&gt;15. I once got caught by a bus conductor when I was travelling without ticket in a bus. I escaped using the famous girl-smiles-heart-melts technique&lt;br /&gt;16. I can whistle with or without my fingers. Ha!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;17. Deep down I am basically a KANJOOS, a hoarder who spends and then feels gu&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/Sa4otS_lDbI/AAAAAAAAALk/R8ks16roLWo/s1600-h/burntcake.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309225769374125490" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/Sa4otS_lDbI/AAAAAAAAALk/R8ks16roLWo/s200/burntcake.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ilty.&lt;br /&gt;18. I managed to burn fast-to-cook-good-to-eat-Maggie once! Last Sunday I successfully burnt the outside of my cake while the insides were still raw.&lt;br /&gt;19. I used to love biting my hair when young. Even now, I fiddle with my hair when in deep thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;20. During my teen years, while taking the national pledge “India is my country and all Indians are my brothers and sisters”, I used to skip the brothers part.&lt;br /&gt;21. I am superstitious about auspicious-days and number 13&lt;br /&gt;22. I can be quick witted at rare times and “duh” most of the times making me wonder if I am a case of multiple-personality-disorder.&lt;br /&gt;23. I once was an avid collector of match-box covers!&lt;br /&gt;24. The only subject I ever failed in my school times was Drawing and Arts thanks to a too-perfect teacher&lt;br /&gt;25. I am not on Facebook or Hi-5 or Tagged or any such. I only exist in Orkut in a completely unknown avtar which is also sleeping since a long time.&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;As per &lt;a href="http://www.answers.com/topic/open-secret"&gt;answers.com&lt;/a&gt; open secret means&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;An *open secret* is a concept or idea that is "officially" secret or restricted in knowledge, but is actually widely known; or refers to something which is widely known to be true, but which none of the people most intimately concerned is willing to categorically acknowledge in public.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. My friend &lt;a href="http://blessed-curse.blogspot.com/"&gt;Vee &lt;/a&gt; has come up with our very own, common man's &lt;a href="http://moviemaniax.wordpress.com/"&gt;MovieManiax Awards 2008&lt;/a&gt;. With the heavy politics taking away the very meaning of awards, we sure need to voice our opinion and give credit where its due. Please do visit and vote.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-5898230102991290462?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/5898230102991290462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=5898230102991290462' title='41 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/5898230102991290462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/5898230102991290462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2009/03/seeking-25-random-secrets.html' title='Seeking 25 random secrets!'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/Sa4medq16II/AAAAAAAAALU/VUH1CJpBjt0/s72-c/greyhair.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>41</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-1878710470474229378</id><published>2009-02-27T19:23:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-27T19:53:33.136+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tags'/><title type='text'>Tag Time!</title><content type='html'>Being a lazy bone to the core, I know I have missed to do many tags in the past. I am really and sincerely sorry to all those sweet friends of mine who tagged me and got disappointed by the procrastination. I promise to be more sincere henceforth. Spike, its yours next OK! :)&lt;br /&gt;Just like forwarded mails, I feel that tags are ways of reminding people that we are thinking of them. Thanks Abha and Monika, for not losing out on me and this tag they passed on to me is pretty simple since its Q&amp;amp;A only! So here I go.&lt;br /&gt;1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?&lt;br /&gt;Nopes. But I made it a point not to live upto it!&lt;br /&gt;2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?&lt;br /&gt;When I was peeling onions today morning!&lt;br /&gt;3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?&lt;br /&gt;I dont like small insects crawling… there I answered it!&lt;br /&gt;4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?&lt;br /&gt;Ram ram ram! :P&lt;br /&gt;5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?&lt;br /&gt;Yeah but I am wondering why this question should be a part of this questionnaire. I need to find the person who started this!&lt;br /&gt;6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?&lt;br /&gt;“Main apni sabse favourite hoon” courtesy Kareena in Jab We met ;) For the uninitiated that statement means “I am my most favourite person”. So obviously I would love to MY friend!&lt;br /&gt;7. DO YOU USE SARCASM?&lt;br /&gt;As long as people can laugh it off !&lt;br /&gt;8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?&lt;br /&gt;I never had one. Am I considered normal now?&lt;br /&gt;9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?&lt;br /&gt;Oh YES YES YES!&lt;br /&gt;10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL&lt;br /&gt;Kellogs!&lt;br /&gt;11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?&lt;br /&gt;Dint you know LAZINESS is my middle name?&lt;br /&gt;12. IF YOU WERE TO PICK YOU OWN FIRST NAME, WHAT WOULD IT BE?&lt;br /&gt;This question comes a little late in my life nevertheless I had a fascination for Hema once. Talk about influence of cine world on common man!&lt;br /&gt;13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?&lt;br /&gt;Butterscotch /Mango.&lt;br /&gt;14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?&lt;br /&gt;The dress, the smile!&lt;br /&gt;15. RED OR PINK?&lt;br /&gt;Red is HOT!&lt;br /&gt;16. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF&lt;br /&gt;I am short of temper! How do I buy it?&lt;br /&gt;17. WHOM DO YOU MISS THE MOST?&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I adapt pretty fast and so at this moment am not missing anyone!&lt;br /&gt;18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO COMPLETE THIS LIST?&lt;br /&gt;What list? Duh me!&lt;br /&gt;19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?&lt;br /&gt;pastel green chudidaar and metro chappals (I added metro to make it sound hip :P)&lt;br /&gt;21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?&lt;br /&gt;My neighbours blabbering about some website development.&lt;br /&gt;22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?&lt;br /&gt;Blue?&lt;br /&gt;23. FAVORITE SMELLS?&lt;br /&gt;Mehndi, coffee, wet earth, Johnsons baby powder!&lt;br /&gt;24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?&lt;br /&gt;A friend- casual daily stuffs!&lt;br /&gt;25. HOW DO YOU KNOW THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU&lt;br /&gt;I met Abha through a site where we used to write earlier and am I glad I bumped into her. And I came to know Monika after I started blogging. I really really hope we meet someday soon :)&lt;br /&gt;26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?&lt;br /&gt;Cricket&lt;br /&gt;27. HAIR COLOR?&lt;br /&gt;Mixture of grey/black/brown!&lt;br /&gt;28. EYE COLOR?&lt;br /&gt;Brown.&lt;br /&gt;29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?&lt;br /&gt;No. and no glasses either&lt;br /&gt;30. FAVORITE FOODS?&lt;br /&gt;mmmmmm Italian – Pasta, Pizza&lt;br /&gt;31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?&lt;br /&gt;Happy endings no doubt! Enough of things to be scared of in real life J&lt;br /&gt;32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?&lt;br /&gt;Slumdog and liked it for sure&lt;br /&gt;33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?&lt;br /&gt;pastel green kurta&lt;br /&gt;34.SUMMER OR WINTER&lt;br /&gt;Winter anytime!&lt;br /&gt;35. HUGS OR KISSES&lt;br /&gt;Hugs, hugs! Kisses are a little too personal for me to share with all J&lt;br /&gt;36. DESCRIBE YOUR PENCIL CUP&lt;br /&gt;whats that? L&lt;br /&gt;38. FAVORITE ARTIST(s)?&lt;br /&gt;I presume this goes for all fine arts and so it is some Bharatanatyam dancers – Vyjayanti Mala, Hema Malini, Alamelu Valli, Chitra Visweswaran, Rama Vaidyanathan to name a few&lt;br /&gt;39. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?&lt;br /&gt;Marrying Anita by Anita Jain&lt;br /&gt;40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?&lt;br /&gt;nothing cos I don’t have one. Someone please buy me one!&lt;br /&gt;41. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT?&lt;br /&gt;Some stupid Tamil serial… I think it was Kolangal which is the fav of my inlaws..grrrr&lt;br /&gt;42. FAVORITE SOUND(S).&lt;br /&gt;A fan whirring in a quiet room. That’s soporific!!!!&lt;br /&gt;43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES?&lt;br /&gt;Beatles but I am more of Indian Music lover&lt;br /&gt;44. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME?&lt;br /&gt;US of A!&lt;br /&gt;45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?&lt;br /&gt;I can touch my nose with my tongue! OK That was a lie but my hubby can do that.&lt;br /&gt;46. WHERE WERE U BORN?&lt;br /&gt;Tamilnadu.&lt;br /&gt;47. FAVORITE PIECE OF JEWELRY?&lt;br /&gt;Junk dangling earrings.&lt;br /&gt;48. HOW DID YOU MEET YOUR SPOUSE/SIGNIFICANT OTHER?&lt;br /&gt;Well, I was just about to do the seven pheras with someone when he came galloping on a white horse and swept me off my feet and we got married! Please believe me :P&lt;br /&gt;49. FAVORITE SONG?&lt;br /&gt;Lots actually. Among the new bolly songs I am loving Mar jaawaan from Fashion!&lt;br /&gt;50.Favorite Musical?&lt;br /&gt;A Tamil movie called Sankarabharanam. This movie gets my personal oscar every year :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tags are good way to know new friends. So, passing it to some friends here I would love to know more about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://verbivorehere.wordpress.com/"&gt;Verbivore&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://kanaguonline.wordpress.com/"&gt;Kanagu&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://thoughtbubbles07.blogspot.com/"&gt;Girl-next-door&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://bpojobsathome-workhard.blogspot.com/"&gt;Workhard&lt;/a&gt;, and all of you who wish to take it up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-1878710470474229378?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/1878710470474229378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=1878710470474229378' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/1878710470474229378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/1878710470474229378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2009/02/tag-time.html' title='Tag Time!'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-122772416304709581</id><published>2009-02-17T19:54:00.007+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-19T20:21:58.898+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ink Pens'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nostalgia'/><title type='text'>I for Inkpot</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SZ1xbQdm5TI/AAAAAAAAALE/hih5SwTqtXQ/s1600-h/ink_pen1.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304520649201870130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 145px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SZ1xbQdm5TI/AAAAAAAAALE/hih5SwTqtXQ/s200/ink_pen1.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Its been sometime now since my younger daughter has taken to writing with pen in school. And yesterday while I was buying refills for her gel-pens for the 138th time this year, I suddenly got nostalgic!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I still remember my first day in Class 6 which was filled with apprehension, fear, anxiety that catches hold of you when you are suddenly going to be officially declared as senior! But then, it was this excitement of starting to write with pen which masked all the other feelings. Somehow, the 3 letter P, E and N was the passport to adulthood, to maturity, to seniority. It marked the end of kiddish era of PENCILs. PENs meant that finally we have arrived (though WHERE noone would know). We were not allowed to write with ball-point pens and so fountain pen it was. I can proudly say that my first ever PEN gifted to me by my father stood by me for 7 years till the end of my school education. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SZrKN_2nJPI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/WP3ZZcH1paE/s1600-h/inkpen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303773853009782002" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SZrKN_2nJPI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/WP3ZZcH1paE/s320/inkpen.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It used to be quite a ritual no less than the famed tea ceremony, this art of filling ink in the fountain pen. There were many ways of doing the needful. You had cylindrical storage type pen where you just needed to fill the ink and the ink would trickle to the nib enabling you to write. Then there was this pump type where you had to dip the nib of the pen just enough into the Camlin’s ink-pot (I wonder if the kids of today know the meaning of this word) holding a valve tight and on release of the valve, the ink would be sucked into the pen.&lt;br /&gt;I would dutifully keep a duster by my side during this ritual of ink-filling since it would invariably lead to ink-baths everywhere. A piece of chalk would also be kept handy, since chalk absorbs ink fast. After filling the pen, the tips of my fingers would attain a dark blue hue and somehow it gave me a feeling of what a hard-working student I was!&lt;br /&gt;The ink-pens were also source of mucho joy in school though looking back I find the acts pretty wrong. But when you are young, there is nothing called wrong when it comes to times you are having a good laugh. All the bothersome and unpopular teachers would find ink stains on their sarees or shirts or trousers. And ink being ink, would not be scrubbed off easily! I had many lasting ink stains on my uniform too, not that it ever bothered me. As an aside, I have been told that blue ink has anti-inflammatory property and soothes a burn. Never tried it but have heard my grandparents vouch for it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SZ1x4v214dI/AAAAAAAAALM/ZGMP3RLf33M/s1600-h/ink-quill.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304521155845415378" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SZ1x4v214dI/AAAAAAAAALM/ZGMP3RLf33M/s200/ink-quill.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Coming back to pen, t&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SZrLWCf1mLI/AAAAAAAAAKM/_3mfZbO9Qgo/s1600-h/ink-quill.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;he nibs of the pen were the most delicate parts. One hard push and phooosh! They were gone. Oh and let me at this stage, confess that inspired by Ved Vyas of Mahabharatha and all those classic mythological serials and movies, I did try to quill-write using the feathers of pigeon ( I could not find one of the peacock) but dipping in the inkpot for every second word was something which was testing my already low patience and hence the idea was discarded.&lt;br /&gt;Exam times saw me packing 5-6 extra pens and ofcourse the ink pot.&lt;br /&gt;Gone are the days! Today is the world of Gel-pens and Reynolds. My daughter tells me that for her boards its mandatory to use ball pen and not ink or gel-pen! Times surely have changed. So, with the advancement in technology, there is a price tag attached and lets accept it with grace. Though we have less time on our hands to fill ink in the pens, we have electronic medias like these where we can get outright nostalgic. Years later, when my kid’s kids will grow, maybe gel-pens will be out and some silicon-pen will be in and then my kids will update their blogs something on these lines :)&lt;br /&gt;So, now when I need to rush to that book store for buying assortment of refills for the gel-pens of my kids, I try to think of the plus. Atleast they don’t get their hands stained like we did and atleast their teachers sarees and dresses are safe!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-122772416304709581?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/122772416304709581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=122772416304709581' title='34 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/122772416304709581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/122772416304709581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-for-inkpot.html' title='I for Inkpot'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SZ1xbQdm5TI/AAAAAAAAALE/hih5SwTqtXQ/s72-c/ink_pen1.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>34</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-477871651766435109</id><published>2009-02-05T21:53:00.007+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-07T20:21:46.574+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='glaucoma'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Morning walk'/><title type='text'>10 reasons why I walk early in the morning</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Oh guess WHAT! I started walking once again and I am trying to keep myself motivated to go on and on and on and on.. OK Stop! The usual trend is for me to start something and leave it halfway through. I think I must have attempted walking 563 times till now and successfully left it on some or the other pretext. But this time I will make sure to make it a lifelong habit. And so I present to myself 10 reasons why I should walk early in the morning (just around dawn):&lt;br /&gt;1. I get to see the sunrise and save 20,000 rs. How? Well, I have seen people spend that much on a trip to Goa and then come back with pictures of sunrise. Ah, dont mind me. I am just being plain jealous you see! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2. I get a chance to be philosophical and come up with phrases like “The light sweeping the dark night away” / “The nature tosses its orange ball yet again”! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3. If I end up with a group walk, then I catch up on the latest buzz of the town before the broadcast by my maid servant! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4. I have a reason to buy new clothes and new shoes. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;5. My bonding with sleep increases; I mean I start valuing and loving and appreciating the art of sleeping more and more. So, I make up for the lost sleep on sunday afternoons and its bliss!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6. I can escape the task of making dinner with the excuse that I got up early, you see. Please have this rice with sambhar, I am sooooooo tired! Same reason if I am caught napping in office.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;7. &lt;strike&gt;I can catch the worm &lt;/strike&gt;I can pick flowers for the daily pooja. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;8. People listen to music while they walk but I practice my vocal skills without fear of people shushing me! So, its me, my tanhai, my Ragams and with the accompaniments of birds, and ofcourse occasional dog barks!!! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;9. One of my favouritest pastime is to observe the lights in the various flats of my colony; and wonder what the person would be cooking, whether that kid would be up and getting ready for school, whether that couple is getting late and rushing to catch 7:09 local! Oh, I have an alternate profession in hand, just in case!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;10. I can give a competition to Kareena… OK OK if not Kareena, her mom?? OK OK Her grandmom? See how goalpost keeps shifting!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah and the main reason is that I have been advised jogging or fast walks in the morning to control my borderline eye pressure which cannot be prevented but can be kept from causing further damage to the eyes. Glaucoma, they call it. Got to go for checkup again this monthend. Wish me luck, friends :) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-477871651766435109?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/477871651766435109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=477871651766435109' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/477871651766435109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/477871651766435109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2009/02/10-reasons-why-i-walk-early-in-morning.html' title='10 reasons why I walk early in the morning'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-4001823211264921516</id><published>2008-12-05T21:37:00.007+05:30</published><updated>2008-12-06T10:46:16.642+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Award'/><title type='text'>On e-friends, proximity and award!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Internet_friendship"&gt;There has been mixed opinions on e-friendship&lt;/a&gt;. Some feel that online friends will never be genuine since they portray a completely different aspect of their characters when hiding behind an ID; in effect giving rise to deceptions. Some say that internet friendships helps introverts find an outlet. Some thrive on the net. No, make that many. Some have gained life partners over the web and some have lost their lives too, trusting their e-friends. E-friendship is a debatable topic.&lt;br /&gt;It is true that I am personally quite wary of people I bump on the net. Since I cannot have an eye contact with them and cant examine their body language, I am not sure of what lurks behind those words that have been typed.  I guess with age, we are mature enough to be careful and guess the intentions of a stranger but its the young teenagers and adolescents who are more prone to get misled.&lt;br /&gt;An yet, ironically, I have found some gem of people through the net. One of them is Monika.&lt;br /&gt;So, all I can say, &lt;a href="http://pourmyheart.blogspot.com/2008/12/proximity-award.html"&gt;Monika&lt;/a&gt;, is a big Thanks from the bottom of my heart cos you are one of the many who made me believe that net friends are genuine and for keeps! Thanks for this award.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/STlTjVks4yI/AAAAAAAAAH8/CIFl69yECwY/s1600-h/Proximidade_Blog_Award.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276346280719667474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 190px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 153px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/STlY_K4_0RI/AAAAAAAAAIE/e31kJY3DZAI/s320/Proximidade_Blog_Award.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;This award is given to a blog that invests and believes in PROXIMITY - nearness&lt;br /&gt;in space, time and relationships! These blogs are exceedingly charming. These&lt;br /&gt;kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in prizes or&lt;br /&gt;self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut,&lt;br /&gt;even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these&lt;br /&gt;writers! Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and&lt;br /&gt;include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, time to pass it on. I pass on the award to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://jottingsmine.blogspot.com/"&gt;JLT&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://myaalochane.blogspot.com/"&gt;Suma &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://books-life-n-more.blogspot.com/"&gt;Smita &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://myamusingmind.wordpress.com/"&gt;Swati &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://couchpapaya.blogspot.com/"&gt;Couch Papaya&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://phoenixme.blogspot.com/"&gt;Shalini &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://booksbyrotten.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ava &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bouncing-bubble.blogspot.com/"&gt;Bubbles &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://blessed-curse.blogspot.com/"&gt;Oxy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I have taken the liberty to add 1 more. ( I am known for writing extra from my childhood days ;)  I used up maximum supplementary sheets, bindaas!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;These are some of the people I met on the net and who have become good friends offline too!&lt;br /&gt;Thanks dear friends for restoring my faith! Time to cut the ribbons and propogate friendship!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-4001823211264921516?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/4001823211264921516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=4001823211264921516' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/4001823211264921516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/4001823211264921516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2008/12/on-e-friends-proximity-and-award.html' title='On e-friends, proximity and award!'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/STlY_K4_0RI/AAAAAAAAAIE/e31kJY3DZAI/s72-c/Proximidade_Blog_Award.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-3774897362158668878</id><published>2008-12-05T20:53:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-12-05T21:06:11.334+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tribute'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mumbai Massacre'/><title type='text'>E mere Vatan ke Logon</title><content type='html'>Got this through the mail and I wanted to keep reminding myself that there are people who sacrificed their life for our sake and their sacrifice should not go waste. We need a change and badly at that! &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My salute to these brave soldiers&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276329487057179282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 246px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 458px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/STlJtpn2UpI/AAAAAAAAAHk/5X-Jx_fyXig/s400/ATT00002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-3774897362158668878?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/3774897362158668878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=3774897362158668878' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/3774897362158668878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/3774897362158668878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2008/12/e-mere-vatan-ke-logon.html' title='E mere Vatan ke Logon'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/STlJtpn2UpI/AAAAAAAAAHk/5X-Jx_fyXig/s72-c/ATT00002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-562148221598607682</id><published>2008-11-28T22:20:00.007+05:30</published><updated>2008-11-28T22:42:58.984+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Peace Please'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mumbai Massacre'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Anti-terrorist'/><title type='text'>We shall overcome TODAY!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;What is happening? All this cannot be for real. This happens only in movies. I usually cry only while watching movies but these days I have been crying seeing what is happening all around the world. I am having this sinking feeling in my heart. Till last week, the worry was only about my job but now its becoming a question of life! Isnt it shameful that I am feeling insecure in my own country and the city I have adopted!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I want to believe in these lines &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;We shall overcome, we shall overcome&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;We shall overcome some day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;We shall overcome some day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;..... but will it be too late by then? :(&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;The Lord will see us through, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;the Lord will see us through&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;The lord will see us through some day &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;The Lord will see us some d&lt;/span&gt;ay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;..... but where is He today when we are suffering for no fault of ours?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;We’ll walk hand in hand, we’ll walk hand in hand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;We’ll walk hand in hand some day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;We’ll walk hand in hand some day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;..... Yes THIS must happen right now !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;We are not afraid, we are not afraid&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;We are not afraid today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;We are not afraid today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;.... I am trying that I swear, I am trying it, but when I hear a loud sound, I get worried; when I look at a crowd, I feel scared. But I will not break down, no way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;We shall live in peace, we shall live in peace&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;We shall live in peace some day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;WE SHALL LIVE IN PEACE SOMEDAY.... NO...NO... FROM TODAY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-562148221598607682?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/562148221598607682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=562148221598607682' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/562148221598607682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/562148221598607682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2008/11/we-shall-overcome-today.html' title='We shall overcome TODAY!'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-4168040244950138703</id><published>2008-11-14T20:18:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-11-14T20:39:06.011+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Foot-in-mouth'/><title type='text'>Hum To Aise Hain Bhaiyya!</title><content type='html'>People! Please stay away from me. Don’t try to venture anywhere within 1 km of my vicinity. I am drowning in the sea of self pity. I have just been diagnosed with the chronic and third degree FIM disease! How cruel can that be! Life is so very unfair. I ask God Almighty, “Why me? Why? Why? Why?” Scientifically, they are still researching and trying to find a cure. How is it that I manage to let loose the most inappropriate sentences at the most appropriate ti&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SR2RLXMFlfI/AAAAAAAAAG0/GioiNxjaTXA/s1600-h/foot_in_mouth.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;mes? &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SR2SVMlWISI/AAAAAAAAAHE/QbmnM_0GrOc/s1600-h/foot_in_mouth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268528031946121506" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SR2SVMlWISI/AAAAAAAAAHE/QbmnM_0GrOc/s200/foot_in_mouth.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a time when my body was a little flexible and the foot could be raised to maximum of being parallel to the ground. But now it’s a miracle if the foot can manage a 45 degree!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;And yet my foot is perpetually in my mouth :(&lt;br /&gt;Let me give you a briefing on this disease. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FIM or Foot-In-Mouth Disease &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sym&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SR2RdGjyS5I/AAAAAAAAAG8/OQCMgJw3wxk/s1600-h/footinmouth.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268527068256291730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SR2RdGjyS5I/AAAAAAAAAG8/OQCMgJw3wxk/s320/footinmouth.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ptoms&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;: The person afflicted with this disease loses control of tongue on seeing anyone or anything that has ears and can listen. He has this urge to throw some wisecracks at that someone. The brain stops analyzing the words that flow incessantly from the mouth for a few moments. By the time the brain realizes the impact, alas, its too late!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Result&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;: Killer looks from people. Curses galore. Road to hell paved!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cure&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;: Stitch them the lips! Sigh :( &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what had happened was that this afternoon one old colleague of mine was sweet enough to drop in and call on me. She had had some work in the vicinity and thought of taking stock with me. After the perfunctory hugs and kisses and hi’s and hellos and so-good-to-see-you routine, the first sentence that got uttered by me were “Hey, looks like you have put on”. The point to be considered here is that we are not big-time pals. Also, the girl had just joined some yoga classes and apparently looking for encouraging comments…. And all she got was THIS! THIS! Imagine her disappointment. Imagine her sorrow. Imagine her anger. Alas, I realized all this only after uttering. Then began a series of mmms and aaas and trying-to-cover-up-and-make-her-feel-better. Now I am wondering when would be the next time she would turn up to say HI to me!&lt;br /&gt;Sigh! And this is not the first time, mind you. I am also known to have asked a young mom whether her child was 1 ½ year old and was told that the child was just 6 months old. Gulp. Now now, how am I supposed to know that some kids are born too healthy? But again what business was it of mine to have guessed the child’s age? This was no quiz and yet, my tongue decided to speak! In the land of the superstitions, when people believe in buri nazar and drishti, this particular statement of mine was so so unwarranted. The best I could have done was to have simply asked the mother the age of the child. But no, I had to open my big mouth. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There are some more of such incidents but then that would be asking for bad publicity!&lt;br /&gt;What do I do, friends? Do you think I can do some penance? Do you know of some rehab where I can get rid of this terrible disease? How? How?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-4168040244950138703?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/4168040244950138703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=4168040244950138703' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/4168040244950138703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/4168040244950138703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2008/11/hum-to-aise-hain-bhaiyya.html' title='Hum To Aise Hain Bhaiyya!'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SR2SVMlWISI/AAAAAAAAAHE/QbmnM_0GrOc/s72-c/foot_in_mouth.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-6178191674827606101</id><published>2008-10-29T21:40:00.010+05:30</published><updated>2008-10-29T22:21:45.395+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rangoli'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rebirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='diwali'/><title type='text'>The new Karrrrrrrrzzzzz!</title><content type='html'>Oh! So you dont believe in reincarnation and rebirth? You dont believe poor Himesssss when he cried hoarse and nasal about ek haseena and ek diwana? I do I do, Himess; dont you worry. I do believe that something done in the previous birth comes to haunt you in the present. I do believe that! Oh yes! You dont believe me?&lt;br /&gt;Look at this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262609454460218434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SQiLapS2rEI/AAAAAAAAAF0/k2NbbsVKcGo/s320/DSC00280.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262610722302869762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SQiMkcYGQQI/AAAAAAAAAF8/mYEfHJgz9X0/s320/DSC00284.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;You may ask me what is this and how is it related to what I blabbered!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, to cut a long story short, I have this feeling you see that I may have been Tom in the previous birth who made life hell for Jerry. Not that I blame myself. Jerry is no less a troublesome brat. But then to take revenge, I think (again), Jerry took birth as Tom in the present world and planned to get friendly with my watchman. The watchman of my building was so taken by this new Tom's cuteness that he has now literally adopted him and this Tom fellow now thinks he owns this building. He also knows how I keep away from dogs and cats. That rascal keeps bursting and enjoying the milk packets delivered by the milkman everyday morning in a small bag which I duly keep outside my house. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And now, the last straw! This Diwali, I took 1 1/2 hours making the rangoli as shown in figure 1! I was so so proud of it and clicked it in my digicam. But then as the morning dawned  a new drama unfolded, and as I opened my front door, I literally screamed in horror. One corner of my rangoli was totally jeopardised by that nasty troublesome Tom! I was as much in state of shock as Urmila was in the new Karrrrrrz! I couldnt comprehend how thoughtless anyone could be to simply make a mess of and hour and a half of hard work! But then I consoled myself and I decided that I wont give it up so easily. So, I chopped and cleaned that one corner of the rangoli and converted it to what is shown in figure 2! Sigh, beggars cant be choosers you see! I am still sad, mad, upset!!!!!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;grrrrrrrrrrr groooooooowl! You just wait, you Tom. In my next birth I will be born as ...as...as.. I dont know what. But I will ensure I will spoil the rangoli you make. You just wait and watch!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-6178191674827606101?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/6178191674827606101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=6178191674827606101' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/6178191674827606101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/6178191674827606101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2008/10/new-karrrrrrrrzzzzz.html' title='The new Karrrrrrrrzzzzz!'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SQiLapS2rEI/AAAAAAAAAF0/k2NbbsVKcGo/s72-c/DSC00280.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-1814078244941629436</id><published>2008-10-21T12:29:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-10-21T21:16:44.358+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vandalism politics gundaraj'/><title type='text'>Down with GUNDA "RAJ"</title><content type='html'>Just today Raj Thackerey has finally been arrested. I know that he will soon be released but atleast the state govt and police proved that they are not “spineless” as Raj had named them.&lt;br /&gt;Apparently the MNS workers entered the examination halls where Railway Recruitment Board was conducting their exam. They snatched the papers from the candidates and did all they could to ruin the entrance tests. This is taking vandalism and goonda-gardi to new heights.&lt;br /&gt;I really do no know why Mr Raj Thackerey has to resort to such cheap tricks for gaining power. Its nothing new considering the same was done in Tamilnadu against HINDI, then in Karnataka against TAMILIANS and now here in Maharashtra against NORTH INDIANS. Shiv Sena had taken to a similar act of thoughtlessness against South Indians 3 decades back.&lt;br /&gt;But all I want to know is that in these kinds of fights, where do people like me stand? My parents are born and brought up in Tamilnadu and Kerala. Half of my life was spent in Delhi and the rest has been spent settling in Mumbai. I have nothing in Tamilnadu except my roots. I have nothing in Delhi except sweet childhood memories. I decided to settle down in Mumbai because of the opportunities here. Both my daughters are born here. They are Maharashtrians by birth but their mother tongue is Tamil. I never looked at Mumbai as a foreign city. Delhi or Mumbai, it was always a place in My Motherland which I saw.&lt;br /&gt;Does it not hold good for many of those north Indians settled here? Mumbai is a big flourishing city today only because of the outsiders who decided to settle here. If not for them, this place would have still been a village. Each one of us, so-called-outsiders, have contributed in some or the other way to its growth. And this is the reward we get for accepting Mumbai and toiling our blood and sweat here. Today it is North Indians; who knows what these lunatics will think of tomorrow. They must be taught a lesson. The government should take strict measures to curb them. I have come to office inspite of the trouble being created by MNS workers only because I will not support the cause of the Bandh against the arrest of Raj.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Raj Thackereys son is apparently studying in an English Medium school and has taken to German as his second language. Then what right does this man have to talk about Marathi Manoos? What is this cause he keeps flaunting? Are his followers blind? Cant they see they are being used? I even know of few of my educated-sensible-Marathi-colleagues who are his supporters which I find preposterous! Probably they will understand only if they move out of their home-state!!! The worst part is that in this fight for votes and power, it is the common man who suffers. This common man is Marathi; he is also Punjabi; also a Tamilian and also a Bihari! It is really a pitiable situation!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sometimes feel we were better off before 1947. If the Britishers were still ruling us, we would have stood united; and loved our nation more than our language/place/religion. All this talk of Indian Shining seems dull when you see such political dramas taking place around you. Sigh! If wishes were horses……&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-1814078244941629436?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/1814078244941629436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=1814078244941629436' title='30 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/1814078244941629436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/1814078244941629436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2008/10/down-with-gunda-raj.html' title='Down with GUNDA &quot;RAJ&quot;'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>30</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-2509596726124245940</id><published>2008-10-18T15:24:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-10-18T15:29:18.936+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recipes sweet-tooth Diwali'/><title type='text'>Sweetiepie I love you sooo!</title><content type='html'>God has blessed me with 32 sweet tooth out of which 1 has already been removed thanks to cavities! But God forgot to bless me with an infinite capacity to burn those extra calories that come as a big thick string attached to all those sweets I gorge upon. I ask Him for the Nth time “why are the best things in life illegal, immoral and fattening?” Maybe He wants to teach me that nothing in life is for free; that for every benefit there is a cost; that I must keep on my toes always like all other animals on this planet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK enough of digression! Like I was saying, I have been too fond of sweets ever since I set foot on Earth. I can hog plates and plates of gulab jamuns; to the extent I won an informal gulab-jamun-eating competition while in college ;) I start consuming mysore pak right off the pan even before it is poured on the plate to be cooled and cut into bars. I start drooling even while the cake is getting solidified inside the oven; its smell making me float like Tom of the Disneyland! There is no boundary when it comes to sweet for me. From West Bengal to Gujarat; from Kashmir to Kanyakumari; anything with a dash of sugar or jaggery can woo me easily. Whether Jalebi or Jangiri, Roshogulla or Besan Ladoo, there is hardly a sweet I can say NO to. Why, I even go international! As long as there is no raw-egg-smell, I am fine with it. Cakes, pastries, doughnuts are great mood-lifters! I can eat chocolates even when woken up from sleep.&lt;br /&gt;But now comes the twist in the tale! Though a good eater of sweets, I can hardly make them ;) My first attempt at cake made it too powdery (I guess too much of soda!) The second got itself burnt! There are 2 sweets which over the years have resigned to me unable to bear my constant nagging attempts. Let me share them with all those looking for such quick fixes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One is called Cooker Payasam. Very very simple, I say.&lt;br /&gt;1) Pour some water in the (pressure) cooker.&lt;br /&gt;2) In another vessel (preferably a little tall one), pour half a litre of milk and add a handful of rice.&lt;br /&gt;3) Put this vessel inside the cooker and let the cooker blow one whistle.&lt;br /&gt;4) Reduce the flame and let the cooker be on low flame without removing the whistle for 20 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;5) Let the cooker cool down. Remove the vessel, add sugar as per your taste and let it boil directly for a minute.&lt;br /&gt;6) Add garnishings in the form of fried cashewnut and cardamom powder.&lt;br /&gt;Your kheer is ready J Cool, isn’t it? No need of constant stirring and your kheer comes out thick and pink!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second sweet is called 7-cup-cake. Please do not misunderstand this as sponge and baked cake. By cake, generally, we Tamilians mean sweet bars. Anything in the shape of cuboid :) So heres the simple recipe!&lt;br /&gt;1) The 7 cup adds as 3 cup sugar (gulp! Oh its OK, we will go for 1 hour walking everyday for the next 365 days ;) + 1 cup besan (gram flour) + 1 cup ghee + 1 cup milk + 1 cup grated coconut&lt;br /&gt;2) Mix all the above ingredients and put the mixture on the pan.&lt;br /&gt;3) Keep stirring the mixture until the mixture thickens and leaves the side of the pan (this should take appx 1 hour)&lt;br /&gt;4) Pour the mixture on a plate waxed with ghee&lt;br /&gt;5) Allow the mixture to cool, cut it in squares and invert the plate on a piece of paper.&lt;br /&gt;And you are done! For added taste, you can roast the gram flour before adding other ingredients.&lt;br /&gt;So, THIS is going to be the sweet I plan to make this year( AGAIN !!!!) for Diwali. The rest are going to be ordered. Krishna (Sweets) saves all damsels in distress, you see! So, it might be jangiri or maybe badusha or maybe rava laadoo or teratti paalu or sigh, maybe all of them ;) Me and my sweet 31!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-2509596726124245940?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/2509596726124245940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=2509596726124245940' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/2509596726124245940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/2509596726124245940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2008/10/sweetiepie-i-love-you-sooo.html' title='Sweetiepie I love you sooo!'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-4824256943972108685</id><published>2008-10-13T14:40:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-10-13T14:45:55.479+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bommai Kolu'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book Review'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Update'/><title type='text'>The Fancy Fortnight</title><content type='html'>Just packed up all the golu dolls and set the living room as it is normally. Last fortnight, my eyes didn’t even have the time to soak in the newly painted walls of my house and revel in it (before they are begrimed by the folks that inhabit the house!)! This week will be devoted for them only ;)&lt;br /&gt; -----&lt;br /&gt; Just 2 days back, one of our company buses met with a horrible accident. One of our colleagues expired (male, 50+) and 2 more are in critical condition, apart from many others who have injuries ranging from mental trauma to severe cuts and bruises. Thinking of them makes me sad. When I leave for office in the morning, “death” is certainly not something which I think of. I only see a day full of workload and deadlines. By the time evening sets in, my mind again only travels towards my kitchen and the pending household chores. That colleague of mine must have been under the same state of mind when the bus was hit by a truck and snuffed out the life of him. His children were just settling down. He still had to feel his grandchildren on his lap. He still had miles to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe he was lucky. He didn’t suffer the way I see one 95+ old woman suffering in my neighbourhood; and its not just her, its even her children who are suffering seeing her bed ridden. But that’s a different story for another post, another time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May God bless his soul and may God give strength to his family to bear the loss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phew! Finally finished reading “Chowringhee”!!! The book was gifted to me by one of my very good friends almost a month back and hailed as a classic. In his own words “Some books are just well written; the rest are immortal works”. Knowing his taste, I knew I was not going to be disappointed. So, I relished each and every page of the book and took my own sweet time to finish it; thanks also to the festive month.&lt;br /&gt;The book originally written by Mani Sankar Mukherjee and published in 1962, has been translated by Arunava Sinha. It makes for a wonderful read if you wish to get an insight into the machinery called a hotel; the tears behind the smiles that greet you; the lives that thread together to form the fabric of hospitality; the stories behind the home away from home. Set in the 50’s, the book is a wonderful dedication to a metropolis and its people.&lt;br /&gt;The story is a first-person account by Shankar, who has just joined a hotel called Shahjahan in the city of Kolkata. Here he meets Marco Polo- the manager, Sata-Bose- the receptionist, Karabi Guha – the hostess, Sujata – the air hostess, Connie- the cabaret dancer and as the stories seamlessly weave around each of them, the characters bloom into a larger than life narration who help Shankar learn his lessons of life. The style of writing is poetic at places and you can’t help becoming dreamy eyed. It’s the kind of book that you may read again and again and yet find something novel each time.&lt;br /&gt;I am told that Suchitra Sen has based the movie 36 Chowringhee Lane on this very book. I have not yet seen the movie but after reading the book, I would surely like to watch it some day soon.&lt;br /&gt;-------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday evening, we went out to eat and I had the yummiest vegetable cheesy steak sizzlers after quite some time and I hogged over it like a pig; so much that I am sure my daughters will refuse to acknowledge me out in public places anymore. But seriously, I bow to all of thee who are great cooks; it surely is an art that defies me. How I wish I could cook all those magnetic delicacies which pulls my kids to the dining table every supper-time, happily, rather than being dragged there at gun-point! Sigh. I can only thank God that the way to my better-half’s heart is not necessarily through his stomach and he is not a fussy eater. Or maybe the poor guy just does not have a choice :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-4824256943972108685?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/4824256943972108685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=4824256943972108685' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/4824256943972108685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/4824256943972108685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2008/10/fancy-fortnight.html' title='The Fancy Fortnight'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-2825542371533710138</id><published>2008-10-08T11:00:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2008-10-08T11:06:31.052+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Lazy! Crazy! Lamhen</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;NOTE:&lt;br /&gt;Drafted: before the navratri started&lt;br /&gt;Posted: on the last day of the navratri geee&lt;br /&gt;(you get the drift.... lazy lazy lazy me!!!!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its Navratri time yet again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;# Its time for my yearly quota of the social meets. I realize that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;out of 500 odd flats in my colony, I know only about roughly 30 families. Gosh! What kind of social animal am i?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;# Its time for making atleast my living room sittable. As for the rest of the house, you see, the toppling clothes from my cupboard refuse to stay put in their places, the books refuse to go back into their shelves, the dust refuses to leave the various nooks and corners of my house!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;# Its time for taking out the sleeping dolls and idols from the loft and making a display of them on the odd number of steps. I had decided I will arrange the dolls in form of some theme this year but the wheel of time rotated faster than I could manage to run behind it. Maybe next year then!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;# Its time for buying return gifts for my women friends. As per the tradition, we are supposed to invite women and girls and give them haldi, kumkum, coconut, paan leaves, betel nut, fruit and blouse pieces. But in these days of matching and perfect blouse pieces, these then become something that’s either circulated back or thrown and forgotten. So, I have given out small hand towels instead. Hope they are useful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;# Its time for making Sundals- the special timepass khana made of soaked and boiled pulses and a tadka of mustard, kadipatta, and coconut on it. This is actually one of the attractions of these 9 days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;# Its time for taking out my sleeping silk sarees from the cupboard &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;and airing them by wearing them :) This year a special mail is in circulation in Mumbai as per which we have 9 colour code for the 9 days. So, women are supposed to be dressed as per the colour. Today happens to be PINK day!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;# Last but not the least , its time for DANDIYA. How I love to close my eyes and dance bindaas. Today and tomorrow are the designated days that we will have dandiya in our colony. Looking forward to that now!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;That’s the update from my end. How has Navratri been for you?&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-2825542371533710138?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/2825542371533710138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=2825542371533710138' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/2825542371533710138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/2825542371533710138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2008/10/lazy-crazy-lamhen.html' title='Lazy! Crazy! Lamhen'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-2969947716853860768</id><published>2008-08-25T21:46:00.009+05:30</published><updated>2008-09-02T15:10:46.211+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Childhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tags'/><title type='text'>Que Sera Sera</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;When I was just a little girl&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I asked my mother, what will I be&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Will I be pretty, will I be rich&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Here's what she said to me.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que Sera, Sera,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Whatever will be, will be&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The future's not ours, to see&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que Sera, Sera What will be, will be.!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How true can that be! Future is not ours to see. How easy life seems when you are still a nipper. Everything seems within your grasp – be it sun, star, be it a profession that is dreamt of, be it becoming famous and rich! How innocent can childhood be. No wonder that we yearn for it once we grow up to realize the harsh realities of life. That nothing in the world comes for free. That life is full of ups and downs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://amateurabe.blogspot.com/"&gt;Abha &lt;/a&gt;tagged me to list down 7 of my childhood memories. Thanks Abha, I so needed something to wake up my sleeping blog ;) Frankly, my list would not be much different from yours, but nevertheless here I go.&lt;br /&gt;1) RICK-IE PANTING!&lt;br /&gt;My earliest of memories takes me to cycle rickshaws. I grew up in a town very close to Delhi. Those were the days when cars were still considered a luxury and the town being small, cycle rickshaws were the most favoured mode of transport. I even had a rickshaw-wala to drop and pick me up from school (like the buses and vans of today). My favourite place in the rickshaw was at the back. It was bench like protrusion facing the opp side. It’s a different story that now I pity the rickshaw drivers who toiled and pulled on the cycles to ease our movement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238503235289855490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SLLm8A4vtgI/AAAAAAAAABM/ugnysLjWScY/s320/cyclerick.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;2) COFFEE WITH BOLLYWOOD&lt;br /&gt;I guess that the love for movies has something to do with the chromosomes. My kids are testimony to the fact and my father’s favourite time pass is bolly-molly-woods! So, you should not have any doubts about me being a movie freak too. When India had not yet seen multiplexes and when movies meant big halls with creaking fans, we, as in, my parents, my bro and me, would make it a point to go for a weekend outing to those halls. It used to be a big occasion with even coffee being carried in thermos flasks and lot of farsans and some such to munch on (with popcorns being counted under luxuries). We have seen all the hits as well as flops of the 80s.&lt;br /&gt;3) GORI TERA GAON BADA PYARA&lt;br /&gt;A vacation to my grandparent’s village was something I looked forward to, each summer when Delhi and the other northern areas used to be scorching and frying everyone and everything. Whether it was the pond next door, or the clean and huge temples with its never ending alleys, whether it was a life without TVs, or the wells where we used to draw out the water using rope and pulley, whether there were fights amongst us cousins for the only table fan in the house or the get-togethers during festivals, the village life had its own charm. This will always remain one of my fondest memories of my childhood.&lt;br /&gt;4) LOH-PATH-GAMINI!&lt;br /&gt;The 36 hours of train travel when we went to Chennai from Delhi again was an occasion of sorts. The packing of clothes was something for my mother to decide but “how to spend time” during those 36 hours was something which required careful planning. Playing Cards were the most favoured option followed by books. Those were the times when Nancy was my heroine and I spent many a train journey with her solving all those cryptic mysteries. Then ofcourse, there always was the option of Antakshari. The train journeys were memorable since they also gave us the chance to mingle with unknown people who shared the journey and the destination with us and yet all led different lives. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238503910791349330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SLLnjVU2hFI/AAAAAAAAABU/8I8N-Bo60Vc/s200/indian-railways.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) MASTI KI PATHSHALA&lt;br /&gt;Now that my children are in the middle school and I hear of the tales of mutual leg-pulling, troubling some teachers, liking some teachers, fight for lunch boxes, the nervousness before getting the papers, running to the loo during the class, praises and awards, punishments, group project works, assemblies, the choir group, the fights between the houses and classes for getting to the top, the walk back home with friends, the angst to become the monitor and trouble the people we fight with….. and more, I am transported to my own times. How similar all school times are and yet how unique that we cherish them :)&lt;br /&gt;6) SAREE TIMES&lt;br /&gt;One of our favourite pastime was trying to ape our elders. Sometimes, mummy-daddy, sometimes teacher-teacher, sometimes doctor-patient, the names were different but the aim was one- acting :) Infact, begging mom for a saree and then draping it haphazardly gave some kind of immense pleasure. When my daughters did the same, I could imagine what a sight I had made way back then!&lt;br /&gt;7) AAJA NACHLE&lt;br /&gt;I loved, I love dancing and I will always love dancing. Luckily my mother saw this passion of mine and got me enrolled in Indian classical dance classes. I used to love going for them. I took part in number of performances and had the chance to visit a lot of places along with my Guru. Though its a pity that the hobby got lost in the whole humdrum of living, and has mellowed down with age, the child in me still cant hold back herself during the seasons of Garbha and Dandiyas. Ah! I truly miss those days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that its time to wake from my sleep and plan for tomorrow :)&lt;br /&gt;I wish to pass on the time to dream to &lt;a href="http://books-life-n-more.blogspot.com/"&gt;Smita&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://couchpapaya.blogspot.com/"&gt;Couchpapaya&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://bouncing-bubble.blogspot.com/"&gt;Bubbles &lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://moregarbles.blogspot.com/"&gt;Garbles&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://booksbyrotten.blogspot.com/"&gt;AVDI&lt;/a&gt;! Dream on, girls, dream on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-2969947716853860768?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/2969947716853860768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=2969947716853860768' title='28 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/2969947716853860768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/2969947716853860768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2008/08/que-sera-sera.html' title='Que Sera Sera'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uOpLs1blUOI/SLLm8A4vtgI/AAAAAAAAABM/ugnysLjWScY/s72-c/cyclerick.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>28</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-4273822146540247347</id><published>2008-07-19T10:28:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2008-07-19T11:29:50.725+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shopping'/><title type='text'>Down the memory lane</title><content type='html'>Ever since I received that sms, my hands were itching. I am a supposed priviledged customer of Pantaloons having ensured them a good revenue. So, they keep tempting me with their promotional smses highlighting the words D I S C O U N T and S A L E. Most of the times, I abide by what my head instructs rather that getting led by what my heart pleads. But this time was different. I was not exactly in a good mood thanks to some cold war in office and pampering myself was one way to unwind.&lt;br /&gt;So, off I went to their outlet. I selected 2 dresses but then saw a big queue at their trial rooms and decided to just pay up and get them. I came home and then, I found one of the dresses was well...err.... tight. I dare not tell you which size I had picked up. So, as per the norm, I returned promptly to their store the next day to get it exchanged. Well, I might write another post someday on this capricious mind of mine!&lt;br /&gt;All formalities done, I was checking some dresses, when I felt someone tapping on my shoulder. I turned and saw a woman of appx my age, squinting her eyes and pointing her finger at me asking me "are you so-and-so".&lt;br /&gt;I said "yes"... and then I searched every nook and corner of my brain for some hint as to who this person was. But all I drew from there was a blank response which I promptly returned to the lady and with an embarrassed look questioned "and you are ....???".&lt;br /&gt;She seemed taken aback by my display of bad memory and replied "Aprajita". The name sounded familiar and I needed some time to get to the exact point in time where I could relate to her.&lt;br /&gt;So, I involuntarily answered "HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII, How ARE you? Its been ages!" keeping my fingers crossed that it should not so turn out that we met just a few days back. Meanwhile, my mind did a quick ctrl+f on the name "Aprajita" and there I landed nearly 20 years back in time, to class 7 where I did happen to have a classmate by that name.&lt;br /&gt;But I needed to confirm it and asked her "so what did you do after leaving the school", and while she answered all my doubts were cleared and I realised that she indeed was the one!&lt;br /&gt;She had changed a little in terms of her hair style and the attire. She used to be more of long hair and orthodox sort of a girl. Now here she was in her blunt cut and clad in Jeans and T. No wonder, I consoled myself, I could not recognise her.&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, there I was. All bloated up and double, triple the size, and still she DID remember me. It was good really meeting her and going down the memory lane but later I mulled over why my memory fell short. I found this on the net&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;em&gt;Time plays a major role in the memory process. Weakening and blurring engrams we never use, is a reality. Past experiences are constantly slipping away from us,&lt;br /&gt;some rapidly and others imperceptibly. Daniel Schacter, M.D. says, "Forgetting,&lt;br /&gt;though often frustrating, is an adaptive feature of our memories. We tend to&lt;br /&gt;remember only what is important and meaningful in our lives -- we don't need to&lt;br /&gt;remember everything that has ever happened to us; engrams that we never use are probably best forgotten. The cognitive psycholgoist John Anderson has argued&lt;br /&gt;convincingly that forgetting memories over time is an economical response to the&lt;br /&gt;demands placed on memory by the enviornment in which we live. We are better off forgetting trivial experiences than clogging our minds with each and every&lt;br /&gt;ongoing event."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;This makes it worse. Did I treat that friend of mine as trivial while she retained me as important? Too much to think! Forget it! But this incident did remind me of Ushas, &lt;a href="http://agelessbonding.blogspot.com/2008/06/memory-lane-closed-for-repair.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-4273822146540247347?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/4273822146540247347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=4273822146540247347' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/4273822146540247347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/4273822146540247347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2008/07/down-memory-lane.html' title='Down the memory lane'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-5688659377684291868</id><published>2008-06-18T12:49:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-19T17:50:45.635+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Website'/><title type='text'>Centre of Internet</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Man has since time immemorial tried to fnd out about the centre of Universe. He did succeed in finding the centre of Solar System. We also know about centre of Gravity. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Have you ever wondered that there just might be a centre of Internet too? Did you ever think where it might be?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is an interesting site I landed in.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Check it out and dont forget to thank me :))&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.exactcenteroftheinternet.com/"&gt;http://www.exactcenteroftheinternet.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-5688659377684291868?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/5688659377684291868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=5688659377684291868' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/5688659377684291868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/5688659377684291868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2008/06/thanks-to-all.html' title='Centre of Internet'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-3425727720423331817</id><published>2008-06-14T14:23:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-14T16:03:35.348+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='monsoons weight-loss'/><title type='text'>The Magical Monsoons of Mumbai</title><content type='html'>Yes, friends. Its pouring cats, dogs, hippos, rhynos, in Mumbai. And what do you think I am upto?&lt;br /&gt;I am sitting in front of my PC in my OFFICE! Yeah, you heard me right. What a waste of time and rain! Luckily I am placed such that if I look up from my screen I can peep out of a window. Not everyone is as lucky and I sure count that as a blessing. I have pulled the blinds up and am staring longingly at them, the clouds and the rain. The rain is pattering wildly against the window creating a translucent mosaic of the scene outside. I see the traffic outside braving against the rains. I see men, women and kids with their colourful umbrellas looking like a blooming flower. Roads and vehicles looking washed and sparkling. For that matter, even the leaves of the trees. Sighs, I wish I was at home. This climate is not meant to be working on deadlines or powerpoint presentations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While at it, I cant help drooling over pakodas. Yes, thats the need of this hour. I want them as badly as a pregnant lady yearns for the proverbial mangoes. I am about to pick up my wallet and run to the canteen.&lt;br /&gt;"What about that excessive fat accumulated around you?", cries my conscience.&lt;br /&gt;"Dont you remember what my little one said yesterday?" I reply to it.&lt;br /&gt;Incidentally, we were pouring over our old albums and my little one had clearly announced her preference for the cuddly-rolly-polly-mom-of-today to that skinny-scrawny-girl who got married to her appa years back.&lt;br /&gt;So, this goes for you, my little one; 1 plate pakodas please!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-3425727720423331817?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/3425727720423331817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=3425727720423331817' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/3425727720423331817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/3425727720423331817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2008/06/magical-monsoons-of-mumbai.html' title='The Magical Monsoons of Mumbai'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-2729336817905903964</id><published>2008-06-07T16:28:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-07T16:29:15.001+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cricket'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='IPL'/><title type='text'>The Grand Finale</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Seems like I have been doing only tags and tags :) Shows how lazy I have become even to think and type. Grrrr.. Cmon, girl, pull up your salwar and socks!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I must share a piece of happening with you all. Some news which we want to store in the memory box and keep retrieving to relive and what best way other than to write it down as a diary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hubby has been a sports-speaking-person. He belongs to the breed who can speak about sports and he claims he was the captain of his college team but I am yet to check out the story. I have never been into sports at all. I remember once finishing 4th in the 200 metre race, but did I miss telling you there were only 4 participants. You get the point!&lt;br /&gt;So, when we realised that the finals of the IPL was going to be played at a stadium which was just a stones throw away from where we stay, hubby dear jumped up from the couch, threw the remote (while I couldnt believe my eyes), and ran around frantically until we had 4 tickets with us. I was not too keen on going but then I had never seen a cricket match live and so I agreed to join him with my 2 girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I must tell you that my elder one is one big Dravid fan. She dreams Dravid, she thinks Dravid and she sees Dravid - just short of eating him up! Younger one is a Dhoni fan... maybe even an air conditioner!&lt;br /&gt;Coming to the event, we all have changed colours and sides ever since IPL started and how. I, for one, began supporting Mumbai Indians, shifted to Kolkatta, back to Mumbai Indians but finally settled on supporting Chennai Superkings. So much for my loyalty. In any case, on the D-Day, out came our bright yellow T-shirts. I wanted to carry 4 bottles of Coke, some wafers, some eatables, some tissues and was getting the whole backpack ready when I was informed by hubby dear that &lt;b&gt;we are not going on a trip, mam. we are going to watch a match and they do not allow even one bottle of water inside the stadium &lt;/b&gt;What the @#$%$#%. Disappointed I was but then did not have much choice. Sighs!&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, armed with binoculars, we eagerly and promptly reported to the stadium at 6. The program was supposed to start at 6:30&lt;br /&gt;Let me briefly summarise my observations.&lt;br /&gt;1) The stadium isnt as huge as it seems when viewed sitting in your living room inside a 29 inch box.&lt;br /&gt;2) Closing ceremony was awesome. The laser show and the acrobatics were the highlights. Salman disappointed by being just an advertisement for his TV show that he hosts. The other dances were OK!&lt;br /&gt;3) Anyone-who-is-someone-to-be-seen were at a distance. You need binoculars to look at them. Thats how I ogled at my childhood heart-throb Aamir Khan, while my young ones ogled at Dhoni :D&lt;br /&gt;4) You cannot watch the wonderful expressions on the faces of the players. I tried to read their lips through the binocular to see if someone was calling another one monkey or some such but no luck.&lt;br /&gt;5) The atmosphere is quite charged in stadiums and its addictive&lt;br /&gt;6) I even managed to whistle (oh yes, I can do that with my two fingers pressed inside the lips;) a couple of times to the chagrin of my daughters who wanted to disown me right there!&lt;br /&gt;7) We blew up a lot of money on Pepsi, Burger, Water and Ice Cream.&lt;br /&gt;8) Just one day before the finals, a bomb was detected and defused in one of the auditoriums near our palce. So, I found myself checking for unclaimed bags.&lt;br /&gt;9) Cheerleaders are as popular as the players.&lt;br /&gt;10) I missed the running commentary but my neighbour compensated by calling up someone every now and then.&lt;br /&gt;On the whole, it was a different but a wonderful experience. I do not know if I can sit through a test match or an ODI, but T-20 is a quickie to be enjoyed for sure. If a person like me, whose knowledge on the subject of cricket is zilch can write so much about it, then IPL is surely a hit and finale was grand indeed&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-2729336817905903964?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/2729336817905903964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=2729336817905903964' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/2729336817905903964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/2729336817905903964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2008/06/grand-finale.html' title='The Grand Finale'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-849368423060268138</id><published>2008-06-07T14:16:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-07T14:17:17.813+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tags'/><title type='text'>Love Tag!</title><content type='html'>First off, a big bear hug to &lt;a href="http://myaalochane.blogspot.com/"&gt;Suma&lt;/a&gt;! You dont know how great it feels to be entangled in the world wide web of love tag. It feels wonderful to be loved and cared by someone whom you have never met and yet with whom there is such an emotional bonding that it feels like we have known each other for ages. Thanks Suma :)&lt;br /&gt;Coming to the tag, once tagged, you have to copy paste the link in this post, add your name and make them grow! So, here it grows....&lt;br /&gt;BennyLiew, RamblingMoo, Mum &amp;amp; Kids In Wonderland, Judelittle, Our mini blogsphere, Rooms in My Heart, http://janiceng.blogspot.com/, ChinNee, Jo-N, LadyJava's Lounge, Strange but True, Mariuca's Perfume Gallery,Meet Uncle J-Uncle J, Farah,aNgRiAniWoRLd,How’s Life Bout,The Three Heroes, Ceedy, Veena, Suma, whatsinaname&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for spreading the love to others, I tag the following people who I know are loved a lot and yet I want them to know I love them too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://agelessbonding.blogspot.com/"&gt;Usha&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://jottingsmine.blogspot.com/"&gt;JLT&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://amateurabe.blogspot.com/"&gt;Abha&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://myaalochane.blogspot.com/"&gt;Suma&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://myamusingmind.blogspot.com/"&gt;Swati&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://penningmythoughts.com/ddmomsweblog"&gt;DDMom&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://doiwrite.blogspot.com/"&gt;NM&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://myownpenseive.blogspot.com/"&gt;Lavs&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://nicetimepass.blogspot.com/"&gt;Timepass &lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://saynaasomething.blogspot.com/"&gt;STS&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spread the message of love!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-849368423060268138?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/849368423060268138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=849368423060268138' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/849368423060268138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/849368423060268138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2008/06/love-tag_07.html' title='Love Tag!'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-7926590569734522845</id><published>2008-06-05T15:02:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-05T15:40:03.426+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tags'/><title type='text'>The one important word "I"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://agelessbonding.blogspot.com/2008/06/what-doc-ordered.html"&gt;Usha &lt;/a&gt;tagged me this time. Thanks, Usha. It feels nice to be remembered. How did you know "I" like tags about "I", gee :) But yes, they are fast to do. They dont require me to think much as my world revolves around "I". So, here "I" go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am&lt;/strong&gt;: a sentimental fool trying to change me-self always :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I think&lt;/strong&gt;: a lot! Even unnecessary petty things bother me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I know&lt;/strong&gt;: I need to update my blogs more often… trying trying trying…don’t give up on me yet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I want:&lt;/strong&gt; to be loved and liked by all and I know its not possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have&lt;/strong&gt;: hubby, kids, roti, kapda, makaan and I thank God for them all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish&lt;/strong&gt;: life was simpler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I hate&lt;/strong&gt;: people who are dishonest, cheeky and get away with their wrong-doings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I miss&lt;/strong&gt;: 24 inches waistline :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I fear&lt;/strong&gt;: Nostradamus predictions that world will end some day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I feel&lt;/strong&gt;: nostalgic when I hear the tales of their class from my daughters. A sense of déjà vu!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I hear&lt;/strong&gt;: the mobile ring often :). Did I just let the secret out that I talk a lot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I smell&lt;/strong&gt;: the monsoons approaching. I want the rains soon in Mumbai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I crave&lt;/strong&gt;: for praises. You can try them on me ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I search&lt;/strong&gt;: for a pen when someone calls. That’s precisely the time it gets lost!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wonder&lt;/strong&gt;: how fast the time flies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I regret&lt;/strong&gt;: not taking up Bharatanatyam more seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I love&lt;/strong&gt;: living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I ache&lt;/strong&gt;: for those fighting for their bread and butter but I believe in Karma too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I care&lt;/strong&gt;: that others should not end up getting hurt by my words or deeds even at the cost of my own hurt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am not&lt;/strong&gt;: as simple and carefree as I seem to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I believe&lt;/strong&gt;: in God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I dance&lt;/strong&gt;: even if someones watching and I DON’T CARE! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I sing&lt;/strong&gt;: fine enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I cry&lt;/strong&gt;: while watching sad flicks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I don’t always&lt;/strong&gt;: scream. Just when I get mad and that happens only 18 hrs in a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I fight&lt;/strong&gt;: a lot. Ask hubby. Ask my bro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I write&lt;/strong&gt;: horribly. My handwriting is atrocious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I win&lt;/strong&gt;: or not, I am ready to play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I lose&lt;/strong&gt;: but I don’t give up easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I never&lt;/strong&gt;: fall back on promises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I always&lt;/strong&gt;: need people around me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I confuse&lt;/strong&gt;: everyone around me successfully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I listen&lt;/strong&gt;: with my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I can usually be found&lt;/strong&gt;: in the form of a potato on the couch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am scared&lt;/strong&gt;: of slow death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I need&lt;/strong&gt;: someone to encourage me always. I lack confidence.  Probably Usha guessed it and tagged me ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am happy about&lt;/strong&gt;: what I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And "I" pass on this tag to &lt;a href="http://jottingsmine.blogspot.com/"&gt;JLT&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://amateurabe.blogspot.com/"&gt;Abha&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://myaalochane.blogspot.com/"&gt;Suma&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://saynaasomething.blogspot.com/"&gt;Somethingtosay&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, get going girls. Time to think about "U" again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-7926590569734522845?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/7926590569734522845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=7926590569734522845' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/7926590569734522845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/7926590569734522845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2008/06/one-important-word-i.html' title='The one important word &quot;I&quot;'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7175135092963212293.post-3187211065015180453</id><published>2008-04-27T20:41:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-10T15:19:09.803+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tags'/><title type='text'>Woman in a Mans world!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://myaalochane.blogspot.com/2008/03/kuch-khattikuch-meethi.html"&gt;Suma &lt;/a&gt;tagged me and asked me what are the 10 things I hate in men. Like she has beautifully said in her post &lt;em&gt;"After 14years of marriage, you cannot hate, you live with...Everyone has their flaws and no one's perfect..."&lt;/em&gt;, hate is too strong a word to be associated with. But yes, I do dislike some of hubby's habits and am sure I have certain habits he dislikes. I already know a few... which I am unable to change...geee.... the main one being he doesnt like me spending time on the net :(. Cmon girls, I ask you, whats wrong if I spend some time and that too as anonymously as possible with some like-minded girls!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK before I digress further, here I jot down some habits of MY MAN which I wish could disappear magically one fine day when I get up... or on second thoughts, let them be! Thats what makes life colourful.&lt;br /&gt;1.  His love for remote! Esp on sundays. I wish we could just sit as a family and talk and bitch rather than watch those dumb serials.&lt;br /&gt;2.  His mood tantrums. The way he sulks after we fight.  He has this habit of drawing back into his shell if he is too upset. I wish he should scream at me openly rather! Or maybe not :)&lt;br /&gt;3.  I wish he could be a little more bothered about neatness et al. But then I am no better :D So, when in a glass house, should I really throw the stone :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually I cant think of any more points. I find more of negatives in me. Its as if he is there to complement them. I get frustrated easily, while he tends to think patiently. I can be extremely kiddish, while he has learnt to deal with not 2, but 3 daughters :P&lt;br /&gt;So, hats off to my mans patience and wish you loads more!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7175135092963212293-3187211065015180453?l=towriteornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/feeds/3187211065015180453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7175135092963212293&amp;postID=3187211065015180453' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/3187211065015180453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7175135092963212293/posts/default/3187211065015180453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towriteornot.blogspot.com/2008/04/woman-in-mans-world.html' title='Woman in a Mans world!'/><author><name>WhatsInAName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07498298103761502178</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13780283896691640122'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>10</thr:total></entry></feed>