<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244</id><updated>2009-12-24T07:44:06.622-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Silent Eloquence</title><subtitle type='html'>The night looms large and under its cover, souls stir, contrive and conspire...then comes ARUNIMA-the glow of dawn</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>355</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-5825743716276325479</id><published>2009-12-12T22:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T08:29:51.125-08:00</updated><title type='text'>earth without maps</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;"My darling. I'm waiting for you. How long is the day in the dark? Or a week? The fire is gone, and I'm horribly cold. I really should drag myself outside but then there'd be the sun. I'm afraid I waste the light on the paintings, not writing these words. We die. We die rich with lovers and tribes, tastes we have swallowed, bodies we've entered and swum up like rivers. Fears we've hidden in - like this wretched cave. I want all this marked on my body. Where the real countries are. Not boundaries drawn on maps with the names of powerful men. I know you'll come carry me out to the Palace of Winds. That's what I've wanted: to walk in such a place with you. With friends, on an earth without maps. The lamp has gone out and I'm writing in the darkness."&lt;/span&gt; Katharine in &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0116209/"&gt;The English Patient &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;looks like I'll have just one more post this year, a 'goodbye 2009' post. I am indulging in many other things other than blogging though I know, I'll always come back here.&lt;br /&gt;Lot's of things happening in my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-5825743716276325479?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/5825743716276325479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=5825743716276325479' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/5825743716276325479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/5825743716276325479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/12/earth-without-maps.html' title='earth without maps'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-2497923900455518100</id><published>2009-10-29T20:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T06:54:11.483-07:00</updated><title type='text'>oh, i have a blog</title><content type='html'>self-pity and me don't go together. I was bedridden for sometime. felt terrible as the life partner, husband in other words, had to work long hours and I was left to myself. watched a lot of movies one after the other, in the laptop without getting out of bed. Those Kate and Leopold, a walk in the clouds, PS I love you, Someone like you, Forever young, romantic movies of my generation, I must say. Then I went on to the Lord of the rings series. I watched about 30 movies and then finally got bored and jumped out of bed, and started going back to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, there is work and more work. There are calls which goes on till 9.30 pm while he still continues to come late. There is no work-life balance, but a great work-work balance between S' and mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there was 'Ethnic day' celebration at work. We were announced that we would win prizes. I went as colourful as a peacock in my ethnic dress. Didn't know where the judges were and ended up not winning. We just got a mail that two ladies have won. They just wore some &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i&lt;/span&gt;, mine was intricate and difficult to manage and ...peacock colourful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope the winners are not reading this. I hope the judges are reading this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, sad and heartbroken, I overdosed on the sweets that the company gave. Man, I just wanted to die!&lt;br /&gt;But all was not lost. I made a colleague buy me chocolate. He is on the 5&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; floor and I sit in the 2&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; floor. He pinged me saying that he wanted to see me in my traditional dress. I said, buy me a chocolate and come. He did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I have lost my negotiation skills with men after getting married, but well, it is like never forgetting how to swim.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-2497923900455518100?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/2497923900455518100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=2497923900455518100' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/2497923900455518100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/2497923900455518100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/10/oh-i-have-blog.html' title='oh, i have a blog'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-5765091653882192482</id><published>2009-09-29T06:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T06:40:17.977-07:00</updated><title type='text'>and sometimes you bleed</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And sometimes, you bleed just to know you are alive.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am puking, i am crying, i am bleeding,&lt;br /&gt;until i am left with no strength&lt;br /&gt;it is not just the pain, it is also the fear that it may take away my dreams, bleed them away forever...&lt;br /&gt;i curl up to a ball as if this would help me stop my insides from tearing apart&lt;br /&gt;you look at me concerned, while i look at you through the excruciating pain, knowing you cannot bear half the pain that i am going through&lt;br /&gt;my insides turn, they ache and scream,&lt;br /&gt;my heart pounds everywhere, louder than ever&lt;br /&gt;As you hold me tight, i know i am not ready to die...no, not... just... yet&lt;br /&gt;perhaps, the dreams will take wings again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-5765091653882192482?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/5765091653882192482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=5765091653882192482' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/5765091653882192482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/5765091653882192482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/09/and-sometimes-you-bleed.html' title='and sometimes you bleed'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-803206505702910770</id><published>2009-09-18T01:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T01:25:54.143-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I want some drama</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;squint your eyes and look closer&lt;br /&gt;I'm not between you and your ambition&lt;br /&gt;I am a poster girl with no poster&lt;br /&gt;I am thirty-two flavors and then some&lt;br /&gt;and I'm beyond your peripheral vision&lt;br /&gt;so you might want to turn your head&lt;br /&gt;cause someday you're going to get hungry&lt;br /&gt;and eat most of the words you just said&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else do you expect in life after having a good job and a good husband? Mom and my mother-in-law will reply 'a child' i am sure, but that is not my point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I need some drama in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather is so nice right now that I am nostalgic and wish to go home. The thought of going home puts me in a dilemma. I don't know 'home' means in-laws' place or mom's place and what kind of scheming or debating i must go through to stay where i want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wonder what 'value add' marriage has brought in my life other than some more responsibilities. hmph!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My English teacher in 6th standard explained asparagus to be something that we eat in my state, called '&lt;a href="http://www.flowersofindia.net/catalog/slides/East%20Indian%20Arrowroot.html"&gt;Yaipan&lt;/a&gt;' in the local dialect. (We make pakoras and some curry out of it. ) I did a Google search a couple of years back to realise that what we eat is not asparagus, but something else. It is another form of arrowroot and not asparagus. Those were the days when we had no internet and teachers could say anything they wanted, and Amrika was so far away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking about Amrika, i am going to Tamil Nadu to meet my brother and his family. They are settled there. If I can talk about Amrika, i can talk about Tamil Nadu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and some colleagues wanted to visit Goa. I have been wishing to visit this place while S feels it is overhyped. &lt;em&gt;I had even started imagining myself walking on the beach, promenading peacefully under a blamelessly blue sky, drinking Fenny or some fruit juice.&lt;/em&gt; One by one the colleagues dropped out and one male colleague and I were left. &lt;em&gt;Knowing that our respective spouses are not so kind to allow just the two of us go ahead, Goa got shelved.&lt;/em&gt; Now, I have to beg S to take me by December at least. How much pride I had in announcing that I am off to Goa with colleagues!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I am off to TN to meet the nephew. I am giving some bonding time to S and pa-in-law (ma-in-law has left). Let the father-son duo gossip about women if they want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;and god help you if you are an ugly girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;course too pretty is also your doom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;cause everyone harbors a secret hatred&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;for the prettiest girl in the room&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;and god help you if you are a pheonix&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;and you dare to rise up from the ash&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;a thousand eyes will smolder with jealousy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;while you are just flying back&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;I'm not trying to give my life meaning by demeaning you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;and I would like to state for the record&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;I did everything that I could do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;I'm not saying that I'm a saint &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;I just don't want to live that way no, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;I will never be a saint but I will always say~ 32 Flavours, Ani Difranco. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-803206505702910770?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/803206505702910770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=803206505702910770' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/803206505702910770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/803206505702910770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-want-some-drama.html' title='I want some drama'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-8802642967072871499</id><published>2009-09-12T22:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T23:38:34.775-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It cannot get more eventful</title><content type='html'>i did not understand why Karnataka, a BJP-ruled government declared a state holiday when the AP CM expired. is it because our airport is so far away that AP has been considering that it is theirs and since our airport can be part of AP, AP can be part of Karnataka? This doesn't make sense? then, please explain the holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, i am going to start house-hunting again. yeah, it is a good way to spend your weekends. call up and visit one or two projects, come back and sleep over it. i am seriously planning to start another blog and review the projects. i have seen at least 60 to 70 projects in Bangalore.&lt;br /&gt;The last time, we had finalised on a project and almost booked it. Suddenly, S' company stopped paying his salary. Bah, we were prepared for a salary cut, but 'no salary' was life-altering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had to change the game plan. From house-hunting to job-hunting, and this mental shift was really difficult for me. i braced myself to be the sole income earner for a few months. i was stressed that i shopped a lot. got some 6 pairs of new shoes and a lot of clothes during those months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my organization started to play ping pong. re-org after re-org happened and i am in a new project with a new person under a new manager. Then the family played sick-sick. First it was ma-in-law and S, then pa-in-law. The baton was passed back and forth, until it reached me. With the Swine flu scare around, the past few months have been only about visiting the doctor every other weekend. i feel like writing about the experiences with the different docs that we visited too, but let me save it for another day. i only know, life has been really eventful these past months and i am going to start house-hunting again. jai hind!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-8802642967072871499?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/8802642967072871499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=8802642967072871499' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/8802642967072871499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/8802642967072871499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/09/it-cannot-get-more-eventful.html' title='It cannot get more eventful'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-1550753054371342382</id><published>2009-08-25T04:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T04:50:31.679-07:00</updated><title type='text'>gulf_michael</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-9ac6f8a71711e676" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.blogger.com/img/videoplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvp.video.google.com%2Fvideodownload%3Fversion%3D0%26secureurl%3DqAAAAOF-u9WtopylwZ9XHAqIS4TcGLTQkbl2sPB8WiWWCpH-pn6yrkxpTO8f8dQ9Yf04snzGlOqukE8hiwGNVplTICGT0z33FS0gXbBlr93ioREDfSY_u4nd4ts9GDhiy2uXJZjF6Lq8DzK-MkFb9fakSdcyd_hRazQjuG_AlM7p3E7PYZttjTzrICN1W1sjfEfcOdU8OcGX_0vo2o4Agy20zEMn-bSy_LbWMdFP3jsoqLSL%26sigh%3DXsZ3M_B-aFSESIM9WYlom_F1mY0%26begin%3D0%26len%3D86400000%26docid%3D0&amp;amp;nogvlm=1&amp;amp;thumbnailUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D9ac6f8a71711e676%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3D26qWtd6nOel6cMfmzhvi4RtVrlc&amp;amp;messagesUrl=video.google.com%2FFlashUiStrings.xlb%3Fframe%3Dflashstrings%26hl%3Den"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.blogger.com/img/videoplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvp.video.google.com%2Fvideodownload%3Fversion%3D0%26secureurl%3DqAAAAOF-u9WtopylwZ9XHAqIS4TcGLTQkbl2sPB8WiWWCpH-pn6yrkxpTO8f8dQ9Yf04snzGlOqukE8hiwGNVplTICGT0z33FS0gXbBlr93ioREDfSY_u4nd4ts9GDhiy2uXJZjF6Lq8DzK-MkFb9fakSdcyd_hRazQjuG_AlM7p3E7PYZttjTzrICN1W1sjfEfcOdU8OcGX_0vo2o4Agy20zEMn-bSy_LbWMdFP3jsoqLSL%26sigh%3DXsZ3M_B-aFSESIM9WYlom_F1mY0%26begin%3D0%26len%3D86400000%26docid%3D0&amp;amp;nogvlm=1&amp;amp;thumbnailUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D9ac6f8a71711e676%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3D26qWtd6nOel6cMfmzhvi4RtVrlc&amp;amp;messagesUrl=video.google.com%2FFlashUiStrings.xlb%3Fframe%3Dflashstrings%26hl%3Den" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-1550753054371342382?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=9ac6f8a71711e676&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/1550753054371342382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=1550753054371342382' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/1550753054371342382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/1550753054371342382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/08/gulfmichael.html' title='gulf_michael'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-2936858666060268728</id><published>2009-08-19T02:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T07:40:32.156-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tags'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personal'/><title type='text'>A to Z tag</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://amitsmusings.blogspot.com/"&gt;AmitL&lt;/a&gt; tagged me(thank you, ji)to do this A to Z tag, and here goes:&lt;br /&gt;A. Attached or Single?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Attached. It was ‘Confused’ for quite some time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B. Best Friend?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;My group of childhood friends from school and J.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C: Cake or pie?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Both, occasionally.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D. Drink of choice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Black tea with lime, black coffee, cold coffee, vodka with a dash of lime, and fresh fruit juices.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E. Essential item you use every day?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Water, food, clothes, bathroom items etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F. Favorite color?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Depends on the mood, but I like red.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G. Gummy bears or worms?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;what the *beep* !:-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;H. Hometown?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Imphal- I might retire there. Indulge in gardening and teach children.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I. Favorite indulgence?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Blogging when I am not supposed to. (get the hint)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;J. January or July?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;January, of course. It is my birth month. It is winter and the dishes are yum that time of the year at home, though winter is not my favorite season.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K. Kids &amp;amp; their names?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Lubentina, the greek goddess of garden.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L. Life isn’t complete without?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Some music. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;To add to this, marriage is not complete without the mom-in-law. :-) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M. Marriage date?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Well, wanted it to be 07-07-07. We were chased out as we did not have all the papers. :-) Then we got married and after that I forgot. Marriage makes you forgetful. What did you ask?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;N. Number of Siblings?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;2 big brothers and 1 big sister. Big family, happy family! :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O. Oranges or Apples?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Both and some more. The HR in my ex org kept on telling me, comparing the two BUs that I worked for is like comparing an orange and an apple. I left the organization because I didn’t get what she was saying. ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P. Phobias?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;I am afraid of the dark.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. Quotes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;“They laugh at me cos I am different. I laugh at them cos they are all the same.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R. Reasons to smile?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;love, life, health, internal peace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S. Season?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Spring and rainy season. Love the new leaves and flowers. Love the smell of wet earth. Reminds me of childhood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T. Tag people:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Anyone reading this post and finding the tag interesting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;U. Unknown fact about me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;I was adopted. No, I am lying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;V. Vegetable?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;potato, tomato, onion. (my essentials)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;W. Worst habit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Biting nails (not any more). Running to the pick-up point every morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;X. X-ray you've had?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;back&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y. Your favorite food?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Not particular, but I like egg curry and Indianised Chinese food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Z. Zodiac sign?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Capricorn. Am I cool or what! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-2936858666060268728?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/2936858666060268728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=2936858666060268728' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/2936858666060268728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/2936858666060268728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/08/to-z-tag.html' title='A to Z tag'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-7843095844132235716</id><published>2009-07-30T23:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T23:43:05.597-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personal'/><title type='text'>Time to Opine</title><content type='html'>While I opine about the situation I am in; because of the in-laws, I had forgotten that the summer is almost over and left to myself, I would have anyway worn the clothes that I am forced to wear because of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saw the partner who comes home much later than me, eat happily, chit chat with parents, giggle with me in bed, and somehow find time to do the things that he loves to do- read a book or watch a movie, and I realize how much complacent I have become or how busy I was, feeling busy. I am sure he must be getting good sleep too, while I worry myself bald and worry over the baldness again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am friends with a lady who sell vegetables. I am her regular customer. Yes, I am good at it- relationships (I think). She is 26, younger than me and has 3 kids. 2 daughters and a son. Sometimes, I give her a little extra money; sometimes she gives me a little more vegetable. I gave her son; the clothes that I had intended to gift my nephew and keep telling her not to have another child. She smiles and keeps saying ‘yes’. I suddenly notice her stomach bulge again. She covers it with her sari if she sees me. Don’t know if I am imagining. I often ignore her smile, and start to worry about her, about the kids, the world, population, pollution, and wonder if I’d ever want to have a child of my own. She seems to be ever-smiling through it all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-7843095844132235716?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/7843095844132235716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=7843095844132235716' title='30 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/7843095844132235716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/7843095844132235716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/07/time-to-opine.html' title='Time to Opine'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>30</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-6767352252948184289</id><published>2009-07-27T01:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T03:15:29.853-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hangover'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun-at-work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='office-office'/><title type='text'>At the cafeteria and some hangover</title><content type='html'>At the cafeteria, I noticed a lady wearing a slogan T shirt. I nudged my colleague and said, “look at that”. My colleague asked me, &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;“Is my bum as big as her’s?”&lt;/span&gt; Now, for opening my mouth, I was forced to compare and contrast two things, which were not objects of my desire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Moral of the story:&lt;/span&gt; Be specific about what you are pointing out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will not talk about the movie, &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1119646/"&gt;The Hangover&lt;/a&gt;. I am sure many of you would have already watched it or are in the process of downloading it. I am going to talk about the object of my attention, S’ hangover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once, we partied at a friends’ place. We normally stay back at their place or they stay back at our place if we drink at night. After downing some pegs of old monk and vodka and waxing eloquent on Richard Dawkins and Statistical modeling, S got up, washed his plate and declared he is sleepy and wanted to call it a day. Later, in the middle of the night, he cuddled up and asked me if he had dinner and what did we have for dinner. He knew that I was his wife (unfortunately! :-) ) and that we were at his friends place, but he had no recollection of events after the 3rd peg. It freaked me out. He came home and researched on the net to see if there have been similar cases, and some people wrote that they don’t remember what happened for 3 days at a stretch. In the movie, at least they were under the influence of drugs. I told S not to drink when I am not around and not to exceed 2 pegs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since this is my blog, let me stop with what I said/ordered/instructed and not add what he replied.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-6767352252948184289?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/6767352252948184289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=6767352252948184289' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/6767352252948184289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/6767352252948184289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/07/at-cafeteria-and-some-hangover.html' title='At the cafeteria and some hangover'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-6743678904203556143</id><published>2009-07-22T21:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T01:34:12.728-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='short stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>The bubble wrap</title><content type='html'>As I waited for him at the airport, I went back in time to recollect if we had ever hugged. We had been friends from a very long time, but beyond the high fives and the pats on the back, we had never really touched each other. Oh yes, we had. We held hands in a school play. Thank God, I was the girl and he was the guy. Considering the way I was, I could have very much acted as a guy too. I have portrayed the role of a drunkard with élan and the trophy at home is witness to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have hugged my boyfriends, I mean my friends who are boys, but I guess I have been a little reserved towards him from the beginning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, I could see his head and then the trolley. At one glance he saw me, and pushed the trolley towards me. Now that we were a couple, suddenly, I felt shy. Is there a phrase ‘shyly excited’ or ‘excitedly shy’? I was feeling that. He proposed me from across the miles and I accepted. It was inevitable in some way and somehow, I knew it all along that this is going to happen though I had dated other people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A meek ‘hi!’ escaped from my lips and I just smiled. Had it been any other time, we would have been in a group shouting and cheering. His friends would have asked him which poison has he bought and then gang up to finish it. I remember us converting the dollars to rupees. If somebody used to spill a drop of the drink, we used to say that 50 Rs is gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We headed towards their apartment. It was the same place where I had met his gang of friends, the gang whom I named albeit fondly, the Trophy gang. They had this habit of lining up empty bottles-alcohol, deodorants, water, coke, and even ash-trays, as if they were some trophy. It was the same place where we had strummed the guitar and sang ourselves hoarse. I am sure the boys had their own pet peeves for having to run and get dressed, to look decent when a girl was visiting unannounced, while they laid nonchalantly in their bare basics on a hot summer day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met M in the apartment. Came to know B had moved out with his girlfriend in another flat and C had moved with his sister. M will be married in another 3 months and he decided to retain the flat. So, he would be staying with M for a month. The gang would be coming in the evening again I was told.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The room was suddenly quiet. I didn’t know what to do and took a bubble wrap from one of his gift items, and started bursting one by one. He took it from my hands suddenly and gave me his palm. He asked me to read his palm as I had often boasted of knowing palmistry. I played along. I traced the lines of his palm with all seriousness knowing very well, the trap. This was not a handshake; this was not our high fives, this was the first touch of new lovers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-6743678904203556143?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/6743678904203556143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=6743678904203556143' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/6743678904203556143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/6743678904203556143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/07/bubble-wrap.html' title='The bubble wrap'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-3043543136554162660</id><published>2009-07-15T22:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T22:26:42.058-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun-at-work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='review'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='team'/><title type='text'>The Proposal</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I remember coming back to the hostel after watching ‘&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0212346/"&gt;Miss Congeniality&lt;/a&gt;’ and taking another 1 and half hours to narrate scene by scene to J, some even with actions. I was a good crapologist and J giggled through it all. I miss her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watched &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1041829/"&gt;The Proposal&lt;/a&gt; at the Fame, Lido (road is damn congested because of the metro coming up). Enjoyed it thoroughly even though it is a candy floss cliché filled rom-com. You know the ending, you know the story but the journey was fun-filled and had us in splits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story is simple: devil boss, enterprising subordinate, boss proposes marriages to save her a*se, plays romantic couple to convince people and family, falls in love, happy ending. Sandra Bullock plays Margaret, another version of the devil boss like Meryl Streep &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0458352/"&gt;did&lt;/a&gt;, but she manages to come on her own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan Reynolds had lovely comic timing and facial expressions. The grandma was just amazing. Her jungle dance to thank the mother earth and then Sandra joining her in the act was too funny. There is another funny scene on the wedding dress with the grandma and I will not spoil it by talking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The office scenes were good. She is referred as ‘it’ by the staff and they flash messages to each other. I won’t tell where, but we once had a group chat in the team against the boss. Hence, the unity of the staff and the scenes made me laugh a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked for a small firm once and we did not get internet connectivity for all the 9 hours at work. We used to tell the system admin to let us know when it was connected without the boss’ knowledge. The sys admin would come out and rotate his finger in the air. That was the sign we had been waiting for. Immediately, we would jump and open yahoo mail (this was the most popular those days) and browse for the next 45 minutes. It felt like heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will write about some fun-at-work moments someday. Coming back to the movie, it is paisa vasool. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Glossary: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Crapologist:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;One who specializes in handing out crap but presents it in such a fashion that it appears to be fact (Courtesy: Urban Dictionary)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-3043543136554162660?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/3043543136554162660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=3043543136554162660' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/3043543136554162660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/3043543136554162660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/07/proposal.html' title='The Proposal'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-30450670649203319</id><published>2009-07-12T22:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T22:51:22.929-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quote for the day</title><content type='html'>“&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;MILs are just so harmless and nice. You just have to do whatever they say&lt;/span&gt;.” &lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;~ Arunima, Blogger. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-30450670649203319?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/30450670649203319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=30450670649203319' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/30450670649203319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/30450670649203319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/07/quote-for-day.html' title='Quote for the day'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-6988277905685114416</id><published>2009-07-04T22:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T21:51:26.042-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my Einstein brains at the Antakshari</title><content type='html'>We were shown a clip. The clip just before the song,"hal kesa hai janab ka". I have not been watching Tv so, I am quite rusted when it comes to visuals. There were negative markings too. We had to pass or give the correct song. My colleague knew the name of the movie and couldn't really recollect the song and went on saying,"yaar, ye wo phisalne wala gaana hai" again and again.  You know what my Einstein brains started visualising that moment? Jack and Jill tumbling down. Yes, it was a hindi-movies-only Antakshari and the word 'phisalna' conjured up the image of Jack and Jill to me and nothing else. &lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;We scored zero in that round.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next was an audio-visual round. A video of a scene before a song would be played but the sound track of another movie would be in the background. We got the first video and the song right, which was from Golmal. The background audio was from Gupt. We identified the movie, but gave the wrong song. Most of Gupt's songs start with similar music and it was tough to identify the difference in 10 secs. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;We scored zero in this round again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Therefore, we lost&lt;/span&gt;. We led until the 5th round out of 7. Had a chance until the last round, but ended up 3rd or 4th. (doesn't matter as we were not runner's up either). A team that almost got eliminated won. Charged up with all the songs starting with 'u' and 'th', I sat and perhaps, went on sitting. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;High points:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We won an award for having the &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;most innovative team name&lt;/span&gt;, which was "&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Galle me khitch khitch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;". Yours truly gave the name against some team mates resisting it. Other teams had sur, jhankar beats etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a lot of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got complimented for having a good voice from some people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-6988277905685114416?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/6988277905685114416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=6988277905685114416' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/6988277905685114416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/6988277905685114416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-einstein-brains-at-antakshari.html' title='my Einstein brains at the Antakshari'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-1324763319060441419</id><published>2009-06-29T21:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T21:14:07.338-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Help!</title><content type='html'>We have an Antakshari competition coming up. I don't tweet and so, I have to blog it.&lt;br /&gt;Please help me with songs that start with 'th' like 'thori' or U, as in 'unse'.&lt;br /&gt;I know this song, 'unse milli nazar' beyond that, I am blank about songs that start with U(oo).&lt;br /&gt;I'll come back with the updates by saturday or sunday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-1324763319060441419?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/1324763319060441419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=1324763319060441419' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/1324763319060441419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/1324763319060441419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/06/help.html' title='Help!'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-7015246125564089276</id><published>2009-06-22T04:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T22:30:56.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ex.com</title><content type='html'>&lt;a name="OLE_LINK2"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a name="OLE_LINK2"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a name="OLE_LINK1"&gt;Women often say that some of their exes become dumb once they break up. Why did he have to prove it! (Thumping the chest and crying). Why oh why! (thumping the chest and crying again) An old-friend-now-turned-stranger mailed me. He wanted to show that there are no strings attached and he meant business. So, the mail started like this…&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a name="OLE_LINK1"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Hi &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://arunima.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;http://arunima.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a name="OLE_LINK1"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Business business business…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regards,&lt;br /&gt;Ex.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://ex.com/"&gt;http://ex.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a name="OLE_LINK1"&gt;, (the way you like it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a name. You could have left at ‘hi,’ if you didn’t want to address my name. By taking my name, you are definitely not going to cheat on your wife/girlfriend/lover/kid/family/OS/Password/Server/Browser/mom-in-law &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;(sigh! Mom-in-law just comes out of nowhere. Focus Arunima, focus.&lt;/span&gt;) I think it is called e-mail etiquette. Please don’t break my heart like this. I would love to say that I dated intelligent, smart people rather than … (ehem!). Regardless of your regards, if you can’t be nice, don’t spam and give me brilliant blog ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regards,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://arunima.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://arunima.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a name="OLE_LINK1"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-7015246125564089276?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/7015246125564089276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=7015246125564089276' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/7015246125564089276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/7015246125564089276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/06/excom.html' title='ex.com'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-2033284117713568687</id><published>2009-06-10T22:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T22:44:09.992-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>S</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;I have been wishing to read &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Sea of Poppies (Amitav Ghosh)&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;The Lost Flamingoes of Bombay (Siddarth Sanghvi).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;A few days back, when I came home from work, the ‘Sea of Poppies’ in a hard cover was waiting for me. I flipped the pages and I saw the following written in my husband’s beautiful handwriting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“ &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;To Arunima,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;For the voyages, and all the adventures,&lt;br /&gt;past, present, and future&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;S. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I smiled and then jumped and thanked him, then hugged him, then kissed him then I ran back from the kitchen again to read it and re-read it, and thanked him again and kissed him and smiled and jumped and hugged and kept on smiling. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-2033284117713568687?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/2033284117713568687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=2033284117713568687' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/2033284117713568687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/2033284117713568687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/06/s.html' title='S'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-5676046993925393084</id><published>2009-06-04T22:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T04:26:20.243-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='people'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>that young woman</title><content type='html'>I first thought she is a kiddo who is giving her 12 boards. I came to know she is a kiddo who is giving her 10th. Well, she has passed her 10th with flying colors. She is all grown up and she is taking on her father on whether to attend CBSE, ISC or ICSE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read what she has written to her readers in the side bar of her blog and you’ll know that she means business. She is witty, she is smart and, she has ATTITUDE! At her age, I would have perhaps, liked myself being addressed as a young woman but, I can’t help saying that she is so so cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear All, meet &lt;a href="http://iyer-ramya.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ramya&lt;/a&gt;. She has given me some awards too, honest scrap award... wait, let me scream out loud. &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Honest Scrap AWARD&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Friendly Blog AWARD&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks kiddie, I never knew people your age read my blog. She is 15. Hell, I really don’t know if people read my blog at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You make me feel like a fossil at times but, it is really nice to have you around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;In the news:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I have started gymming because mother-in-law is coming.&lt;br /&gt;I have realized that my husband is very learned. Remember, without blinking an eye, he gave me the statistics of models appearing on Playboy. How learned! How confident!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-5676046993925393084?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/5676046993925393084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=5676046993925393084' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/5676046993925393084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/5676046993925393084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/06/that-young-woman.html' title='that young woman'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-65160170568011208</id><published>2009-05-30T07:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T07:34:37.938-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='review'/><title type='text'>Doubt</title><content type='html'>Watched &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0918927/"&gt;Doubt&lt;/a&gt;. This time around, the devil &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;doesn&lt;/span&gt;’t wear&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0458352/"&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Prada&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;but a religious habit, and plays Sister Aloysius &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Beauvier&lt;/span&gt;. You can’t tell if she is a devil or the angel though she acts every bit like the devil in her role as the principal of a catholic school. She confiscates radio from students, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;doesn&lt;/span&gt;’t allow them to use ballpoint pen, checks if their nails are kept short and clean and, advices a teacher that the photo-frame should be placed right in front of the blackboard so that the teacher can see from the reflection what the children are doing behind her back. Any misbehaving student is sent to the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Princi&lt;/span&gt;’s office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She reminded me of school and an Italian nun we had, Sister Amelia. She used to punish anybody and everybody for anything and everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While she is around and if you pass by and, if you see a piece of paper on the ground, it’s your day. You have to pick it up and throw it in the nearest bin before she tells you. Else, she would catch you and not allow you to join the assembly prayers. You will be released only after you say ‘sorry’ after the prayers. If we see her, all of us used to start searching for papers on the ground and sometimes pick up non-existent litter and run towards the bin and escape. We were not allowed to hold hands and walk (it was a girls’ school) or to run and scream. We used to wear solemn faces around her, wish her ‘Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening’ and walk past (paper picking is when you are in primary) and continue playing the fool once she was out of sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In school, we also had these bag checking, nail checking, uniform checking, and book checking sessions. Looking back though, I have only sweet memories of my school. Sister Amelia has also passed away after years of service in that school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming back to the movie, it was an amazing performance from the two lead actors, Meryl &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Streep&lt;/span&gt; and Philip Seymour Hoffman. In short, it is about a conservative nun who suspects a liberal priest of making wrong advances to a black boy and confronts him. The ending was still left to interpretation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The drama is woven around the exploration of desperation, the vehemence of conviction and the all-encompassing and all-consuming doubt-doubt over your faith, doubt over someone &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;else's&lt;/span&gt; faith.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-65160170568011208?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/65160170568011208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=65160170568011208' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/65160170568011208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/65160170568011208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/05/doubt.html' title='Doubt'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-834442602107557189</id><published>2009-05-25T04:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T06:46:12.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My point (Monday morning point)</title><content type='html'>Maya, Chaya, Laloo, Billoo, Gowdapa, Gowramma, just about everybody was ready to give unconditional support to the UPA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And look at how the DMK bargained. They should have created some new posts like the Minister of Potholes, Minister of Underground Cables, Minister of digging, Minister of filling etc. I am sure they'll have enough work to do for the next 5 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The words,' shame' and 'ethics' doesn't exist for these people. Like the Shotgun Murugan SRK said in OSO, I feel like calling them &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Rascalas!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;********&lt;br /&gt;The paper said that Carmen Electra is going to star in some series nude. (I don't know &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;how nude&lt;/span&gt;. That is not my point.) The point is that she has already appeared nude in Playboy, perhaps twice as per reports from my husband. It is like saying Celina Jaitley is going to expose. Google for these two ladies and the images that pop up will talk for themselves. I mean who is interested in seeing Celina Jaitley expose? She is always almost naked with her &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;b(infinity symbol)bs&lt;/span&gt; jetting out all the time and hot pants for public dos. So coming back to Carmen Electra, has she sprouted a third &lt;em&gt;t*t&lt;/em&gt; that the paper is so much interested in her exposing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my point on a monday morning. ehem! have a great week ahead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-834442602107557189?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/834442602107557189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=834442602107557189' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/834442602107557189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/834442602107557189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-point-monday-morning-point.html' title='My point (Monday morning point)'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-7105083859592634448</id><published>2009-05-14T21:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T22:23:18.009-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it's been 5 yrs</title><content type='html'>I realised I have been blogging for 5 yrs. As the archives show, I started in May '04. I have been tempted to change my template very few times, but somehow I am still with the old template.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been fun to write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have realised its personality is very much like mine.&lt;br /&gt;I have realised I'll continue writing for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;I have realised I don't keep on thinking about my blog as I used to do earlier. I write when I feel like it and I write what I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hell, the title should have been 'Realisation'. Look at the amount of 'I have realised' that I have used. And now, don't start thinking that I have been living a moronic existence all this while. shoo!&lt;br /&gt;I am just trying to give away a little more of my character perhaps, through the rightful use of the wrong words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a group of 5 best friends from school. We are still in touch like the old times. Some of them, I have known for almost 26 yrs of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still in touch with a gilli-danda friend in the neighbourhood from childhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still in touch with my first roomie in Bangalore, who has gone back to Mizoram now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met J in the other hostel. We are still in touch and I am in touch with another 2 friends from that hostel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in my 6th company now. I found many good people in each company, but I found at least a good friend in most of them with whom I still catch up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still in touch with Meg, my only male best-friend left. We've been friends since '95.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many have drifted in between and there is an occasional hi! and bye! on social networking sites. But, for these friends, we've never required a social networking site to be in touch or to catch up with each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the blog world too, I have some blogger friends. If I have aged as a writer, I have grown as a reader too and it has been a wonderful experience. Even with so many interesting new bloggers popping up every other day, I am glad that some of you still care to drop by. I am glad that in these 5 yrs, some of you have really mattered to me and I have mattered to some of you and I hope to say someday that I have been reading you for the past 10 years like I just said about my childhood friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulations to &lt;a href="http://makingpplsmile.blogspot.com/"&gt;Shub&lt;/a&gt;. Wish you a very happy married life!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-7105083859592634448?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/7105083859592634448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=7105083859592634448' title='29 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/7105083859592634448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/7105083859592634448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/05/its-been-5-yrs.html' title='it&apos;s been 5 yrs'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>29</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-5518892640958792456</id><published>2009-05-05T23:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T09:01:48.105-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where does it end?</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I fell in love with you watching Casablanca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Back row of the drive-in show in the flickering light&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Popcorn and cokes beneath the stars &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Became champagne and caviar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Making love on a long hot summer's night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They met at work, her first and his second. Sparks flew and the inevitable happened. It happened in a city where people were judged only by love and companionship, not the sameness of caste or creed. The relationship matured as they moved ahead with their careers and different companies. She had always been independent and that was what her parents intended too, sending away their daughter to the city to work. When the talk about marriage with this guy came up, however, the parents did not agree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think they have been going around for more than 6 years now. I find them to be like any other young, good-looking and compatible couple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her father died without agreeing to the alliance and that broke her resolve to go on fighting. Perhaps, he didn’t know he would die. It was cancer I heard. The mother still sings the same tune, widowed and still mourning the husband that would never come back, to fulfill his wishes without ever bothering to meet this guy. Is there a point? He is from a different caste you see!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said she is not marrying him and have agreed to her mom to marry whoever she chooses. Makes me very bitter about the whole thing. The first words that came to mind were to say that the old man is dead but, I stopped myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They still meet and kill themselves a little each day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I guess there're many broken hearts in Casablanca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;You know I've never really been there so I don't know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I guess our love story will never be seen &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;On the big wide silver screen &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But it hurt just as bad when I had to watch you go&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-5518892640958792456?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/5518892640958792456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=5518892640958792456' title='30 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/5518892640958792456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/5518892640958792456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/05/where-does-it-end.html' title='Where does it end?'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>30</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-8972535029751303791</id><published>2009-04-29T03:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T08:24:02.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blow</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"So in the end, was it worth it? Jesus Christ. How irreparably changed my life has become. It's always the last day of summer and I've been left out in the cold with no door to get back in. I'll grant you I've had more than my share of poignant moments. Life passes most people by while they're making grand plans for it. Throughout my lifetime, I've left pieces of my heart here and there. And now, there's almost not enough to stay alive. But I force a smile, knowing that my ambition far exceeded my talent. There are no more white horses or pretty ladies at my door. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;~ &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000136/"&gt;George&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000136/"&gt;Johnny Depp&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;The ending lines of the movie, &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0221027/"&gt;Blow&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of late, I find Johnny Depp to be one among my kind of handsome actors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to go &lt;em&gt;Keanu Reeves Keanu Reeves&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;George Clooney George Clooney&lt;/em&gt; and the Robinhood guy, &lt;em&gt;Kevin Costner&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the current list, the others are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joaquin Phoenix (I even like the name in his case),&lt;br /&gt;Leonardo DiCaprio(I watched Titanic and Romeo &amp;amp; Juliet first before coming across Basketball diaries and Gilbert Grape, and thought he is a chocolate hero but, he has more meat than that)&lt;br /&gt;Edward Norton (Watch Painted Veil to believe me. I am having a huge crush on him.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have watched almost all the movies by these actors.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-8972535029751303791?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/8972535029751303791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=8972535029751303791' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/8972535029751303791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/8972535029751303791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/04/blow.html' title='Blow'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-3988167327300683337</id><published>2009-04-20T03:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T07:49:29.905-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The election and the middle class dreams</title><content type='html'>My name did not appear in the Voters’ list.&lt;br /&gt;Disappointed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never voted in my life and really wanted to do it this time. Submitted the forms through the &lt;a href="http://www.votedeindia.org/"&gt;VotedeIndia&lt;/a&gt; corporate initiatives. I think I selected the wrong constituency and ward no. in the form. I am crazy and I live in a crazier locality is my thinking. It is neither-here-nor-there kind of a place. Google map was a little dicey and it did not throw up the right constituency. I reconfirmed with my landlord and also the neighbor and both of them said that what I have selected is right. Apparently, it was not so. I am angry with the Landlord, the neighbor, myself and, everything else in between.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humko Vote dena mangta!&lt;br /&gt;I think I’ll go and simply stare at the voters or sing Tarzan Boy. Why? &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Simply!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; I like the tune.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Considering the recession, I bought a cheap pair of sandals for work. Now, let me first talk about my feet. Cheap footwear and my feet don’t go well. This has been since childhood. My feet look like those of a duck, very beautiful! Mom tried to make me wear some cheap shoes and after 3 months, the toes would pop out of the shoes, start smiling and greet her, &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;“hello mommy, your daughter needs better shoes.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I envy those people who can just slip on anything. There are a lot of foot wears for ladies that are quite cheap and stylish, the flip flops in all shades, the thin straps and so on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at them longingly, but my feet can take only those that are strong hearted else, it will win and leave the sandals in tatters.  If you ask me what I would do if I had lots of money, my answer would be,”&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I’d get a foot job done&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.” That is one reason why I don’t have lots of money. Now, you might think this is crazy, but I had a hostel mate who wanted to correct her toe nails with surgery if possible. We shook the hostel laughing, after hearing that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming back to the point, I bought cheap footwear for work and after a week of running to the pick-up point, it started laughing. That is when I got angry and being &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;fed up with recession, started the shopping spree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought 3 pairs of really good sandals. Now, I have a rack full of foot wears. &lt;em&gt;It’s a different thing that it has always been full. &lt;/em&gt;I also bought some formal shirts and finished it with a nice Kurti and a holiday with S to Wayanad, Kerala (holiday post coming up) &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;to beat the recession to pulp&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not like we have not been affected. The flat did not happen as our salaries became unpredictable. I did all kinds of math, but realized they were just not adding up to what we require and it would be too risky to commit on huge EMIs now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the dreams of a middle class. I cheer myself up by saying; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;“it is ok, this is what I am, I have never been anything else.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to do something now. Let the flat happen whenever it has to. For now, I’ll change the curtains of the current rented accommodation. &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Yes, I can do that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-3988167327300683337?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/3988167327300683337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=3988167327300683337' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/3988167327300683337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/3988167327300683337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/04/election-and-middle-class-dreams.html' title='The election and the middle class dreams'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-3695568547298211242</id><published>2009-04-14T04:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T04:40:08.521-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When I became a scheming woman</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;When I was young, it seemed that life was so wonderful,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;a miracle, oh it was beautiful, magical.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;And all the birds in the trees, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;well they’d be singing so happily,joyfully, playfully watching me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;But then they send me away &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;to teach me how to be sensible, logical, responsible, and practical.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I was quite assertive. Well, that was until I met my mother-in-law. I wanted to stay at my parents’ when I went home as I was going alone without S to attend my childhood friend R’s wedding. I rehearsed what I am going to say to her and how I am going to say it and if she gives me some reasons for saying ‘no’, how I should reason with her. The husband neatly walked out of this by saying that he doesn’t want to get involved as both women mean a lot to him and he doesn’t want to take sides. (Bah, I’ll remember this) After all this preparation, when I finally opened my mouth, she said,”No”. That was it. I was blank. Every idea evaporated and I forgot all the corporate trainings that I received and the case studies we had about being assertive. I meekly said ‘ok’ and hung up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;That was when I wished I was not married&lt;/em&gt;, but the deed was done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to find a way out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I resorted to &lt;em&gt;telling half truth&lt;/em&gt;. Ha ha ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Booked my flight a few days earlier and stayed at home and then went to my in-laws as the dutiful bahu. Since, it was a small place I was worried if some common friends who are in the neighborhood would mention to them that I was home. R, the bride was more worried for me than her own marriage. I joked that I’ll go to the market in the car wearing a helmet to avoid being recognized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was funny, it was scary. Having done this, it was easier to stay at the in-law’s place and be the dutiful bahu, coy and obedient else, I would have been really disappointed about my vacation. I have stayed away from home for almost a decade. I don’t go home every year and desperately wanted to stay with my parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Co-sister was there for company. She was with the in-laws for about 6 months as she waited for her passport and visa to join bro-in-law in the U.S. She did everything the way mom-in-law wanted and I had to toe the line. I was surprised, but I did learn some things from her, about endurance and being nice, not because they are nice, but because you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I have decided to boycott any training on people management or assertiveness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;And they showed me a world where I could be so dependable, clinical, intellectual, cynical.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;There are times when all the world’s asleep, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;the questions run too deep for such a simple man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;Won’t you please, please tell me what we’ve learned&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;I know it sounds absurd but please tell me who I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;Now watch what you say or they’ll be calling you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;a radical, liberal, fanatical, criminal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;Won’t you sign up your name, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;we’d like to feel you’re acceptable, respectable, presentable, a vegetable! ~&lt;/em&gt; The logical song- Supertramp. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-3695568547298211242?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/3695568547298211242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=3695568547298211242' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/3695568547298211242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/3695568547298211242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/04/when-i-became-scheming-woman.html' title='When I became a scheming woman'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976244.post-8707414102550725103</id><published>2009-03-30T20:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T21:01:58.003-07:00</updated><title type='text'>womencipated?</title><content type='html'>Don't know why the title! It is the word that came to mind when I thought of posting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went home for vacation to my small home town, I came to know that 2 of my seniors in school are divorced. One is a doctor and was a brilliant student and the other is a successful, and well-known journo. In my current org, two of my colleagues are divorcees. 3 of my colleagues in the ex-office were divorcees. All three were under 30, without children. Some of them are extremely good looking and are wonderful people to work with. J had 3 lady managers out of 5, who were divorcees. Another colleague has 2 of her friends who are divorcees. One was married for three months, and another for one and a half years. Sometimes, I do wonder if this is what we call emancipation of women, independent and ambitious or their continuing victimization, forced to walk out of marriage because of domestic violence and harassment?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a feminist up to an extent. I believe that rather than being in a painful marriage, it is better to walk out and find your own place and voice. I don't know if these are cases of women going ahead of their male counterparts adapting with the changing times and the males being left behind, or something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After hearing about all these people and after seeing many of them happen in my own circle however, I don’t know if I should rejoice that women have finally found their courage to stand up for themselves for their rights or worry that with the new found courage and independence, people have forgotten to compromise.&lt;br /&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left my phone number on some property sites while I was searching for an apartment. Now, the buggers have shared my number with whom I don't know. I get an sms update on some &lt;em&gt;fart shop&lt;/em&gt; being opened in Jayanagar and Vijaynagar too.&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work has been really hectic. I felt I earned every penny the hard way this month.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6976244-8707414102550725103?l=arunima.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/feeds/8707414102550725103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6976244&amp;postID=8707414102550725103' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/8707414102550725103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6976244/posts/default/8707414102550725103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arunima.blogspot.com/2009/03/womencipated.html' title='womencipated?'/><author><name>Arunima</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08528153539195340782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01260887943766396421'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>17</thr:total></entry></feed>