tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16398416750345168382024-03-13T22:00:07.926-10:00Jazz & All That JazzLIFE GOES BY...AND WHO KNOWS WHY!!Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.comBlogger224125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-73769387051772552522013-01-25T10:50:00.001-10:002013-01-26T21:27:21.174-10:00Kindered Thoughts.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>You know what.I have been slogging. Not exactly the way I tell about it.But exactly the way my posts are not been updated as the days are going by.So amidst the false interpretation of pre-exam study prep, I am gonna scribble a lit'l about thoughts till day in January.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Eating like crap is fine if it's literally pre-ice effect outside. That full-bowl of noodle & chicken, and yogurt and half-pan of brownies & the thought of swimming like real long, is gonna replenish the calories you burned being Miserably COLD.No. I am kidding.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>And this is not enough. While you head back to home after evening sessions, it was fun in campus. Alternately penguin-walking and sliding like I was the figure-skater I've always dreamed of being. I 've never gotten out of that fast from university to bus stop. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Being sore from running at 12-ish in cold night and walking a lot in those faded glory shoes, are both rewarding and humiliating.No, I don't always walk like a newborn filly.I bet you regret waiting and holding that door open for me since it's taking me my 25 years to actually get there. Sorry, Um, could-you-tell-me-your-name-again-Cause-I-have-this-syndrome-that-I-don't-know-the-name.I'll just ask somebody or avoid your name..Um.. Okay.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>"Wow. You've got a good profile. Looks like you might have enjoyed those coding years back in India."- I am gonna have to pretend I didn't hear that.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>"Really solid abs. That's crazy. You should do that running thing every night. Like they do in videos."- Can we talk something else, Cause it's not good while you're getting total 10 toes cramps. I'm just saying. : /</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>I don't know what is this. But recently, I have been dying to run in onesie. If you meet me on the way doing that, you probably would tell you don't know me, but I have been thinking a lot about this video, too.</b></span><br />
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-7035872705222071622013-01-06T10:17:00.001-10:002013-01-06T10:18:27.208-10:00Floridaaaaa : This summer I went Swimming<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>This could not have been better. Or a lot to take a toil on.My classes are getting started tomorrow. With all hopes and wishes for all I am going to plunge. Hope life has something more sweeter in the upcoming days.I have not had a chance of exploring the place all around though everything seems good to me. And yes. How can I forget about the swimming pools. Every inches I cross the road I see pools around. And our University pool is an amazing thing to happen to me I suppose.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>And my soundtrack for rest of the days till summer comes up and as long as I travel by RTS to classes would be: The Swimming Song- Loudon Wainwright 3.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>As long as I was roaming around the university departments it was ok. The time I entered to the department of recreational Center, It was something my heart started melting in the frozen spring.I am so looking forward to summer. </b></span></div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-41088824512503967832012-12-25T19:00:00.000-10:002012-12-25T19:01:11.964-10:00Capturing This Moment<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Life could not have been better. My room is an utter mess. I am moving to a whole new world in 2 days. I feel like I could stop yesterday's moments. The time with a special person would not rather wait. <span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;">I sort of feel like my brain fell out of my head. . . and I keep running in to her room since I reached my flat and jumping up and down and chattering away like I'm a freaking 16 year-old . . .and then I try to climb in my bed but I end up wiggling around shooting light beams out of all the orifices in my face. . .and then I finally calm down, enough to relax under the covers and let my mind ruminate . . . and I just smile. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I just wanted to Thank YOU.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">A full-teeth, cheek-stretching, eye-scrunching grin.</span><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" />This is going to be a happy time.May Be. No matter what the distance is.May Be.</span></span></div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-7552459270056351122012-12-15T23:26:00.002-10:002012-12-15T23:26:36.528-10:00Sunday Morning & Happenings...!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So, Howdy People..!! It's Sunday. I Kind of worked late last night and woke up earlier. I have been thoroughly happy. Talking about being happy this morning we had a major topic of conversation.As in total far-fetched situation, we started talking about the most awkward moments of our lives and there we were rolling on floor laughing out loudly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That was probably during my class 5 summer vacation. Cause on a working day I did not go to school.I was staring at TV whole day. My father was lying on the floor calculating something with some diaries around. Our main door was open and Ma was in the kitchen probably. Suddenly one fine lady opened the main gate of ours and I was peeping through the main-door curtain which I was doing by sitting on the sofa. She though looked unknown to me but with we-are-very-known-and-broad-smile kinda look she entered our home.In fact holding a big leaf in her hand. And crossing me in the dining room she approached to my father and told "Mr Sarangi, As you know you and me(we) are getting married this saturday, I have come here to invite you to our wedding party.Do come."(Of course in Oriya she told all these & Ran away like the same way she came).Ma & I were standing there around father gaping at him. With 2-3 minutes of figuring out what exactly happened, We all started laughing for like hours & hours. Mad People Amaze Us Most Of The Times .</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Just couple of months ago,I requested for a cab facility to avail as I started working in second shift.My roommate who was supposed to go with my cab has moved temporarily to another location and so she could not join me in.So some other office friend was coming over to my apartment to pick me up.She said she was gonna bring another friend near by, and then we'd go together to office. I had never seen that cab before, so I told her to call me when she got to my place.The text came: "<i style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">I'm here!</i>" I went out front and a little white car was parked in front of my apartment.It was already shiny & reflecting outside so I couldn't see through the windows.I just went and jumped in the backseat and dropped my bag near by.There, I found the a kid at the front seat started crying abruptly.Suddenly I jumped out of the car.And looked around.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">She was parked behind the car with her head out the window laughing at me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><strong style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">Awkward Story #3 (Last one.. I could go on forever)</strong></span><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" />At the end year of college, all 6 of us girls decided to go to stay in one apartment for preparing for some exams.We were searching for apartments in Bhubaneswar. We went to one apartment complex with huge living room windows! We thought that that would be a great place to live, so we walked inside the complex to check it out. All of us girls walked up to the large window of an apartment, cupped our hands to our faces, and peered in through the doors. <br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Turns out.. that apartment we decided to look into had their living room set up with their tv up against the window and a couch in front of it directly facing the tv (and naturally, the window). And it just so happened that the couch (and living room) was full of people watching a movie. And there we are, peering in through their living room window and making the most awkward eye contact with all of them. <br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Immediately, all of us took off running without a second thought.We were completely out of the complex,across the parking lot,and halfway across the street before we realized what had happpened,so we sat down in the middle of the road and just laughed and laughed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Adding on to some more situations it would be like, I once got into a toy car of my aunt's son,which had a closed case,just the doors were big.I was in class 6 then. I got stucked in there.And that took 20 minutes for my Ma to take me out of that small toy Car in front of all cousins.</span></div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-51492423889862432012-12-14T20:06:00.001-10:002012-12-14T20:06:54.417-10:00It Could Be Your Voice Too..!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">While I opened my mouth & said that "No Problem and I will do it."Two of those new people started laughing.With What-Kind-of-accent-is-that-LOOK.And I saw that look. I saw that look a lot at lots of people's faces. And So I thought I could write it down here.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">When I was in school days, </span><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">I almost was about to participate in a Inter-School-Competition.I stood next to a girl that sang so loudly that sometimes I plugged my ears. Although,I tried to pretend I just had really itchy ears so she wouldn't take it personally.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">Although I had deep interest in school debate and ex-tempore competitions.People Actually,would appreciate at times and made me the winner and at times have mocked at me that my voice never touched my epiglottitis.</span>I was a quiet singer.I wasn't even really a singer -- I just thought I could do it better than my sister who really have herself a soothing voice.I do that sometimes.Try for the things at first place and then give up.Anyway, Now,The girl next to me was loud enough for the both of us anyways.What did my voice matter?</span></div>
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<span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">Well,one day,our teacher decided every person in the class needed to sing a solo. We would go down each row, and the next person would sing the next line of the song. Crap.I had been too busy "scratching" my ears and folding my sheet music into a </span><a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?um=1&hl=en&safe=active&sa=N&biw=1680&bih=925&tbm=isch&tbnid=9FrHpX3seLk3qM:&imgrefurl=http://shivskies.wordpress.com/2011/02/26/sometimes-id-rather-cut-my-hair-off-than-brush-it/&docid=ymGhuYQFHTLz7M&imgurl=http://shivskies.files.wordpress.com/2011/02/fortune-teller.jpg&w=400&h=352&ei=_jfuT8j6L-W06gGU6NGAAw&zoom=1&iact=rc&dur=270&sig=118166104298857278574&page=1&tbnh=127&tbnw=141&start=0&ndsp=48&ved=1t:429,r:14,s:0,i:119&tx=101&ty=60" style="background-color: #d0e0e3; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;"><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">fortune teller</span></a><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">. . . . I couldn't sing!!My Song was "<b>HIND DESH KE NIWASI SABHI JAN EK HAI...</b>"!!</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">We started our activity and everything was flowing smoothly.From the top,row to row,probably around 30 students.I was nervous.Finally,our row was up and the person at the end began a new verse.The megaphone girl sang.Then it was my turn.I sang my part so softly that I'm not sure I even heard myself.The person next to me was drawing in a breath to start their line when... </span><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" /></span><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">My teacher stopped the class.</span><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" /></span><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">I was mortified. </span><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><i style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" /></span></i><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><b>"Swagatika, will you please come down to the front of the class for a second."</b></span><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" /></span><i style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">I'm so awful that I'm the only person to have to sing again . . . </i><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">I wish I could die on demand.</span><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" /></span><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">I walked to the front of the class thinking she was going to kick me out<i style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">.</i>I imagined her saying,<i style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">"It's a tough musical world out there, and some people just can't make it.Not even in a 7th grade competition that is open to any student. . . I think you would be better.... elsewhere.Maybe the band will take you."</i></span><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><i style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" /></span></i><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">She had her arm extended as an invitation for me to come right up next to her.She put her arm around my shoulder and held me tightly facing the entire class.I stared at the carpet in front of me and tried to humor myself be saying the carpet looked like vomit anyways,so I would gladly take my stuff and leave.</span><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" /></span><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">I braced myself for all the words and fears I imagined were about to come out of her mouth. She began to tell the class about the strength of some singers,that some people are naturally gifted with power in their voices,and many people come as natural, magnificent singers.(<i style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">Except for this young child...</i> My knees were shaking waiting for the final punch line. C'mon woman,yank off the band-aid a little faster).</span><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><i style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" /></span></i><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">"Except others have more gentle and serene voices, and these voices can really unify a choir and make it sound as one. Swagatika,[as she pulls me closer],is probably the quietest person in the whole class.I want to highlight her for a moment to say that even as one of the quietest people, she has one of the strongest voices."</span></span></div>
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<span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My whole life, I have believed myself to have a quiet and low-pitched or may be a creepy voice. </span></span></div>
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<span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I don't mean that I speak or sing at a light decibel [Although I guess that is true too].But in a setting where stories, ideas, and opinions are being shared,I am more comfortable as a preacher.I come from a quiet family.My Parents work and come back to home and make dinner and silently eat at the table and then go to sleep silently.Though I pretend to be an extrovert I am a default introvert.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">Yet, the inside of my head doesn't seem so quiet.It never has been.</span><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">I talk with my mom for hours and hours every week, and she's constantly telling me to write all my theories and funny stories out in a book.</span><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">When I get really comfortable with someone or I'm in my element, I just go -- stories, jokes, thoughts, and people ask, "Why aren't you like this all the time?"</span></span></div>
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<b style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I don't know!!</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">I've questioned myself about this hundreds of times, trying to psycho-analyze the cause of my suppressions. Do I think my stories aren't as funny? That I don't deliver my thoughts as eloquently?That others have "more powerful" voices than I do?</span></span><i style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><b>Why don't I have more confidence with my voice?</b> </i><span style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">It got started in standard 4,while after holding the mike in my hand the very first line of the ex-tempore competition was "<b>Oh My God, My Voice is gonna shiver</b>." In front of almost 8 school teachers & thousand of those students.And all started laughing at me.That could have been the worst day of my life.But I came over.It's Okay.</span></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Well,Really It's fine.I am over with it.Or may be I have accepted it the way it is.And I am telling you,I am fine with that look,You People.After all It's just a voice of any random person and It could do charms at times.May Be.</span></i></b></div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-49669526960332625102012-12-11T06:13:00.001-10:002012-12-11T06:17:10.595-10:00Oh, The Places You'll Go!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I will do ANYTHING besides preparing to pack my bag.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Did I tell you, I am moving! After a year trial my destination is defined. I am going to do my Masters in Information Systems & Operations Management at University Of Florida. And today happened to be the day, My Visa got delivered to my home.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And not so very surprisingly I am not happy. Just not happy. I knew it was about to happen. Anytime before I used to fancy Dr. Seuss telling "Oh the places you'll go".. and new people and lots of new things to learn and life moving on. It was enchanting of course. Till the time today. Suddenly ,but slowly, I have developed that fear inside me. Fear of moving away from everything in my very own country, office, flat and home & people. That word "change" is not so very easy to adhere to. Being on your own completely,in a small world and trying onto your goals was certainly so inspiring and when the goal is just some days away, I feel terribly alone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>I would rather clean my room, do the dishes, get amrita's mehndi done, look up old hindi movie videos on youtube, take my vitamins, fold laundry, sit on my bed, blog, watch my micromax bling charge, make a copy, quote movies, eat dark chocolate,sit in the cafeteria for hours, talking to near and dear ones about nothing valuable, eat chicken rolls every now and then, click a pen,stare at malgudi days book, lay on the floor, office swimming pool photo shoot, dream of swimming, and waiting to swim tomorrow after a long gap,drink coffee, stare out the window, talk to roomies about crushes, practice, do my hair, clip my nails, sort c.d.s, dust a shelf, read a book, read the paper, or talk to myself...</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">ANYTHING. Just as long as I don't have to do my packing.It bothers a lot. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Procrastination defines me. But alas, People have to move on...Neither Time waits for anybody nor I am a kiddo who is going to drop the plan forever. It has to work out. So off I go.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Hope my little life has something good to be unfolded.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Prayers! And prayers for all those who hold on to things till they get it done.</span></div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-65307464944329879632012-12-06T10:19:00.001-10:002012-12-06T10:19:51.794-10:00Three Little Words: You've Got Mail<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I eat,drink,breathe and live on the movie called You've Got Mail. I mean it's totally a parasitical relationship.<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.09090805053711px;">I wish I could take credit for what I am about to write, but I can't; Hollywood can however, but I would like to assure you that had I been born with brilliance or eloquence, I would have said this all a long time ago.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.09090805053711px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am writing this simply because every time I see this movie, I can't help but think: I am Kathleen Kelly. Her lines speak from my heart.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="line-height: 19.09090805053711px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life. Well, valuable, but small. And sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven't been brave? So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn't it be the other way around? I don’t really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void. So goodnight, dear void."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="line-height: 19.09090805053711px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I just want to say that all this nothing has meant more to me than so many somethings..."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="line-height: 19.09090805053711px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"No. No, but... but there's the dream of someone else. "</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="line-height: 19.09090805053711px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"People always say that change is a good thing, but what it really means is that something that you didn't want to happen, has happened."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="line-height: 19.09090805053711px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"What is that supposed to mean? I am so sick of that. All that means is that it wasn't personal to you. But it was personal to me...And what's so wrong with being personal, anyway?...Whatever else anything is, it ought to begin by being personal."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="line-height: 19.09090805053711px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I turn on my computer. I wait impatiently as it connects. I go online, and my breath catches in my chest until I hear three little words: You've got mail. I hear nothing. Not even a sound on the streets of New York, just the beating of my own heart. I have mail. From you."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="line-height: 19.09090805053711px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"When you read a book as a child, it becomes a part of your identity in a way that no other reading in your whole life does."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="line-height: 19.09090805053711px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I'm completely jealous. When I'm confronted by someone I get tongue tied and my mind goes blank. Then I spend the rest of the night tossing and turning over what I should have said."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And this is one of those best scenes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px; margin-top: 0px; outline: none 0px; text-align: left;">It’s coming on Christmas, they’re cutting down trees.</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;"> Do you know that Joni Mitchell song?</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; outline: none 0px; text-align: left;"> I wish I had a river I could skid away on.</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;"> Such a sad song. And not really about Christmas at all, but I was thinking about it tonight as I was decorating my Christmas tree; unwrapping funky ornaments made of popsicle sticks and missing my mother so much I almost couldn’t breathe. I always miss my mother at Christmas, but somehow it is worse this year since I need some advice from her. I need her to make me some cocoa and tell me that everything that’s going badly in my life will sort itself out.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="line-height: 19.09090805053711px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh, how I love this movie.</span></span></span></div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-56171763706907492762012-11-29T19:27:00.000-10:002012-12-05T09:12:15.062-10:00People and a lot of People..!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>Just a round. Couple of things. Couple of People.With couple of lives happening around. It's 10.10 am.Plugged in to " Dil me jaagi dhadkan jaise ". Let this post be about as opaque as everything here.</b></div>
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<b>Note #1</b></div>
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<b>Place: Karjat</b></div>
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<b>Time: 3.20am</b></div>
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<b>It was not dusky to be true.But it was dark but not gloomy.I was all alone clinging to my goals of catching the CST.Saw a shoeless, shawl less man shivering on the ground with a dog sleeping on him.Do you tend to offer the entangled shawl of yours to that man!! How would you have thought the world could get on to the way of humanity.</b></div>
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<b>Place: (Prakash Taran Pushkar)Bhopal</b></div>
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<b>Time: 4.30pm-ish</b></div>
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<b>There were 8 lanes of course.What did I see ? The 5th lane guy was having one leg.For heaven's sake, that moment I felt I seriously need to change my glasses. I am myopic and some days ago, somebody said I need a replacement for my pair of old specs. But this was not serious then. He was getting all pumped up with one leg and dived for butterfly kick.Yes. People do jump to water for that tremendous style with one leg too. My bad, I could not click him. But he is somewhere there in my brain and heart since that time. While you say this is a demented world, I look out for the word dement does really exist!!</b></div>
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<b>Note #3</b></div>
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<b>Place: Nectar Lab</b></div>
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<b>Time: I am not so sure</b></div>
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<b>42nd attempt of the day of a lady.In the preparation of Doxycycline. That had been series of failures since last couple of 5 hours, But the adherence in achieving the wanted ain't been broken.She toiled hard. And she amazes me.</b></div>
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<b>Its always been a mitzvah hovering around in every little things happenings and not settling for crumbs and trying on to something that you really want has never been easy.And those people who still are happy with all those catrilion moments are the reasons to jump up and up.</b></div>
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<b>It's alright not to get the PhD in the varities and being happy just losening up with all smorgasbord :)</b></div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-40380372114760347202012-11-26T05:24:00.001-10:002012-12-05T03:05:48.631-10:00While You Were Sleeping<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: black;"><strong>So this is about crazy coaches.Somedays before.It was winter and I was home and club swimming again at around 6.30am-ish.</strong></span><span style="color: black;"><strong>All the 18 and aboves were about to swim in a meet.That day the coach there...Let me describe how did he look </strong></span><span style="color: black;"><strong>and how did he react to me. I went up with my gym bag in one hand and asking,</strong></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><strong>"Coach,Could you train me up for the couple of weeks ahead. I kinda need to gear up for next meet."</strong></span><span style="color: black;"><br /><strong></strong></span><span style="color: black;"><strong>He: Yes.We can get started any moment you wish.Our tariffs are all here in the board start point.Don't forget to check out.</strong></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><strong>Guys,I am going to make that secret,as it's a very known pool around here and any of you may spy on me for that matter.</strong></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><br /><strong></strong></span><span style="color: black;"><strong>Warm Up: 80 free, 80 kick, 80 pull.</strong></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><strong>Main Set: 10x10 free, 5x20 IM, 16x50 stroke. </strong></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><strong>Warm Down: Easy 30 free. </strong></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><strong>I mean I am not that a learner but not that a pro,for heaven's sake.</strong></span><span style="color: black;"><br /><strong></strong></span><span style="color: black;"><strong>And it happened to be nightmare when I tried stopping in mid cause my teeth suddenly started aching and one ligament in </strong></span><span style="color: black;"><strong>right leg got so stretched </strong></span><span style="color: black;"><strong>that I could find a weird gap between my two toes.</strong></span><span style="color: black;"><br /><strong></strong></span><span style="color: black;"><strong>And then his screaming and whistle. </strong></span><span style="color: black;"><br /><strong></strong></span><span style="color: black;"><strong>The whole day I was remorsed and limping around office,like in total uncordinated mood. Any of you might have marked that,My bad,I should not have made that </strong></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><strong>a scene.</strong></span><span style="color: black;"><br /><strong></strong></span><span style="color: black;"><strong>I almost did not feel my feet and hands for some days after that and I ate like a mini whale.</strong></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><strong>My coach is crazy and I am funny.</strong></span></div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-64205800335230820362012-11-22T09:09:00.001-10:002012-11-22T09:09:56.967-10:00Bush Tucker Man<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Clinging on to whatever coming on the way.Been couple of days I forgot blogger site still works. People still amaze me. The same hackneyed happenings and new regular addiction in the evening: chicken chettinad roll.Andrew Zimmern,Jeff Corwin & Bush Tucker Man.Bush Tucker Man was a great tv series that aired long back,talked about various bush tucker available.I think they should totally bring it back.</span></b></div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-30145088026765421312012-11-07T10:34:00.005-10:002012-11-07T10:34:59.510-10:00You Think...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You think breaking a leg is easy... No. I am not about to gloat about my years old breaking-leg's ligament-saga.It's real break a leg saga. Since the time I came back from Nationals swimming, I have been thinking,like a lot. How do they do?I hop in to office cab, I plug in.It's steven curtis chapman's dive till the way I make it to office.I eat and I dream of being in water..And when I am getting free time I don't just forget to bing memes.Diwali is next week.Still have not have a chance to recall those old days fighting with her and complaining at papa that she took my extra two crackers. You never know. I may repeat this time too. We are travelling home. Four of us under one roof and talking about what-nots and ma's cup of chai. And gardens basil leaves smell in the evening while she waters, may be. The very thought of home is s<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">o satisfying. I'm now hitting a wall and need a coffee despite the thought </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">that over-dosage of coffee may fetch me my own gravitational pull.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's a decadent, need-to-be-nowhere in morning. Life is good...!!</span></span></div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-33002585923947785122012-11-01T05:44:00.001-10:002012-11-01T05:44:04.325-10:00Gourmandising<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>Lately It's been an ensemble of gourmandiser's era. I tend to eat every single stuff around me. Oh No. Pardon. I meant every single eatables.Like say, 11000 cal, a day. Not exactly counting but I do. Seriously,People give that weird look where I eat & drink hideously at the corner of the cafeteria. I just binged it.Do creatures like us show activities of sudden hunger. Prader-Willi Syndrome or Binge Eating disorder it might be. No kidding, it sounds a bunch of ominous activity.It's just getting that gross that friends around me have started prying on my platter of dinner or lunch in disgust look.I know, a perfect blogpost should not be about gloating around, but spare me again. Or talking of my swimmers group or those big stars it's well and good if you over-eat. But entire day staring at the computer screen and you eat trillion dozens of oats biscuits with another dozens of dark chocolates, when do you easily get to get over with.Anyway, sooner or later with the hope that it would go away, I Lochte-rally(read it as literally) need to stop this or may I say when People tell me What I am eating is fattening and gross, my reaction is,</b></span><br />
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<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">'cause I will swim it off in like a day or two.</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>Till then I am off to munching & gobbling.</b></span></div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-69400892428593212182012-10-19T08:46:00.000-10:002012-10-19T08:54:23.863-10:00You Know When...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Back in those days, I just found myself lying on a cold study-room floor eating oreo cookies and full hand of amul powder at 2pm.That sixth sense movie playing in my room because I had had an awful day. The next morning while I met Madhu In office I was sure to tell her, <b><i>"<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;">you know it's a bad day when...</span>"</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>Infatuation.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">She got crushed for a guy who we would refer to by first, middle, and last name. It was like the popular guy in total college era,and those names were always referred to on a first and last name basis. (Like Not just Angelina. Angelina <i>Jolie</i>.) This guy in particular actually had quite the iconic-sounding name, and I'd write it down for all of you, except if he were to ever Google himself, he would most likely find his way to my blog. Anyway, one day she got onto the beloved-aged orkut and found out that First/Middle/Last name of the guy had just entered into a relationship for all the cyber-world to see. She somehow ended up taking a walk in the rain that night, drowning (literally) in her sorrows.Caught up with fever followed by bronchitis and then screwed up one subject in semester. You know that saying, "Eight out of nine times the guy you're getting an ulcer over is not getting an ulcer over you.So Relax!!"This is actually true. I didn't hear from her for two days. When I met her long time after her first words were, <b><i>"You know it's bad when..."</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Yes.One depressed morning you felt like having chicken. You made it to MG Road KFC ,which ain't open for that day till the early time. And then with all desperado mind you travel back to Karkhana road KFC and bought a bucket of chicken.Surprisingly you ate it all.And as the time passes your soundtrack changes from Nick Drake's Cello song(That once was inspiring to lead a morale life) to Alka Yagnik's "Dil Tha yahan abhi abhi"..And then you mumble to yourself , <span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><b><i>"You know it's bad when..."</i></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This whole post is just a ramble, really, because sometimes that's all I want to do when I have free time. I'm glad that since this time we all have been gratefully making some epic strides.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I don't know how you can survive life without laughing at yourself.We all are morons one day and for the time lets just imitate now.Here.Dig a hole in your brain.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Go On. :)</span></div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-21044238303259025302012-10-11T11:52:00.000-10:002012-10-13T05:15:54.409-10:00Yaadein<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Once the Bata shoes started becoming muddy and then saturday came with white Lakhani shoes , and the sun became a little bit more orange than yellow, Saturdays weren't our favorites anymore, but Sunday nights were. Childhood is a favorite of all time in so many ways, but so many of my reasons is simply because of home. Growing up, we had our saturday morning parade, Sunday night Surabhi, Afternoon Mango feast at the backyard,Preparing for school-annual-festival,babysitting near by aunt's daughter during school days and best of all: Sunday late morning lunch like deep-fried rohu fish and boiled egg, and rice, and followed by curd.</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;" /><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;" /><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 21px;">It somehow became a tradition along the lines that the first TV Series we'd always watch together as a family during the season was Malgudi Days. It was always papa's favorite, and naturally, became one of mine too. My eyes always sting when I see the poster of that imaginary village with lots of railway tracks zigzagging till the way your eyes can see.It just did not say so much. But I always felt so much. I still do.I still bought the book last month. Do they have Malgudi anywhere nearby. Did R K Narayan have been to such fortune of being to that place, time or he just tried to get us all stuffed hard!!</span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>..................................................Yaadein..!!</b></span><br />
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-57887124949770034822012-10-01T12:43:00.000-10:002012-10-02T05:01:34.384-10:00All Spiritual @4.00AM<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>So October starts here,with a heavy rain and lots of thoughts.And yes with an added feature like holiday's tomorrow.It's 4 am IST, To my surprise again I and my roomie are still awake and talking about the series of stories we've come across since our 25 years.So after this hours of jobless banter,<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 20.78333282470703px;">I consider myself a very </span><span style="line-height: 20.766666412353516px;">analytic</span><span style="line-height: 20.78333282470703px;"> person. I watch people, I listen closely.I eavesdrop on the couple sitting in the booth behind me when it is obvious they are on a first date, I read people's tattoos(Knowingly My </span><span style="line-height: 20.766666412353516px;">tattoo</span><span style="line-height: 20.78333282470703px;"> does not </span><span style="line-height: 20.766666412353516px;">symbolize</span><span style="line-height: 20.78333282470703px;"> I go for guitars.I still search for connection in life among various fellas tattoos.) and ponder the meaning behind them, I dissect body language, and over-analyze punctuation in text messages. This often gets me in trouble with my own thoughts, but there are the rare and special moments when I witness something so personal and amazing that it makes for an almost cinematic moment that most people wouldn't notice.</span></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20.78333282470703px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Like today for instance, I think I stretched my ligament a little more today in the morning warm-up, so I was slowly hobbling across swimming pool area to get started with my practice. As I walked, I saw this young man in a motorized wheel chair coming toward me on the pool walkway, he looked as though he had muscular dystrophy or some sort of paralysis. I looked down at my phone to change the song, and when I looked back up to smile at him as we crossed paths, I realized that he had disappeared from my view. I kept walking and as I came around a pillar I saw that he had pulled his wheelchair up to the steps that overlooks the swimming pool.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20.78333282470703px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>He was as close to the topmost steps there,as he could get, with his head slung to one side of his wheelchair's headrest, he sat and watched as the tan, fit, athletes dove beautifully into the water, swimming easily with each stride. I wondered if this was a ritual, if he watched the swim team regularly or if he just happened to be passing by. Either way, whatever the case, it was a stark comparison. This boy in the wheelchair, with shriveled muscles, trapped in a body that doesn't work even half as well as it was meant to. I slowed my pace as I watched the boy, he lifted his head from his headrest, and barely able to support his head he looked down into the blue chlorinated water that gave these athletes a hobby, a way of life, a reason to push their bodies to limits. Limits that this boy had possibly never experienced.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20.78333282470703px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Their lungs breathing deep- in and out of the water, strong shoulders pushing the weight of the water away from their bodies(Talking of which, I got to know a fact today, while I was reading Phelps hands propels a more 6 ft+ circle than his height.Which is absolutely one of the miracles. ), propelling them further across the chlorinated surface. Now keep in mind that I don't know this young man, I don't know anything about his condition, how long he has been in a wheelchair, his name, or even what color his eyes are.. but I do know that today he touched me in one of these strangely cinematic ways that I referenced earlier.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20.78333282470703px;">He made me grateful for my body, despite the fact that my foot was throbbing and I was limping across the total area</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20.78333282470703px;">, I have a body, a body that works well and a body that is healthy.I over-read at some place that, </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20.78333282470703px;">when we die, our spirits leave our earthly bodies and will be reunited with a perfect body. Those who struggle in this life with a disability, a mental deficiency, an imperfect body, or whatever else may be their struggle, will have the chance to walk, run, swim, think, LIVE with a new and beautiful body in the most prime and perfect form that a body and a mind can be in.Sounds lame,right.However I have been thinking about that guy lately and I am sure we should be thankful for every little and big achievement and failure of ours.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20.78333282470703px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>It's late like almost morning. And it's raining that heavily outside that she opened to the balcony for 2 minute-ish and it's all mosquitoes around and That defines I am gonna have to pass the rest time like total awake(I almost feel like Les Stroud-ish).Now Is the moment when I miss Pragyan singing the below song at the terrace at midnight looking at the gazillion fireworks on the mountain of the small city Dhenkanal,emphasizing with her phony voice on,</b></span></span></div>
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<pre style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>"Roshhhniiiiiii kaa koi dariyaa to hai, haan kahi pe jaroor"</b></span></pre>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20.766666412353516px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>PS:I did not mean to get all spiritual on you,It's just happened.Now that it happened You can sleep off to a Thanksgiving to Almighty.Amen :)</b></span></span></div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-23941506541569078512012-09-26T10:06:00.001-10:002012-09-26T10:06:46.321-10:00Gustakh Dil<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I like living.<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;">I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.</span></span></div>
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<span class="body" style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 20px;">I have had a couple of hard and busy days during the last days and that explains my occasional blogposts.While I talk of hard days it explains of how my swimming competitor beat me by 15 seconds and Unbelievably my new kurti got a big tear at the sides.And then I made this cauliflower curry which I not-so-dramatically-burnt(Gobi ain't my thing). Ah,Thou Petty Issues,Like Amrita says always.Talking of all I say it is as interesting as meeting Mahatma Gandhi or Diane Sawyer,somebody quoted,<b>It takes just as long to be great as it does to be mediocre.</b>So I might be taking out to be like a mediocre with the hope that when time passes they certainly would turn out Great.Pretty late it is.Soundtrack reads,</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><span style="color: red;">"Hai barf si saanso mein</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">Ankhon mein dhuaan dhuaan (dhuaan dhuaan..)</span></div>
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Ye har pal kyoon khele hai</div>
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Gham ka khusi ka juaa juaa</div>
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Ye umeedon bhara</div>
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Ye khud se hi dara</div>
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Suljhe dhaago mein</div>
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Uljhaa hai kyun</div>
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Salahe salahe yeh khud ki bhi sunta nahi</div>
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Gustakh dil</div>
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Dil mein mushqil</div>
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Mushqil mein dil</div>
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Ho gustakh dil"</div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-1744736331839339142012-09-22T06:04:00.000-10:002012-09-22T06:04:06.621-10:00Ravalgaon's Mango Mood<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Holler ON.Let's just rewind couple of years from Now and get into those DD1 days.Talking of which,all of us can blabber those thousand dollar serials and ads,right.Who forgets those days!Alrighty,I am not gonna make any more nostalgic posts.Just a thought of the time.In fact A <a href="http://youtu.be/BKPGAln4Wzk" target="_blank">RAVALGAON MANGO MOOD</a> Thought.My flatmates Birthday was,days ago.She got this box of varieties of chocolates of ages.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">No matter how much you grow up and show those Un-hinged quel time are past us,with every small hinted entry of stuffs one would love to rewind them.I mean those Sunday Morning & DD1 cartoons and chandrakanta till mid-day!!But out of all I must say Mango mood had made my time then. It's like Jazzy-Lazy-Crazy,For every Mood -Mango Mood From Ravalgaon. :) I used to figure out my day's luck with the piece of wrapper I got for that day In the shop. And then when my sister's got that lazy flavor,It was not a good day for her,as we were high on poking her,totally.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Anyway,The whole point is it's all our mind and what we cook inside.There was this quote somebody qouted,"<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 25px;">Make your mind an interesting place to live for the rest of your life."</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 25px;"><b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">PS: I just had a good time with Barfi and swimming today.Soundtrack of time:</span></b></span></div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-30008959533102008572012-09-11T09:29:00.002-10:002012-09-11T09:29:52.782-10:00Believing In Something Is...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">You waste not-so-reasonable money behind a piece of Hair Clip that only does not hold your hair right,but loosen up every minute you move your head while talking & you still wear it.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">~JAZZ</span></b></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Helvetica; font-size: 11px; text-align: -webkit-left;">"And everybody knows where this is heading </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Helvetica; font-size: 11px; text-align: -webkit-left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Helvetica; font-size: 11px; text-align: -webkit-left;">Forgive me for forgetting </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Helvetica; font-size: 11px; text-align: -webkit-left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Helvetica; font-size: 11px; text-align: -webkit-left;">Our hearts irrevocably combined </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Helvetica; font-size: 11px; text-align: -webkit-left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Helvetica; font-size: 11px; text-align: -webkit-left;">Star-crossed souls slow dancing </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Helvetica; font-size: 11px; text-align: -webkit-left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Helvetica; font-size: 11px; text-align: -webkit-left;">Retreating and advancing </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Helvetica; font-size: 11px; text-align: -webkit-left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Helvetica; font-size: 11px; text-align: -webkit-left;">Across the sky until the end of time"</span></i></div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-54581471639510649252012-09-07T09:28:00.001-10:002012-09-28T05:27:30.196-10:00Tiny Little Secrets<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">While I am not really in a mood of sounding profound and striking my knowledge-streaks at almost mid-night, I just figured out that I can not just keep awake all night doing nothing.So here comes the post.Yet another cheesy post and you know why.Follow-ups to the book I am now with.I am gonna let out couple of my creepy secrets just to feel that after-this-post-I-may-see-my-mirror-effect-and-drop-the-very-grotty-idea.Anyway.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">1.In the afternoon when I reach out to my workstation I always drink the water from the bottle which I left last night.And every time I lie to Amrita that I filled this afternoon.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">2.I may ask people's name every now and then even after iterative introduction.I mean I-give-that-what's-there-in-a-name kind of look but then deep inside I think am I that guy with Korsakoff's syndrome from 51st Dates?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">3.I side-cut that sweet polka dotted black skirt of my sister with the hedge cutter just cause she accidentally discolored my red-top that I was so in love & wore that to almost all morning English classes in a row.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">4.I redeem with my talks in-front of messy friend group that Shawshank Redemption is one of my favorite number where as I just have not watched it end-to-end ever. I just fast-forward it every time.Replace that with <b>You've got mail</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">And wait.Last one is a hit.Watch out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">He: So what's the weekend plan?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I: Oh, Some good sleep and then may be skating or swimming.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">He: Oh nice to know that you do skate. So what,Roller? (*Snorts*)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I: Surely Nope. I do Inline.It's pacing up buddy.Ain't no Kid with rollers ON.You gotta be kidding me.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Damn. I am an In-line novice FYI.I always do much of air sorta banter to people who snorts at me.</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Anyway,Let's snap off here and complete the book. Chapter 7.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">G'night.</span></div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-28218837516520053282012-09-01T23:55:00.001-10:002012-09-01T23:55:08.328-10:00Ladies Night<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Pacing Up.Days are busy. No,not that busy but depicting busy day wouldn't hurt much.Catching up 1000 things at the same time would hurt rather.My new book got started.Let me tell you what I am up to.How many cheesy stuffs I am wrapped up with.Holes in Brain,Literally.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white;"><b>I got started with Shopaholic Abroad by Sophie Kinsella. Why don't they come up with Rebecca Bloomwood shits afters Confessions ... Cause People like me dig that shit.And then bummer.The five year engagement plan,Made Of Honor,When In Rome.I ain't kidding.Well Slumdog and so very oliver twist sagas may go to ad nauseum era for the time.Fundamentals and values,Oh they come and go. At times crocky movies happen to light up. And Yes,Over-swam.So after all this head full of chicky-flick and book,I am not gonna say I am always right. But kinda happen to be like I AM. </b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Exhibit A.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Last night, after doing this dishes (that’s right… I do the dishes. I’m the lady who handles office piece of job,calls,swims a lot,gorgeous roti maker, AND good with my hands!), my best-y-roomie sauntered over, and the following conversation took place.AFAIQ,<i>She is the suze in confessions of a shopaholic who bear a inquisitive mind and demanding(That's cause I at times surrender myself for her sisterly care and delivering my bed-tea in the morning.)</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>She: Why aren’t all of the glasses in the drainboard?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>She: You put some of the glasses on the slab, and not in the drain board to let them dry.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Me: What difference does it make?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>She: It makes a difference to ME.Coughs.To all of us.We prefer them to all be in the drain board.[Mark the We tone,she does that to mean the partner in crime.Mother of Slyness,Huh.]</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Me: Have you taken a look at all the glasses and plates that I DO have in the drain board?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>She: Yeah, so?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Me: Yeah, so? There is NO room for the extra glasses, so I’m letting them dry on the slab.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>She: What do you mean, there’s no room. Of course there’s room!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Me: No there’s not. Where do you see any room to put these glasses?[Recently we've started being extremely rich in cutlery set for the flat's been full of aunty,Uncle and so and so atithi.We girls are so full of kitchen stuffs.]</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>She: Just rest them on top of the other glasses.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Me: You can’t do that… they’ll fall and break.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>She: No, they won’t. Believe me… I've been doing the dishes too, and I stack the glasses every damn time, and the glasses are just fine.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Me: I don’t know what you do every time, but this damn time, there is too much crowd in the drain board, and if I try to rest those extra glasses on top, they are going to break.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>She: They would break, if you did it.Remember Hot milk-pot case.(I did that once and the case is still open to my surprise, now I know.) But I do this all the time…. Just move over and let me do it. I don’t want glasses lying on the dirty slab.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Me: That is a very stupid plan.Besides the slab ain't dirty.Maasi's just washed it off now.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>She:Would you just pause for a little.Really You talk too much. Here, let me show you…..</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>And with that, She bumped me to the side, and began to stack the offending glasses on top of the others.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>It really did look like an expert job. I could tell that she in fact DOES do this all the time by the expert way that she stacked glass after glass……</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>…. The near perfect form she used as each item got perfectly perched upon another…….</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>In fact, it was SO perfect, that it took a WHOLE TEN SECONDS for one of the glasses to begin to slide off the one it was sitting on, tip over, and do a series of end-over-end somersaults down the pile of dishes, off the counter, where it admittedly made a near PERFECT explosion of glass shards as it came crashing down onto our kitchen floor.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>We both stood there for a few seconds, neither one of us saying a word. Inside, I was feeling quite happy with myself.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>I was about to either offer up an encouraging word of support, or throw out one of my really ratty sarcastic comment about what a good job she did, when she looked up at me and said…..</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>“I don't believe you.How did you stack em all before. You're just Gross with everything in kitchen.”</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Soundtrack of the time: Ladies night.</b></span></div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-65673526728670316052012-08-28T08:49:00.004-10:002012-08-28T08:49:55.700-10:00Mustang Sally<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>You Guys. I am damned.Dejected.<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20.78333282470703px;">Ever feel like a walking train wreck? I am now. Yep. Rants ON. And you sure want to know why! Cause my mom scolded me.I am one of those skanks who never listens to parents. Today she had this day-dream that I am gonna fall ill and she called me to keep on warning not to keep my Bus window open as it's been raining almost all day. We're having a bad-weather-day here.And of course I would not bear the very idea of sitting on my ass being claustrophobic there. I ignored her and here I am blogging up with wet-eyes and sore throat and doomed feel.What hurts the most is,I am gonna have to cancel my morning swimming plan tomorrow and switch off the fan tonight.Yikes.Talking of swimming,let me tell you, I ain't anymore that girl in a small-town who was craving for barbie-doll figure.I do swimming ,cause I love the rhythm that flows from toe to head.It's the way the hands move after each other in a sync and the legs flap,and the way you can see the ground below 9 feet lucid water.Everything.That could be so captivating that I can spend my whole life swimming.People run after barbie doll size.I mean seriously.</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20.78333282470703px;">Barbies are dolls. They are to be played with. Nobody has ever figured out what a </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" style="background-color: white; line-height: 20.78333282470703px;">Bratz</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20.78333282470703px;"> doll would look like in life size with the same proportions ...or maybe they have... my guess is that it would have a rather difficult time supporting its ginormous head.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><span style="line-height: 20.78333282470703px;">I recently read an article somewhere tearing apart Mattel for selling barbies. The article took the stance that Barbies are responsible for setting unrealistic expectations on our bodies growing up. I don't know about you ladies - but Barbie? </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" style="line-height: 20.78333282470703px;">Nooo</span><span style="line-height: 20.78333282470703px;">. They let their best to curl the strangles of hair to barbie sorta.</span><span style="line-height: 20.78333282470703px;"> I also noticed that they are very aerodynamic when launched at my cousin's feet first over a decade. Why would they stop now?</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><span style="line-height: 20.78333282470703px;">Stop blaming a plastic toy. I get that Hollywood places unrealistic expectations that women sometimes feel pressure to emulate. But as long as the world is turning - they will have plastic dolls with long legs, </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" style="line-height: 20.78333282470703px;">teeeensy</span><span style="line-height: 20.78333282470703px;"> waists AND they will have some kind of pageant awarding women for something that they had very little to do with - genetics and hair spray. Don't get me wrong; some of these ladies are very committed to healthy living and to working out - and god knows I get how hard that can be since I work my ass off - some have even demonstrated some impressive levels of academia... but mostly people - they are there because they have mastered the most important skills of all; teasing their hair, putting just the right amount of Vaseline on their teeth and knowing which heels will really set that jeans off.... I still watch the shite. I still </span><strike style="line-height: 20.78333282470703px;">play with</strike><span style="line-height: 20.78333282470703px;"> buy Barbies (for my uncle's daughter...) Can't help it. We're just a bunch of critical enablers.</span><span style="line-height: 20.78333282470703px;">My point is - I think blaming Mattel for poor body image makes about as much sense as blaming a toy company because you couldn't find a real pink pony with wings. Unless someone actually has... in that case - I want one too...</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>I may find our twin barbies with one eye gone somewhere under the bed this time during the next break to home.And then I may think of my old days while I & my Sista wasting entire evening making a polka dotted matching hand-gloves, and on the very holler of Maa both of us would hide it at certain corner of study-room that we could never find it back.To our surprise again after ages of exams and years you find it under the sofa-set and there is a spider living inside it and then you are traumatized and then you have to check those hand-gloves too haven't become an arachnid haven..Oh I miss every little corner of my home and those piles of old books on shelves and father's umpteen bills and receipts under the teapoy sheet and most importantly I am totally a goner with my words and my sore-throat. I am that sick. Gotta scoot. May be 3-4 Namcold along with Crocin would kill my cold.<span style="line-height: 20.75px;">I can not even read what I am writing. To hell with coldness & may be fever by this time now.Go away. G'nyt.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 20.75px;"><b>PS: Inspiration for the post: Mustang Sally.Wilson Pickett just picked up my mood in doomsday like this.But hey.I am not Sally and don't either own a Mustang.So don't you judge me.</b></span></span></div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-79794350809303846072012-08-22T09:20:00.000-10:002012-08-22T09:20:13.554-10:00Jazz Time<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Aloha.Time 12.37am.I am tired to the bones.I got a bed nicely-made right in front of me to crash on.But what am I doing is, analyzing accents.We had this funny call set up this night with bunches of onsite guys.Couple of them were British and imagine my happiness. I'm like head over heels for their accent.We know it's just no case of Medulla Oblongata,but still.And when we talk British, their slang have the particular taste.Oh ,Mate,I can not just scribble the total part now.Super-drowsy,I am.Stick around,I will come up with a big post soon.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And you really don't wanna miss the below jazz.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Let's just call the whole thing off.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Quel Night :)</span></b></div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-19128055786679277862012-08-19T07:16:00.000-10:002012-08-21T08:01:47.999-10:00The Old Man & The Sea<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rKVh2jkfzrU/UDPLhYVLVVI/AAAAAAAAA3U/c7XRC1td7EE/s1600/The+Old+Man+and+the+Sea+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><img border="0" height="299" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rKVh2jkfzrU/UDPLhYVLVVI/AAAAAAAAA3U/c7XRC1td7EE/s400/The+Old+Man+and+the+Sea+3.jpg" width="400" /></b></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="background-color: white;"><i style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></i></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><i style="line-height: 18px;">"The clouds were building up now for the trade wind and he looked ahead and saw a flight of wild ducks etching themselves against the sky over the water, then blurring, then etching again and he knew no man was ever alone on the sea."</i></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i style="line-height: 18px;">-</i><i style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">The Old Man and The Sea by Ernest Hemingway</span></i></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">You know what today is! Well not Diwali. But why does he pop up in my mind. It's been October 1992 Diwali,my Grandpa left me.I was still talking to him while travelling.He was there motionless and almost gone to another world in the car.I thought he would wake up and yell at me for distorting his well-managed coiffure.And of course unlimited story of fishing at the bay side and bringing aayi's hand made milk-pedas.</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">One particular saturday,I had my school off.We,at the river-side screaming,fishing,counting the number of fishes we caught.</span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">Me: Why do you call me Andakhai, aaja?</span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">Him: Cause you always have one of those in breakfast. Be it chicken's or be it fish's,Don't you?</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">Me: But why do call Di Mendhakhai(Sheep-eater) then? She does not eat any of those?</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">Him: Well,it rhymes with you.Though she's a resemblance with mutton-eater.So I derived.</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">[I,busy in thinking how valid the point is.]</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">Him: Now you can be a crab-eater. We got many of those this turn.</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">Me: Aayi's gonna make my day.[Running away back home..]</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">20 Years since then and I still feel like missing country-side-</span><span style="line-height: 18px;">fishing</span><span style="line-height: 18px;"> with Aaja.</span></b></span><br />
<b style="line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Memories. They don't die.</span></b></div>
Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-87396273626441566472012-08-18T22:17:00.000-10:002012-08-18T22:20:41.212-10:00Dunkaccino Over Sir Downey Jr.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 22.866666793823242px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Al, Al, Al.........</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 22.866666793823242px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Maybe I accidentally hit my head recently and maybe as we speak I am living in a hallucinogenic alternate dimension within my own subconscious, but wasn't there a time when Al Pacino was one of the greatest actors of.. well my uncle's time ?</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><span style="line-height: 22.866666793823242px;">I mean, the dude was a respected actor, wasn't he? Scarface, Dog Day Afternoon, Scent of a Woman. I even seem to remember him being in a little independent film called THE </span><span style="line-height: 22.866666793823242px;">super-tramp </span><span style="line-height: 22.866666793823242px;">GODFATHER!!!! (although I do believe that in the U.S. release, they dropped the 'super-tramp' from the title.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small; line-height: 22.866666793823242px;">You know what I did last day.The moment of sheer happiness out of </span><span style="font-size: x-small; line-height: 22.866666793823242px;">Robert downey Jr's Sherlock-II caught me into a resemblance when he shouted "<i>Fashionably you have me as an ally</i>"...There. Pause Now.Did he just look like Pacino.I believe more of Siamese twins. Two genius of the time and now looked alike.And I had to see Pacino when I remembered him then.Here's what my minimal slyness in finding the most-matching picture of both.</span></b></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C-ZTBoLNoRA/UDCeK6db9GI/AAAAAAAAA3A/bZyMmLdVOzo/s1600/Desktop6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><img border="0" height="295" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C-ZTBoLNoRA/UDCeK6db9GI/AAAAAAAAA3A/bZyMmLdVOzo/s400/Desktop6.jpg" width="400" /></b></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>(Really!! How do it come off!!)</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><span style="line-height: 22.866666793823242px;"> IMDB-ed and to my surprise every damn ones been revised 10+ times.There I made a decision like</span><span style="line-height: 22.866666793823242px;"> Jack & Jill</span><span style="line-height: 22.866666793823242px;">.Oh,Go ahead and laugh at me,If you don't want to do for Adam's talent of Razzie there.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><span style="line-height: 22.866666793823242px;">You remember that piece of shit film, don't you? It's the movie where Adam Sandler puts on a dress and plays the part of his twin-ster (My Bad...TWIN SISTER!)</span><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="line-height: 22.866666793823242px;">Yes, you read that correctly. His SISTER! Do you get it? Adam Sandler is a GUY! And he's dressing up like a GIRL! Holy shit that is some funny stuff! Why hasn't Hollywood ever thought of that idea before???</span></span><span style="line-height: 22.866666793823242px; text-align: left;">I knew it was going to be awful.The idea of switching from Robert Downey Jr to some clank version of the Razzie awarded one where Pacino appeared,Right!!But the thing is, it's NOT awful.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 22.866666793823242px;"><b>It's...... It's......</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="line-height: 22.866666793823242px;">Honestly, I don't have a word for it. Calling it 'awful' would be an insult for all the fine things in this world that worked hard and busted their ass to attain the title of 'awful'.</span><span style="line-height: 22.866666793823242px;">This movie left me speechless.</span><span style="line-height: 22.866666793823242px;">And it's not so much because of Adam Sandler. Mr. Sandler has LONG ago proven to me beyond a shadow of a doubt that he can't make a funny movie. So, I wasn't surprised there.Let me make a statement here.Those people who call they can make people laugh aren't exactly the ones who do.It's the grumpy ones always work out properly.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 22.866666793823242px;"><b>No, what threw me for a loop was the fact that he got AL PACINO to star in this movie with him!</b></span></div>
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I still can't wrap my head around it, but let me summarize the movie in a nutshell for you:</div>
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Adam Sandler has a twin sister who is a pain in the butt Adam, meanwhile, owns an advertising company who is going to lose his business if he can't get Al Pacino to star in his new Dunkin' Donuts commerical, advertising their new coffee, the "Don-Cachino".</div>
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I'll fast forward about 84 minutes, and just ruin the whole movie for you by showing you the final 2 minutes.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 22.866666793823242px;"><b>You ready? Ok, here we go......</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="line-height: 22.866666793823242px;">Here we end with Happy-</span><span style="line-height: 22.866666793823242px;">Don-Cachino-Sunday-Post.In case you've had the slightest misfortune to try it.</span></b></span></div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1639841675034516838.post-52310645519636683272012-08-15T00:47:00.003-10:002012-08-15T00:51:33.043-10:00For You,A Thousand Times Over :)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">(Amir reading out </span></span><span style="text-align: left;"> "</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18.200000762939453px; text-align: left;">Rostam and Sohrab" story to Hassan.</span><span style="text-align: left;"> )</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><em style="background-color: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 16px;">Better late than never</em><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 16px;">, </span><em style="background-color: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 16px;">but never late</em><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 16px;"> is </span><span style="background-color: white;"><i style="font-style: normal; line-height: 16px;">better. That's how I console myself after watching The Kite Runner.A 2007 academy award winner and </i><span style="line-height: 16px;">marvelous</span><i style="font-style: normal; line-height: 16px;"> it is.Two childhood bonds and extremely intense.Talking about potentiality, I barely stand them.This time it was that upsetting like they reviewed. But it gets shadowed by the pretty old depiction of friendship they had and how it turned out to be brothers.</i></span><i style="font-style: normal; line-height: 16px;">Apart from the dummy review, enjoy the below clip.</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">"Did I ever tell you your father was the best kite runner in Kabul? He made all the neighborhood kids jealous. </span><span style="line-height: 16px;">He'd run the kites </span><span style="line-height: 16px;">and never look up at the sky. </span><span style="line-height: 16px;">Some claimed </span><span style="line-height: 16px;">he was just chasing the kite's shadow. </span><span style="line-height: 16px;">But they didn't know him like I did. </span><span style="line-height: 16px;">Your father wasn't just chasing shadows. </span><span style="line-height: 16px;">He just knew. </span><span style="line-height: 16px;">That's all."</span></span></div>
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Swagatikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05244823593965272139noreply@blogger.com0