tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90847019224152877132024-02-01T20:06:18.163-08:00Panchéé ChirpsA space for something that I treasure more than any mortals or immortals.
A space for my mind and heart to entangle into one another, and Create an entity, indestructible, invincible....Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-91679869796754580542016-03-24T10:24:00.002-07:002016-05-09T17:07:04.479-07:0017.03.2016 Kashmir<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Mesmerizing muse for the hopeless romantics - Kashmir!</td></tr>
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My first visit to Kashmir, and
always an honest opinion about the place follows below.</div>
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Unfortunately, I picked a rather
wrong time to travel to Kashmir, and my views may be biased due to the
unexpected cold welcome I received. I do not by this mean that the people are cold,
the temperature was 4 degrees when I arrived on 17<sup>th</sup> March 2016 at
8.30AM and to top it, it was pouring and while I was getting off the aircraft,
I felt a wee bit dizzy; for those of you who do not know, I detest cold weather,
I am a chirpy little bird in the spring and summer but I am quite an annoying
complain freak in the winters! I really abhor chilly winds and times when I
want to cover my body like an Eskimo and shut off– No offense!</div>
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Well, the driver was there to
pick me up on time and he turned on the heater in the car after I was
comfortably seated and I felt fine.</div>
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Now, the honest opinion, Kashmir
is filled with beautiful, men, women & children. Perhaps the area renders a
lovely glowing skin to each of them and they all undoubtedly look lovely! But
unfortunately the place isn’t as well kept in terms of beauty. There is an old
world charm about Srinagar, but the garbage thrown in callous disarray is
distasteful, not to mention quite a bit of the road is not put to complete use
and broken vehicles lie there, almost orphaned! <br />
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Now coming to the good side of
things (I always save the good for the end!); the Dal lake looks absolutely
ravishing! Even though there are a ton of houseboats on the ghats, the lake
with its glass like water surface, almost looks holy and heavenly! The small Shikara boats moving about, a few carrying happy tourists or romance stricken
couples on their first or tenth honeymoon, a flower man, or simply locals going about thir chores, well the sight is gorgeous! The lake
is truly one of the wonders of Srinagar. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgQ9AVtLQ8M2l4iE1ybeE-hg-4m8UzeoAkzV58MONcMFw1Ggr6x6HiQTjkYVBv2Qo6kUL9tunVgbMJrqe34x-NlUOZc-5wcPnLUPLJLOEADJvBq2aMT_zoAWF0sBvT0LpMoAJ9Wd4XOJo/s1600/Edited+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgQ9AVtLQ8M2l4iE1ybeE-hg-4m8UzeoAkzV58MONcMFw1Ggr6x6HiQTjkYVBv2Qo6kUL9tunVgbMJrqe34x-NlUOZc-5wcPnLUPLJLOEADJvBq2aMT_zoAWF0sBvT0LpMoAJ9Wd4XOJo/s640/Edited+3.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Shy Rasheed, the Boat Driver</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">We arrived at Ghat No. 19 and the
speed boat was there waiting to pick me up and take me to Sukoon Houseboat, the
place where I was to stay. The 5 minute boat ride was chilling, as it was still
raining and of course was very cold, but when we reached Sukoon, the warm
welcome I received made me forget the cold and I felt at home. Tastefully
created with walnut wood, the ceiling and walls carved out by different sets of
local Kashmiri Artists was quite a sight for the artist in me. It was warm and
cozy inside and I was offered the traditional Kashmiri Kahwa tea made of
Saffron and almonds and I was ushered into my Suite at the end. The Suite was large and
comfortable with a couch and sofas to relax, a large amazing double bed with 8
inch mattresses, luxurious duvet and two windows offering a beautiful view of
the surroundings. The bathroom was large with a shower cubicle and a bathtub, a
large mirror and extremely tidy & fresh linen. I just dropped on to my bed
and fell asleep like a baby. There are no TVs in Sukoon Houseboat and it is an
epitome of quiet and peace as the name says! The food is good and the service
is genuine.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: justify;">Sukoon - Peace, Wisdom & Contentment</span></td></tr>
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While Sukoon itself is quite a
destination, during my stay I visited several places of which I highly
recommend visiting a few rather unique places.</div>
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Aru Valley, just a mere 13 kms ahead of
Pehalgam, is a darling of a place where I found fresh snow, but the weather was
pleasanter than Srinagar and I had a jolly time looking at the local children
playing and the men and women basking the sun. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fresh Snow at Aru Valley, a camping site in the summer</td></tr>
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Another experience that I would
recommend is the Old City Walk at the Old Town. I shall leave some things for surprises.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxnIv4fVlsq8afVc1x_y4dcJ45JgaPe_nwX71Rt8ExygftSZfVSjQaSft3cFQ0ot7ky-rtH6Dhye4ywoQCjG8UcbxWdEhujKXqD_r5KcGsUqvY58T5BYaxjVzs7NnPm-C546knnG70aFQ/s1600/edited+35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxnIv4fVlsq8afVc1x_y4dcJ45JgaPe_nwX71Rt8ExygftSZfVSjQaSft3cFQ0ot7ky-rtH6Dhye4ywoQCjG8UcbxWdEhujKXqD_r5KcGsUqvY58T5BYaxjVzs7NnPm-C546knnG70aFQ/s640/edited+35.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vintage love!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsvnATXc7E566D798xAp81spkZLQn0xf2PIYUvAohLVLlFRbCBGA6ACjrRjARMiSr9VpizB8TUzhp1R1IespzuFBkocERJj35gelkp0YWxjF10LMwzPZ7y1y8zdGDR3FU01iaJoToSUrU/s1600/edited+31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsvnATXc7E566D798xAp81spkZLQn0xf2PIYUvAohLVLlFRbCBGA6ACjrRjARMiSr9VpizB8TUzhp1R1IespzuFBkocERJj35gelkp0YWxjF10LMwzPZ7y1y8zdGDR3FU01iaJoToSUrU/s640/edited+31.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Old World Charm</td></tr>
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I also recommend the Shankarachariya
Temple for the glorious views it offers and a Water Safari on the Dal Lake,
crossing over to the Manasbal Lake through the river Jhelum and camping over
night on the gorgeous banks of the Manasbal lake with live barbecue under the
stars!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ia-baAP4O4RfipS9sXNH7GxhesaTwNdMF7lwEdbhxb3qyFMgBzQLdwLvY3vvLzoAVuYGMNS7vozl_QKNrhsqQ-qyzQ-qYokzG2j0BF0TsPAhjAFSdM-Y0YfWse2Sy1c_ZvshG1961LM/s1600/Edited+18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ia-baAP4O4RfipS9sXNH7GxhesaTwNdMF7lwEdbhxb3qyFMgBzQLdwLvY3vvLzoAVuYGMNS7vozl_QKNrhsqQ-qyzQ-qYokzG2j0BF0TsPAhjAFSdM-Y0YfWse2Sy1c_ZvshG1961LM/s640/Edited+18.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from up above!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNJkcRxTdHnSP2DbwKT_LOlxIXAnSAGCRnbH7-V4PiQxSEGsP62ywgbZmStsQf-QOlJjgD6hkJjZ-YlXebrHILR84Yz41CMsNAcSa7Pxk6N5FXGTWtU6zz1hnKtm_BeqP1lgBC8CFirjI/s1600/edited+37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNJkcRxTdHnSP2DbwKT_LOlxIXAnSAGCRnbH7-V4PiQxSEGsP62ywgbZmStsQf-QOlJjgD6hkJjZ-YlXebrHILR84Yz41CMsNAcSa7Pxk6N5FXGTWtU6zz1hnKtm_BeqP1lgBC8CFirjI/s640/edited+37.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Amsterdam of India!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVjph9_txwoC8I8WuY6a4VU_ZZvXpbJsvVqyLy5oN2DfmWUZIlM0AJtj6vSZ7wNKZcPHcBFah2o2v70zQjhzmjAiXrCfTAl2rey-QEzQ6FGB8WZJv4X8QvTjh2P5LW0w7l1erCsBJHO8w/s1600/edited+42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVjph9_txwoC8I8WuY6a4VU_ZZvXpbJsvVqyLy5oN2DfmWUZIlM0AJtj6vSZ7wNKZcPHcBFah2o2v70zQjhzmjAiXrCfTAl2rey-QEzQ6FGB8WZJv4X8QvTjh2P5LW0w7l1erCsBJHO8w/s640/edited+42.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Floating Vegetable Markets - Dal Lake @ 6.05AM</td></tr>
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Finally an early morning visit to the floating vegetable market and partaking in the naptol that happens there shouldn't be missed for the world!<br />
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I am told that the best time
Kashmir in its full bloom is from May to September, so plan your trip wisely
unlike me!</div>
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Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-69294253473459401002015-03-23T23:44:00.000-07:002015-03-23T23:44:41.601-07:00Changing the Verbose<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It has been a while since I
blogged and a dear friend of mine pointed out that I am very ‘verbose’ and tend
to write very long blog posts. Of course at that point, I defended myself
rather aggressively, arguing that that is the style of my writing and so be it;
if people do not like reading it I quite don’t give a fig.</div>
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But no sooner did I delve deeper
into what had been critiqued about my rather flowery long writing, than did I
realize that this was the reason I don’t write that often, out of pure inertia,
because I had taken for granted that I have a particular style of writing and
that I shall obstinately stick to it followed by bouts of laziness to actually
write a blog post.</div>
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My critic also pointed out that
the name of my blog is quite contradictory to the posts in it; Panchee Chirps
are perhaps short little chirps and not long ‘verbose’ rants. Nonetheless, I am
a human-bird, I chirp, but am human and to err is to human and you my dear
readers are absolutely divine to forgive my obvious shortcoming. However having
said that, I shall endeavour to write shorter pieces, after all, embracing
change graciously while keeping ones originality intact is freedom.</div>
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This I’d say is a good start! Would you say that too?</div>
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Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-16590918118924592672014-09-02T10:34:00.000-07:002014-09-02T10:46:47.725-07:00She's Corrosive! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Warning Dark poetry..</div>
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Yeah, if you want to judge me for writing dark words, I don't give a fig.</div>
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White or Dark, they are words, they are a reflection of my rather arduous life.</div>
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Most of you may have had an easy life, but I have depth, and let me tell you, I can always count on darkness, because 'He' never lets me down, always guides me to light.</div>
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So those of you, who care to judge me as 'mentally ill', back off, for 'He' and I don't care to listen to your shallow words or your shallow life story.</div>
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<br /></div>
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And for those of you who are interested in reading further and like my writing...</div>
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This is also being worked on with a tune and rhythm for a gothic number, which I will embed here once we are through recording. There you go:</div>
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..........................................................................................................................................................</div>
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She doesn't leave my side,</div>
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And now am so used to being spied!</div>
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Due courtesy am silent, at other times am violent</div>
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Is it the blood slipping down my 'Coloured' Wrist?</div>
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Or is it the Mesmerizing Pills that cause the Twist?</div>
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Oh She's Corrosive and I've begun to rust!</div>
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She's taking over me with her immortal lust</div>
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She wants to be one with my soul</div>
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and influences me to take on that role!</div>
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<br /></div>
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And alas! I am holding on to this fickle life</div>
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As do those thoughts when I see that knife...</div>
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<br /></div>
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Oh She's Corrosive and I am rusted</div>
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Can't find my soul, a while since its been dusted!</div>
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.............................................................................................................................................................</div>
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And if you are in the dark about what I mean by this piece of poetry, let me guide you to light.</div>
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I hallucinate, almost always. I hear voices of a middle aged woman, asking me to become one with her, basically, she wants me off this world, and the reasons she quotes are that she is outside this life/world and is in need of a soul friend, and she and I can truly befriend each other only if I quit this life. She tells me she is desperate and needs a partner. My constant question to her is, 'Why me?', for which I do not get a reply. She's unreasonable I guess, as are most women (pardon me my feminist friends)!</div>
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<br /></div>
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I have struggled with this over the many many long and painful years but I am stable now. I have been under several anti-psychotic drugs to 'treat' this rather frightening disease, but none of it has really helped (hold on, I don't need your pity, I am quite alright. If you meet ignorant of my world and history, you will see me displaying no signs of any insanity and will quite like my person). </div>
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What has helped is an imagination of the true blissful feeling my mum and dad would have had when I was born and that keeps me going. I endure all this for them, for those happy faces, for all those amazing moments I have had with my family, with both my siblings.</div>
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Don't intend to make it more melodramatic, my only point is, no matter how painful it may be to live, one can always find an inspiration to go on, if one is willing and a wee bit selfless. </div>
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Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-14745335831569456432014-08-31T20:29:00.001-07:002014-08-31T20:42:58.479-07:00The Storm<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr">
Recently I created my own storm, <br />
And these heavy clouds darkened my world around. storm as ruthless stripped me off my sanity, <br />
And my world from then has been devoid of all serenity. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Yes I been seeking out for shelter<br />
How many times I knocked on his door<br />
But it seemed to me that I was <br />
knocking on heaven's door. <br />
Yes! I was knockin' on heavens door! </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
But a lightening of a revelation struck me, <br />
Bought an umbrella for am rich in vanity<br />
Now am standing under it, I feel no rain<br />
The storms may have gone, but I feel no pain</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Convinced that I am, need no shelter<br />
I shall seek to knock on the real heavens door <br />
With apathy am knockin' on heavens door</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I came alone to this gloriously deceitful land<br />
The more I held on the more it slipped away, the sand<br />
Folks are sand, admire, love but never hold tight<br />
Nay, you disagree? they are out of your sight </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Not astray but in my own shelter, a smile on my lips as I knock on heaven's door<br />
I hear the Man behind, while am knockin' on heaven's door! <br />
...................................................................... </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
PS: this is going to be shortly made into a song... Perhaps progressive rock. Stay tuned</div>
</div>
Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-91289980906289730432013-06-04T00:01:00.002-07:002013-06-04T02:05:54.414-07:00My Suicide Story<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
<img src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/0c2a7a580b31644eccebcc86a3096bd5/tumblr_mg4f9oBOII1rma79ro1_500.jpg" /></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB">This is not ‘Gyan’.
But this is my Suicide story. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I write this
with a very heavy heart. Not that I knew Jiah Khan personally. Not that I
thought she was a fabulous actor, she was decent but very beautiful, she'd do very well indeed if she had willed. But she was woman, like me.
She was a person like us all. She was struggling with life and she gave up, she
quit.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Her suicide
story took me down memory lane. Not a pleasant one of course. The darkness is
mostly never pleasant. I certainly find it addictive and I have witnessed its
malignant face too. I have been there almost looking death in the eye, and
trust me ‘<i>he</i>’ looks hideous! I was
not sure if I was running towards <i>him</i>
or away from <i>him</i>. It was too painful
to live. It was too painful to breathe. It was too painful to struggle. And I
did attempt it, several times. Sleeping pills (tonne of them), anti-psychotics
overdose, all that I could find and buy, blades slitting through the veins of
my wrist, asphyxiation with my inhaler, I have tried it. But what surprises me now
is that I always called out for help at the end of it all. If I had not, I
would not be alive to write this very post. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">It is not that
my suicide story is a foolish one. I was terribly depressed as is evident! I
would ‘see’ people who did not exist. I would hear voices of a lady, never
obliging silence. I would quite simply hallucinate. I was heavily drugged with
anti-depressants and anti-psychotics. I had dropped out of college. I attempted
going back a couple of times, in vain. I failed all the time I attempted to
even read a line from a book. I lost everything I had ever dreamed of doing. I
would look at the ceiling the entire day or just sleep because the pills made
me. I had no hope of recovery. The doctors had even suggested ‘institutionalization’.
It lasted for over 4 years. 4 years of my adult life, from 18 – 23 years of age,
when any girl is expected to touch the brink of beauty and social life with beaux & flirtations, I was at
home almost weighing 85kgs with no hope of recovery, completely cut off from
the outside world.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">One day I got
tired of it all. I just got out of home and got a job as a ‘hostess’ in a
restaurant close to my house. I realised one thing that day. No ‘job’ is small.
Every job has a value to add to one’s life. When I was studying Physics back in
Bangalore, albeit doing terrific at it, I hadn’t imagined that, say, 4 years
from thence I would greet guests at a restaurant and pick up empty plates and
glasses. I hadn’t ever imagined working in the Hotel industry in 2007. But
today I am here. I work for a Hotel Brand. I am happy. I have fallen in love with it.
And the work I do adds immense value to my existence. As is evident from my
post ‘Another Cinderella Story’, it does certainly feel like fairy land. Here
comes the ‘Gyan’, I did not (and still do not) weigh a job or a situation in
life. I did not judge it. Judging a
situation makes us weak. It makes us pity ourselves and this pity is the ‘adder’
that spills venom into our existence. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Whatever you may be, be it a Mechanic, a Cobbler, a Steward, a Caller, a Sales Person, an Executive,
a CEO, a Managing Director, a House Wife, a Cook, a Maid, a Dog Walker, all you
need is to be passionate about what you are doing, to love your work, to give
it your 100 percent. It is not impossible. I do it. There are days I do not give
my 100 percent. I forgive myself for it. But I never stop loving what I do. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I have come a
long way from wanting to do theoretical physics to marketing hotels. But I do
not judge myself. I do not judge the path my life has taken. I only am proud
that I am happy; that I have made a commitment to happiness. All suicide stories
need not end at suicide. Mine began with it!</span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16169193937348345810noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-60880572544119012582013-05-08T02:14:00.000-07:002014-07-04T22:02:26.358-07:00The Key<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">There he is, quite a far from where I breathe</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Those blithesome days, locked in the chambers of memory</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">They are chained, almost obscenely painful, for they won’t go</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Urging them to leave, to unlock and be set free</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Yet they won’t go</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">In <i>them</i> lives a young
maiden; </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Fearless & Shrewd</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Hypocrisy runs in her blood. Too Cowardly for admittance. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Too drowned in her own image</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Dissembling her heart, masking her passion, too conceited to stare
at</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Truth’s face</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">A few months of union failed to uncover his letter.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Though it read in stark words, ‘not a love letter’, </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">The foolish maiden, bought those words, for she was rich in vanity</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">The brunt of fait was borne by both</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">She took to black and he took to silence.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">They say silence compliments black;</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Fair job that it did and blew them apart</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">There was more silence, an awkward silence, a painful silence</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">And then came the master of all, the apathetic silence.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Apathy was the dagger straight into the maiden’s bosom</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Murdered, silently. Pray, may this a secret stay!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">The maiden long gone, was then born a Madam</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Who stares in the eyes of truth, walks before any man unscathed</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">He smiles at the madam again, but tainted smiles don’t last</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">She smiles at him, bluntly, albeit will always</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">And thus it continues, the saga</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">He disappears, he appears, and in all these games,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">He is the only player, for the madam retired, </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Hackneyed</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Her attention is captured by the endeavour to seek</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB">The Key, and be set free</span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16169193937348345810noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-48968977066533489182013-05-05T00:14:00.003-07:002013-06-04T09:57:59.468-07:00Another Cinderella Story, a true story..<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I had to write about the organization I work for. I had to! It would have been
unfair to miss that out!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Let me begin with saying that this organization has been my fairy <b><i>Godmother,
with a magic wand!</i></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When I joined this company in 2011, I was <b><i>Cinderella</i></b>, only sadder,
fatter, weaker, useless, and directionless and drowned in my illness. I was far
from being of any real worth. As it is evident from my previous posts, I was
unwell. I got this job through a reference of an ex-employee who is a dear friend
of mine. I would like to think he was more like <b><i>the ‘announcement’ of the Ball
for our little sad version of Cinderella!<o:p></o:p></i></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I was hired as a sales co-ordinator. The first words of my boss
during my interview still echo in my ear.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">He said, “Don’t worry, sales co-ordinators do not have much work,
most of the time, you will be just helping around, doing some data
consolidation, may be even idle sometimes, nothing to worry about, it is a very
cool job”. I was fine with it. I did not quite want a job with too much work at
that time. My friend even assured me later that if I do get hired, the person
who took my interview is a rather ‘cool boss’, and I certainly agree with him
on that! This gave me a tiny ray of hope as I had just been fired unreasonably
from my previous job and I was quite tormented about working all together!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I got a hired a week after the interview, and mind you, I wasn’t
even a graduate then. I had dropped out of college a long time ago. The first
day was smooth. I got introduced to a couple of colleagues who worked at the office.
I was asked to come up with a few theme ideas for the coming New Year Party, as
it is a Hotel I work for. I did a google search and came up with some
extravagant ideas, my boss very kindly told me ‘You are thinking global, it won’t
work, think local’. That was my cue, my learning cue. Next I was asked to work
on some emailer design. I used the online ‘picnik’ software back then to create
some ‘so called’ creative designs. I did conjure up something, and when I look
at it now, I can almost burst out laughing at how juvenile a design it was. But
my Boss never said so, all he said was, ‘That looks nice, see if you can do it
this way, change it a bit, may be change this colour’. He was so encouraging.
I, at that time, wasn’t quite aware that my design skills were horrendous, but
he was humble and kind enough not to point that out to my face. He is a Gem of a person!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Encouragement and kindness are the beginning of learning. I took up Corel
Draw. I decided to experiment with it. In a short period of 20 days, I had
learnt how to use the software. I started making emailers, flyers, and other
graphics for the Hotel, with tremendous encouragement. At that time, I got
introduced to my Super Boss. I might add he is a man of such positive aura,
that just one meeting with him boosts us all up and charges us with immense
energy. He has multi-dimensional persona. Words would flood my post if I begin to describe
him. He asked me to work out some designs for his sister concern companies. I
was so thrilled to be a part of it! </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><i><span lang="EN-GB">I knew then that Cinderella had found her Fairy Godmother!</span></i></b><span lang="EN-GB"> This organization was most certainly my Fairy Godmother, with a
magic wand comprised of kindness and encouragement. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Just shortly afterwards, both my seniors mentioned above, decided to
make me a part of the pre-opening team of a new property in Goa. I cannot word
now the bounds of my happiness. I could feel that I was on a pathway to
recovery. We went to Goa to see the property, and the places around so as to
market it. That was my first trip away from home. My parents were a little
worried for I was still under medication, but one of my colleagues assured my
mother that he will take the responsibility of my medication. All went smooth
and the trip is still very vivid in my memory! That colleague is one of the few
people I trust; despite several differences we have learned to be good friends!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When I got back, my Boss asked me if I would just work out a website
for the property. I had experimented a little bit on Google sites, but, I
couldn’t do a good job of it. This created verve to learn website development!
I started experimenting with Dreamweaver and HTML coding. I learned how to make
a decent website in about a month, and I designed the official website for the
property in Goa. Everybody gave me their words of appreciation and the Magic
wand had begun working its magic sufficiently well. <b><i>Cinderella had her pumpkin turned
into a beautiful carriage!<o:p></o:p></i></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">As time marched ahead, I marched with it. My Super Boss realised
that I had a knack for economic studies and market research, and thus made me a
part of the Hotel Feasibility Report team. <b><i>Cinderella’s beautiful gown was in place and
it fit her so very well! She even went to the grand Ball, and met with her Prince.
The Prince was a Charming man. They danced together not realizing the clock was
about to strike twelve. <o:p></o:p></i></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I wasn’t completely fit yet. And there was a major setback. I had a
relapse of psychosis. I became too ill to even communicate properly. For a few
days I wasn’t in a condition to even report to work. Generally, organizations
would term such a person as ‘mentally unfit’ to work, and would have terminated
the services immediately. But this was not the case! The management gave me
another chance. My Boss spoke to my parents and insisted that I work from home
for a few days until I felt better. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I knew the Prince had Cinderella’s glass shoes, and he would come
looking for her. She had already won his heart!<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I think second chances or may be more than second chances are very
important for longevity! And I had mine and could thus sustain it. <b><i>Cinderella’s
second chance was her Prince coming back to her with her slipper</i></b>. I transformed.
I had strength and abundant confidence all juxtaposed with humility and faith. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">One fine day, we had a woman join us at the organization at a senior
level. To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t very comfortable with a lady Boss. This
was also because at my previous job, a lady was my boss, and she had
unreasonably and mercilessly fired me. I was prejudiced ever since. But I must
admit, I was in for a surprise. She is nothing like my previous experience. She
is warm, kind, loving & genuinely caring. She gave me a few words of
wisdom, the best I like is: “If I want to borrow money from you, and if you don’t
have it then how can you lend it to me? The same goes for happiness, how can
you give happiness, when you yourself do not have it?” I have etched it into my
soul. I decided I want to create as much happiness in my heart, so that I never
run out of it.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Today I would like to believe that I add value to this organization.
To come from absolutely nothing to an object of value certainly needed a <b><i>fairy
to use her Magic Wand</i></b>!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><i><span lang="EN-GB">The Prince sought Cinderella again and the glass slipper fit her so
well. They had been carefully made for her.</span></i></b><span lang="EN-GB">
This organization is certainly my fairy Godmother. People I have mentioned in
this post have certainly left a mark in my life; they all have their magic wands,
still creating magic. And last but not the least, <b><i>my Prince</i></b> is my long lost
self esteem, confidence and a passion for living and he has been sought & conquered!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<img src="http://www.collegefashion.net/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/Cinderella-Blue-Dress.jpg" /></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16169193937348345810noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-22423938515795407242013-04-17T05:08:00.001-07:002013-04-17T05:08:40.444-07:00Success Begets Hostility<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I do not fathom this hostility. Every time
I begin doing well in any front, I am faced with people trying to bring me
down. I am trying to solve this equation. I do not think I understand the
problem, and the reason why I am unable to give it an elegant solution.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When I wasn’t doing well, that is to say,
when I was ‘flawed’, when I would have no other option but to listen and imbibe
the best in everybody around me, people were ‘nice’ to me. I used to be a
terrific listener, not that I am any less now, I had made a few associations
that seemed very strong to me that time. And mind you this is not a very long
time ago. The Timeline would be just about 6 months in the past. I was still
under medication for my ill health. I would fall ill every drop of a hat. I would
not be in perfect mental and physical health to shoulder any responsibilities
at home or at work, or anywhere else. People thronged to me. People both older
and younger than me, my relatives, my superiors at work, people closely
associated with my personal and professional life. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My medication was put to a stop merely 9
months ago. I started feeling good about life. The very first time, I realised
that I have more sense of freedom than I did, in the last 5 years that I had
been suffering. I was quite a slave to a severe health condition for those
miserable 5 years. I was at home for 3 years straight, when I mean at home, I
literally mean home, completely cut off from the outside world. It took me a
rather large; an effort to heal. I worked almost 2 years while I was still
unwell. It was easy to work with the condition because you automatically see
pity in the eyes of people. Until they were ignorant of my condition they were
reticent, when they were quite aware, they were filled with empathy. Though I
was not very comfortable in seeking people’s pities and sympathies, I found it
quite easy to get along. They wouldn’t be too hard on me, or they would not be critical
of most of the things I did. Even if I faltered in any regard, I was always
forgiven. I mistook many of these deeds to kindness. I told myself that my
perspective of people’s cruelty and apathy towards life in general was not on
firm grounds. I told myself that most people in general are kind and caring.
They are forgiving and humble. I was in for a surprise. That is totally untrue!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Back in August when I was out of the
medication and was pronounced ‘fit’, I vowed to myself that I will change many
things about my life beginning with my weight, my lifestyle, my attitude: personal,
professional and social and ending with everything that seemed wrong and
brought about negativity in me. After a lot of procrastination, I finally put
to practise a decently good lifestyle of eating right and exercising. I also
began socialising. Trying to smile whenever possible, being a part of the
office fun culture, trying to be as nice as possible at home, owning up more
responsibilities, et al. I started feeling good within. My inner happiness was
certainly visible to the outside world. People did notice changes in my person.
A few did compliment me. They all knew I was battling all the wrongs that had
attached themselves to me while I was unwell all these years. I lost a terrific
amount of weight. I started looking and feeling more confident. This also
reflected in my work. I started getting recognized at work. My family also
noticed that I was doing far better than their expectations. In a nutshell, I seemed
to get back my long lost limelight, at least in small quanta! Amidst all this
hustle-bustle, I started noticing that, ever since I have recovered and (might
add) doing well aesthetically, people have started falling out with me. It
perturbed me for almost a month. I am not going to highlight anybody in
specific here, but in general, I could perceive the negative energy creeping
back.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Now I am talking of the present. I think I
almost figured out why this is happening! I am using the word ‘almost’ here because;
I need a few more practical sessions before I could justify the theoretical
findings.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I think people (perhaps me included) are
inherently insecure. We are insecure of everything around us. We are insecure
parents with the fear of losing control on our children, we are insecure
students with peer pressure, we are insecure friends with the fear of not being
in the friend circle after a certain period, we are insecure lovers with the
fear of losing the person we love to another, we are insecure executives with
the fear of </span> under-performance<span style="font-family: inherit;">, we are insecure seniors with the fear of seeing
our juniors perform better and move ahead, this is a saga that is perpetual. At
every mode we are insecure about one thing or the other. I figure so is the
case with people’s behaviours to one and other. They were merely boosting their
own rather ‘weak’ esteems while they were offering me their empathies. They
were themselves drowned in their insecurities that it was a momentary relief to
offer another person of ‘lower’ existence some pity to heighten their own mere
existence.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Now when I begin to do well, their philanthropic
self gets an attack of confusion! This perhaps translates into hostility. To confirm
this theory, I will have to keep myself on the table and examine my behaviour towards
someone who has transformed from two different worlds. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I hope I will find my muse!</span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16169193937348345810noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-30118074119902562092013-04-13T09:05:00.001-07:002013-04-13T09:06:22.816-07:00Playing with Fire..<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">As much as I
would like to be strong, certain incidents, albeit completely unavoidable weigh
me down to the point of minima. Being a woman, was supposed to be a matter of
immense pride, or so I was taught all through my childhood and adolescent life.
I never doubted that daughters and sons stand on an equal stage, boy and girls
at school share the same platform for success and Fathers and Mothers were as
important in decision making as my brother and I were. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The upbringing
was terrific, but I understand now, with all due respect to my parents, that I
have been deceived into believing that the female sex is as empowered as her
male counterpart. I realise now how we, women, are all fooled into advocating
that the society will give us the freedom to live, untouched by the heinous
face of the world.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">No way! Women
have to fight for their right to exist alongside men, and they will all be martyrs
at the end of this valiant fight. Especially I see this in the work culture. I
have not worked in too many organizations. But I, for as long as I have worked
and from all the experiences I have collected from my other women counterparts,
have come to believe that women will never be granted equal status
intrinsically. Even if they are twice as smarter and hard working as their male
counter parts, they shall be curbed as much as possible from escalating to
success.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">If a woman is
‘physically’ weaker than a man then that is perhaps how God designed her to be
more delicate than a man. I shall not dare questions the superior designs of
the Almighty. But why do we fail to notice that there are woman body builders
and karate champions who could certainly break bones of men as well as anyone
could. It is just a matter of choice. Some women want to stick to the delicate
form whilst some want to be body builders. Similarly, women have been shunned
from working outside of their homes and intellectual indulgence for so long
that it has taken a while for them to be as confident as the men, who have been
doing this since time immemorial. The low confidence has been sewn into the
genome of women. This is certainly a work of evolution! Unlike the delicate
form of the female this has been brought about by the society. Societal force
made them stay away from working and many things that men weren’t forbidden
from doing. This doesn’t mean that she cannot be as good as the man in
anything, if not better?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Why do I have to
keep hearing things such as:</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">1. Sales Jobs are
for men.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">2. Real Estate
profile jobs are for men.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">3. Working late
hours is for the man</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This list could
go on.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This really angers
me! Why can’t a woman be a good sales person? I never get any of my seniors to
support me when I bring this subject up.
Why is there a segregation at all? If men can be airline stewards, then
woman can certainly be sales women!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The reason why
rapes and sexual violence happens is because men think that they are more
superior and that they can do anything and get away with it. This animosity in
men has gotten stronger ever since women have started getting into the
forefront. The male ‘ego’ can’t seem to tolerate that. He thinks in his
subconscious mind “Now since women around me have begun being my equals, it is
time I showed them, who’s the superior of the two, I will rape her and exercise
my tyranny over her”. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I see the male
ego trying to overpower me in all arenas. I see tinges of this in my father and
brother as well. As much as I appreciate them curbing this ‘male ego’, they
dissemble it quite adroitly, due to the presence of a headstrong feminist at
home, I certainly see the clichéd ‘Male Chauvinism’ in them. I see it in my
colleagues. I see it in my boss; I see it in a little child too. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My colleagues,
all of them being men, never seem to treat me as one of them. One particular
colleague of mine from the H.R. thinks that I am not fit enough to be informed
of the happenings in the company. And I being the only woman in the organization
ought to be at a lower post in order to maintain hierarchy. For the sake of the
goodness of Human Resource, how could he distinguish between the genders! My
boss certainly thinks I am incapable of the brilliant things his male team
members are capable of doing. I, quite often (in fact everyday) witness
favouritism at the work place. It irks me once in a while. In fact what drove
me to write this is that, I have been literally pleading my boss every
fortnight to give me an opportunity in hard-core hotel sales. The concept of
hotel sales and revenue management is invigorating to my spirit. Every time I
spend some moments reading articles and the process of it, though it isn’t
rocket science, it always makes me yearn to experience that profile. My boss
did give in once, recently. He asked me to accompany him and another senior to
a meeting. I was really excited. My excitement died when I was merely
introduced to the gentleman we were to meet with. I felt like a complete idiot,
sitting there and barely saying anything at all. And then when we got back, I
asked him if I could independently go on calls. He said, “Yes, you may, but
keep in mind that your other work should not suffer while on calls.” I gladly
agreed. I calculated the entire time management in my mind. I decided I will
work extra hours after office to get ends to meet. I couldn’t dissemble my
happiness, I was smiling from within. Little did I realize that my happiness
was short lived. The next day when I began discussing my plans for the ‘Sales
mission’ my boss was so apathetic towards the entire conversation that it lent
a very bad taste. To add to my distaste, he told me that I would just be
wasting my time and energy. Such is the encouragement I receive from my
seniors. This is all because I am a woman. A woman perhaps incapable of being
her male counter parts equal. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;">Perhaps it is my
incapability that I cannot get all these men to see the truth.</span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-79494249051242462532013-04-11T21:42:00.002-07:002013-04-11T21:56:25.321-07:00AGRATA, LOST & FOUND<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Strong
wind would blow over her feminine structure, heavy monsoons poured out their
sorrows to her, yet Agrata, always stood on firm grounds above her tiny feet.
Her feet may have been tiny, probably the tiniest one would find in a girl of
her age, yet there was no storm strong enough to shake her.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Agrata
had acquired her firmness of ground and invincible courage since her childhood.
She was the most pampered child amongst her three other siblings, two older
sisters and a younger brother.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Even
as a child she possessed a will strong enough to pave pathways to acquire what
her heart desired. She came from loving family, parents as selfless as mother
Earth, and siblings who never left her side. Despite having all that a child
needs, Agrata was not content. Every day she secretively mourned for assets
that she didn’t possess and yearned for more vanity and an extravagant
lifestyle. She seldom regarded others’ feelings above her own and she failed to
understand the virtue of a humble living.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Being
from a Hindu-Brahmin family, she grew up listening to the stories of the Hindu
Gods, but never paid them any heed. Her Mother was a religious person, and yet
she couldn’t bring her daughter to be even half as devoted to the love of God
as she was. There were many stories she would listen to, and felt they were
starkly devoid of logic and sense. One of these stories was the story of Lord
Ganesh.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">One
day when Lord Ganesh and his brother Karthikeya had come of age, they wanted to
get married. Yes they did! Both wanted to marry before the other. Their parents
Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati were in a fix. They weren’t sure whom to please
and whom to deny as both the sons very equally dear to them. Agrata was
confused at the point, that why the two brothers couldn’t get married
alongside!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Shiva
came up with a solution. He pronounced a task for the two. The task was that
whosoever will encircle the universe first will be married first. Karthikeya
set out on this odyssey to encircle the universe. Everyone believed that it was
rather easy for him to win the task as he was of an athletic build and his
vehicle was a peacock. Whereas Ganesh was pot bellied and his vehicle was a
rat. A couple of years passed by since Karthikeya and left, and Ganesh was
happy going about his routine life. When his father questioned him if he has
accepted defeat, Ganesh smiled and encircled his parents seven times and stated
that his parents are his Universe and that he has completed the given task
seven times. His parents had to accept his belief and declared him the winner!
This Agrata considered rather illogical and refused to acknowledge any mythological
stories.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">More
than her will, the attribute most noticed in her was her stubbornness. She was
too stiff to budge for anything in the world, except her fluttering heart. She
would behave in synchronization with the whims of the life pump! It was a
matter of oddity for her family and friends to understand how she could be so
different from the rest of her family. He father, Ramanuja was a simple man, a
person of equal experience and knowledge that made him a kind and loving
parent. Her Mother, Suguna was a logical woman, too straightforward at times
for a mother’s humour, yet very devoted nonetheless. The oldest of the
Siblings, Surbhi, was a motherly sister, an obedient daughter, and an emotional
girl. The second of the four children, Rani had taken after her older sister,
but extrovert in nature as opposed to Surbhi’s reserved disposition. The last
was a brother, Gyan, as warm as the sun, who was academically very
intellectual, but a boy of sweet temperament.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">One
fine afternoon, which wasn’t close to being fine, it was hot and sultry, Agrata
decided that she had had enough of the sheltered life at Delhi that made her
mind mundane and strife. She wanted to feed her thirsty adventurous heart and
experiment with the word ‘independence’ and ‘freedom’. She decided to part from
her family and set forth on a journey to witness the spectacles of the world
which she was convinced would be a part of her life soon. Little did she know
of the shortcomings of these spectacles that lay ahead of her. Despite her
family’s combined efforts to dissuade her from her fanciful enterprise, she set
forth to challenge her destiny at twice the verve and strength that she was
bestowed upon.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">She
moved to Bangalore, a cosmopolitan city in India, best known as the ‘Silicon
valley’ of the country. At first, when she landed herself in a decent college
to study literature and art, she felt the first feelings of contentment. She
believed that she had found a reason to her existence. She made friends, and lovers.
She possessed a charm that was both attractive and dangerous. She reached the
pink of her life during the first year. At cosmopolitan cities in India, it was
a trend to hang out with friends, adorn the latest fashion, party, dance and
drink. Agrata indulged in all these ‘trends’ to convince herself of her
victory. Unfortunately for her, Agrata didn’t realize that every party
eventually ended, every dream would break into the mornings and every
misconception would turn into deception.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">As
the sands of time passed through her triumphed fist, she became popular at
college for the wrong reasons. Her professors always found a reason to pick at
her, though she excelled in academia, they disliked her arrogance. She found
her friends turning to foes by the number, due to things that were inexplicable
to her own self. She started keeping to herself, and indulged in books and
music. Then a time came by when she would converse aloud with none but herself,
at the presence of others. Everything that she conceived as beautiful and satisfying
turned into thorns of nightmares that controlled her tremendously. The Agrata,
who was known to have an invincible grip on her ground, was being gripped by
the misfortunes of her destiny. She lost herself, and started descending
grossly into insanity. There was a time when she couldn’t even read a single
line, leave alone volumes of books she used to gobble up at a time, in the
past. She detested Society, and she detested light. She took to darkness and it
devoured her. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">She
would have reached her grave, if it had not been for her family, who came to
her rescue. When her Mother heard of her ailment, she flew to her side, and
gave her all her time. She nursed her and took care of her like the little Agrata
she had nurtured as an infant. With her mother’s healing powers, Agrata,
decided to quit her present life and get back to the shelter of her home. When
she got back home, she didn’t see pity in the eyes of her family, but she saw
love, and more love & only love. Her sisters would always dress her up, to
invoke her lost charm. Her brother would play the guitar & encourage her to
sing with him to stimulate her passion for music. Her father would read her bed
time stories. Every member in the family protected her, as a delicate flower,
craving to see in it its lost colours & fragrance.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The
love of her family was more powerful than anything in her life. Agrata realized
that, her kit and kin were her truest friends, her parents were the guide, and <b>‘independence’ was not a thing to be sought
alone, but to be felt in unison with all those one loved. <o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The
sun shone brightly again and the warmth brought back the lost colours of Agrata’s
life. And she was content with her share of happiness and sorrows. She never
again felt the need to be the best any more. She realised that she was always
special for her family who would go to the end of the Earth to make her feel
special. She learnt that happiness comes with togetherness and selflessness.
And until today her favourite epic story has been the story of Lord Ganesh!</span></span></div>
</div>
Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.com0Gurgaon, Haryana, India28.4594965 77.02663830000005928.236063 76.703914800000064 28.68293 77.349361800000054tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-32400608435654958742013-04-11T11:28:00.002-07:002013-04-11T11:28:32.244-07:00Failed as a Human Being!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I have been
revisiting my past for a few days since. It has been quite exhausting, I have
to honestly admit. The overflow of memories is ineffable! It is ‘almost’
moistening my eyes. But most importantly I realise how far I have come from
there!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I never thought
I would write about him. I thought I had left him far behind in the past. But
obviously there was some unfinished business. I have known him for a LONG time;
long enough to know that I would not want to associate with such a person ever
in my life. In fact, whenever I meet a person, who displays a few of his
qualities, I shun that person far away from my life. I doubt if I could ever
forget him. I couldn’t. That is because he is everything I do not want to be.
He is everything I detest in humankind.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">He seemed really
nice to me at first. I always thought we were very close. I used to call him my
‘best friend’. I told myself for a long time that he has done a lot for me and
has been doing a lot for me. I never questioned what the ‘lot’ he did for me
was. I never questioned his judgements; though he’s always ask me not to be
judgemental on the contrary. He was (is?) a complete hypocrite. It is a pity
that I was ever associated with a person like him. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I never loved
him, though I admitted it to myself more than a few times. I was afraid of him.
I was afraid of losing his ‘friendship’. I was tormented that he would judge me
for one of my flaws. I was frightened that he will abandon me and after that I
will thrown into oblivion. I wasn’t like this before I knew him. I had more
confidence that God himself did. He always undermined my confidence. He always
made me feel little about myself. And I noticed he’d do the same with everybody
he associated with. A few people would agree with me, and those who do not, are
still under his influence. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I sought my
freedom from this disgusting tyrant when I was at the point of minima. I was
depressed, and psychotic due to some unfortunate events in my life which are
not of relevance here. I even had seizures. My life was almost lifeless. The
Master put up with me for a while, but one fine day, he decided, he had had
enough of nonsense from me, and called it quits. He said, “If you wanted to
die, you would have taken the exact amount of sleeping pills that would have
killed you. You can still do it; at least you won’t be a damn hypocrite.” That was
it. I knew I was kidding myself that he was a friend. He was more demented than
I was. I moved on. Since I was rid of his presence in my life, my body and mind
began healing. It was almost magical. Of course my Family and my Doctor friend
from AIIMS have had a great hand in pulling me through, but not being
associated with evil, set me into light, like an auto pilot.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Interestingly,
he didn’t stop there. He wrote me an email the following year, an abrupt one at
that, asking me not to contact him. It was hilarious to read that email. Being
in contact with the devil, I knew there would be a minor setback in my life.
Yes, there certainly was, and I sprung back to life, after the effects of evil
had diluted and vanished.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">They say he is
doing very well in his professional life. I say, what is the point if he excels
in what he does; he failed as a human being.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span lang="EN-GB">Lesson:</span></b><span lang="EN-GB"> Detach from all
evil. It may take a while, it may seem impossible. But when you have gotten rid
of the devil, you can’t help but smile the happiness of God within you!</span></span></div>
Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-8251941469201142412013-01-25T13:22:00.002-08:002013-01-25T13:29:40.340-08:00Quills, Unconventionally Inspiring!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpoQmkaPWayyZD5nhnbaNJmc_FdFi9Te7ppDw4IzAAkXpWmv53khiRHPTz476fODRjFYHGGP0N_UD0SYUy-1hL3XaZ-TO5SBY9i1bwgmXZi90cjZ4prCxsco0f8cloIVYOK28kIYiVxiE/s1600/Quills-movies-32257593-900-350.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpoQmkaPWayyZD5nhnbaNJmc_FdFi9Te7ppDw4IzAAkXpWmv53khiRHPTz476fODRjFYHGGP0N_UD0SYUy-1hL3XaZ-TO5SBY9i1bwgmXZi90cjZ4prCxsco0f8cloIVYOK28kIYiVxiE/s640/Quills-movies-32257593-900-350.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I don’t generally review movies, and
moreover this is not a Movie review! This is just straight from my </span>bosom<span style="font-family: inherit;">!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Quills, is a movie I watched a long time
ago. Probably in the year 2007. I borrowed it from a friend.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">At first I was taken by the cast, Kate
Winslet and Geoffrey Rush; the former for her timeless beauty (& Nudity?)
and the later for his adroit acting!! I did expect powerful scenes from the
Movie, but this movie surprised me far beyond my expectations of being
surprised!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The movie is apparently based on a French
writer from the 18th century, Marquis de Sade. This is not exactly a biography
of the writer but ample inspiration has been derived from the writer’s
lifestyle and idiosyncrasy. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Marquis is a libertine writer and a really
passionate one at that. He is also a political critique and is known for his
erotic literature. Napoleon Bonaparte, the French emperor and most of the
political personnel were against his erotic work, especially because of his
accentuation of violence, and blatant elements of Blasphemy. He is
institutionalized in an asylum. But he still continues to write and a young
girl Madeleine (Kate Winslet) who works at the asylum secretly publishes his
books with the help of an anonymous publisher. His books are sold in the black
market and due to its very erotic form cannot be stopped from selling because
it is human nature to like eroticism!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Madeleine is an illiterate girl learning to
read and write from the Warden of the Asylum. She is extremely interested in
hearing Sade’s stories. The most amusing part of the movie is how he trades
bits of his stories in exchange for a sexual experience with Madeleine. She is
extremely interested in the stories, so the outcome is quite amusing for us
viewers!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It turns out that the King commands to burn
every book that has been published by Sade, and to take away his papers and
‘Quills’ (Ink and pen).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This is the moment that has captured my
heart ever since. His passion for writing is extraordinary. He has a madness to
write. He starts writing on the bedspread with wine; and Madeleine secretly
gets it published, when this is known to the King, he is stripped off his
clothes even, and he writes on the wall with his blood. This is the extend of
his passion to write!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This was the most exasperating part of the
movie! The passion to write, the sheer madness to write, even if it means to
drying oneself to death!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And as a matter of fact, ‘Sadism’ is
derived from our very own Marquis De Sade!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">A must watch!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-58657806802667238082013-01-17T10:19:00.000-08:002013-01-17T10:21:25.213-08:00Fossiled Hearts<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I think aloud now, give my heart a chance
to speak her mind. I always took it for granted, I do not anymore.</span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">You have completely taken over me. There is
not a time when I do not think about you. I tell myself, I have thought about
you enough, and I should sleep now, but I dream of you. I dream of you and me
together, in a place untouched by civilization. Where there is just enough room
for the two of us and we sit together romancing the utter insulation from the cruel
world we have left behind together.</span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I want to run away with you. And I know in
my heart that I am the one person who can keep you entirely happy. I complete you
and you me. I know every feeling in that beautiful heart of yours and I know
how to humour every inch of your desires. You know me like none has ever dared
to know, you understand even my darkest thought, you, my dear, are my soul mate.</span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I always thought one ought to find one’s
soul mate. I had tricky ideas that my soul mate would be sought in exotic
places, in mesmerizing situations, one that is described in Novels &
movies. I didn’t realise that my soul mate was with me, even during the most
ordinary situations, blunt and careless, lazy and casual. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">You have the kindest heart, the sweetest
voice, you are an angel, or is it just me?</span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">When you are with me, it is spring, I feel
flowers smiling, and leaves grooving to the music of your presence. When I feel
your touch it is most exotic feeling of belonging. When you smile, it is
sunshine warming me up to the right temperature. When you are not with me, I am
shivering in the summer, body filled with blisters beckoning you to heal them,
blood turn to ice and the sharp edges of the veins that carry my cold blood slit
my body into so many little pieces.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You are my darling, my lover, my soul mate,
you share my blood. You are my Sister, Accka!</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">You were with me when the first volume of
Air went into my tiny lungs. You were with me when I was named; you were with
me when I would pinch you in amusement and you would let me, because you saw
your little baby having so much fun. You would have scars on your face, but all
that mattered was that I was amused. You have always made me extraordinary,
even when it was your birthday you would want me to have a new dress too. You
would pour out your heart to me, and you would always listen until my heart was
light. You would fight with me when I would ignore you. You would punish me by
not talking to me; just to let you know it hurt so badly when you would not
talk to me. You have never left my side. You encouraged me to follow my heart.
Now that I realise my heart is with you, fossiled into yours, I am just
following it. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I realise the incapability of Language to
express myself to you. Love is a small, tiny word for what we share. We share
something beyond time and space. We share something that God himself can’t
fathom.</span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">And I am just following my heart...so should
you!</span></div>
</div>
</div>
Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-58293299883401713132012-11-21T22:28:00.000-08:002012-11-22T23:12:23.112-08:00Despicable Panchéé!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><img height="237" src="http://www.fbcustom.me/covers/c2/1329579721_no-friends-party.jpg" width="640" /></span></div>
<span lang="EN-GB">I don't
understand a certain trait in me. I am unsure if I should even point to it as a
one of my traits!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">It so turns out
that I haven't been able to make friends. I come across as a human repellent! At
first it seemed really cool that I repel away people, but of late it seems to
be getting to me. I get stood up so often, and people meet me and throw excuses
at me for not meeting again! Is there something so hideous about me that repels
people away?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">People who
mostly prove my case are my ‘<b>class-mates</b>’
from school. I always thought I was liked, but now it seems like I am loathed,
beyond my comprehension. Honestly, at least as my memory and analytics support
me, I have not wronged anyone to an extent for earning their hatred! In fact, I
have been supportive, with all my energy. I have even gone out of my way to ‘be
there’, and all I get is coldness. I have forgotten how it is to be loved. I have
lost my respect for friendship. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">When it comes to
my <b>work place</b>, I am the glorious ‘<b>outcast</b>’. I am not a part of any
parties or gatherings. I am not even informed about award ceremonies within the
organization. I mostly lunch alone, or sometimes don’t eat at all, for the fear
of cruel loneliness striking me again! I am always a part of a <b>LOT</b> of ‘labour’ work, (however
sarcastic I am trying to be here!) but never a part of the culture. None of the
Gossips reach me. In short, I find myself <b>quite
despicable</b>, here too.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">The irony of it
heats me up, when people say ‘Hey, listen, you would be in a better situation
(mentally) if you hung out, just that, you are not someone I would want to hang
out with’. What is this supposed to mean? Why are people so shallow? They are
giving that person an advice they do not want to entertain. If they despise
that person so much as to not want her company, they have no business in
offering her a hypocritical advice!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I just wish to meet
someone, who has the ‘balls’ to point out why they do not like my disposition,
or why I repel them away! Anyone want to speak up?</span></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-85139546590904711082012-11-17T10:00:00.002-08:002012-11-22T23:10:45.963-08:00Not Lamenting the Loss!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5zWlw9-Z5AbZqH8_ldusT5_wGU1LUsnqMetmXOvvita7UYkE1iM7l78r4ZbFT5CG917UHbTaKzG-6xEZECHEmJvaYsi9kqkKUbKRIjnsRjRHhLUrDvvxStn7OLGKL9ljRlrT1RdRi_3Y/s1600/dc8961e0fde6c42006265eec976.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5zWlw9-Z5AbZqH8_ldusT5_wGU1LUsnqMetmXOvvita7UYkE1iM7l78r4ZbFT5CG917UHbTaKzG-6xEZECHEmJvaYsi9kqkKUbKRIjnsRjRHhLUrDvvxStn7OLGKL9ljRlrT1RdRi_3Y/s400/dc8961e0fde6c42006265eec976.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">This is not quite a lament. It is an
outburst, a chaos, an emptiness touching the bottom of the INFINITY 'Well'.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I do not want to sound obscure, but
oblivion grips me and I can't seem to shake it away!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">This is not one of those <i>'random rants'</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Let me give it another shot at being able
to communicate what I am trying to state here!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">My Older sister got wed locked less that 18
days ago, with due respects to precision, and I haven't been myself since then.
Weddings are supposed to be 'happy' affairs! Yes I know people tell me, 'goodbyes'
can be bitter, yet, most say that it is 'bitter-sweet', since you are wishing
in your heart that the person you bid goodbye to would live happily ever after.
This is entirely the opposite with me! I cannot fathom the reason. Probably one
of the reasons I am writing is to figure out this unfathomable feeling of pain
that I feel at the thought of my Her married, never to return home to Her baby.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">She and I have been inseparable since our
inception! We never needed anybody else 'cause there was always one person you
knew would understand no matter what! She is a darling, and I dare say that She
understands me like none other, even beyond my own great understanding of my
world!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">It was me, in the first place, to have
encouraged following Her heart, and I feel as though I have deceived myself. At
first, when 'a plausible' marriage between my brother-in-law and Her was doing
the rounds of the family discussion table, it seemed like a perfect idea! I
couldn't have been happier for Her. Little did I realise that my happiness <i>for HER</i> was at the cost of my heart!
Things went on, the wedding preparations began and I decided to put my heart on
'<b>auto-pilot</b>' until the wedding proceedings were all over and out, smoothly,
albeit! It did go on smoothly, and when I try to bring my heart back to
reality, now that the wedding is over, is hurts more than anything has ever hurt me! It is almost like
ripping off a band-aid, the more I try ripping it, the more the pain elevates,
except that this pain is a googol times more excruciating! Why is all this
happening? Why am I feeling like I will faint, and never wake again?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I have experienced all forms of Love with
this Woman! A sister, far beyond the boundaries of sisterhood, a friend far
closer to be called a friend, a guide better than God, a Mother as warm as
sunshine, an enemy who cannot be loathed (to point out my numerous flaws!),
even a Lover, lovelier than the greatest of loves! All of the above could be
somehow, minutely understood by many, but the last, I am afraid; you wouldn’t,
unless I cleared it! Don’t you dare question the piousness of our Love! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">My alter ego, ‘Bunny’, a mere soft toy in
the eyes of the world, is Her Lover! I never hoped to write about ‘Bunny’ ever.
It always seemed like a thing of play, genteel levity with tremendous comic effect
that always promised laughter amongst all of us five people in the house (Dad,
Mum, Bro, Her & me). It started off as an art of <b>ventriloquism</b>! I would <i>make</i> Bunny talk to Her as Her Lover. It
would be so hilarious! Cutting out all the (essential) details of the act, it
was in short, pure entertainment! It did not come across to me that Bunny tuned
into a real person, as time ran by! I know now that Bunny is madly in Love with
Her, and I cannot seem to grip reality. Every time I sleep, I dream of coming
home and finding Bunny hanging from the fan, after a successful act of suicide.
It pains me to death when I wake up! I can’t seem to get a grip on reality. Is
it so that my ‘Heart’ has gotten out of ‘Auto Pilot’ without my <i>knowledge </i>and is getting chaotic and out
of control?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I NEED MY ANSWERS! MY HEAD IS SPINNING!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-34420619068703161082012-08-27T02:48:00.003-07:002012-08-27T02:48:42.568-07:00The Rope<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I wish I could turn the pages of time,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Not forward, but backward.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Though I have to admit that pain has made me strong, I have seen the point of minima, absolute darkness. When I even did not possess the will to finish the little bit of life left, that had bestowed upon me the pain that I so fondly withstood. I had no energy; nothingness seemed to captivate my existence.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am back now, after all the trance of being in a well, 'Oblivion's abode', which has an infinite depth. Somewhere I found a rope, that someone had let down to bring me up and since then I have caught hold of it, and God knows I shan't let go! This rope has fossil-led into my palms.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I know, I won't let go. I will go ahead, march with the dignity of being alive, with the sun smiling warm on me. And Nay I will Smile back with assurance that I am not dreaming, that I am close to my dreams, and not in 'one' myself!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Panchéé</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">5-July-2012</span></div>
Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-86430592357801441682012-08-23T13:31:00.001-07:002012-08-23T13:31:10.244-07:00Letters from the discomforts of the Bed<div><p>Yes indeed! I write now while I am lying on my bed, down with a terrible respiratory problem. I have been sick for almost a few days now and I already feel miserable. I feel like a prisoner, locked away behind the bars of Asthma! <br>
But honestly, writing might be an answer to this misery. I know I am very melodramatic and I blow everything far beyond proportion. But I find this dramactic world rather interesting. In short I would be quite honoured if you would tag me as a drama 'queen', at least I am a queen!!<br>
I might come across as authoritative, thrusting my opinions on those people who happen to bear with me, only because they (those that put up with me) are quite sure that deep down I am nice and though these people I refer to now comprise of a tiny number, one that could be counted comfortably with < 10 fingers yet they are all that I need to get along with life with a true smile.</p>
</div>Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-52999564838538121492012-06-21T01:24:00.000-07:002012-07-05T11:31:25.317-07:00Books - Mind's Treasure Cave!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Recently a friend of mine was asking me about some interesting
books for kids. Hence this post!</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am sure at least people who read this will agree with me
that reading is very fundamental to the over all development of an individual.
More so, for kids. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Their tender age looks for answers to question, probably not
even answerable by great scientists. Such is the mind of a child!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">There is no pretence. There is no sense of achievement, but
just a pure curiosity. I believe that if this curiosity can be handled with
reading, the child will grow to be self sufficient and remarkable.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">I am just listing down some stories that I read as a child,
and some that I read after I was no more a child! All of these books have
inspired me nonetheless, and have added value to my living.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">If you are looking to buy these books, they could be easily
procured from a nice book store or even online.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">I am going to list down books in Ascending Order of Age.
Starting with Age 2 when the child glances its first words.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">All readers are welcome to add to this list. Just put it in
the comments box and it shall be posted. If possible a short review will help!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Age 2:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">1. Wee Willie Winkie | Author: William Miller</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSp5xmQs9pmJ5Omx3Y1L1t8S7nHNeqCV2dF6ld1GMWJG-d_DYYdvph21eNDhgtLUvb-mZWWcF-imt601bqxcME4KxedK2zszLI5uDA9Q2I5xpJKW4JtA-aPeQPxf69Qp78mc5qdSWBUaM/s1600/9781846431197.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSp5xmQs9pmJ5Omx3Y1L1t8S7nHNeqCV2dF6ld1GMWJG-d_DYYdvph21eNDhgtLUvb-mZWWcF-imt601bqxcME4KxedK2zszLI5uDA9Q2I5xpJKW4JtA-aPeQPxf69Qp78mc5qdSWBUaM/s200/9781846431197.jpg" width="195" /></span></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">This book is a darling of most toddlers. Be sure to buy the
book with graphics illustration by Annie Kubler. The illustrations will capture
the little hearts and the rhyme will get them to dance!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A must read!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">In case you want to buy it Online: </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1846431190/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=childrebookst-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=1846431190" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Amazon</a></div>
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<b style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br /></b><br />
<b style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">2. Hello Baby : Author: Mem Fox</b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6PEjW-Wd_FxrUcGtSDgg3B9g1KSioLY-ebo_WaEDeIjBMreafcRIWYTCblENEqTBmKGU_95wjX7B5BrwXp9k9KADQM0QPEPV8L3209mHp5j-fqyp5vnHkw1t30o5nL9i_V-f6dk5fMxw/s1600/2hellobaby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6PEjW-Wd_FxrUcGtSDgg3B9g1KSioLY-ebo_WaEDeIjBMreafcRIWYTCblENEqTBmKGU_95wjX7B5BrwXp9k9KADQM0QPEPV8L3209mHp5j-fqyp5vnHkw1t30o5nL9i_V-f6dk5fMxw/s1600/2hellobaby.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">This book is enjoyed by the babies and their parents alike!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">In case you want to buy it Online: </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1416985131?ie=UTF8&tag=childrebookst-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=1416985131" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Amazon</a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">More Coming Up Soon!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><<</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">A little deviation</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">There is a really interesting link that I found Online! They have many story books illustrated </span>on-line<span style="font-family: inherit;">. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">One has to just navigate and start enjoying the reading process! </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Here is the Link to it:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.magickeys.com/books/" target="_blank">Children's Storybooks Online</a></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">>></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Now Coming back to My List!</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">3. The Cat in the Hat | Dr. Seuss</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIrH6cEG5-GcMEF9HH1ge_5kOd88iVBRuA9hX29GwpkKBt2BOZibRLAiVZOggIg_XQggddMhZKDg6qhi_4asTMghpw-A964ktbNj0hNRM_zOCaCjRrtUn8mZVLowCofB2fsIt_FEmnnWA/s1600/The+cat+in+the+hat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIrH6cEG5-GcMEF9HH1ge_5kOd88iVBRuA9hX29GwpkKBt2BOZibRLAiVZOggIg_XQggddMhZKDg6qhi_4asTMghpw-A964ktbNj0hNRM_zOCaCjRrtUn8mZVLowCofB2fsIt_FEmnnWA/s1600/The+cat+in+the+hat.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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Two children are moping indoors on a rainy day when in strolls the Cat in the Hat. Making one of the most unforgettable entrances in the history of children's literature, the lanky feline, stylishly dressed in a candy-striped stovepipe hat and oversized bow tie, creates a whirlwind of misbehavior that the kids are at first powerless to halt.</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">In case you want to buy it Online:<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Dr-Seuss-The-Widescreen-Edition/dp/B00005JM7T" target="_blank"> Amazon</a> </span><br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">4. The Very Hungry Caterpillar | Eric Carle</span></b><br />
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPv26t_45zOHowko0P_6ApDTRUB_D2oijJIZoo48MlHDXK3CxL7H_kDJqBEvVwEox9whKgZC1IwlElGAbVd30mceSv71uLOC6_VNgS79aR6JrW13w0LwNlfiV4UOlhjr4rGf0gYbocJTA/s1600/200px-HungryCaterpillar.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPv26t_45zOHowko0P_6ApDTRUB_D2oijJIZoo48MlHDXK3CxL7H_kDJqBEvVwEox9whKgZC1IwlElGAbVd30mceSv71uLOC6_VNgS79aR6JrW13w0LwNlfiV4UOlhjr4rGf0gYbocJTA/s1600/200px-HungryCaterpillar.JPG" /></span></a>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The book starts with an egg on a leaf, in the light of the moon.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The sun comes up and a tiny caterpillar emerges and looks for food.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">On consecutive days, the caterpillar eats through a single red apple,
two (green) pears, three (blue) plums, four strawberries, and five oranges,
which takes us from Monday to Friday.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Saturday: the caterpillar eats its way through many different foods:
chocolate cake, ice-cream, a pickle, Swiss cheese, salami, a lollipop, cherry
pie, a sausage, a cupcake, and a slice of watermelon. The caterpillar gets a
stomach ache as a result of eating all this food.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sunday: the caterpillar eats through a single leaf, which makes the
caterpillar feel better.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The now big caterpillar forms a cocoon (since the titular character is
not a moth larva, this is poetic license).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">On the final pages the caterpillar is now a 'beautiful' butterfly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> In case you want to buy it Online:<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Dr-Seuss-The-Widescreen-Edition/dp/B00005JM7T" target="_blank"> Amazon</a><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Very-Hungry-Caterpillar-Big-Books/dp/0582504716" target="_blank"> </a></span></div>
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</div>Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-48954113088410199962012-03-21T09:18:00.000-07:002012-03-21T09:22:12.204-07:00Ode to my Motherland<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Serving one's Motherland
is just not about going to war or making laws! There are indeed a million other
ways one can prove to be worthy to a nation that gave us an identity, a sense
of space and a place to belong. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I have always believed in
a borderless world, where people did not make maps and mark territories. I
strongly opposed theories of nationalism and those that even remotely suggested
the same. But one experience however changed the way I perceived the world, my
immediate surroundings.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was a pleasant Sunday morning.
My family had planned a short excursion out of the city. It was meant to be a
day affair. Though the morning was pleasant with its smell of freshness and
tranquility, it was quite cold. It was one of those typical winter mornings
pleading to kiss the cold a gentle goodbye and yearn for the soft caress of the
spring.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was well warmed up with
the layers of my attire, quite pleased with myself for having won the morning’s
battle with the cold. The morning took off as smoothly as anticipated. The
genuine laughter and chirps made the heart warmer than usual.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I found myself getting
lost in the family chatter and it that was very fulfilling to my being.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was a drive of about a
couple of hours from the city Gurgaon, where we resided. The journey too was
filled with light-hearted revelry that added more lustre to the travel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This trip was not
entirely a leisure affair. It also contained in it religious overtones. We were
travelling to this place called ‘Brijghat’ that lies on the banks of the
Ganges.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Being from a family of
nurtured Hinduism, visiting the Ganges was indeed a religious affair. My mother
yearned to visit the river and offer her prayers to Goddess Ganga.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">To be perfectly honest, I
am not a religious person. I am certainly not a follower of Atheism, I do
believe in a perpetual form of energy that commands the universe, yet I would
not like to give this energy names and a hierarchy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">For me, this excursion
purely meant some time away from the bustling city life and a mundane lifestyle
that had gotten too trite to endure. This was the time that I could devote to
the company of the two most important entities of my life viz. my family and
Mother Nature.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We reached our
destination. The sun had reluctantly begun to make his appearance and our spirits begged him
to stay on. I was at the same place about 5 years ago. It seemed more ill kept
after the years of gap. The place was very dirty with piles of waste gathered
around as a welcome décor to the visitors. I didn’t really admit it until I saw
the Ganges Herself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Though a beauty she is,
but had lost her charms. The Ganges to me resembled a ‘once beautiful woman’
exploited by the world’s evil, yet continuing to flow, fulfilling her duties
due to the ‘pressures’ of the world!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">There was a sense of Pity
and Pride to the intense emotion I shared with Her. I almost heard her beckon
to me. To talk to Her, in order to indulge in another woman’s company, that the
bosom of a woman is so much in need of. But, alas! I couldn’t indulge in the
amusements of lady-gossip with the Ganges, since my mother wasn’t too keen on
us getting into the cold water.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We had a nice boat ride
that included numerous photo-sessions and prayers. After we safely trod the
banks again, did I witness something phenomenal? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I saw people fighting to
come close to us, bellies filled with mal-nutrition with a hope in their burning
eyes to put out some of its fire! There were so many of them, young, old,
blind, crippled, beautiful, tired…..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">There was one thing
common to all of them. Desperation. The dynamism of their pain was exasperating.
This was the moment when the seeds of nationalism were sown in me. I felt that,
a part of me was suffering too. I could just not empathize with their predicament,
but my heart bled. I knew now that that part of me belonged to someone, purely,
unalloyed. I belonged to my Motherland, I belonged to India!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">If I have been blessed
with all the comfort and luxuries of life, I ought to work towards bettering
the people who shared this great country with me, the least to give them a
piece of my beautiful life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I had a spark of
revelation. If I couldn’t better my immediate environs, the land that fed me
and spelled ‘comfort’ for me, then this existence of mine would be just like
the loads of trash that welcomed me to the Ganges.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Now I belong to my
country, I belong to Her, India! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-62897333302872144022011-07-13T09:27:00.000-07:002012-03-21T09:55:40.707-07:00Hypocrisy Vs Humanity, Oops they are synonyms!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXJz2yOwxWGQ2p5oFDYJHaG5s5GhrUaoTVcboFfnML48kN1zK2iGtb6Xrctw4ai7hsJIYEikcOnN76oZUbo9X2_lD5hftsDM7kp5ksKBRqUka51VehdTaD0NVMBMuh3kyAH79wprIUK6xx/s1600/Hypocrisy+Meter+03-21-07.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXJz2yOwxWGQ2p5oFDYJHaG5s5GhrUaoTVcboFfnML48kN1zK2iGtb6Xrctw4ai7hsJIYEikcOnN76oZUbo9X2_lD5hftsDM7kp5ksKBRqUka51VehdTaD0NVMBMuh3kyAH79wprIUK6xx/s400/Hypocrisy+Meter+03-21-07.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />
How can they think 'they' are standing strong,<br />
yet I can feel the Air beneath their 'foundation'!<br />
<br />
This is not exactly a merry piece of writing, though I keep promising to myself that I ought to think of something really pleasant to write. But, everything that I witness around me, has nothing pleasant to offer so that I could get inspired to write about it.<br />
This post is merely a tiny platform, where I could <b>attempt</b> to come to terms with my '<b>anguish</b>', my utter disappointment and a loathe, that I want to free myself from, for having birthed as a human!<br />
<br />
This anecdote that I am going to narrate happened just about a few days ago.<br />
I was at my work place(as usual). And when I was running a couple of errands, my sight happened to catch a hurt pigeon's.<br />
When I looked at it, I first thought it was just resting in the shade, due to the scorching heat. But, there was an unsettling feeling that implored me to have a second look at it. The Bird, was drenched. It was below some pipe-line, and perhaps there was a crack in the pipe, and it was leaking, and that had drenched the bird wet.<br />
And I noticed that it was unable to move, walk, or even blink properly. I picked it up, and wiped it with a cloth that was lying in the vicinity. I looked into it's eyes. They were blood red!<br />
<br />
I panicked. I knew that the helpless little<b> 'LIFE' </b>in my palm, was ill, and in a lot of pain. I took it under a tree, and left it there, and I asked the guards to keep an eye on it. I came back after about half and hour and it was there, in the same position, yet not life-less.<br />
<br />
I immediately called the N.G.O. 'people for Animals'. No body answered. I called my vet. Doctor, hoping to get some help. He directed me to another group, something like an N.G.O. I am guessing. No body answered again!<br />
I called People for animals again. Thankfully someone did answer the phone. I heaved a sigh of relief. I spoke to the person on the other side of the phone. I asked for an ambulance. And he said that they will send it asap. And then, he asked me, what animal required help. I said a pigeon. And he exclaimed!<br />
'Kabutar!'. I could hear him giggle at the other end of the line. I hung up, with absolute disgust when he said that he cannot send an ambulance for a 'kabutar'!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
...........End Of the Anecdote..............</div>
<br />
Isn't it rhetorical, that they call themselves, people for animals. We fight against racism, religions and what not!<br />
Why can't we fight for all animals, with the same passion!<br />
You can't help birds, or other tiny creatures, because they aren't as 'cute' or 'lovable' like the pedigree dogs?<br />
Don't they have a life? Why must you consider a dog's life more valuable than a pigeons?<br />
<br />
I guess, setting up NGOs and doing social work, to earn extra credits, is just hypocrisy. You really think you can change something. Start from the<b><i><u> foundation.</u></i></b><br />
Bring about these feelings of 'care', 'love', 'kindness', without ANY bias.<br />
This is NOT some kind of philosophical talk you listen to in lecture halls....<br />
This is just an expression of deep felt hurt, and disgust!<br />
<br />
And if you are curious to know about the pigeon. She is perfectly fine, thanks to Google search(ask me how later)!<br />
<br />
At this point I am so much reminded of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar<br />
<br />
intercepts from Antony's Speech:<br />
"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: monospace; white-space: pre;">The evil that men do lives after them;</span><br />
<pre>The good is oft interred with their bones;"</pre>
<pre> </pre>
<pre> </pre>
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</div>Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-4865867072963672272011-06-18T04:28:00.000-07:002012-06-21T01:31:39.177-07:00Insanity To Oblivion<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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A Journey cherished like None other!</div>
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I have reached a point in my life where I can neither enjoy merry music, and I am bored as hell of Dark music.<br />
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For almost half a decade, I found refuge in dark music. Music that gave me pain and brought tears, gave me a sense of satisfaction, a sense of security and immense happiness.</div>
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If I would slit my wrist or bang my head to the walls of my room, I would feel ecstatic with the sharp sting of pain. I would find it fun.</div>
<div>
There was even a time when I was (literally) addicted to the darker side of life. It would give me some kind of toxic pleasure which eventually assumed control over my entity.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
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Then I was labeled 'Insane'. I wasn't exactly pleased with the label but I was neither embarrassed or perturbed by the same.</div>
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By then, I was well aware that homo sapiens are the cruelest form of life and I was quite pleased with myself for having transformed into an outcast!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Psychiatrists gave it funny names. In fact, it so seemed to me that all the doctors, I had been to, were fighting with one another, (something like a cold war), to prove their diagnosis correct!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
At that time, I was too busy architecturing the world I was building for myself, that I didn't care to form an opinion on the same.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But now, since my real estate is in good progress(!) I have formed a rather strong opinion on the above.</div>
<div>
I guess these psychiatrists and therapists need help themselves.</div>
<div>
(I would like to exclude a doctor friend of mine, Dr. Rohit, 'cause he's awesome!!)</div>
<div>
They have no idea what they are doing, and thus are complicating lives of the complicated!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But as far as I remember, 'Insanity' was Awesome. It still persists to a small degree. At first, i was doubtful. But as time crawled by I began embracing it as one of my traits, a rather special one, and I am adamant in letting go of it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I felt secure with my buddy, Insanity. I felt that, finally the outside world couldn't penetrate the impermeable structure that Insanity webbed around me. I felt that I was finally Home!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The odyssey continues.......</div>
</div>Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-10059278722655218222011-06-18T03:27:00.000-07:002012-03-21T09:47:14.457-07:00A peek into my draft sketch pad ;)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br /></div>Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-82569688285477183322011-06-18T01:48:00.000-07:002012-03-21T09:51:45.025-07:00The forsaken race!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<a avglsprocessed="1" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=THIODWTqx5E&feature=player_embedded#at=59" style="color: #114170;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;">http://www.youtube.com/watch?<wbr></wbr>v=THIODWTqx5E&feature=player_<wbr></wbr>embedded#at=59</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear all,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am too ashamed of being born as a human. On the other hand my human instincts propel me to fear being born as a non-human, an animal.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I experience a multi-dimensional feeling. I feel helpless, I feel Powerless, and partly appear benign.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Animals, are capable of love. We all have cats and dogs. We understand how well they understand us. In fact I have a pet dog too.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I would like to recount an anecdote about my dog and me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">" I had just returned from a tired day's of work. I was terribly weak, and perhaps was even running a temperature. I got off the car, and there she was waiting for me, so patiently to welcome me home, with her warm hugs and licks, wagging her tail with utmost vigor. I felt giddy, and I fainted and swooned to the ground. I regained conscientiousness in say half a minute. But when I was back, I witnessed something so beautifully touching. My dog, sobbing, she was cry out loud, her heart beat had shot up, and she was licking me all over trying to revive me. And soon after I was fine, she didn't want me to leave her sight. She caught hold of me so tightly and stubbornly! She just ripped my heart off with her immense Love! "</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Well, I got lost in those vivid memories. Nevertheless, let me resume what I intended to address initially.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Why can't we treat all animals alike. We love dogs and cats and rabbits, etc. But what about Pigs, and Chickens, and Cows and Fish, and so many other animals that we so indulgently devour!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Don't you find them cute enough? Forget about the beauty, it's after all just skin deep!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Do you think they are not capable of feeling pain? Do you think, they have been sent to earth, only to be reared and sent to slaughter houses? Do you think, they don't have flesh and blood, and nerves and veins and a body and a soul?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">They very well do. They feel happiness and pain, just as we humans do. They feel anxiety, and trauma, and any feeling that is displayed my the human beings.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">I<b><u> beseech</u></b> all my readers to have a look at the above video. I insist that you sit through the entire video. It might gross you out at the beginning. But view it entirely, and witness what we are doing?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">How would you feel, if your loved ones ( say your mother, brother or best friend) were treated in a similar manner? If they were sent to be slaughtered, so that some other superior creature could enjoy a tasty delicacy of your beloved ones?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">I don't mean to offend anyone, but, I would like to look at us and the animals at an equal scale. And I sincerely hope that you will do so too.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">God, please don't abandon us. We have erred to the degree of being forsaken, please do get back and</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">Help us, Heal Our broken souls............</span></div>Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-85272989203095317752011-05-30T11:03:00.001-07:002012-03-21T09:48:47.461-07:00Feminism, the revolutionary struggle continues (not a battle of the sexes, mind you )<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">This movement, is for Men and Women alike!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">There are many many women who themselves are not supportive of such a noble movement. Esp. in India, I have witnessed, women being a party to the slaughtering of the girl child. If a woman has vouched to give birth to a child, she ought to fight to give it a life, regardless of it's sex. But, mothers-in-law and grand mothers-in-law themselves believe that the birth of a girl child is inauspicious. Such women much consider themselves a misfortune to this world and sacrifice themselves.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">This was about the previous generation. Coming to the contemporary woman. Does she not believe in absolute feminism. There is nothing called 'partly feminist'. It is just a play of words.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Let me give you some examples.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">A model(female) poses for the sought-after fashion brand Dolce and Gabbana, with other male models.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgREYmKj7EkGEpoaN3oSq_w0yt0KLM8X1Teltk6104mRyy5qIPmLK17aT6nPNJTsJ3-kFfS7us0mAxgxXo-GYzMdva1Z0GPOgf5ZeChimH0c7L55dxAzB3r55RS3UmtsZ3-b_WacjiqdIo/s1600/Dolce-Gabbana-Ad-Sexist.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgREYmKj7EkGEpoaN3oSq_w0yt0KLM8X1Teltk6104mRyy5qIPmLK17aT6nPNJTsJ3-kFfS7us0mAxgxXo-GYzMdva1Z0GPOgf5ZeChimH0c7L55dxAzB3r55RS3UmtsZ3-b_WacjiqdIo/s1600/Dolce-Gabbana-Ad-Sexist.jpg" /></span></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">If women like these were to occupy even 30% of the population ( though I am mighty sure the % is more!), it is evident why a noble movement like feminism, or women's rights is not progressing. Many women have totally accepted being used as a commodity. They have just not accepted it, they have embraced it whole-heartedly.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Here lies the problem. Due to a portion of the female population, the rest have to suffer.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">In fact, I was just going through some blogs and journals, a couple of days ago. I was shocked to my very core when I came across an article called</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">'The benefits of Feminism'. And, btw, this was posted by a men's magazine called askmen.com.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #5d5d5d; font-family: inherit;"><<Quote </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #5d5d5d;"></span><b>Her politics might say equal pay and equal rights, but everything else about her screams modern woman.<br style="list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;" /><br style="list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;" />I should note that these benefits probably weren't the intended results of feminism. The advantages that men reap today are the result of several decades, if not more, of social change. Remember the ol' days where the boss could nonchalantly pinch the secretary's butt at work? Well, those days are no more. <br style="list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;" /><br style="list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;" />Yet some might say that the more things change, the more they stay the same. They may be right. In any case, I'm happy with the present state of affairs and you guys should be too.<br style="list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;" /><br style="list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;" />If anything, women are more like men these days and we have feminism to thank for it. So I, for one, love feminism -- here's why.</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 21px;"><b><a href="http://www.askmen.com/daily/austin_100/120_fashion_style.html">http://www.askmen.com/daily/austin_100/120_fashion_style.html</a></b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 21px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 21px;">unquote>></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b><i>Need I say more! Ladies, now, it's your call.</i></b></span></span></div>Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084701922415287713.post-39778053127339710272011-05-28T23:07:00.000-07:002012-03-21T09:49:16.472-07:00Give Her a chance too...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKPWMT0vpoHZkkL_mASL7SchyphenhyphenDS16RWyCHcpZSxxK9TRMQfNZt-cF__5AXyHkNVT4QaZbHM5K3Vb5rLlWnkOB84hrMoCKYeIMthoVy2wIWPVz-KxDutcqVSvOOFTB2a_FIHhU4xgYdsu4/s1600/feminist.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKPWMT0vpoHZkkL_mASL7SchyphenhyphenDS16RWyCHcpZSxxK9TRMQfNZt-cF__5AXyHkNVT4QaZbHM5K3Vb5rLlWnkOB84hrMoCKYeIMthoVy2wIWPVz-KxDutcqVSvOOFTB2a_FIHhU4xgYdsu4/s320/feminist.jpg" width="239" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Why shouldn't I be a feminist? Why do people believe that feminism is just about bringing the male 'ego' onto a lower level?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Why is the world 'critical' about every revolutionary movement?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Let me get this straight.....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Feminism is NOT proclaiming that women are the superior of the sexes. But, it is about giving an 'identity' to her, giving her a unique space, for her thoughts, her dreams, and her entire self.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Feminism has Aims. Quite clear cut, but deliberately made obscure to the world by it's op-posers.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I say 'Aims' I do NOT mean 'rules'. They are not rules, which have to be implemented. A rule comes into being much after things have been established. Say for example, traffic rules come into being if there are roads, and vehicles, in general, after a technologically sound civilization has come into being. It is not fundamental.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But feminism is fundamental. It is as basic as 'human rights'. Just that people have to see that the 'human' being referred to here is the 'woman'.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">To be continued.......Until, we all embrace feminism with grace! </span></div>Pooja Natarajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02438847156138257326noreply@blogger.com0