<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34990430</id><updated>2012-02-17T03:39:49.043+05:30</updated><category term='war'/><category term='time'/><category term='death'/><title type='text'>andromans</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>M. Venkat Laxman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17231849935323163238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/80/253169038_42a39c8f60_m.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34990430.post-1053714885250408169</id><published>2011-10-17T17:35:00.006+05:30</published><updated>2011-10-17T17:48:39.139+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Rejuvenated: My feet are happy too!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EgUHTCN7z1w/Tpway7lDroI/AAAAAAAABbU/k3f1hPgovoc/s1600/14102011499.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EgUHTCN7z1w/Tpway7lDroI/AAAAAAAABbU/k3f1hPgovoc/s320/14102011499.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664431893614145154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(* Guest post)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bliv me wn i say i crave 4 u&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4 u make me human&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4 i take pride in my senses&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4 i think n thots r u&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;wn i wud go lower 4m low,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;u r my safest place 2 hide.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bliv me wn i say i owe u my breaths&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;s u remain in me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;wn i go blue wit fears&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;wn i lose mind 2 tears&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;wn i go numbest 4m numb&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;u r my safest place 2 hide.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bliv me wn i say i love u 4m my core&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;s u stick around&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;wn i m suicidal of isolation&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;wn i fight back my vows&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;wn m tired n wanna run&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;u r my safest place to hide.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bliv me wn i say i live 4 u&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;s u flow s my strength &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;rit beneath my skin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;u ease me at my craziest&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;n bear me at my worst wit ur best&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i wil ask n ask again to take me in, wn a storm s raging outside..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;U r my safest place to hide..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;[&lt;i&gt;NB: The text and the sketch are not related, except that they are made by the same person&lt;/i&gt;.]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://api.flickr.com/services/feeds/photos_public.gne?id=85732427@N00&amp;format=rss_200&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34990430-1053714885250408169?l=andromans.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/feeds/1053714885250408169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34990430&amp;postID=1053714885250408169' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/1053714885250408169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/1053714885250408169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/2011/10/rejuvenated-my-feet-are-happy-too.html' title='Rejuvenated: My feet are happy too!'/><author><name>M. Venkat Laxman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17231849935323163238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/80/253169038_42a39c8f60_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EgUHTCN7z1w/Tpway7lDroI/AAAAAAAABbU/k3f1hPgovoc/s72-c/14102011499.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34990430.post-4254554108652958632</id><published>2007-09-08T02:22:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-09-08T02:27:54.305+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Stream O' De Profundis</title><content type='html'>&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;¥  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It was about ten past two in the night, we finished watching the telugu movie 'Happy'. I went out onto the balcony of our flat with a glass of water in my hand. I heard somebody crying... a man's. I went inside and informed the others (Dharma and Arnab) of what I heard. We came out to enquire. I thought that some drunk pedestrian must have fallen on the road, and must be crying. In the next instant female sobbing sound followed. We got down the stairs apprehensively; Arnab with a steel rod. I tried to stop him when he was speeding toward the road. Dharma also protested, "Man! What is he doin? At this time in the night it's not wise to be out this way". However, Arnab nearly reached to the place of incident.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Our colony's road directly meets with the main road. There are some trees and a fence which blocks the sight of the road, from the colony. The sound was coming from behind the fence. We rushed toward it. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;On the ground a man in sitting posture was holding a lady in his arms. Two girls, one around the age of 14 and the other around 16, were crying and scooting without knowing what to do. I saw Arnab rubbing the lady's palm. Arnab shouted, "There's no pulse. Do something!.. Call Pratyush!.. Bring our cell phones!"&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I ran to our flat, picked up phones and went back.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We called our friend Pratyush. Pratyush is local over here. He stays at his aunt's house. She always helps us out of trouble. We all call her Mausi. She's our messiah.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In the mean time Arnab ran toward Mannu's flat. Mannu and Lokesh recently shifted to a house near our's. Arnab sprinted back on a bike. He and Dharma, then rushed for an ambulance. We do not have the number, so, it was better to get it personally. I called Pratyush for the second time. He said that nobody is receiving the phone at the hospital.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Manu came. I had no time to explain to him, what had happened. Moreover, i had known nothing other than that there was a woman lying on the road, that she had no pulse, and that she needed to be taken to the hospital as soon as possible. What exactly had happened, we still have no knowledge of it! [Edited on 7th September 2007: Later it came to my knowledge that she had 'myocardial infarction', which is commonly known as heart attack.]&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I saw one more bike approaching it turned out to be an acquaintance of Manu. He also rushed for an ambulance.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A little later an ambulance zinged past us. It was so fast that I failed to recognise and stop it. However, it came to a halt at about 150 meters from us. I asked Manu to approach the driver and get it back to where we were standing.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;They took her.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It's 3:30 a.m. Everyone is out and I’m alone at the flat waiting for the others to return, as I decided not to disturb them by calling. Night.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Yesterday, I just finished typing when they returned. Doctor pronounced her dead. She was already dead when we saw her. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Though, we had wasted no time on taking action, I feel as if I behaved selfishly. At first I was hesitating to go out and look what exactly is happening on the road. Thieves often play such counterfeiting tricks to enmesh pedestrians. Furthermore, the world is so nefarious that we have to carefully observe things first, get into its depths, and verify, before taking any action. There's deceptiveness and fraudulence everywhere.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;For example, take the last part of the movie I was watching seconds before this incident. The young actress was scurrying towards the railway station on a two-wheeler to stop her love from leaving her for ever. She hadn't expressed her love to him, and she would loose him forever if she gets late. It was raining and then, on the road a woman stops her for help. The woman tells her that her husband is in a hospital and she has to get there as soon as possible. Without any other word, this girl asks her to sit behind her and rushes towards the hospital. Midway they are stopped by the police. The woman turns out to be a prostitute. The actress is then taken into custody. Its like "do good, you'll suffer".&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The most important thing everybody should remember is that nothing called God is gonna help them when in trouble. Even if God exists, he'll never come! That is why proverbs like "God helps those who help themselves" subsist. The only people standing by you will be your friends and family members.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Miracles never happen to every Tom, Dick and Harry. You should stay away from trouble as far as possible. In case you get entangled into it, you should be smart enough to get out of it yourself. Or else embed this in your mind: "Caution, stay away!"&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We too are animals. So, we are also governed by the rules of nature. Nature wants only the strongest and the most intelligent. This is to improve quality. Every species keeps on improving itself. "Nothing but change is permanent". In the animal kingdom the weak and the unintelligent deserve to die. Eventually the smarter beings move forward. Only they enjoy the sweetness of life. Do good or bad it won't affect your future state, unless it's antisocial. Antisocial activities rarely go unnoticed. However, ipso facto, what would one loose if he/she helps somebody in distress? A few disgraceful coins? Time and energy? Ah! We have them in plenty to spare a little.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;For instant take this example. There are three people. Let them be Alias, Richy - a rich man and Richy's daughter Ravisha. Alias comes to Richy and tells him that he is suffering from a fatal disease. He asks him for monetary help. Ravisha who overheard this conversation told her father that this guy Alias is a big fraud. She asked her father not to believe Alias. Instead of her warning Richy gave him the amount Alias had asked. Later, Richy finds that Alias had lied to him and that he used that money in boozing and gambling. Ravisha on getting aware of all this, reminded her father of the warning she gave him, and that he should have believed her.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;On harking this Richy said, "Ravisha, for a person of my status, the money i lost is insignificant. I'm happy that Alias is free of any fatal diseases."&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Think of this man's generosity and well-wishing nature! If Alias had been really suffering from a disease and nobody helped him, he would have died.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So the question here is how to know who's good and who's fraud? Likewise, how to verify a situation similar to that i have faced yesterday? We generally don't get the chance to find out the truth. Sometimes it's good to help where we loose little.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Last year when I was going home on vacations, at the Kharagpur railway station, I came across a well dressed middle aged man. He asked me for money saying that it is getting difficult for him to support the lives of two; his and his daughter's.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I took out a 20 rupees note and gave it to him without asking any questions. When he asked for more, I added another 10 rupees. I know, this sounds scanty but I was helpless. If I had the intuition to know his genuineness, I would have surely furnished him with more money. We come across such people mostly at railway stations and bus stops. Recent movies like Traffic Signal have ostensively flashed light on such spurious and wily activities. After departing from me, that man might have straight away headed towards a bar! Who knows!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I had already heard of similar occurrences. At the railway station a man approached my uncle and told him that his luggage and money has been stolen and he has left with nothing to travel and eat. Uncle gave him some money. A few days later uncle was flabbergasted on seeing the same man extracting money from others using the same tactic. Uncle unable to stop his emotions bawled out at him. He ran away!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Keeping in mind such agitating incidents, we sometimes end up showing cruelty to people who really suffer with problems. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Remember, for the sake of few phony people we can't pull away our helping hands. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The helpful nature of 'public' is visible mostly at railway stations and on roads. I remember an incident. Few years ago, my mom and aunt were going to some place on foot. On the road my mom was accidentally struck by a bull and she lost consciousness. A group of people rushed for help. They did everything they could, to bring her back to consciousness.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In this case it was evening and people saw it happening. So no question of duplicity and guile. On the contrary, incidents such as the one I witnessed yesterday could be treacherous. The veraciousness of such incidents can be perceived only on reaching the site of incident. Upon conforming that the situation is safe to poke into, I wouldn't have deserted the woman. However, some situations require firm decisions and quick action.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Different people behave differently in such situations. This is because of their behavioral patterns. Some people get excited even at petty matters. Some are full of emotions. Some get agitated. While, some get disappointed very soon. Yet some other feel low all the time. The thing is that people should learn how exactly to behave in different situations. In an emergency getting hurry-scurry can cause negative effects. For example emergencies compel people to ride bikes at exceeding speeds. Drive only to that limit till which you can handle it. You exceed, instead of helping you may need help. I must be sounding phlegmatic but this is the datum.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My inner self curses me when I don't hear it. I feel I sometimes behave selfishly. I lack self confidence. I'm pusillanimous. I think a lot before doing anything, which sometimes causes adverse effects. I should learn to take quick actions. It's only because of guys like Arnab that people in trouble get help. Diffident people like me would probably demolish the word 'help'.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We are the supreme creatures on this planet. So, we should be helpful not only to human being, but to animals as well. Their lack of speech doesn't show that they don't have emotions. Most of the animals have short term memories. They forget soon, but some remember for long. Legends say that elephants never forget their dead. Now science has backed it up. Elephants, like humans, attach great importance to the dead, feeling moved to touch them with their trunks and feet, and often revisiting carcasses. Even if they find an elephant that is long dead, one where the bones are scattered, they get tense and roiled.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Birds, beavers, gibbons, marmosets are said to mate for life. After loosing its spouse an eagle stops mating for three year! Black Vulture and the Gray Wolf are some of the other animals which mate for life. However, infidelity always exists and so many males wind up raising other males' babies! "Mommy's babies, Daddy's maybes"!!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I should stop getting into the details. It's getting non sequitur. I would probably write another blog on monogamy and promiscuity, sometime. ;)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Apart from animals, man is more social and more emotional. He would never forget a relationship... and that is the reason why guys remember their old girl friends after getting drunk :D&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Yesterday, it was not the woman we were helping; we were helping those young girls and the man, their sorrow, their grief. Parting with the loved ones is a sorrow that can't be &lt;explained&gt;. The world becomes an impassive hell.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;One should possess moral and virtuous qualities like helping nature, kindness etc. Not because it's always tough to us, "do good and good will come back". Never expect this to happen. We should be helpful because we are social animals and because we can distinguish ‘good’ from ‘bad’. When the feeling "I should not do this" arises, stop proceeding. Conscientiousness is very important. Being good and doing good, makes one feel better. Good should be done for reasons indefinable. There are million things which can't be explained or which are out of our intuition. Paranormal elements exist. Think of it and you will feel insignificant.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¥&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The world is full of evil. Both evil and good should coexist in order to keep balance. So we need to escalate helping hands to equalize it with the prevailing deceitfulness.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://api.flickr.com/services/feeds/photos_public.gne?id=85732427@N00&amp;format=rss_200&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34990430-4254554108652958632?l=andromans.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/feeds/4254554108652958632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34990430&amp;postID=4254554108652958632' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/4254554108652958632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/4254554108652958632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/2007/09/stream-o-de-profundis.html' title='Stream O&apos; De Profundis'/><author><name>M. Venkat Laxman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17231849935323163238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/80/253169038_42a39c8f60_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34990430.post-660031214996869654</id><published>2007-08-29T20:17:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-09-08T02:42:14.591+05:30</updated><title type='text'>ambrosia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ5n0Yu4qI/AAAAAAAAA3U/R5OTGMhrhw4/s1600-h/Snap798.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104400952655274658" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ5n0Yu4qI/AAAAAAAAA3U/R5OTGMhrhw4/s200/Snap798.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Our &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dabbawala&lt;/span&gt; took leave for a month. So, he surprised us by &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;idlis&lt;/span&gt; embedded with fried potatoes!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;This reminded me the nocturnal 'night-canteen' of boys’ hostel which stays open throughout the night and servers some of the weirdest foods on the planet!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a list of some of them:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Poach Poha&lt;/span&gt; (My favorite; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Poha&lt;/span&gt; is a staple food of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Maharastra&lt;/span&gt;. So, this cuisine served with a Poached egg on it!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&gt; Hybrid &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Poha&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Poha&lt;/span&gt; spiced with eggs and a poached egg on it)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Anda Poha&lt;/span&gt;(&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Poha&lt;/span&gt; with eggs)&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ8E0Yu4sI/AAAAAAAAA38/181utSCPjaI/s1600-h/Plate_blogup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104403649894736578" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ8E0Yu4sI/AAAAAAAAA38/181utSCPjaI/s200/Plate_blogup.jpg" border="0" height="199" width="169" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Tushar Pao&lt;/span&gt; (a super senior named Tushar, once suggested the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;canteenwala&lt;/span&gt; to use &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;malaai&lt;/span&gt; and potatoes with bun; the canteenwala named it Tushar pao!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Anda Dhosa&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(dhosa&lt;/span&gt; served with an omelet on it!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Anda Parantha&lt;/span&gt; (a cousin of egg roll)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;-&gt;Anda Uttapam (similar to Anda Parantha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Some of the above mentioned cuisines are also available at the Tapirs (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;jhopri&lt;/span&gt; motels!) outside the campus premises. They are the favourite haunts of hostelers for smoking and eyeing girls heading towards college.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Babla, Anil bhav and Santosh are the famous ones. They are so popular that their fans have created communities at Orkut&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These weird foods are the products of hungry and crazy hostelers, who, out of their monotonousness gave birth to such aptitudes. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the papers we often used to visit the night canteen. It is said that engineering students study only before examination. It's like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"dine ghum ratay jaga.. kukurrer moton owostha"&lt;/span&gt;. This means sleeping during the day and staying awake during the night. .. personifying a dog!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ5zkYu4rI/AAAAAAAAA3c/Qlmexqe92mM/s1600-h/Catch%28008%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104401154518737586" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 253px; height: 197px;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ5zkYu4rI/AAAAAAAAA3c/Qlmexqe92mM/s200/Catch%2528008%2529.jpg" border="0" height="170" width="226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ5zkYu4rI/AAAAAAAAA3c/Qlmexqe92mM/s1600-h/Catch%28008%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ5zkYu4rI/AAAAAAAAA3c/Qlmexqe92mM/s1600-h/Catch%28008%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ5zkYu4rI/AAAAAAAAA3c/Qlmexqe92mM/s1600-h/Catch%28008%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ5zkYu4rI/AAAAAAAAA3c/Qlmexqe92mM/s1600-h/Catch%28008%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ5zkYu4rI/AAAAAAAAA3c/Qlmexqe92mM/s1600-h/Catch%28008%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ5zkYu4rI/AAAAAAAAA3c/Qlmexqe92mM/s1600-h/Catch%28008%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ5zkYu4rI/AAAAAAAAA3c/Qlmexqe92mM/s1600-h/Catch%28008%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ5zkYu4rI/AAAAAAAAA3c/Qlmexqe92mM/s1600-h/Catch%28008%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ5zkYu4rI/AAAAAAAAA3c/Qlmexqe92mM/s1600-h/Catch%28008%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ5zkYu4rI/AAAAAAAAA3c/Qlmexqe92mM/s1600-h/Catch%28008%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ5zkYu4rI/AAAAAAAAA3c/Qlmexqe92mM/s1600-h/Catch%28008%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In the absence of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dabbawala&lt;/span&gt; we crowned ourselves as cooks! [Here, 'we' portends me and Dharma. Arnab's outta station and the jumping-ass Srikant rarely gets home.] Our gas cylinder has gone empty and so we are using a electric heater abandoned by a senior. On the first day Dharma made ‘&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chicken Masala&lt;/span&gt;’. The other day he decided to prepare &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Kichari&lt;/span&gt;. The heater was old and so its coil broke again and again due to over heating. However, Dharma lost no hope. He kept on fastening it, every time it broke. Maybe a 20 times! Hats off to his patience and to his &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'Birbal ka khichari'&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ8E0Yu4sI/AAAAAAAAA38/181utSCPjaI/s1600-h/Plate_blogup.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ8E0Yu4sI/AAAAAAAAA38/181utSCPjaI/s1600-h/Plate_blogup.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ8E0Yu4sI/AAAAAAAAA38/181utSCPjaI/s1600-h/Plate_blogup.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;For the next few days we ordered food from a nearby restaurant but cleaved to soups and noodles which are less cumbersome to prepare. When the heater showed no signs of life, we boiled Top Raman using immersion heater!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dharma is a master cook. So, i kept myself away from the stove. I did the other works like cutting the vegetables and washing the dishes. Last winter we purchased a pack of three cheap dish-washing bars which are exasperatingly wear proof! A single bar witnessed a whole year! I love effacing its existence. In the course of its usage, a hole has developed into it. This is how the abraded soap looks like!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104404934089958098" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ9PkYu4tI/AAAAAAAAA4M/amhagZ3Jho4/s200/Snap809.jpg" border="0" height="206" width="279" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Our new &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dabbawala&lt;/span&gt; is a lively guy. He says, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Bhaiya aaj kheer aur pulao laya hoon. Garam-garam hai, kha lijiyega. Maza aajayega!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://api.flickr.com/services/feeds/photos_public.gne?id=85732427@N00&amp;format=rss_200&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34990430-660031214996869654?l=andromans.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/feeds/660031214996869654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34990430&amp;postID=660031214996869654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/660031214996869654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/660031214996869654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/2007/08/ambrosia.html' title='ambrosia'/><author><name>M. Venkat Laxman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17231849935323163238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/80/253169038_42a39c8f60_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtZ5n0Yu4qI/AAAAAAAAA3U/R5OTGMhrhw4/s72-c/Snap798.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34990430.post-3895197416723073780</id><published>2007-08-29T19:38:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-12-10T00:13:13.132+05:30</updated><title type='text'>the womEn i love..</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Here, I came up with two of the most significant physiognomies of a woman. I have not included the others for reasons indefinable. No comments please!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It is said that to love someone one need not necessary have reasons.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtWACkYu4jI/AAAAAAAAA2I/sjrtQkUqmdI/s1600-h/Janee_blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104126534309831218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtWACkYu4jI/AAAAAAAAA2I/sjrtQkUqmdI/s200/Janee_blog.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;..in love with Jenee&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The ass which keeps the world jiggling..&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtWAcUYu4kI/AAAAAAAAA2Q/wHijs6K6tgI/s1600-h/Ass_blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104126976691462722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 163px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 255px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtWAcUYu4kI/AAAAAAAAA2Q/wHijs6K6tgI/s200/Ass_blog.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My hips don't lie!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://api.flickr.com/services/feeds/photos_public.gne?id=85732427@N00&amp;format=rss_200&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34990430-3895197416723073780?l=andromans.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/feeds/3895197416723073780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34990430&amp;postID=3895197416723073780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/3895197416723073780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/3895197416723073780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/2007/08/women-i-love.html' title='the womEn i love..'/><author><name>M. Venkat Laxman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17231849935323163238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/80/253169038_42a39c8f60_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RtWACkYu4jI/AAAAAAAAA2I/sjrtQkUqmdI/s72-c/Janee_blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34990430.post-3800970161150986289</id><published>2007-08-21T15:36:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-09-08T02:52:18.633+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Cellphone or Bombshell ?!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;There's a big hullabaloo all over about the Nokia-branded BL-5C batteries. My phone is also powered with the same battery model. It is now figured out that there are about 300 million BL-5C batteries in use. Out of which, about 46 million batteries manufactured by Matsushita Battery Industrial Co. Ltd. of &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Japan&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; between December 2005 and November 2006 are alleged as defective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I checked out mine with the Nokia website by entering the 26-character identification number from the back of the battery. It got like scrutinizing university/board results. My heart pumped faster as the page went on loading. At last the page opened and the message "Your battery may be replaced" was displayed. I was disappointed a bit. However, the thought of being a part of the 46 million, allured me. The use of 'may' raises thousand questions. Maybe 'may' is used to show that the battery which comes out at a price of about 750 bucks is an ex gratia from Nokia!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, after verifying mine, I checked out my friends'; a dozen more. None of them were defective. Unlike me, they were unlucky. Or perhaps Nokia is pleased with me. After all I’m a big fan of its products. I'm the lucky charm!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nokia is the largest manufacture of cell phones in the world with a wide range of models. Credulous people are flooding Nokia service and sale centers with different queries. People are apprising that it's like carrying a pinned out hand grenade in ones pocket! Even the media is exaggerating this issue. However, the company isn't using words like explode, blast or the like. "Dislodge" is the word they are comfortable with!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though, only 100 incidents approximately have occurred, that too only while charging the phone, it's always wise to take precautions. I used to keep my phone in the left front pocket of my trouser. Now, i started to keep it in the back pocket! After all I don't wanna loose my procreativeness. Ma ham would definitely endure such exertions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family members asked me to purchase a new battery or else to keep the phone switched off all the time! Whereas my friends suggested me to keep it in the kitchen or toilet while charging! They scream on me, "stay away you unpredictable chancy bomb"!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These days I’m charging the phone only during the night. Nowadays it's missing out on the warmth of my pillow. I keep it in a corner of the room!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The company wants its lucrative genius back. The website carried this message: "To ensure proper disposal, all recipients of a replacement battery hereby agree to return the old battery in the envelope provided".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surely boss. Who would like to ramble with a erratic 'bomblet' in their pockets!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't stay away from my phone. It's a part of my life. It's a amalgam of essential elements. Things ranging from photography to music, and games to internet; it has everything. I've about 90 softwares installed in it! Even this blog's also written using the same phone. I named it Doppelganger; and the memory card as "Mnemosyne", the Greek goddess of memory. No, i haven't named the battery yet! Hmmm.. how's Bombshell?!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://api.flickr.com/services/feeds/photos_public.gne?id=85732427@N00&amp;format=rss_200&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34990430-3800970161150986289?l=andromans.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/feeds/3800970161150986289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34990430&amp;postID=3800970161150986289' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/3800970161150986289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/3800970161150986289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/2007/08/cellphone-or-bombshell.html' title='Cellphone or Bombshell ?!!'/><author><name>M. Venkat Laxman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17231849935323163238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/80/253169038_42a39c8f60_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34990430.post-5355055046183426451</id><published>2007-08-19T17:11:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-08-19T18:42:56.412+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Independence Day</title><content type='html'>I&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;ndia is celebrating its 60th independence day today. When I was in school it was compulsory for every student to attend the parade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;But here at college I have attained the flag hosting ceremony for the first time in my college life. On the previous day I laughed on hearing about it. The first question on ma mind was that if there would be any such celebrations.. because I never heard of it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;All the lecturers, professor, lab assistants and the administrative staff were present. Students? Ah, a handful! That too only the members of NSS (National Service Scheme). They were present only to grab the one percentage marks, the university is gonna award for all such activities. I'm also a member of NSS but I am not concerned about the marks. I went to see what actually happens at the collage on this day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://api.flickr.com/services/feeds/photos_public.gne?id=85732427@N00&amp;format=rss_200&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34990430-5355055046183426451?l=andromans.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/feeds/5355055046183426451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34990430&amp;postID=5355055046183426451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/5355055046183426451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/5355055046183426451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/2007/08/independence-day.html' title='Independence Day'/><author><name>M. Venkat Laxman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17231849935323163238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/80/253169038_42a39c8f60_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34990430.post-2192972494656011468</id><published>2007-08-14T04:47:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-08-14T05:32:15.390+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Happy Friendship Day!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RsDsVacG-PI/AAAAAAAAAfY/g5BYFh0_F2c/s1600-h/Gangulpara+%28281%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RsDsVacG-PI/AAAAAAAAAfY/g5BYFh0_F2c/s200/Gangulpara+%28281%29.jpg" style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 187px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RsDsVacG-PI/AAAAAAAAAfY/g5BYFh0_F2c/s200/Gangulpara+%28281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098334630802028786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 past 12 midnight. 05/08/2007. Parita calls up to wish friendship day. I told her that i haven't even wished my roommates!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just before the call, our ninnies at the girls-hostel were celebrating the eve by cutting cakes and tying friendship bands. Around the same time about 200 meters away three young men were having port wine and cashew nuts! That's how men celebrate..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://api.flickr.com/services/feeds/photos_public.gne?id=85732427@N00&amp;format=rss_200&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34990430-2192972494656011468?l=andromans.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/feeds/2192972494656011468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34990430&amp;postID=2192972494656011468' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/2192972494656011468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/2192972494656011468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/2007/08/10-past-12-midnight.html' title='Happy Friendship Day!!'/><author><name>M. Venkat Laxman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17231849935323163238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/80/253169038_42a39c8f60_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RsDsVacG-PI/AAAAAAAAAfY/g5BYFh0_F2c/s72-c/Gangulpara+%28281%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34990430.post-3563680210771445123</id><published>2007-08-01T06:17:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-08-01T09:40:18.263+05:30</updated><title type='text'>What's goin on?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Note: This is a cc of a scrap I wrote to a friend whe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;n she asked me of the latest happenings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's happening?" That's an eerie question! These days everything seems to be happening&lt;br /&gt;to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;and because of me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/Rq_uuacG7TI/AAAAAAAAAB0/12kmZ48Ub0w/s1600-h/DSC00548.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/Rq_uuacG7TI/AAAAAAAAAB0/12kmZ48Ub0w/s200/DSC00548.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093552184717929778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the list..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;One&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have told you about the marriage ceremony, right? My friend's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; brother's at Bangalore? What happened is; till that incident, we, all our group members, were good guys: decorous kids&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;. Then it so happened &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;thaaat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;, this guy's family members and all the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;baraaties&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; figured out of our evil activities: smoking, boozing and the like. Though, some of our group members don't smoke and drink, still it matters a lot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing is that my friend's father arranged for the drinks at the Secandrabad station. Boozing in the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;train?! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Yes, we were &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;tippling in the train!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, at the reception, back home, the groom ordered half a bar of drinks as a votive offering! We were pleased. Some of us toped and spoiled the party ambiance!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Two&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends, the bride and the groom asked me to throw a party. Why? "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;Yaar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;, you have become AC". What is AC? AC &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;bole&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;toh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; ‘all clear’. I have cleared all my papers. Sounds funny &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;nah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;? Party; not for distinction, not even for scoring good percentage.. only for clearing all the subjects! "Of course! There should to be a festivity. After all I have cleared all my papers at one go! I did so for the first time after entering into engineering!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RrAG6acG7UI/AAAAAAAAAB8/RjStdoeWapI/s1600-h/18072007%28007%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/RrAG6acG7UI/AAAAAAAAAB8/RjStdoeWapI/s200/18072007%28007%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093578779155426626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Three&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week while traveling back from Balaghat by train I made eyes at a girl. It was like love at first sight. She saw me and I saw her. In fact the word saw doesn't fit here. We 'noticed' each other. The game began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Our eyes met. And the circuit was just completed. Now their sole purpose was to see one another. Oh my God! They had the depths of the cosmos. They were the oceans where my beautiful mind roved like an incessant ship. Geniuses say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. However her beauty was in her own eyes. They were the windows to her eternal beauty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was not a dream, but factual. Our train arrived to its last stoppage which is also the place where I was to get down. Incidentally, she was also to get down at the same place, which of course I knew, as she didn't get down even at second last station. This bestowed me with an opportune moment. When the train stopped, all the travelers started to get off. I was sitting confused, thinking of my next move. Still i was not sure, what's on her mind. I looked one more time. Our eyes met again. This time giving a message.  I decided to look forward. I took my pen out and wrote my mobile number on a piece of paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was the last passenger to get down from the coach, she being the second last. It was evening and everybody on the platform was moving toward the exit. I was looking for the right moment; the correct instance when I would give her my number. In the next moment I found myself following her. Girls do have sixth sens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;e. They can figure out who's glancing at them and who's keeping an eye. She moved onto the foot-over bridge. After making it to the middle of the stairway, she turned to see if I was still following her. I was unable to read her expressions; whether she thought me a enthusiast or a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt; tapori&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;. I followed her to the length of the bridge. My heart was pounding. I strode to her side. She looked toward me. I asked her if she can give me 2 minutes. I was reading her expressions. She gave a dreaded look strained with trepidation and said "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;na baba!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard about a similar incident where the girl gives the boy a mirror before making her way out. Hope it wasn't the case here. Outlandishness and apprehensiveness may be the reason. Whatever it may be, this is only a part of the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Let me tell you the aftermath of this event. Event? No, catastrophe! Anyway, her eyes were so effulgent that they dazzled me. They must have radiated rays of free electrons, over charging me.. 'cuz that whole day i was groping with a glowing bulb in each eye!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On 25th we were celebrating my roommate cum friend's b'day.. and I bore the brunt of his birthday bumps! They drubbed the hell out of my ass!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day before yesterday our college took us on a small tour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I always consider girls as ninnies. Most of them at least. They are only and only good at caring, organizing, minding and managing, where men fail. Men and women are complements to each other. Nature made them that way. Even if I deem that 'Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus',  there should be always a limit to their bird-brained innovative innocence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/Rq_q3acG7SI/AAAAAAAAABs/eIpbJV3gKK4/s1600-h/Snap645.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 248px; height: 186px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/Rq_q3acG7SI/AAAAAAAAABs/eIpbJV3gKK4/s320/Snap645.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093547941290241314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;At the lake we were skipping stones and one of my friends, a gal, asked me "Where have you learned this from.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;God!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; If I had a gun! Shoot &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;? No, I would have shot myself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, those rascals made me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;carry the cooking utensils; and while on the last leg of our trip, our bus was restrained by a group of paramilitary personnel. They averted our further journey, fearing naxalites' coercions. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;Bus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;aur kya, aadha raasta se he waapas aana pada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Six&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a movie week. College ain’t happening. Movies replaced college. I saw Partner, Traffic signal, Pirates Of The Caribbean 3, American Pie 1, 2 &amp; 3, Déjà Vu. We (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;bole toh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; me and my roommates) also saw Telugu movies named Aarya, Boys and Pokiri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seven&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night our &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;dabbawala&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; didn't come. We went out for dinner. At the restaurant my friend amused me, and I laughed. He asked me to give him a five. My right hand was busy shoving butter &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;roties&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;. I forwarded my left hand. He said "I asked you for a five, not for a six".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This isn't funny? Ah! That wasn't a joke either!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little later a man with his beautiful wife and two cute kids got in. My friend hissed that, once this man, in a drunken state, told him that he often visit brothels. As soon as I heard this I found him phlegmatic. That's really a hideous work! At least he should show little decency by not announcing it all over. Such guys deserve to be striped naked in the public!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our university results are out this morning. I'm glad to hear that my roll number is there in the morning news paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;Poha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; and 'am now scraping you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even this wasn't interesting? Eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still there are loads of other things to tell you. Like.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;Oof!! Meri kamarr!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://api.flickr.com/services/feeds/photos_public.gne?id=85732427@N00&amp;format=rss_200&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34990430-3563680210771445123?l=andromans.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/feeds/3563680210771445123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34990430&amp;postID=3563680210771445123' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/3563680210771445123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/3563680210771445123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/2007/08/whats-goin-on.html' title='What&apos;s goin on?'/><author><name>M. Venkat Laxman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17231849935323163238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/80/253169038_42a39c8f60_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w_nHHkAhRiE/Rq_uuacG7TI/AAAAAAAAAB0/12kmZ48Ub0w/s72-c/DSC00548.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34990430.post-1369861568476228245</id><published>2007-07-01T14:27:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-01T14:32:46.815+05:30</updated><title type='text'>My Inamorata</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;                &lt;/span&gt;We were on a picnic. Way home, we had to cross Sawarnarekha. I saw the other buddies crossing a shallow offshoot. In an obfuscated state, i took the other option; i thought that's an easy route, climbing a sand dune and then swimming a narrow but deep channel. Heavens! I know no swimming!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;                  &lt;/span&gt;I climbed on to the dune and was startled to see what lay next. It was a scene i'll never forget. I saw my inamorata. She was enjoying a bath surrounded by a number of women companions. The scene reminded me of movies featuring princesses being consorted by a number of maids. I got to see Her bare back. The blond skin dazzled me for a moment. I made sure not to fall in her line of sight. I moved into the water. It wasn't deep. But as i proceeded the depth increased. Even now, i am surprised about my surprised state of getting drowned. I know not whether the pearly gate was getting opened or the hell's bells were ringing, but at my last hours i saw Her nigh to me. Her green eyes lured me like a Naiad. It seemed to me as if She's playing with me, like that cat which plays with a mouse before brutally making it its meal.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;                 &lt;/span&gt;My eyes started to close; I felt the ethereal life-giving kiss. A kiss that was greater than life. I rose with life like a Snowbell. I opened my eyes only to see Her face reversed above me. She turned the death bed into the sand bed of Sawarnarekha.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;                Sweetheart, I will be living the rest of my life with just this sweet phantasmagoria!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://api.flickr.com/services/feeds/photos_public.gne?id=85732427@N00&amp;format=rss_200&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34990430-1369861568476228245?l=andromans.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/feeds/1369861568476228245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34990430&amp;postID=1369861568476228245' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/1369861568476228245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/1369861568476228245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-inamorata.html' title='My Inamorata'/><author><name>M. Venkat Laxman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17231849935323163238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/80/253169038_42a39c8f60_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34990430.post-115945146649518813</id><published>2006-09-29T18:36:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-08-14T07:22:15.886+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Men Are Like Rubber Bands, Women Are Like Waves</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4336/3884/1600/images.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4336/3884/320/images.0.jpg" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4336/3884/320/images.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            John Gray in his Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus explains how Men and women are very different from one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gray suggests that a man should hug his wife four times a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surely sir. But first ask the deodorant and perfume companies to make their products cheaper and more effective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To feel better Martians go to their 'caves' to solve problems alone. On the other side to feel better Venusians get together and openly talk about their problems. When a man is stressed he will withdraw into the cave of his mind and focus on solving a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this situation a women is not supposed to enter his cave. The cave man even practiced Cannibalism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women talk about problems to get close and not necessarily to get solutions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange! !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In such situations a man is not supposed to provide solutions. Instead he had to listen just like a dumb ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have another case. 'Men Are Like Rubber Bands'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The writer explains that when a man loves a woman, periodically he needs to pull away before he can get closer. So when they pull away, they can stretch only so far before they come springing back. This cycle involves getting close, pulling away, and them getting close again. So a women should allow a man to expand fully. She should not try to prevent this pulling away.&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4336/3884/1600/latt.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4336/3884/320/latt.0.jpg" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4336/3884/320/latt.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Similarly women Are Like Waves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When a woman is feeling really good, she will reach a peak, but then suddenly her mood may change and her waves crashes down. After reaching the bottom suddenly her mood will shift and she will again feel good about herself. Automatically her wave begins to rise back. When a woman's wave rises she feels she has an abundance of love to give, but when it falls she feels her inner emptiness and needs to be filled up with love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this juncture telling a woman she shouldn't feel hurt is about the worst thing a man can say!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, in relationships, men pull back and then get close, while women rise and fall in their ability to love themselves and others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, we have a very serious situation. When a wife is in her well and at the same time her Mr. Hubby is in his cave! So what happens when the wave and the rubber band occur around the same time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interference!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything depends on the extent to which the wave and the rubber band are in phase with respect to each other. If they are exactly in phase, they will add up alone. If they are exactly out of phase, they will cancel everywhere, producing no disturbance at all. Here, we are witnessing a fully constructive (destructive in real sense!) interference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gray explains 'A man's deepest fear is that he is not good enough or that he is incompetent'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why doesn't Gray right away recounts that a man always thinks that he has got a small stubborn stuff with which he is unable to satisfy her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Martian and Venusians languages had the same words, but the way they were used gave different meanings. To fully express their feelings, women assume poetic license to use various superlatives, metaphors, and generalizations. Like…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4336/3884/1600/gagg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4336/3884/320/gagg.jpg" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 187px; height: 217px;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4336/3884/320/gagg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women: 'We never go out'&lt;br /&gt;Men: 'That's not true. We went out last week'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women: 'Everyone ignores me'&lt;br /&gt;Men: 'I'm sure some people notice you'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women: 'No one listens to me anymore'&lt;br /&gt;Men: 'But I am listening to you right now'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupid Martians. They must not have read Shakespeare's plays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men pride themselves on being experts, especially when it comes to fixing mechanical things, getting places, or solving problems. But what about doing a honors in English. For Martians, honors in English should be made compulsory so that they can understand the Shakespearean strained Venusians language.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'It is very difficult for a man to differentiate between empathy and sympathy. He hates to be pitied'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm… sounds interesting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladies read carefully! The secret of empowering a man is never to try to change him or improve him. The four magic words to support a man are 'It's not your fault'. When a women is expressing her upset feelings she can support a man by pausing occasionally to encourage him by saying 'I really appreciate your listening and if this sounds as he I'm saying it's your fault, that's not what I mean. It's not your fault'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just see the change. He'll linger around you waving his tail like a tamed dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many differences between men and women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4336/3884/1600/gal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4336/3884/320/gal.jpg" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 165px; height: 188px;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4336/3884/320/gal.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men argue for the right to be free while women argue for the right to be upset. Men want space while women want understanding. She needs caring and he needs trust. She needs understanding and he needs acceptance. She needs respect and he needs appreciation. She needs devotion and he needs admiration. She needs validation and he needs approval. She needs reassurance and he needs encouragement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If these guys have so many differences then why don't they just leave? And go back to their respective planets? At least the animals will live in peace. They can't. If they do so who will buy John Gray's 'Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus'? Of course bloggers like me who copy great writers and in return castigate their work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://api.flickr.com/services/feeds/photos_public.gne?id=85732427@N00&amp;format=rss_200&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34990430-115945146649518813?l=andromans.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/feeds/115945146649518813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34990430&amp;postID=115945146649518813' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/115945146649518813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/115945146649518813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/2006/09/men-are-like-rubber-bands-women-are_29.html' title='Men Are Like Rubber Bands, Women Are Like Waves'/><author><name>M. Venkat Laxman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17231849935323163238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/80/253169038_42a39c8f60_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34990430.post-115944603267886055</id><published>2006-09-28T17:45:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-09-28T17:54:01.173+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Thought Generator</title><content type='html'>Sitting by the window is my favorite pastime while traveling by train. The platform is a place where I find people, people from different races, castes, religions &amp; status. Everyone carries thoughts (luggage too, of course). They have different purposes. Some travel. Some sell. Some bid farewell to their friends and relatives. Some beg. Some have jobs. Most of them look busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see the world through my eyes. For me only those things happen which take place in my sphere of knowledge. In my presence. Or which I see in the television or which I hear. For me all other incidents never happen. As long as I’m alive, the world is for me. For my sake. With my death, my world will die. I won't be able to hear. I won't be able to speak. I won't be able to think. I won't be able to feel. For me everything, the whole world, will die. (Or maybe I’ll talk, hear, speak, think and feel. But I’m sure that people of this world will definitely not 'feel' me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the same way every person has his own world. His people. His property. His thoughts. So every person is a world in himself. But everybody's world differs from one another's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A person on a platform, whom I get to see only for an instant, has his own world. I wonder what his world is like?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If i stop a villager to tell him that white light consists of all the possible colors which in turn are due to the different wavelengths. What will be his reaction? He may just take a scary and puzzled look at me and leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if I stop a young man who walks like 'Mithun &lt;em&gt;da&lt;/em&gt;' chewing &lt;em&gt;'paan’&lt;/em&gt; or ‘&lt;em&gt;gutka'&lt;/em&gt; having a hair cut like Sunjay Dutt in his older movies. And if I tell him that Light travels with a speed of 3 * 10^5 km/sec. Proxima Centauri is the nearest star to our earth other than the Sun. It takes 4 long years for the light to reach our planet. I don't know if anything will enter his '&lt;em&gt;bheja&lt;/em&gt;'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many people know that our Earth is a planet revolving a star known as Sun which is among the billion and billion other stars making a galaxy known as the Milky Way. Our galaxy is a member of the Local Cluster of galaxies, which includes the Andromeda galaxy and several closer dwarf galaxies, such as the Large Magellanic Cloud. The Local Cluster is one of about 100 clusters that form the Local Supercluster of galaxies. The Local Supercluster and the supercluster consisting of the clusters Hydra and Centaurus are all moving toward an exceptionally massive region called the Great Attractor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even some educated people have no knowledge of such facts. Why? They must have never known what exactly they studied. They are literate, not learned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strangly (sadly at the same time) I find many guys, studying with me who are concerned with their own world. They don't have the thirst for knowledge. They never think of anything other than themselves, Orkut and the world they see around - like a frog in a well which thinks that there is nothing other than the well - &lt;i&gt;kupamandukam&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucky me to have roommate like &lt;a href="http://bronzmash.blogspot.com"&gt;Bronz&lt;/a&gt; with whom I share my knowledge and ideas..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inevitably, I'm sure that their must be people who on seeing me, would think "does this black &amp;amp; short prick know that there is something known as Relativity?”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://api.flickr.com/services/feeds/photos_public.gne?id=85732427@N00&amp;format=rss_200&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34990430-115944603267886055?l=andromans.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/feeds/115944603267886055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34990430&amp;postID=115944603267886055' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/115944603267886055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/115944603267886055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/2006/09/thought-generator.html' title='Thought Generator'/><author><name>M. Venkat Laxman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17231849935323163238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/80/253169038_42a39c8f60_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34990430.post-115927576199576971</id><published>2006-09-26T18:25:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-08-01T06:49:04.503+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='war'/><title type='text'>Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;World is like a battle between life and time. The army of people moves on and on, many of the soldiers die but their fellow mates march forward. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;              Same way friends &amp;amp; relatives, our own people, very near and dear, leave us one by one. But we march forward fighting with time. But the endless army of time never bows before you. You will never see victory. You leave your successors behind to fight the way you did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;              The fight goes on and on and on..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://api.flickr.com/services/feeds/photos_public.gne?id=85732427@N00&amp;format=rss_200&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34990430-115927576199576971?l=andromans.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/feeds/115927576199576971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34990430&amp;postID=115927576199576971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/115927576199576971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/115927576199576971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/2006/09/time.html' title='Time'/><author><name>M. Venkat Laxman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17231849935323163238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/80/253169038_42a39c8f60_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34990430.post-115919322593826942</id><published>2006-09-25T19:35:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-10-27T04:43:01.440+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Just Blasting!!</title><content type='html'>There is a sloka in Sanskrit i read when I was in +2. It says that character of a person is somewhat like water. When we boil water, the temperature increases but after a certain time the hot water again cools down to room temperature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the same way people change their behavior immediately after getting hurt. They take so many resolutions. But as soon as they get over with it, they resume their old style of living. I think learning from our past is a very difficult process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But people learn. It may not necessarily the exact amount what 'they should' but a little less then that. In the case of boiling water it is very true that if left undisturbed hot water cools down to room temperature. But the salt dissolved in it breaks down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hardness in water is caused due to the presence of soluble salts like bi-carbonates, chlorides and sulphates of calcium and magnesium.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On boiling water we have the following reactions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ca (HCO3)2 - CaCO3+ H2O + CO2­&lt;br /&gt;Mg (HCO3)2 - MgCO3 + H2O + CO2­&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ca and Mg carbonates can be removed simply by filtration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it is not the same water. It has gone through some chemical changes. The salts dissolved in it are removed. The hardness vanishes. So people also change. They change their behaviors. They learn. I have learnt too. But as I said earlier not the exact amount what I should but lesser than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here one thing I forgot to mention that the hardness of water is of two types! Temporary hardness and permanent hardness. Temporary hardness can be removed easily by boiling when bi-carbonates are decomposed to insoluble carbonates as we have seen earlier. But permanent hardness, which is due to the presence of chlorides and sulphates of calcium and magnesium, cannot be removed by boiling. Here we have a reason. Some of the characters of a person can be changed, not all. Character of a person largely depends upon his genes. He acquires some characters from the locality he lives at, some from the society and some from the people with whom he spends most of his time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have different methods of treating water, like sedimentation, coagulation, filtration, sterilization etc. But unfortunately we don’t have similar solutions for changing/improving/or getting rid the characters of a man. The total change of self is impossible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I conclude by saying that I was, I am, and I’ll remain a nut:-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://api.flickr.com/services/feeds/photos_public.gne?id=85732427@N00&amp;format=rss_200&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34990430-115919322593826942?l=andromans.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/feeds/115919322593826942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34990430&amp;postID=115919322593826942' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/115919322593826942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34990430/posts/default/115919322593826942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andromans.blogspot.com/2006/09/just-blasting.html' title='Just Blasting!!'/><author><name>M. Venkat Laxman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17231849935323163238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/80/253169038_42a39c8f60_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
