<?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-32343423</id><updated>2011-10-31T20:20:54.700+05:30</updated><title type='text'>My side of the fence</title><subtitle type='html'>The only place where there is total chaos</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>37</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-3134438188015776022</id><published>2011-07-23T23:38:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2011-07-23T23:41:35.873+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Why men shouldn't write advice columns</title><content type='html'>A friend of mine showed me this and I couldn't resist putting it on every page I own :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s6oAdwN07TY/TisOjOlXukI/AAAAAAAAMao/vzpbJrBi3I4/s1600/why_men_shouldnt_write_advice_columns_Why_men_dont_give_advice-s800x563-35399%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s6oAdwN07TY/TisOjOlXukI/AAAAAAAAMao/vzpbJrBi3I4/s320/why_men_shouldnt_write_advice_columns_Why_men_dont_give_advice-s800x563-35399%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632611757329988162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-3134438188015776022?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/3134438188015776022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=3134438188015776022' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/3134438188015776022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/3134438188015776022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2011/07/why-men-shouldnt-write-advice-columns.html' title='Why men shouldn&apos;t write advice columns'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s6oAdwN07TY/TisOjOlXukI/AAAAAAAAMao/vzpbJrBi3I4/s72-c/why_men_shouldnt_write_advice_columns_Why_men_dont_give_advice-s800x563-35399%255B1%255D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-2333116011087083764</id><published>2011-07-22T19:37:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2011-07-22T19:38:23.709+05:30</updated><title type='text'>10 symptoms to know that exams are around</title><content type='html'>1. You tend to sleep more&lt;br /&gt;2. You realize your room is a mess&lt;br /&gt;3. You remember all the fun stuff you want to do but can't do it now&lt;br /&gt;4. You take a break after having taken a break 10 minutes ago&lt;br /&gt;5. Water is replaced by coffee&lt;br /&gt;6. You want to chat with friends you haven't spoken to for months&lt;br /&gt;7. You decide that you need a hair cut or cut your nails&lt;br /&gt;8. Junk food is more important that oxygen&lt;br /&gt;9. You convince yourself to stop after "just one more" episode&lt;br /&gt;10. You waste time doing irrelevant stuff like I am doing right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-2333116011087083764?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/2333116011087083764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=2333116011087083764' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/2333116011087083764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/2333116011087083764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2011/07/10-symptoms-to-know-that-exams-are.html' title='10 symptoms to know that exams are around'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-5344443743753793046</id><published>2009-10-08T03:06:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-10-08T03:08:30.313+05:30</updated><title type='text'>I'm still around</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;We date back to when you were a little kid&lt;br /&gt;With an innocent smile under which that devil hid.&lt;br /&gt;We looked out for each other and kept ourselves busy&lt;br /&gt;And had an incredible time doing things real silly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A jump in the puddle or a brawl on the field&lt;br /&gt;We were best buddies and always up to speed.&lt;br /&gt;We had our share of contests too&lt;br /&gt;But back then, I was just as big as you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As time went by you became a young individual&lt;br /&gt;One with big aspirations and dreams more factual.&lt;br /&gt;But I couldn't grow along, it was not meant to be&lt;br /&gt;For I am those little things in life that made you glee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just take a moment out of this overwhelming craze&lt;br /&gt;And look around with your innocent gaze.&lt;br /&gt;I'm still around and just the same&lt;br /&gt;With tiny little laughs for you to claim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not some material that you can acquire&lt;br /&gt;Nor some emotion you can conquer.&lt;br /&gt;I'm just that simple happy moment in your busy day;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still around, in every little way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-5344443743753793046?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/5344443743753793046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=5344443743753793046' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/5344443743753793046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/5344443743753793046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2009/10/im-still-around.html' title='I&apos;m still around'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-6147224798730459120</id><published>2009-10-06T12:00:00.007+05:30</published><updated>2009-10-06T12:29:26.241+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Surpriiiize!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;About a month back one of our team mates became a proud father of a baby boy. We being scattered all over the building and engrossed in our own little worlds didn't find the time to formally meet him as a team and share his joy. Today we finally managed to do so and had a surprise party arranged. Little did I know that there was a surprise element for all of us as well. We had a cake, a card which we had signed so long ago that some of us actually forgot if we signed it or not and a gift voucher. Those were the things I knew about. But then some people from our team (who were actually planning the whole surprise party) had more than just that. First up, they got us to fill out these sheets which asked us to share our advice for the new parent. It had sections where we had to fill up how long we have been married for, how many kids and how many nephews and nieces and such. I was kinda amused to know that I had zero experience in every section and I was the only person who actually filled a zero everywhere. But anyway, they read out each of those sheets and asked Badhri (the proud father) to guess who wrote each one of them. Once the guessing game was over the second game was unveiled, and this was a big surprise to me. It was not a surprise because of what the game was, but more because of what I experienced during the game. For this game they laid out nine tiny jars of baby food, each a different flavor with the labels ripped off. All we had to do was look at it, taste it or smell it do what ever we wanted to do with it and guess each of those flavors. Ah, this should be easy! I thought to myself. I thought that I was pretty good at this kind of stuff. As the first jar came closer I had the impression that baby food would be all fragrant and sweet tasting and all that and with that in mind I sniffed the first jar. Phew (just imagine a big hammer head hitting you and you were passing out), WHAM (written with that blast splash used in cartoon strips). I actually didn't know when the jar hit the desk and I was left staring at the roof. I couldn't believe that baby food could smell that horrible. It actually smelt like the mehendi which my sister used to mix and it totally grossed me out. All I knew about baby food till this day was cerelac, but this, this jar of baby food was like a lethal formula to get the baby sleeping with one sniff. All my thoughts of baby food being nice and sweet and fragrant were smashed so hard that I couldn't match smells anymore. Then again, this was just the first out of nine jars, and this one was green among all the yellow and orange and red coloured ones so I still had hope of the others helping in restoring my sense of smell. One by one each jar came to me and as I smelt each of them I felt sorry for all those babies who had to go through this phase of life. Oh poor little things, were you guys still developing the sense of smell or were your taste buds all hidden like your teeth that you didn't know what you were being fed. All these jars smelt so funny and some so horrible that I started feeling a little uncomfortable with those jars around the table. That's it, at that very instant I decided that if I am ever given a chance to go back in time and be a baby again, I WOULD NEVER OPT FOR IT!!!! Just to avoid eating that stuff.I wonder how many of you know the different kinds of baby food available, but if you have no idea and are in a stage where you need to start buying it, then please sniff before you buy because they could be pretty lethal. :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;And yes, while I was guessing stuff between bananas and mangos and peas there was this one guy who had written grass and feet among the other things he could figure out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-6147224798730459120?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/6147224798730459120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=6147224798730459120' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/6147224798730459120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/6147224798730459120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2009/10/surpriiiize.html' title='Surpriiiize!!!'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-7198782168156608105</id><published>2009-10-05T09:27:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-10-05T09:30:13.131+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Where does this go?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Recently a few of us colleagues decided to watch a football (american football) game in one of the most advanced and expensive stadiums ever built (&lt;a href="http://stadium.dallascowboys.com/"&gt;The new Dallas Cowboys Stadium&lt;/a&gt;). We had watched a couple of games on TV since the start of the season but didn't quite understand what was happening. All we could see was a team which at one instant would be pushing, pulling, pouncing and pounding the other team would land up in a dog pile over the guy who had the ball in the very next instant and keep doing the same thing repeatedly for about three hours. But thanks to the internet, we got to know the rules that put method in that chaos. With that covered, we bought tickets for the next game to be played in that stadium and were looking forward to witness what made the game and the stadium so special.&lt;br /&gt;The stadium was about thirty miles away from where we lived and in territories we had never ventured in before so one of us took directions and the rest made copies of the same and hit the road. After going some distance we realized that the directions we got along were taking us more into residential localities than major expressways. Something was wrong. The destination was the same but the route was way too complicated. But since we didn't have much of a choice we went along with it. To add to the complications of the route, we were getting misguided by road names that had north or south tagged to them. At one point we realized that we went about five miles in the wrong direction and had to do ten miles in the opposite direction. But then, amidst all this confusion, we came across this road which had a really startling name. On reading it the first time all of us were like "What the hell!!!". The guy who was driving started cursing the road naming convention big time but at the same time was thankful that we didn't have such roads on our route :). You must be wondering how bad could the name be. Well, i'll give it to you, but you will have to leave a comment with the first thing that crosses your mind after reading it. Ready?. The road was named "North Great South West Parkway". Yup, the only direction missing there was East :P. How i wish there was something to do with east in that name :P. Now don't act too smart and try to explain what that name means. I figured that out already :) But just for kicks, do let me know the first thing that crossed your mind :).  I was truly concerned about the plight of people with poor direction sense making their way though a town filled with such roads. Would they be able to make it to their destination without correcting their route? I can only imagine.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, by the way, the game was good fun even though we got seats on the top most row from where the players and cheerleaders looked like tiny lego blocks moving around :). We were more than content watching a screen 180 ft wide by 72 ft tall suspended directly above the field with HD quality picture showing us every detail of the game.  Just being part of such an electric atmosphere with about 95000 people and witnessing a screen that big, made the whole experience worthwhile. And of course, I don't think i will ever forget North Grand South West Parkway ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-7198782168156608105?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/7198782168156608105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=7198782168156608105' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/7198782168156608105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/7198782168156608105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2009/10/where-does-this-go.html' title='Where does this go?'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-4083220490234705016</id><published>2009-08-06T09:26:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-08-06T09:29:30.803+05:30</updated><title type='text'>A tube addict</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So here I am, in a new place, a few known faces and a new beginning of what I think could be size changing for me :) But as things are going two weeks from when I set foot here, I have done nothing but being a tube addict. What began as a 'I don't know anyone around so lets just kill time watching something' has actually taken the better of me and believe it or not, I know just as many people as I knew when I reached here, not one more; I have kind of started to feel disgusted of sitting around and watching episodes or movies without any definite reason and I think i am killing the whole plan of the size changing experience.&lt;br /&gt;If you ever move into a new environment with new people and nothing to do, do anything else but sitting in one place and watching the tube. IT IS NOT HEALTHY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-4083220490234705016?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/4083220490234705016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=4083220490234705016' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/4083220490234705016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/4083220490234705016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2009/08/tube-addict.html' title='A tube addict'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-5266085665789370561</id><published>2009-07-12T16:26:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-07-15T19:53:41.059+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Now when the hell did I write this! :S</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;I have no clue when I wrote this post, but then, there it was sitting in my archives. Anyway, read it, found it weird so what happens then... IT COMES ON TO THE BLOG :P&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;------------------------&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Blue solution in a flask, something else in a long pipe. Add a few drops of what ever is in the pipe to the flask, shake… :( nothing, add a few more…. hey! something happened, but not for long :(, who cares… add another… ah… now the colour changed. Aim achieved; smile on my face :).&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This is the only part of chemistry that interests me and troubles me too. Now smiles aren’t the end result of any chemistry experiment… I still cannot stand the experiment where we get the rotten egg smell as the end result.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Change. No clue what happened, but now there’s something new in front of me. What caused all this change??? The composition of the blue solution changed. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Human beings are similar to the blue solution, fiddle around and you will find them change. Change in colour is possible too… beat them up… they go black and blue, get them angry and they go red, get them to blush… uuuuh pink!! &lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-ascii-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-hansi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings;"&gt;J&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; But these changes aren’t permanent. What I am more concerned about are the changes that are more permanent or let me say long lasting. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-5266085665789370561?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/5266085665789370561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=5266085665789370561' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/5266085665789370561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/5266085665789370561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2009/07/now-when-hell-did-i-write-this-s.html' title='Now when the hell did I write this! :S'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-5331191322259291270</id><published>2009-07-05T09:40:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-07-05T09:47:24.685+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Random thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" border-collapse: collapse;  font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF9966;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;A seasoned driver.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You might have driven different vehicles with different regulations around the world. But you are not a seasoned driver if you haven't driven a car safely back home during peak hour traffic in any of the busy cities in India.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF9966;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Weight donation camp.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we can donate blood, eyes, kidney, heart and what not, why hasn't anyone thought of weight donation? Wouldn't that be like a win win situation?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF9966;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;A traffic junction.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is a place where two busy roads meet.&lt;br /&gt;A cop's whistle is greatly humbled by blaring horns.&lt;br /&gt;A signal where red means you have three more seconds to pull off your daring stunt of crossing the junction.&lt;br /&gt;The most probable place to get bad road so you will have to crawl across. This means instead of 300 vehicles that are supposed to cross a junction only 100 make it through thus adding to traffic woes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF9966;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Who is more irritating?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A person who irritates you sparingly throughout the day or someone you feel like killing inside of ten minutes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-5331191322259291270?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/5331191322259291270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=5331191322259291270' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/5331191322259291270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/5331191322259291270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2009/07/random-thoughts.html' title='Random thoughts'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-6284590449384140941</id><published>2009-06-14T03:41:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2009-07-05T09:48:06.457+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Still awake!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Today or rather tonight is one of those nights when I just can’t get any sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;What’s keeping me awake? If I knew, I would be doing something to stop it from keeping me awake rather than typing this post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;So anyway, it is not because I had a short nap in the afternoon as I would then keep wriggling in bed till my blanket looked more like a python around me and eventually fall asleep. Or do I strangle myself to sleep? Hmm good question :P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;It is not because I had too much for dinner and I cannot digest it now, If that was the reason then I would be a zero control burp machine for about an hour or two and get tired burping and fall asleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;It is not because I had coffee after dinner. I don’t think coffee can keep me away from sleep this long.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;It is not because my mind is working on inventing something new. I don’t think I need to give a reason for this. :P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;It is also not because I felt like posting something today!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Then what on earth is it!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Is there something I am missing out here?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Current time: 3:45 AM IST.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-6284590449384140941?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/6284590449384140941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=6284590449384140941' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/6284590449384140941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/6284590449384140941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2009/06/still-awake.html' title='Still awake!'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-2114750568314127794</id><published>2009-06-09T19:33:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-14T03:51:39.264+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The light bulb needs a change!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:Verdana;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I hope all of you have come across at least one of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;the many "light bulb" jokes that have been floating around for many years now. For the benefit of those who have not, the basic idea behind these jokes is to highlight certain characteristics of groups of people or communities. Here are a few of them just to get you on par for the ones which actually got me to type this post :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Q:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;How many Software Engineers does it take to change a light bulb?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;A:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;None. If you ask them, they’ll say it’s a hardware problem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Q:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;How many Hardware Engineers does it take to change a light bulb?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;A:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;None. If you ask them, they’ll say it’s a software problem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Q: How many Psychiatrists does it take to change a light bulb?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;A: Only one, but the bulb has got to really WANT to change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So now, hoping that you have understood what the light bulb jokes are all about, here are some of the crazy and hilarious replies I got for some of the questions I posed to one of my colleagues.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Q: How many robbers does it take to change a light bulb?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;A: Only one, but even the fused light bulb will be taken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Q: How many Indian cops does it take to change a light bulb?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;A: No point, the cop will come only once everything is over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Q: How many US cops does it take to change a light bulb?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;A: No point counting. One to receive the 911 call, all the cops in the vicinity to respond to it, one ambulance, one fire brigade, loads of yellow tape to mark the area of action, one cop to run around with a video camera to show this incident on TV some day, one special agent to boss around, and if nothing happens in 10 minutes, one chopper and a million media personnel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Q: How many terrorists does it take to change a light bulb?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;This got my colleague confused. "You need to be specific!" she said and then came these replies,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;A: If it is Taliban: Ten. Because ten of them set out on the mission, three die in combat at the border, three more die during the mission, three kill each other in some internal confrontation, and finally one changes it but then he gets arrested.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;A: If it is LTTE: One. He just shows up and then blows up. No wall remains, no socket remains hence no need of a light bulb.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;A: If it is ULFA: Doesn’t matter. Because after all the hard work of planning it and getting all the men involved, they will ultimately realize that they changed the wrong one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-2114750568314127794?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/2114750568314127794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=2114750568314127794' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/2114750568314127794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/2114750568314127794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2009/06/light-bulb-needs-change.html' title='The light bulb needs a change!'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-1858527894040327936</id><published>2009-04-12T11:46:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-12T20:41:20.869+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Take it... And go!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Recently on my trip to Mangalore I got acquainted with a rather unusual diet that my cousin had adopted. Unusual because I had never heard of it before, not that I follow the latest in diets and such, and also because this one was totally opposite to my limited understanding of diets for weight loss!&lt;br /&gt;Actually I had to work my way through the list of stuff my cousin couldn't eat to figure out what his diet was. This is how the deduction went...&lt;br /&gt;So, weight loss diet eh! What have you been restricted from?&lt;br /&gt;And there the list began.&lt;br /&gt;No rice and anything related to it. No crispy dosa, no soft idly, etc.&lt;br /&gt;Fair enough I thought.&lt;br /&gt;No wheat, its cousins and anything related to them!&lt;br /&gt;Hun! Strange! But anyway, OK.&lt;br /&gt;No sweets.&lt;br /&gt;Yup! No one suggests sweets on a weight loss diet.&lt;br /&gt;No milk in any form.&lt;br /&gt;Slowly his list was getting bigger and my mind was running wild trying to figure out what was left. For a minute I thought that it would have been easier if he had just told us what he could eat, but then this way was more interesting as kept the suspense alive :)&lt;br /&gt;No sugar in any form.&lt;br /&gt;You already mentioned that right...&lt;br /&gt;He smiled and said... No fruits because it is a source of sugar, no carrots, no beetroot for the same reason.&lt;br /&gt;What! You are kidding me right!&lt;br /&gt;Now I got really impatient. What the hell is left dude! You just threw the entire fiber family out of the window!&lt;br /&gt;With a grin on his face he said “Meat, fish, eggs, pulses and greens.”&lt;br /&gt;It was only then I realized that I had never considered meat all this while. May be because I took it for granted that meat is always the very first thing a dietician would ask you to stay away from while on weight loss.&lt;br /&gt;It took me a while to realize what he said and actually make sense of it.&lt;br /&gt;So let me get this straight. You ate meat all your life and became what you are today, and now the dietician is making you eat the same thing. A complete protein diet! Strange, very strange! It's like the doc punished you for eating meat all these years.&lt;br /&gt;Just imagine the doc looking at him with eyes of fury, rage in his voice, biting his teeth and screaming out "You like meat eh! And don’t like eating anything else! Want to become a pig? Here, now you eat only meat. I'll whack you if you touch anything else!" “This is your diet from now on. Take it... and go!"&lt;br /&gt;I bet my cousin would have been guessing if the dietician was serious or plain sarcastic :) but then it turned out that he was actually putting him on a high protein diet.&lt;br /&gt;My cousin found it weird in the beginning but then has actually followed it religiously for about three months now. Knowing this, my next obvious question was, “How much did you loose?”&lt;br /&gt;About nineteen kilos he said.&lt;br /&gt;Woooah! This time I was caught staring at him, trying to see what a person who has just lost nineteen kilos in three months looks like :) And here am I, trying to burn it out in the gym with almost no reduction in flab content :(&lt;br /&gt;It took a while for me to understand how this whole thing works and sure enough, a high protein diet proves to be a quick weight loss one.&lt;br /&gt;Coming to think of it, following this diet may make you get so fed up of having only meat for such a long time that you will eventually have lesser of it once you are off the diet :P&lt;br /&gt;So now that you too have learnt a new way to reduce weight, I ask this question to all meat lovers reading this post. "Are you game to follow such a diet if you had to?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-1858527894040327936?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/1858527894040327936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=1858527894040327936' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/1858527894040327936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/1858527894040327936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2009/04/take-it-and-go.html' title='Take it... And go!'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-7686213439656501599</id><published>2009-03-12T23:35:00.019+05:30</published><updated>2009-03-14T00:16:13.037+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Tagged! One picture, Many memories.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt;Ah! So it had to be a snap from my Birthday!&lt;br /&gt;After being tagged by &lt;a href="http://pensnswords.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Stargazer &lt;/a&gt;I had to spend a while trying to get to a snap I could write about. So after a lot of legal permutations and combinations, this is the sixth snap from the sixth folder :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3453/3348954827_ca86cc7e7d_b.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 50%; height: 50%;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3453/3348954827_ca86cc7e7d_b.jpg" alt="" border="1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well quite a few records broken on this day I must say. Let me just list out a couple of them.  &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned 25! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I could legally drive an SUV in the US, my long time craving :)  But guess what! even though I crossed 25 and really wanted to get the feel of driving an SUV I didn’t even get close to sitting in one.  &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was my first birthday outside home!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes! For 24 years my parents looked at me grow upwards, but this lateral growth was only for me to see. :)  &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time I blew candles for a lifetime!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some ill effects of being a prankster of a group is that your birthday is when it all comes back to you! I was not allowed to touch any of the candles and I had to blow each one of them out completely. It would be simple but only if these freaking tiny little candles didn’t light up again with a spark! This snap was taken just then… the moment when the fun element of the candles igniting again was slowly dying out and becoming more of an annoyance :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time I got a double doze of cake smearing and birthday bumps!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cake smearing part was still OK… but the birthday bumps :’( Oh My God! You might have heard of obscenity censored, but this was a special censored version of ruthless hitting with what ever one could find… my butt was so soar at the end of it all that I felt, oh sorry, I didn’t feel a thing. Even if a truck came and rammed me on my backside, I wouldn’t know a thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;My first birthday when I popped champagne!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the few months that I had been among new faces in the US, I got to be known as a person who enjoyed his wine! So, surprise surprise… there came the bottle of champagne! I guess they got it to try and help reduce the pain I was going to endure later during the night :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;And as one last addition… The amazing cake!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was kind of curious when my friend said that he had to think a lot as to what kind of cake he wanted to order for me and that he finally struck gold. So all evening was spent in walking around my house and trying to figure out what could be on the cake. I couldn't really figure out what it could be. Then at night the cake was revealed… and yes, I turned from an inquisitive 25 year old guy to a giggly 4 year old kid :) I had least expected to see what I saw. And what amazed me more was that it was actually done by hand and not mechanized. Well, I just couldn’t stop myself from posting this snap as well, so here you go…the top view of my cake, with one of my all time favorite characters in animation :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3449/3348974335_2dfa78520d_b.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 50%; height: 50%;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3449/3348974335_2dfa78520d_b.jpg" alt="" border="1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure if i have enough people to tag, but anyway, I now tag &lt;a href="http://arbit-thaati.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Anish&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://infinite-delirium.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Supriya&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://avi-dreams.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Avishek&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt;And what exactly you need to be doing? Pick out the sixth photograph from the sixth photograph folder and write along! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-7686213439656501599?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/7686213439656501599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=7686213439656501599' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/7686213439656501599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/7686213439656501599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2009/03/ah-so-it-had-to-be-snap-from-my.html' title='Tagged! One picture, Many memories.'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3453/3348954827_ca86cc7e7d_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-7642649050515619340</id><published>2009-02-17T17:31:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-17T21:25:41.858+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The holdup</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It was an early morning where the air was all misty and the sun just managed to touch the ground. The breeze was very soft, it tickled my feet, and the chill it carried crawled up to my knees and shook me awake. Everything was so beautiful, so calm, nothing could be more peaceful than what I was experiencing right then and just at that moment... "Wake up!" "Where do you think you are?" "This is no fairy tale land." Damn it! What was I thinking of, where do I think I am. Any more of this behavior and they will shoot me in the head or leave me paralyzed. Hurriedly I woke up, scrambled around for my belongings, waited to have what was being served, the only good food I would have for the day. We had our share and then in a rush were sent to the loading area. With droopy and tired eyes I could faintly see the lights come closer. Oh no! Not another day of misery, what did I do that these people are treating me this way? Oh crap... Wait... Stop shoving me in... There is hardly any place in there, I will die of suffocation or be squeezed to death. Oh just wait! Let me at least get a grip onto something. But no, these ruthless people have to have their way; we are not here for your comfort they say, and keep moving along. Oh God! Thank you for small mercies! Thank you for giving me sufficient time to take a nap, to complete my share of sleep that these people snatched away from me. It will take a while to reach the other end of hell, let me dream good thoughts till then. But then I guess my share of mercy ran out as well, the bumpy ride didn't let me rest my eyes, it threw me awake each and every time. Damn you! And damn this guy who is driving. Is he high on something? But he is not allowed to! Then why this recklessness? May be it is part of the plan to make our existence around here a pain so that we give up on our own rather than they having to bring us down. Sadists! We reached in a half dead state just to know that from now on there is no merry time for the rest of the day. We literally have to slog our asses off if we want to stay alive. But how is that possible, I was not built for this. I was a simple guy with a simple well paying job. Why did you take me into captivity? What wrong did I do? Is it my fault if everything went wrong everywhere else? Stop hounding me! They make me sign a register everyday; they check my belongings, like I have something so deadly that it is a threat to them. Don't they realize that they are the ones threatening me? Now they split us up into batches each of us tied together so that we do not run away. A dozen more people walk around just to make sure we are not lazing around. All day long we live at the tip of their gun, hoping that it doesn't have a reason to go ballistic. After a long exhausting period they place some slop on the table. Green slop, yellow slop, and some other assortment of slop. We ate the slop they served and we got back to the crap they made us do. I don't even know what I am doing or even why I am doing it. But in this place I have no say! I'm just their slave in their freaking world! I am tired you see, I have done my share of work for today, please let me go, I plead. But there isn't anyone to answer my cry. It just me and that weird looking guard who says that I haven't completed my term yet. Get back to work you worthless lump! Make yourself useful for the rest of the day. You are in captivity for as long you are with us! Don't get too smart. Oh no! What now! How can I get back to doing something when I don't really have anything to do? Real sadists these guys! But then what can I do. After all they are the ones keeping me alive. The world outside is barren and there is no hope to live. Ok boss you win. Finally my day is over, they let me out of their holding they made me a free man again of some sorts, but just till the next morning when reality strikes back again!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-7642649050515619340?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/7642649050515619340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=7642649050515619340' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/7642649050515619340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/7642649050515619340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2009/02/holdup.html' title='The holdup'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-9068091649141216261</id><published>2009-02-12T23:35:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-17T21:28:50.569+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Just Instrumental</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;What's more important when it comes to listening to music? Is it the lyrics, the delivery or the instrumental? Everyone would agree that all these play an equally important role in making a song a chart buster . But then what about just instrumental? There are no words, there is no style of delivery but it still can be catchy or can elevate you into a totally different world. It is true that lyrics give depth to a song, but in a way it gives that song just that one dimension which is subject to ones interpretation. Being a regular listner of just instrumental I have begun to believe that music without lyrics is like a book which reads different every time it is read. It has it's own characters each speaking out something throughout the piece. A little wierd but yes sometimes has it's own lyrics. Well, now I don't mean that lyrics are absolutely not required, but I'm just trying to bring out the vastness of how simple tunes with no lyrics can be interpreted. I'm not sure how many of you have felt this but if you haven't or if you have really not considered tuning into instrumental then I suggest that you give it a try.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-9068091649141216261?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/9068091649141216261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=9068091649141216261' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/9068091649141216261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/9068091649141216261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2009/02/just-instrumental.html' title='Just Instrumental'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-6206653379266818430</id><published>2009-02-01T20:25:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-01T20:31:57.222+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Just typing...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;Well, it’s not that I have stopped blogging and not that I don’t know what to write about... but more often than not I am just bored for no reason or caught with a blank on my face! I do the things that I did these years, umm... not really, I have them all but it still feels weird with me just sitting... not knowing how days go by, and there, again stuck not knowing what to write. Just sitting, staring at some characters in black.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I think I need some quiet time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-6206653379266818430?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/6206653379266818430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=6206653379266818430' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/6206653379266818430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/6206653379266818430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2009/02/just-typing.html' title='Just typing...'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-2922001177712374364</id><published>2008-10-08T11:23:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-10-08T11:53:07.274+05:30</updated><title type='text'>I'm a born _______ !</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You must  have heard this phrase ...&lt;br /&gt;"He/she is a born ______"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;(Fill in the blanks with the correct answer. Any answer, however correct (eg. artist, singer, cricketer, yada yada yada (this one borrowed from stargazer), other than the one written in the VTU answer template will not be given any marks, unless of course you are in the grace marks region)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and must have also used it in the many days that you have lived just to read this post.&lt;br /&gt;Well, it just dawned upon me (at 1:03 AM on the rainy night of the 8th of October 2008, when my super dirty car is getting a natural wash) as to what needs to go in that blank for me.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, in the middle of all this gloominess I have found the answer to my blank... and since I have done so, I would like to share it with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I, sketcher, am a born LAZZZZZZZZZZZZZY GUY !!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hun, what was that... I know you all agree with me. I know!!&lt;br /&gt;The funda of me the anda(in shape) is simple... (beware, killer logic on its way!)&lt;br /&gt;Musicians are born singers when they start singing at a very young age, no training no whatever else it requires, nothing. They just learn to be good singers.&lt;br /&gt;Likewise, I started doing two things, eat and sleep, right from birth. And now, without any practice or effort, I do just that day in and day out. Eat... sleep, eat... sleep. When someone asks me how did my weekend go... I have one standard answer, ate... slept! Now aren't these the traits of a born lazy guy??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To all those who find some kind of kinship with this post... Welcome to the slouch club.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-2922001177712374364?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/2922001177712374364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=2922001177712374364' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/2922001177712374364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/2922001177712374364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2008/10/im-born.html' title='I&apos;m a born _______ !'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-2852931536762431044</id><published>2008-10-05T11:05:00.007+05:30</published><updated>2008-10-05T12:29:26.664+05:30</updated><title type='text'>What a let down...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;For a looong long time I tried to get back to doing stuff, stuff that I always wanted to do but never found the time, or let me say, laziness never let time come into my hands. Then finally, after one hell of a battle with laziness, I managed to sit up and get back to doing things. One of which was being regular on this blog. And the other was to back to sketching.&lt;br /&gt;With a very nervous hand and an even nervous mind I picked up my pencil, flipped through pages of half attempts made earlier (quite demoralizing on it's own) and made it to a new page in my sketch book. Now that I had everything set up I decided to start from the basics as I was coming back to my long forgotten art of sketching :P. After a few strokes of practice I decided to sketch something good, something that would make me want to sketch again. I looked around for something simple yet interesting, and to my luck, I found exactly what I needed. Stroke by stroke I kept building the sketch, and every few minutes just stopped and stared at what I was doing. I almost stopped in the middle loosing hope of doing justice to the sketch, but something kept pushing me to finish it. When it was done I was actually surprised to see what I had sketched. I had a smile on my face, a smile of satisfaction. It was quite a relief to know that I still hadn't lost touch. I immediately took a snap of it, and sent it across to everyone I know just to show off :D.  The most common question I got in response was "Who is this? Is this your girlfriend?"  Well.. what can I say, If this were my girlfriend, then why would I share a sketch of her with you guys!! I think I would keep it between just the two of us!&lt;br /&gt;So, just for kicks (or AGT as some of us would say) here's what I sketched.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/gonsalves.john/SOhXlcY4IOI/AAAAAAAADEg/R2XH13RrlGA/Sketch%201_%20cropped.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SOhX7mg-4sI/AAAAAAAADEo/Kzoggc4R-Uk/s200/Sketch+1_+cropped_thumbnail.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253545646790468290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102); font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" &gt;click on the image to see a better sized one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, what was the let down...&lt;br /&gt;Since I was all happy that I could still sketch after such a long break, I took up another assignment. This one more difficult, simply because I wanted to match the sketch with the actual image. This time of course, the nervousness was outside the window. So then, I sat with my pencils and sketching pad, again, stroke by stroke put detail into the sketch. Well, first of all... the sketch was not all that similar to the actual image, but most importantly... the sketch did not even look like a normal human :( It looked deformed. Disturbing... really. So now, again... the nervousness that was outside the window has found it way back to the doorstep. And the sketch... well I think I better put that outside the window :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;(For obvious reasons the second sketch is not available for you to see)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-2852931536762431044?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/2852931536762431044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=2852931536762431044' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/2852931536762431044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/2852931536762431044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2008/10/what-let-down.html' title='What a let down...'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SOhX7mg-4sI/AAAAAAAADEo/Kzoggc4R-Uk/s72-c/Sketch+1_+cropped_thumbnail.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-2749822151134122632</id><published>2008-08-16T12:12:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-08-16T12:16:59.103+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Total chaos!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clock work!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A simple Sunday morning, everything going on like clockwork... the snoozing of the alarm every fourth minute for an hour and more, the reluctant lazy stretch to wake up, the dive back in bed for the last two minutes of sleep (the most needed 2 minutes of sleep), the hurried realization of being somewhere within the next half hour... all of it, even though chaotic, is still part of the every Sunday routine... so "clockwork" :) Almost every week that I have been here, intentions of doing something different over a weekend just seem to remain an intention. Nothing really happens as planned!  Oh wait!! did I ever plan something in the first place! :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Whattee!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing much!! just chilling!! - on what? an ice pack?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Baseball!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A game where the striker runs to the next base knowing very well that he will be out before getting there! Why did he run in such a situation in the first place... who the hell knows... "Hit and Run"!! Moral of the story... If you want to run and be safe... hit hard enough! Now what do you do the next time you are on the road and you bump into a stationary vehicle?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My side of the fence!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside or outside? looks like i have a fence on only one side... I tried to find the other end  of the fence but had to leave hope! It took me five months to get back to see my side of the fence! phew!! so... am i on the inside or outside? please help!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Microsoft word!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The single software responsible to screw up the capability of a person to spell words correctly. One living example who has been affected by this deadly virus is right now putting in xtra effort to get his spellings wright. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; (Hope they are all correct! :P )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Why this post??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zimbly gumbly!! ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-2749822151134122632?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/2749822151134122632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=2749822151134122632' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/2749822151134122632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/2749822151134122632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2008/08/total-chaos.html' title='Total chaos!!'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-5552236334043536423</id><published>2008-02-27T11:19:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-29T09:15:33.599+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The evolution of.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Well... i am really bad at writing metered poetry, and i seriously have not made an attempt. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Request you to get into my boots, imagine me doing a sing song recital of this write up, and read it in that same way :)  Hope you achieve it! :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mr. Ape woke up one day and found himself in a fix,&lt;br /&gt;He didn't know what to do, coz it was time to make a pick.&lt;br /&gt;"Which one of these do I want to be?" he asked himself that question,&lt;br /&gt;An ape or man? what might be more fun, its time of crazy evolution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He swung upwards from branch to branch, to get a better picture,&lt;br /&gt;And as he saw the masses down there, he said "I'd rather be a ditcher!"&lt;br /&gt;Off he went to his "hang out" where there were a couple more goofs,&lt;br /&gt;One with a stone, one with an axe and one with muddy hoofs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He still had no clue of what he needs to do, to make himself feel good,&lt;br /&gt;It was not easy to leave all behind and especially this abundance of food.&lt;br /&gt;But then he saw the wonders of the axe and began to take the walk,&lt;br /&gt;A walk that made him loose his swing and the comfort of "I know it all!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we stand just at that point where the ape was once before,&lt;br /&gt;Do we want to leave the "hang out" now and check out what's in store.&lt;br /&gt;With the pace at which the axe turned to snipes and the mind moves on today,&lt;br /&gt;Man will live with chips rigged up, and hope they won't betray!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;There is so much progress in the field of medical sciences (technology in general) that we find all kinds of gizmos, that we are evolving from natural herbs and roots to becoming semi cyborgs. Is it good for us to evolve this much where we loose are present structure?. It might not be natural evolution, but it can be so that every person one day will walk with a portable life sustainer. It is something that might be scary, or might be a boon to mankind, but what ever it is, it's got me to think that it is now our time to chose our degree evolution.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more thing that brought me to write this post, and actually the more influential point is this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a time when kids spent a lifetime of innocence before they were introduced to the realities of the world. A lifetime of self will and laziness. A lifetime of a walk in wonderland. But things have changed, changed so much that kids don't even know what it is to spend a day of laziness. All they are driven through are competitions, complicated academics, heads up trainings, extra curricular interests and what not. Some of them don't even know what they are going through, and by the time they do, its too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;There was a time, when youngsters planned things for the next week or month, when they dreamt of the next holiday and the time they get to spend with friends, when they thought of things in their time, in their phase of life. But now they have to plan for the next phase of life without realizing that this current phase is not being lived. Plan for something a better future, while the past is going unnoticed. Planning for the time to come, when the time in hand is just slipping away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have gotten so monotonous with the things we do, that we are not too different from programmed robots. We wake up at a definite time, we do the same kind of things every day. We have a definite routine which we easily get disinterested in. We are trying to run faster than what is possible, stretch further than our reach, climb higher than our limit, dive deeper than the ocean. If we want to so much in the present, with the intension of having a better future... then when will we ever enjoy the present? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-5552236334043536423?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/5552236334043536423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=5552236334043536423' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/5552236334043536423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/5552236334043536423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2008/02/evolution-of.html' title='The evolution of.....'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-7459279773273270127</id><published>2007-07-02T16:55:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-09-10T13:55:20.871+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The candle and the wind</title><content type='html'>A flame so calm, so steady, so bright,&lt;br /&gt;That gives hope in the darkest of nights.&lt;br /&gt;It has a special something to speak of its power,&lt;br /&gt;Let's say, something as splendid as a meteor shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In winds it flutters and dims,&lt;br /&gt;But still holds on to that faint little film.&lt;br /&gt;Then when the wind stops blowing in fury,&lt;br /&gt;The flame comes back with all its glory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A small lesson is here for us to pick,&lt;br /&gt;From this simple flame of a candle stick.&lt;br /&gt;Hold on till your enemy is done pushing you down,&lt;br /&gt;'Coz after that, it's only you people will renown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes no sense to always be on the front,&lt;br /&gt;And display how majestic is your confront.&lt;br /&gt;Why opt for wars when problems need to be tackled?&lt;br /&gt;when ahimsa can also break your opponents shackles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-7459279773273270127?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/7459279773273270127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=7459279773273270127' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/7459279773273270127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/7459279773273270127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2007/07/candle-and-wind.html' title='The candle and the wind'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-1201292611411137153</id><published>2007-04-24T22:00:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-04-25T00:14:17.531+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The grass grows...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The old saying goes “&lt;em&gt;The grass is always greener on the other side&lt;/em&gt;”. But why is it always that we are on the other side of the grass?&lt;br /&gt;Sitting in a train on the way for a fun filled vacation after many weeks of hectic work can make your mind so empty, it feels like you just got it all sucked up and stored in a vacuum jar at home. And when the mind is all empty, they say the devil’s at work. Now, if my mind is empty… what the hell is the devil working on? Restructuring brain cells or something?&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the devil was working on something… I didn’t know what… but these are some of the thoughts that passed by mind during that lazy slouch.&lt;br /&gt;¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;I sat at the window, my head to the bars,&lt;br /&gt;My mind all free from the corporate wars.&lt;br /&gt;As the train whistled on, I saw the guard waving the green,&lt;br /&gt;And thought, lucky guy, there is no frustration to be seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;I stopped the waving, as I looked at those guys,&lt;br /&gt;They were all relaxed and carrying a grand smile.&lt;br /&gt;While staring at that bunch of guys in the bogie,&lt;br /&gt;Lucky guys, I thought, they have all the money to live a life so care free.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went past woods, we went past fields,&lt;br /&gt;Then I saw a bunch of farmers dancing in the rain.&lt;br /&gt;I saw them enjoy every drop that wet the earth,&lt;br /&gt;And thought, when it rains, we consider the day is of no worth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;As we danced we saw the train go past,&lt;br /&gt;And then saw these guys pull the window covers fast.&lt;br /&gt;Our living depend on the rains and the earth,&lt;br /&gt;While these guys can happily live through the worst drought.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Each time that I think my job is a pain,&lt;br /&gt;I remember the many people I saw while in the train.&lt;br /&gt;Then I imagine myself on the other side,&lt;br /&gt;And see that the pain seems lesser on my side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pain is present in every phase of life and every job offering,&lt;br /&gt;It is not a choice and will always bt there for the giving.&lt;br /&gt;But to suffer in its existance or ignore it is what we get to decide,&lt;br /&gt;And that’s what makes a person see the grass grow greener on his side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-1201292611411137153?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/1201292611411137153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=1201292611411137153' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/1201292611411137153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/1201292611411137153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2007/04/grass-grows.html' title='The grass grows...'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-6585853507087200283</id><published>2007-04-23T14:44:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-04-24T22:23:06.494+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Something's cooking!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So... long time no post... Sorry bout that... I was busy getting all excited about crossing the Indian borders for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;Now that I have cooled down a little, the posts are back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All these years I have been having all kinds of food, the spicy stuff, the bland stuff, the dry and the wet stuff, and also the yellow or green or white stuff and now that the reigns of the kitchen are in the hand of us bachelors... things have not changed much. We still have variety, we still have different tastes, but the colour... aah!!! We hardly care.&lt;br /&gt;For the two days that I managed to be of some help in the kitchen I realized that cooking for oneself isn't all that difficult. At the end of the day, you will have something to eat. Actually... I’m thinking of trade marking the very few of our recipes, I’ll call it the "Something" special. Why is it called so... Let me try and explain. Usually, the thought process of my mum at the beginning of the day would be... &lt;em&gt;let me make chicken Manchurian with some Chinese noodles&lt;/em&gt;. So... as you can see, there is a definite idea as to what the end product is going to be. But in our case... we start off with... &lt;em&gt;Ok, now what do we have? chicken to start with, pepper, masalas, salt, ok! good enough... let's prepare chicken&lt;/em&gt;. Now... you notice the difference? We stopped at chicken, there is nothing beyond that. Now that doesn’t sound good for a name of a dish right! So I, with a lot of respect to our cooking, suffixed the word "something" to it. So now... when we enter the kitchen and look at the ingredients, we know that we are going to prepare “chicken something”.&lt;br /&gt;A good chef is one who experiments with ingredients and has a faint idea of what his dish will look and taste like. We chefs are close to that because we know for sure what our dish will look like. It will for sure be red in colour. Be it chicken or potatoes, prawns or eggs, it will always be red. I also thought of changing the names of the recipes from a suffixed "something" to a prefixed "red" but then realized that by doing this I will be limiting the very instinct of experimentation in us upcoming chefs to contribute the something series.&lt;br /&gt;As to how the food tastes... not bad, not bad at all. We still have the American style, when the food turns out bland, or the Mexican style, when the dish turns out pasty, or the Chinese style, when you can get the strong taste of salt, or the Indian, when everything is just right!. But now… you know that in India we have a lot of variations right… so we tuned our dishes to those varieties too. So we have the Andhra Style, when the chilly powder is more, or the Gujju style, when the rotis go hard, or the Karnatic style when we get something like bisi bele bath, or then the mom’s own style when the proportions mixed together to give an exotic taste. But remember... the taste is always around the same scale.&lt;br /&gt;I think you guys should try cooking too... it is a lot of fun!!&lt;br /&gt;I don't mind sharing the recipes with you guys, after all... the readers of my blog should get some benefit out of it :)&lt;br /&gt;Here it goes... You first start off with some motivation to cooking the "Something" series of dishes. How do you do that?? Simple!!! Just listen to "Mambo No. 5" by Lou Bega :) Why do you need that song?? Concentrate on the lyrics for that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little bit of Monica in my life&lt;br /&gt;A little bit of Erica by my side&lt;br /&gt;A little bit of Rita is all I need&lt;br /&gt;A little bit of Tina is what I see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, you guys know what I am getting at right!!. See!! I knew that y'all are a bunch of smart people...&lt;br /&gt;Replace each of those names with the ingredients you see around you.&lt;br /&gt;Ex:&lt;br /&gt;A little bit of Chicken in my life&lt;br /&gt;A little bit of meat masala by my side&lt;br /&gt;A little bit of salt is all I need&lt;br /&gt;A little bit of pepper is what I see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There it is. “Chicken Something” is ready to serve at the end of the song. Simple recipes to exotic dishes. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I know that you guys have that 'What a crappy post' kind of expression on your face... but I bet that one day when you are in the kitchen with the frying pan in front of you and the spatula in your hand... you will definitely remember this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy cooking and all the best.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-6585853507087200283?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/6585853507087200283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=6585853507087200283' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/6585853507087200283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/6585853507087200283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2007/04/somethings-cooking.html' title='Something&apos;s cooking!'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-7478071876603168508</id><published>2007-02-13T22:26:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-12-12T00:11:43.245+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Stupid Cupid!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/Rdsly3-gmwI/AAAAAAAAASc/sLY7Hf_k8fQ/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/Rdsly3-gmwI/AAAAAAAAASc/sLY7Hf_k8fQ/s200/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033658564466481922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It started coz this guy must have been jobless,&lt;br /&gt;So he went and got his girl a necklace.&lt;br /&gt;But then these goofs found a way to make money,&lt;br /&gt;And in such a way that the guy went bankrupt for his honey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started with express your feeling to the one you love,&lt;br /&gt;But the sales weren’t good, so they changed it to anyone you love.&lt;br /&gt;I love my dad, I love my mum, I love every friend that I know,&lt;br /&gt;And if I have to express myself to each of these people on just one day,&lt;br /&gt;Believe me… even you will not know where to go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/RdsmGX-gmxI/AAAAAAAAASk/EEJ-AuVKbRE/s1600-h/cupid.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/RdsmGX-gmxI/AAAAAAAAASk/EEJ-AuVKbRE/s200/cupid.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033658899473931026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It grew to printing cards, selling flowers and introducing cupid,&lt;br /&gt;Yes sir, the same hero with wings and a bow, trust me, he looks stupid.&lt;br /&gt;Cupid flew around, as his arrows drew hearts,&lt;br /&gt;Believe me, it is true that love is blind, coz cupid released arrows like blind darts!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He takes her out, he buys her gifts,&lt;br /&gt;Then go for a meal and he lands up with a kiss.&lt;br /&gt;And one fine day he realizes he made a mistake,&lt;br /&gt;Believe me, that day he’ll cuss and say “Why this girl’s expenses did I have to undertake?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ibchelp.org/cards/valentinecard55th.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 119px; height: 125px;" src="http://www.ibchelp.org/cards/valentinecard55th.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just declaring a day wasn’t enough so the ads are all over the place,&lt;br /&gt;To get the guys to buy their goods as a gift, just to get a smile on their darlings face.&lt;br /&gt;Oh Romeo, blind in love, you will not see on this day,&lt;br /&gt;Believe me, these guys never advertise something the girl can give, coz they know, the girl thinks forever even when love is at stake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You want to sell red roses, well, that's a nice way one can express love,&lt;br /&gt;You want to sell cards, now… no guy is good at pretty lines, so this too can pass.&lt;br /&gt;You want to sell jewelry, hmmm now the purse begins to tear apart,&lt;br /&gt;You want to sell a whole house, dude… why bring so much money to prove the love in a guys’ heart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just on this one day you will use your entire guts to say “Dyearling, I lowe you!!”&lt;br /&gt;And when the lowe looses its e and you are all low,&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/Rdsndn-gmyI/AAAAAAAAASs/qNiQdPyUUUA/s1600-h/lowe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/Rdsndn-gmyI/AAAAAAAAASs/qNiQdPyUUUA/s200/lowe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033660398417517346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will hang up on her call saying “Hey, screw you!”&lt;br /&gt;Why all this pomp and all this fancy,&lt;br /&gt;Believe me, it's best to remain single, neat and tidy.&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;This write up comes from some one who thinks being single is best!&lt;br /&gt;All those lowe berds out there... please don't get offended, may be there is something you can learn! ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-7478071876603168508?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/7478071876603168508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=7478071876603168508' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/7478071876603168508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/7478071876603168508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2007/02/stupid-cupid_13.html' title='Stupid Cupid!'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/Rdsly3-gmwI/AAAAAAAAASc/sLY7Hf_k8fQ/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-5622933944904733863</id><published>2006-12-29T00:43:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-01-02T22:25:44.891+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Why don't they let the dead rest in peace?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;She was so beautiful, she was so smart,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;She was known as one who beat in every heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;She had no ties with the bad and evil,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;She had a record as clean as white.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;But why didn't they let her rest in peace?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;She had a drink, she kissed this man,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;There was nothing to be said but people drew a connecting line.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;The speed was high, the driver all drunk,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;He lost the wheel for a second, and they all ended in rubble.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;She was no more, so were the others,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;But why didn't they let them rest in peace?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;The line got bolder, the rumors still deeper,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;All because the guy she kissed died along with her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;They gathered in many to pay respect,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;They gathered in many to lay their wreath,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;And within a few days new rumors began to creep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;But still they didn't let her rest in peace!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Once know for a person with an oh so loving heart,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Was now known as a person with a black mark.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;The media made their money; the cops began their quest,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;All to find out till where the line could be drawn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Some said she was engaged, some said she was not,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Others said she was carrying,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;But why didn't anyone say "Leave it alone, let her rest in peace?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Lots of money spent, lots of time ticked by,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;And finally they pronounced that she was clean all the while.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;But again, why couldn't they let her rest in peace all this while?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;What was the need to carry on this quest?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Who would it benefit?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;For the one accused has turned to dust with the rest!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;After all this, a question arose within me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Why do people always make use when the person who is dead is the one accused?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;He drove his car on that day; He was enjoying his drive,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;He then felt his body sweat,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;He knew well that he was on the verge of a stroke.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;He stalled his car at the nearest hospital,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;He was quick to call his doctor friend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;He consulted his friend and was content that he had done his part well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;This hospital was not well equipped, the staff not at their best,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;There was some commotion while this man was going through his stroke.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;They laid him in an ambulance, and off went the siren,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;They decided to take him to the hospital where his doc friend was setting the table.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Things had to go wrong; the vehicle got a flat, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;And as time passed by, even his pulse was going flat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;The replacement came in a while; a sigh of relief filled their eyes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;But it wasn't long before this one ran out of fuel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;They made a call, another ambulance set off,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;And this man was now moving into a coma without a clue.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;The doc finally got to see his dear friend,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;But in a state where he could do nothing but pray that he could cheat his end.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;The prayers did work but not for long,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;This man did not last to see the new morn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;His family wept and so did the others,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;And many couldn't believe this dramatic an end to occur.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;A while passed by, the hurt was healing,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;When people came by to say "Sue those criminals! This man did not deserve to die."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;His time was over; he was destined to die,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;For he could not cheat death even though he knew that what he had done was right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;But people never understand such things, they always want revenge,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Why can't they just let such people rest in peace at their end?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;If filing suits could bring the dead back, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Then our judicial system would have such cases piled by the lakh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;But people can never change, they will never let the dead rest in peace!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-5622933944904733863?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/5622933944904733863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=5622933944904733863' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/5622933944904733863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/5622933944904733863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2006/12/why-dont-they-let-dead-rest-in-peace.html' title='Why don&apos;t they let the dead rest in peace?'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-116464688834663408</id><published>2006-11-27T22:22:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-12-12T21:39:54.531+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Park 99 - Memories unfold!</title><content type='html'>Firstly, my apologies for keeping y’all waiting so long for this post.&lt;br /&gt;   Time, one of the things that cannot be controlled and we don’t get tired hoping it could be controlled. But even though time never slows or fastens its pace we still notice time to move slow or fast depending on the immediate environment. For example: I remember sitting in a class that took ages to get over even though it lasted for just as long as the others. I could listen to the lecture for about 10 minutes then sketch then sleep and then wake up and wonder what is happening for the last 10 minutes of class and then be in proper senses to answer questions like "John, were you sleeping because you are not well or you are not well because you were sleeping?". So, don’t you think it would be right to say that the pace of time ticking has a lot to do with the surroundings at that instant? Well I think it is right!&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;    The herd chose hangouts which suited this phenomenon rather well, we knew what pace we want time to tick at and our hangouts gave us just that pace. Park 99 was one of my favorites, simply because time ticked at my pace, most of the time, except for times when I had to complete assignments for the next hour (park 99 always betrayed me on that :( ) But then, who cares!!! I used to have a great time sleeping on dried leaves fallen on the roof of the sump in the shade of the berry tree.&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;    Park 99 is a place well equipped with an ultra large concrete trophy (a water tank) bundled with a pump house and the sump on which I always slept, a kid’s play area and lots of plants. These simple constructions provided for our adventure drives. Wondering how??? Hmmm… I think it is best to keep you wondering because I don’t want to reveal our little secrets to major fun!&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;    The water tank was not just used for providing water to the houses in the layout but also worked as our “how scared of dogs are you?” meter. Wondering how again?? Well this time I’ll tell you! There was this maid who occasionally got a German Shepard for a stroll. Now among the herd are two chicken :) These guys are really scared of dogs. They were like Laurel and Hardy with exchanged heights… one was lean and short (Boranna) and the other (PapaBear – the name says it :) ) was stout and tall. So, coming back to the dog in the park… when these guys sensed the dog’s presence, they would run straight for the ladder of the water tank and climb it in a wink. I’d never seen anyone climb ladders that quick. Boranna was the quicker of the two and would settle for nothing lesser than 25 feet above ground, PapaBear on the other hand would give up at about 10-15 feet, something high enough to stay away from the dog. So did this explanation help? It better have!&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;    I also remember spending quiet moments in the park… sleeping :) haha, not always though. There were times when I needed some time and a lot of quiet to sort out some things and park 99 helped me do just that. We friends spoke of all kinds of things from bikes to food, Loki’s attendance to Boranna’s weird interests, basically whiling out our time in perfect serenity. And what made things better was that no one other than us liked that park… so it was ours when ever we wanted to go there.&lt;br /&gt;`The only problem with this place was that we couldn't go there when we were hungry! But not to complain... as the park would have been crowded otherwise. :)&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;    Each of us friends may have different memories associated with this place, but for me it has a lot to do with helping me out with my decisions and of course the “how scared of dogs are you?” meter! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-116464688834663408?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/116464688834663408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=116464688834663408' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/116464688834663408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/116464688834663408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2006/11/park-99-memories-unfold.html' title='Park 99 - Memories unfold!'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-116248147682595804</id><published>2006-11-02T20:52:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-11-27T22:35:16.816+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The CISA newsletter crew!</title><content type='html'>“Aditya”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes”&lt;br /&gt;“Husain”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes”&lt;br /&gt;“John”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes”&lt;br /&gt;…..&lt;br /&gt;“Lohitaksha”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Lohitaksha”&lt;br /&gt;…..&lt;br /&gt;“Miloni”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes”&lt;br /&gt;“Hey! Did she call my name out?”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes Loki”&lt;br /&gt;“Mrinalini”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes”&lt;br /&gt;“Did she mark me present?”&lt;br /&gt;“Not sure Loki, don’t think so”&lt;br /&gt;“Ay what man!!!”&lt;br /&gt;“Nagesh”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK. Enough of all this; my butt is hurting now after sitting here for so long.&lt;br /&gt;“Hey Du, what say?”&lt;br /&gt;“What’s next?”&lt;br /&gt;“ACA”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh! Come let’s go.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ACA – the only subject where we had to read one sentence which ran into about ten lines of small print in a &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;big &lt;/span&gt;book and contained at least 15 technical words which were grouped together to make logical sense but practically impossible to remember.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Husain, what say?”&lt;br /&gt;“Hun, what?”&lt;br /&gt;“ACA next, want to come”&lt;br /&gt;“hmmmmm, OK”&lt;br /&gt;“Loki?”&lt;br /&gt;“Aaay…… you want to go now eh?”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes”&lt;br /&gt;“But what will you do?”&lt;br /&gt;“SL” (Stands for Silver Line)&lt;br /&gt;“Ay, you want to go eat now? Anyway it is lunch break after this!”&lt;br /&gt;“Let’s see”&lt;br /&gt;“Ay, let’s attend no! I have less attendance I think.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Loki’s doesn’t bunk to reach low attendance… he just forgets to answer, just the way he lost attendance in the previous period.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We’ll take care of that Loki”&lt;br /&gt;“Ay!!!”&lt;br /&gt;“Pack fast man!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Sir, we have to edit the next issue of the CISA newsletter. Can we leave now?”&lt;br /&gt;“OK”&lt;br /&gt;Attendance settled. Loki happy, so are we. This was just one of the small benefits of being in the good books of teachers. CISA by the way was the most direct abbreviation (and very sidey too) for Computer and Information Science Association. The only association which was run by us group of friends and got no assistance from the others in our class simply because we were considered snobs and arrogant people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile&lt;br /&gt;“Hello, Hey Sid we are bunking, get the others along”&lt;br /&gt;“OK”&lt;br /&gt;The same story said. The same result achieved.&lt;br /&gt;So much for the Compsci people. Now to get the tronics guys.&lt;br /&gt;“Hey Sunil, we are bunking, come let’s go.”&lt;br /&gt;“Ay no da!”&lt;br /&gt;“Why da?”&lt;br /&gt;“Boring da!”&lt;br /&gt;“Ay come da!”&lt;br /&gt;“Ay no”&lt;br /&gt;“Ay come da!”&lt;br /&gt;“Ay no da”&lt;br /&gt;“Ay come da!”&lt;br /&gt;“Ay no”&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;….&lt;br /&gt;“Ay come da!”&lt;br /&gt;“OK”&lt;br /&gt;That was the trick. All you need to do is be persistent or in other words… you need to say “come” just once more than his limit to say “no”.  :) Along with Sunil we also managed to pull the other folks from his class.&lt;br /&gt;So now we are about 8 article readers (ignoring the fact that there are only about three articles that are to be proofed), 1 layout designer, 2 typists and the remaining 3 for moral support!&lt;br /&gt;Say hi to the “Herd”&lt;br /&gt;And now that the newsletter crew (the "herd" more importantly) is together, what do we decide to do??? Sit on our bikes and scoot off to one of our regular addas, which, by the way, are not too difficult to find. These are our favorites: Food joints (&lt;a href="http://pensnswords.blogspot.com/2006/08/silver-line.html"&gt;“Silver Line” coded SL&lt;/a&gt;, “Shanti Sagar” coded SS) or nature. (“The limestone quarry” coded, simply, Quarry, and “The municipality park near SS coded “Park 99”)&lt;br /&gt;Now we didn’t get any bright idea to name that park “Park 99”… this is what you will find painted in big bold letters on the pump house which is inside the park.&lt;br /&gt;Wondering what exactly we did in the park?? Wait for the next post!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-116248147682595804?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/116248147682595804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=116248147682595804' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/116248147682595804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/116248147682595804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2006/11/cisa-newsletter-crew.html' title='The CISA newsletter crew!'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-116162311275599845</id><published>2006-10-23T22:32:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-10-24T16:53:14.016+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Kannada barattaa?</title><content type='html'>In view of the coming Holiday... November the 1st. Kannada Rajyotsava ( do we really need this holiday?)&lt;br /&gt;here it goes....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Tamil Nadu, the one place where every individual lands up building a vocabulary of at least a hundred words in Tamil ranging from the slang “po da” to the greeting more popular than good morning… “Saaptiaa?” Which means “had something to eat?” This is one place where the locals really love their language, culture and heritage and the thought of trying to learn a different language is the last thing on their mind.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I have a few friends who have been to Chennai and when I ask them how was their experience this is what they say: “These people don’t budge from speaking Tamil!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;On a wider angle, Delhiites don’t budge from Hindi: “Kyun, theek bola na?”, Bengalis from “tumi kemon achho?”, Keralites from “Yendada mone?” and Biharies from “Kaisan ho bituwa?”. Then there are Mumbaikars with a mixture of Hindi and Marathi, Hydrabadies with a mix of Urdu/Hindi and Telugu. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Any one who visits these places are bound to come back with a considerable vocabulary of the local language. The local language comes along with people like silver foil stuck on sweets (Sorry.. can’t help it… I just love food).&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;All this brings me to think about my land, and more specifically, my city, the garden city “&lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Bangalore&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;”. Every outside person who comes here does not face any language problem. They needn’t sweat it out to learn kannada or attend some rapid kannada speaking course. Given a span of three months a non kannadiga would learn a max of 30 words which include words like “Bartira?” (Will you come?), “Hogtira?” (Will you go?), “Yeshtu?” (How much?).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;All these words learnt widely because they can take you places, literally, if you want to use an auto to commute then you got to know these words and that’s where the need to know to speak kannada ends. The rest of the city just welcomes you with the language you know be it Hindi or Tamil.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ve been here in &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Bangalore&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; all my life. I’ve seen this place change and more importantly I’ve seen the use of kannada fade away with time. This place has gotten more cosmopolitan with locals speaking in tongues of outsiders. It has reached such an extent that kannadigas themselves don’t know kannada properly. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Why is it so? Is it because people think it is not cool to speak in kannada? Or is it simply great hospitality of us kannadigas to make our guests feel really comfortable by speaking their tongue? I think it has got to do with a bit of both. If it were not for the dislike of the language the Kannada film industry would not try imposing all kind of bans on movies of other languages or Kannada activists would not go around spraying black paint on English boards. This dislike for the language gives us more scope to learn other languages and what we pick up is greatly influenced by our surrounding, like the way I picked up some Tamil from my neighbors. No offence to the North Indians but they have greatly poisoned us with Hindi. Almost every person who has a North Indian as a friend takes great pain to learn to speak Hindi than let the other person learn kannada. The other part, hospitality of us kannadigas… well we are world famous in &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;India&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; for this :), which means that we love to make our guests feel at home. And what best a way than to let them use their language and we sacrifice ours. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It sounds good that we are cosmopolitan and all that stuff but if you look closely you will see that all the metros, the places that have been important trade centers in &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;India&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; for decades now have not lost their language, culture and heritage. &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Delhi&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;: people still speak Hindi all the time. &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Calcutta&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;: Bengali reigns. Mumbai: Marathi never dies out and Chennai: come rain, come snow, come Tsunami… Tamil will always survive. Then why is it that &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Bangalore&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; is in a hurry, a rat race to let away its culture and heritage? Is it good? &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;India&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; is known as “the land of many languages and cultures and rich in heritage”. But at the rate at which &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Bangalore&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; is going &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;India&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; will have the original "many- 1" languages, the culture and heritage might just last a little longer. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As a helpless and lazy individual all I can do is pray that we do not let things fade away as rapidly and work towards growing our roots deeper and keep our language and culture strong. Let us not let people put so much silver foil on us that our actual colour and flavour is lost. And more importantly let us learn to be proud of being Kanadigas.&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;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(By kannadigas I mean we the people of Karnataka and not just the Kannada speaking masses)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-116162311275599845?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/116162311275599845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=116162311275599845' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/116162311275599845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/116162311275599845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2006/10/kannada-barattaa.html' title='Kannada barattaa?'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-116101617623619804</id><published>2006-10-16T21:56:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-10-16T21:59:36.236+05:30</updated><title type='text'>My new template</title><content type='html'>Hey,&lt;br /&gt;I was getting mixed comments for my previous template that i decided to change it to something mellow. But I think there will always be a difference in opinion when they come from people with different tastes. My sis finds this new template cold and dead. She says it is lifeless and she really liked my old template. What bout the others?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-116101617623619804?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/116101617623619804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=116101617623619804' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/116101617623619804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/116101617623619804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2006/10/my-new-template.html' title='My new template'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-116101591736431559</id><published>2006-10-16T21:53:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-10-23T22:37:33.800+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Friday the 13th</title><content type='html'>For a long time now people have believed this crazy superstition that Friday the 13th is a day when one can expect hell to make its presence felt to him/her. We just happened to get through one of these days… &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;“October the 13th, 2006”&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t realize it until my friend pointed it out and then, from that very instant, I was on red alert taking care to see that I do not screw up any thing. The day went on with me on guard and nothing happened until about 5:00pm. I had totally forgotten about external factors that could make my day hell. I heard rumbling sounds coming from the roofing. Sounds like those of barrels being rolled on wooden flooring. I had no clue of what was going on. A loud thud broke my thought process of trying to figure out what could be the cause of the sound. It was crazy, a thud followed by the rumble again.&lt;br /&gt;I sprang out of my seat like a jack in the box, looked around, found nothing different, and looked up just to notice that one of the roofing panels had broken open. Things were getting scarier now. What was it up there that was so menacing?? What was it that had enough brains to get roofing panels off their supports??&lt;br /&gt;My first thought of answering that question went in the direction of tiny little evil creatures which have immense power, thanks to the novel “Darkness Comes” which I had read a few months back. It was a thought and it ended there, I don’t believe in black magic anyway. The rumbling continued, and this time it was even louder, loud enough to get some more jacks out of their box. We all wore a similar kind of expression, a distinctive scared and curious look.&lt;br /&gt;It was time we needed a brave knight or a wise magician or just about anyone who could save our souls from what we were experiencing. At that time another thought struck me… it was happening… &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Friday the 13th&lt;/span&gt; in all its horror. Well, we finally got someone brave enough who took measured steps to get under the opening. He peered into the darkness of the opening while we were praying that horror movies do not turn to reality in a place when adventure happens on a regular basis anyway. He looked around for some more time; we looked at his reactions trying to judge what could be in, and then spoke. “There are monkeys up there!” he said. And we were like… “What!!!”. “Lots of them!!” he said and moved away. That word “monkeys” released all the air stuck up in our lungs and we eased out.&lt;br /&gt;Yeiks!! Now this was turning interesting, monkeys doing monkey tricks in the roofing of the first floor of a four storied building. All I had on my mind was “How the hell did they get there???”&lt;br /&gt;The rumbling got louder, faster. We got the hint that the monkeys were now restless and trying their best to break free.&lt;br /&gt;We were asked to move out of our seats and go to some place safer. We chose to go near the pantry and be VIP observers as the house keeping guys came equipped with sticks. More and more panels started falling off, all in random places, the rumbling continued and we were enjoying seeing the house keeping guys try and get the monkeys out of there. All work had stopped and this gave way to relaxed minds creating jokes related to monkeys and all the happenings at that hour. A few colleagues of mine came up with employee ids, usernames and passwords for the monkeys. They also came up with a separate tab for the issue tracker with the tab named “Issues related to Monkesh”. They were having a gala time while the house keeping were sweating it out to get those menacing creatures out of the place.&lt;br /&gt;An hour passed by before we realized that the panels had stopped falling, the rumbling all silenced, the house keeping guys all confused. Where did the monkeys go after all??&lt;br /&gt;Good they found a way out of the roofing without being escorted through our work area otherwise we would find a crowd of civilized people behaving worse than monkeys.&lt;br /&gt;All this made considerable damage to my day. I had to wait an extra hour to end my day which meant that I would reach home real late and not have much time to do anything else but eat and sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-116101591736431559?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/116101591736431559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=116101591736431559' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/116101591736431559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/116101591736431559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2006/10/friday-13th.html' title='Friday the 13th'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-115754932693829499</id><published>2006-09-06T18:48:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-09-06T19:00:39.346+05:30</updated><title type='text'>55 words - The story in the making!</title><content type='html'>It started with the &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/22539677" target=_blank&gt;stargazer&lt;/a&gt; and reached &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/28255900" target=_blank&gt;el furibundo&lt;/a&gt;. and now it is with me to script this story's destiny. Here are my 55 words which continue the story that was left &lt;a href="http://lightspeedperspective.blogspot.com/2006/09/55-words-of-fiction.html" target=_blank&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------&lt;br /&gt;This question haunted him for years now and he decided to give it an end. He sat at the station thinking about what had just happened and about what he could do. No train, no name, a briefcase loaded with money and a life that seemed endless to live. He decided to change it all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one more of who we know to take this forward... so the &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/22539677" target=_blank&gt;stargazer&lt;/a&gt; gets it back to take this to new levels.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-115754932693829499?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/115754932693829499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=115754932693829499' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/115754932693829499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/115754932693829499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2006/09/55-words-story-in-making.html' title='55 words - The story in the making!'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-115695211771637585</id><published>2006-08-30T21:02:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-09-01T21:02:25.776+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The sense of superiority</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6:15pm: The bus starts off from my workplace.&lt;br /&gt;6:30pm: We join the tail of the never-ending traffic jam on hosur road (now all those who don’t use that road can stop feeling sorry for me. I’m used to it).&lt;br /&gt;6:45pm: We are moving (I think) somewhere on hosur road.&lt;br /&gt;7:00pm: We are still on hosur road.&lt;br /&gt;7:15pm: Yippee... we just got off Hosur road. So... how much distance did we cover??? 6km. Ok... let's try and make it look long... we traveled 6000 m. wow!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway... let’s carry on with the journey back home...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:20pm: people start queuing up near the door to get off the bus... Lucky guys... they have finished with the bus journey...&lt;br /&gt;7:25pm: the bus if getting empty, lots more people have reached their destinations.&lt;br /&gt;7:30pm: we're at this traffic junction and some more people line up waiting for the bus to take a turn and stop so that they can get off the bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now... this is where the actual content of this post starts... :)&lt;br /&gt;The bus takes the turn and then, following tradition, stops bang in the middle of the road a little further away from the junction. The first guy getting off looks to avoid any passing vehicles and gets off. The next guy almost follows when this tempo which was behind the bus tries to overtake from the left and almost knocks off the guy. Seeing all this our bus driver, the oh so civilized guy, starts swearing to the tempo driver. Now... who is at fault? Is it the tempo driver for trying to use that available space to the left of the bus to go ahead? Or is it the bus driver for using his brains to stop in the middle of the road.&lt;br /&gt;Well at that point of time... I was just amused at the way the bus driver was swearing to the tempo driver.&lt;br /&gt;What is it that made the bus driver think that he was right and the tempo driver was wrong?? I think it's got to do with the sense of superiority. The bus driver thinks he is superior to the tempo driver so he cannot be wrong, the driver of a luxury bus feels superior to a BMTC bus driver coz he is not driving yet another of those regular busses... so on and so forth.&lt;br /&gt;If superiority can make a person go blind to the mistakes he is making, then who is responsible to correct the mistakes this guy made which is the root cause in the first place?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-115695211771637585?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/115695211771637585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=115695211771637585' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/115695211771637585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/115695211771637585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2006/08/sense-of-superiority.html' title='The sense of superiority'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-115669897471208132</id><published>2006-08-27T21:54:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2007-09-29T11:55:55.716+05:30</updated><title type='text'>My Sketches...</title><content type='html'>Well... i thought I'll use this platform to show off some of my sketches.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not all that good at pencil sketching but then... who is perfect ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click on the images to see them in more detail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://static.flickr.com/83/226156067_751508b779_b.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10pt 10px 0px; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1639/3503/320/Village1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My first sketch...&lt;br /&gt;I remember my dad had got this pencil sketches book for my younger sister... I was looking at all the sketches in it and came across this one. Something in me told me that i need to try my hand at sketching this (till date i only drew in my prac books). I started off after dinner and this being my first sketch i took a lot of time to finish it... but i didn't give up... simply because i saw that what i was sketching was quiet close to the original. I finally finished the sketch at 2 in the night and was really pleased with what i had accomplished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://static.flickr.com/72/226145166_2defdf0943_b.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1639/3503/320/Tarzan2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I had seen this on the pencil box of one of my friends and wanted to sketch it. We were new to college then and I didn't have the guts to sketch in class. I took the box from my friend and told him that i would return it when i finished with the sketching.  I  really appreciate him for his patience... he didn't get his box back for the next 2 months but still didn't mind. :)&lt;br /&gt;No... i didn't take 2 months to sketch it... it took me 2 months to get into the mood to sketch it :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://static.flickr.com/85/226145165_ff448a3cfb_b.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1639/3503/320/TArzan1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I just love animated movies, cartoons, anything animated for that matter. Tarzan is one of my favorite animated movies. I've sketched quiet a lot of Tarzan... i had also reached a stage where i started sketching Tarzan on one of the walls in my room... but then... the mom factor came in and Tarzan had to be rubbed off the wall :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://static.flickr.com/86/226145164_8af02770a5_b.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1639/3503/320/SunRays.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sketching this was quiet a task... getting to understand sun rays through clouds was fun. I still stare at the evening skies trying to master the way sun rays break through the clouds.&lt;br /&gt;Now don't think that I sketched this off my imagination... i'm not that good an artist yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://static.flickr.com/63/226145162_c32b7c2289_b.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1639/3503/320/Ship.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One of my very first sketches.&lt;br /&gt;Got nothing much to say bout this sketch... i used to pick up anything i felt like sketching and would start off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://static.flickr.com/67/226145161_0fda70b88b_b.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1639/3503/320/lake.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The one place where all us friends relate to. Every time we felt like going out of this urban rush and commotion we would ride down to this place... "the lake" as we call it. If you ask me which is my best sketch I'd say this one. Why? because I just love this place and also because i sketched this sitting at home (purely based out of how well i know the lake) and to tell you the truth... this is exactly how it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://static.flickr.com/58/226145159_ddeeff1d3b_b.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1639/3503/320/Batman.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As i got older in college i became better in creative art than in studies.... this is one of the products of my precious time in class.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-115669897471208132?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/115669897471208132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=115669897471208132' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/115669897471208132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/115669897471208132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2006/08/my-sketches_27.html' title='My Sketches...'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-115617667474474575</id><published>2006-08-21T21:40:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-08-21T22:06:30.270+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Achievers</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Life… one word among the many others for which people do not have a definite answer. If you look up a dictionary for the meaning of life you will find a whole lot of entries which mean different things... I think this is quite strong a fact to prove that no one has agreed on one definition of life. Life is like this one super dish which is made using lots of ingredients (I’m just too obsessed with food so that explains why I chose to explain life with a dish&lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;). One small ingredient of life is achievement. All through life you have to perform to achieve something you’ve always wanted and people who make it through the struggle are called Achievers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;“&lt;b style=""&gt;Achiever&lt;/b&gt;” according to me is one powerful motivator on its own. For example: we are always inspired by achievers and want to be like them or if we tell a person he is not an achiever and you will find a new zeal in him to outperform his competitors.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But is the motivation alone enough for anyone to become an achiever? I don’t think so. According to me there are two main things a person has to have if he wants to be an achiever. They are &lt;b style=""&gt;A Goal&lt;/b&gt; and most importantly &lt;b style=""&gt;Determination&lt;/b&gt;. And why do I think so… I don’t think achievement comes by you way when you walk on any random path of life… you need to know where you are heading. Having a goal is relatively easy compared to being determined to achieve it. You can consider determination as the fuel in your car when you are on a highway without a refill for miles to come. Almost every person you meet has a goal, but what separates achievers from the common beings is determination. Without a determination that lasts till you reach your goal is of no use coz you are then stranded in the middle of the highway without any fuel and to make things worse you are not sure of what to do (go back to where you came from or stay where you are hoping that someone will help you reach your destination someday).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;There is no conclusion to this post... i've yet to figure that out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-115617667474474575?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/115617667474474575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=115617667474474575' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/115617667474474575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/115617667474474575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2006/08/achievers.html' title='Achievers'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-115574784180845053</id><published>2006-08-16T22:31:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-08-16T22:34:01.816+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Crazy mood again</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hi again... :)&lt;br /&gt;everytime  i look at my blog i feel  like posting something more.&lt;br /&gt;So eventhough i have nothing to tell you about...  here's  a  post :P.&lt;br /&gt;Now explain this mood of mine! :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-115574784180845053?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/115574784180845053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=115574784180845053' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/115574784180845053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/115574784180845053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2006/08/crazy-mood-again.html' title='Crazy mood again'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-115574642750697552</id><published>2006-08-16T21:43:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-08-27T21:22:21.630+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Happy... but why?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The eve of Independence Day was one of those days when I was all hale and hearty and was ready to try out anything that came my way. I don’t really know why I was in such a mood. I was just too happy (I think) about something. It was like one of those moods when I felt I had nothing to worry about, I had no problems in life and all my dreams (I don’t know which dreams too :P) were coming true. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Du was surprised at my mood. I can't blame him... coz I was surprised too.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know if you have ever experienced such a thing but it feels really good to be in one of those moods.&lt;br /&gt;Now someone help me out with this... Is there always a reason for a mood  a  person is in?&lt;br /&gt;And if there is... then I am lost as usual :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-115574642750697552?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/115574642750697552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=115574642750697552' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/115574642750697552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/115574642750697552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2006/08/happy-but-why.html' title='Happy... but why?'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-115548909994160425</id><published>2006-08-13T22:32:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2006-08-27T20:33:11.223+05:30</updated><title type='text'>3 Days Apart</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;How does one get to know their future???&lt;br /&gt;These are our options...&lt;br /&gt;1) Consult these astrologers who have no clue of their own future and want to go around speaking about someone else’s days to come.&lt;br /&gt;2) Get to meet that wise little parrot who picks a card depending on its mood. Well, if a parrot knows our future then why aren't they worshiped like Gods?&lt;br /&gt;3) Get hold of a time machine which shows you your future. There are movies based on this theory: Minority Report and Pay Check are some of the many movies on this theme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Now, I don't trust an astrologer (&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;according to one such guy I was supposed to be something more like a looser&lt;/span&gt;); and a parrot doesn't look too convincing an option. The only option left out is a time machine which I think exist only in movies (&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;and the saddest part is that these machines were destroyed in the movie itself :( otherwise I might just have considered getting hold of one haha&lt;/span&gt;). But then I still get to know what's in store for me at least a month in advance. And how is that... It’s because Du and I were born "3 Days Apart". I know I know... you think I’ve gone mad, but it’s true. Anything that has happened in our individual lives has sooner or later happened to the other. Be it goof ups in college, getting called to the princy's office for the stupidest of reasons, job offers, interview calls, what not. If something significant has happened in his life then you can be rest assured that it has happened in my life too not necessarily with the same magnitude though.&lt;br /&gt;   Still not convinced??? Ok let me tell you why I believe it... &lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it happened once: no one including me would have looked at it seriously.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twice: may be we could call it coincidence&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thrice: stunning coincidence&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anything beyond that: now that's where the count lies. Actually... we've lost count. :P&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Ever since we noticed that our lives follow this so called "one month + or -" rule (which is I think 3 years old now) the belief in it has just grown simply because it has worked ever since. No matter how much we try to avoid the situation in which the other was (in cases when the end result has not been pleasant) we still face the same situation sooner or later (one month + or -).&lt;br /&gt;   I bet you are wondering why this post isn't called "one month + or -" or something on those lines... it's because we believe that all that has happened in our lives, one month + or -, is simply because we were born "3 Days Apart" :)&lt;br /&gt;   Now coming to who is "Du"... well, he's a buffalo brain :) , that's what i call him :P He's  a really nice guy who patiently listens to whatever you have to say and then says "okkkkk..." (not always) before he says what he has to say :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers to our friendship!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-115548909994160425?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/115548909994160425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=115548909994160425' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/115548909994160425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/115548909994160425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2006/08/3-days-apart_13.html' title='3 Days Apart'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32343423.post-115497361226642754</id><published>2006-08-07T22:50:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-08-27T20:30:21.820+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Kickoff!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I've always wondered why people have this extra bit of emotion when they do or experience something for the first time, be it the first day at college or the first time they write a post for that matter. From my past experiences of "first times" I think there are either of two major emotions which tag along... either joy, when you've won a race for the first time ever and you are about to step on the podium (the thing you always dreamt of standing on), or fear, on that first day of attending college, the students of which have set high standards in ragging. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This being my first attempt at creating and managing my blog, I have this slight feeling of joy coz this is something new to me and I’ve been wanting to do this for quiet some time now but was pure lazy. I don’t really know what you guys are destined to read on visiting this page but one thing is for sure... don't come here with an expectation... coz there is total chaos on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);font-size:85%;" &gt;"My side of the fence"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32343423-115497361226642754?l=mysideofdfence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/feeds/115497361226642754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32343423&amp;postID=115497361226642754' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/115497361226642754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32343423/posts/default/115497361226642754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysideofdfence.blogspot.com/2006/08/kickoff.html' title='Kickoff!'/><author><name>Sketcher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11864921441796134821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K9NKzXb3g/SoXvVrkYbxI/AAAAAAAAF1g/_SdxUqhn4Xc/S220/DSC_0652.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
