<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374</id><updated>2012-02-09T02:41:35.140-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Is Beautiful!</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>26</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-115414723634222004</id><published>2006-07-29T00:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-29T00:34:28.003-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Summer So Far...</title><content type='html'>&lt;A HREF='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3285/1030/320/memorial%20day%20-%20lincoln%20park%20zoo%20043.0.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3285/1030/160/memorial%20day%20-%20lincoln%20park%20zoo%20043.jpg' border=0 alt='' style='clear:all;float:left;margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; cursor:hand'&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;A HREF='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3285/1030/320/Field%20Museum%20Chicago%20099.0.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3285/1030/160/Field%20Museum%20Chicago%20099.jpg' border=0 alt='' style='clear:all;float:left;margin: 0px 10px 10px 180px; cursor:hand'&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align = "center"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Been a happening Summer...! You would see glimpses of the places that I have visited this summer - this post will be followed by a detailed post about each of the spots that I have been to. Watch out for more... and meanwhile... go out and enjoy the sun!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;A HREF='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3285/1030/320/Brookfield%20Zoo%20030.0.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3285/1030/160/Brookfield%20Zoo%20030.jpg' border=0 alt='' style='clear:all;float:right;margin: 0px 50px 10px 0px; cursor:hand'&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;A HREF='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3285/1030/320/P70100151.0.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3285/1030/160/P70100151.jpg' border=0 alt='' style='clear:all;float:right;margin: 0px 250px 10px 0px; cursor:hand'&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-115414723634222004?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/115414723634222004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=115414723634222004' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/115414723634222004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/115414723634222004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2006/07/my-summer-so-far_29.html' title='My Summer So Far...'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-114654644316203231</id><published>2006-05-02T01:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-02T01:07:23.176-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Virginity</title><content type='html'>He tossed over to face her after he made love to her. He liked to watch her &lt;em&gt;innocent&lt;/em&gt; smile after it was all over. He saw her move to clean the mess that their passion had created. He lay there watching her tip-toe her way to the extreme corner of the room to put back the chairs in order. He flipped over to his side to play some music when he heard her flip through pages. He walked upto her and took those mags from her hand to secure them in his wardrobe. &lt;em&gt;Wasn't virginity of the mind and the soul more important?&lt;/em&gt;, thought he.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-114654644316203231?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/114654644316203231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=114654644316203231' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/114654644316203231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/114654644316203231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2006/05/virginity.html' title='Virginity'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-114579735203768755</id><published>2006-04-23T08:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-02T01:12:31.946-04:00</updated><title type='text'>United 93</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;em&gt;September 11, 2001&lt;br /&gt;Four Planes were hijacked&lt;br /&gt;Three of them reached their target&lt;br /&gt;This is the story of the Fourth&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Need I say more?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another interesting watch: &lt;a href = "http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-8260059923762628848&amp;q=loose+change&amp;pl=true"&gt; Guaranteed to hold your attention though it is a long clip&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-114579735203768755?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/114579735203768755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=114579735203768755' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/114579735203768755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/114579735203768755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2006/04/united-93.html' title='United 93'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-114558621204986893</id><published>2006-04-20T19:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T22:50:45.906-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do I....?</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Why do I&lt;/em&gt; feel that I want to jump off a cliff when I am there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why do I&lt;/em&gt; want to get sucked in by the gushing waters?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why do I&lt;/em&gt; wish that the ground below should 'open up' and take me in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why do I&lt;/em&gt; preach that love is unconditional and still expect one to love me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why do I&lt;/em&gt; think that being overly possessive about something is wrong while I miss it when its gone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why do I&lt;/em&gt; yearn to go back in time when I decided to consider 'them' as a thing of the past?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why do I&lt;/em&gt; crave for 'it' after having given it up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why do I&lt;/em&gt; try to knot it back while I untangled it myself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why do I&lt;/em&gt; envision things to go clockwise when I made them go counter clockwise?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why do I&lt;/em&gt; hope, dream and pray that the scattered clouds should reunite to form rain?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why do I...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-114558621204986893?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/114558621204986893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=114558621204986893' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/114558621204986893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/114558621204986893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2006/04/why-do-i.html' title='Why do I....?'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-112741382913942112</id><published>2005-09-22T14:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-22T14:32:24.503-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Iniyum Sila Iravugal</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/640/poem.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/320/poem.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;unmai&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-112741382913942112?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/112741382913942112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=112741382913942112' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/112741382913942112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/112741382913942112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/09/iniyum-sila-iravugal.html' title='Iniyum Sila Iravugal'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-112277856342848395</id><published>2005-08-04T21:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-04T21:45:55.130-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Going Home!</title><content type='html'>J screamed from within the kitchen: "Leave that umpteenth perfume bottle behind. You can instead carry some other goodies"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There I sat, in the middle of the living room, packing my things with a mind set that seemed too perturbed. My mother's voice reverberated in my ears. She had uttered the very same thing a year back while I was gearing up to come to the US of A. Visuals of my last minute shopping, phone calls, miss you letters, xoxoxox came back to my mind and I did relive my last few moments in the Airport mentally before a phone call brought me out of a trance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Let's have dinner at our family restaurant! Now that you are set to go let us enjoy the night with good food and spend more time together" It felt nice to feel wanted and to be cared for by many people. There was a huge smile across my face and we were all ready to eat out in a jiffy. After a sumptuous meal it was back to packing; every little stuff that was bought for my friends and family was to be carefully handled and given to them without a trace of the slightest damage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a strange feeling; one that questioned me whether I would really want to go back home... but deep down I did miss my people... At one point of time I felt that my roots were still firmly placed back in my hometown but now a part of me did not want me to detach myself from the community that I now belonged to... WEIRD that's what I felt too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My ramblings lasted for a couple of hours and then I was off to Chicago - still made my last minute calls to tell people that I would miss them before I began my sojourn to the land that I truly belonged to. Aiport &lt;em&gt;"rewind"&lt;/em&gt; the last dinner &lt;em&gt;"rewind"&lt;/em&gt; family &lt;em&gt;"rewind"&lt;/em&gt; friends &lt;em&gt;"rewind"&lt;/em&gt; Spencers &lt;em&gt;"rewind"&lt;/em&gt; Amethyst &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"rewind".. "rewind" ..."rewind"... &lt;/em&gt;I shut my eyes firmly and tried to sleep. Was I excited? Nervous? or was it a feeling of being an alien? During the final few seconds before landing all that I could remember were the tears that glistened in my mom's eyes when I waved her the final good bye... There she was waiting out for me to join her with a smile that revealed her genuine happiness... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kannere kannere sandhosha kannere,&lt;br /&gt;thedi thedi theindeine meendum kanmun kandene&lt;br /&gt;penne penne... &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I am home its been pampering, pampering and more pampering by everyone around me! All those questions that cropped up in my head mysteriously vanished in the comfort of my dear ones. For those who are not yet home wait for your turn ;) coz its worth it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-112277856342848395?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/112277856342848395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=112277856342848395' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/112277856342848395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/112277856342848395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/08/going-home.html' title='Going Home!'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-112216990205936565</id><published>2005-07-23T23:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-23T23:17:31.956-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Special!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://www.smileycentral.com/?partner=ZSzeb008_ZUxdm020YYUS' target='_blank'&gt;&lt;img src='http://smileys.smileycentral.com/cat/36/36_13_13.gif' alt='Snappy' border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/640/collage5.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/320/collage5.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;j_park&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S,R,P,P,K and D had a discussion over sweets and coffee about the next event for LTCA. D calls up transport department to check out the availability of buses for a one day trip to Daniel Boone or any place where a camp fire could be conducted and all that she hears is a staggering amount of $1000 for conveyance.&lt;a href='http://www.smileycentral.com/?partner=ZSzeb008_ZUxdm020YYUS' target='_blank'&gt;&lt;img src='http://smileys.smileycentral.com/cat/36/36_19_2.gif' alt='Shocked' border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Transport Dept Supervisor&lt;/em&gt;: "Yes, M'am, you heard me right. It would cost you a little over $1000 and we might charge an additional fee if need be..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A flash news was sent across to everyone concerned and plans were revised due to monetary reasons.&lt;a href='http://www.smileycentral.com/?partner=ZSzeb008_ZUxdm020YYUS' target='_blank'&gt;&lt;img src='http://smileys.smileycentral.com/cat/36/36_19_1.gif' alt='Duh' border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After a thorough search for places and a lot of thought everyone decides to drive to a near by park and have a fun filled day. A plan of action was charted out and everyone put on their thinking caps to make this day as joyous as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over more coffee, OJ and snacks, each of them voiced out their preferred item on the menu list which comprised of the following: Puliyodarai, tomato rice, avial, poori sabzi, curd rice and gulab jamoon for lunch &lt;a href='http://www.smileycentral.com/?partner=ZSzeb008_ZUxdm020YYUS' target='_blank'&gt;&lt;img src='http://smileys.smileycentral.com/cat/36/36_1_72.gif' alt='BBQ' border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and samosas and elachi tea for snacks - &lt;em&gt;Guys, we did intend to give you a sumptuous meal! &lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was funny working out the rules and commands for each game and we did have a gr8 time in purchasing the gifts. P, P and K had some cool ideas to share with an equal share of wise cracks to supplement it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally the D-day arrives and the mercury level shoots up to such an extent that we feared that no one would turn up &lt;a href='http://www.smileycentral.com/?partner=ZSzeb008_ZUxdm020YYUS' target='_blank'&gt;&lt;img src='http://smileys.smileycentral.com/cat/36/36_1_47.gif' alt='Sweaty' border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. We had several known and a few unknown faces and it was a pleasure having all of them. Lunch session &lt;a href='http://www.smileycentral.com/?partner=ZSzeb008_ZUxdm020YYUS' target='_blank'&gt;&lt;img src='http://smileys.smileycentral.com/cat/36/36_1_71.gif' alt='Picnic' border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;followed by the games &lt;a href='http://www.smileycentral.com/?partner=ZSzeb008_ZUxdm020YYUS' target='_blank'&gt;&lt;img src='http://smileys.smileycentral.com/cat/36/36_1_74.gif' alt='Beach' border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt; had our spirits up and I am sure each of us had a moment that will remain close to our hearts.&lt;a href='http://www.smileycentral.com/?partner=ZSzeb008_ZUxdm020YYUS' target='_blank'&gt;&lt;img src='http://smileys.smileycentral.com/cat/36/36_3_13.gif' alt='Morph' border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keywords: Shelter-3, FOOD, Four corners, Passing the Parcel, Tambola, Autograph, Ek Minute...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;All these activities have now left me drained out and I guess I'd better call it a day! Have a great time guys! Catch u ltr &lt;a href='http://www.smileycentral.com/?partner=ZSzeb008_ZUxdm020YYUS' target='_blank'&gt;&lt;img src='http://smileys.smileycentral.com/cat/36/36_1_50.gif' alt='Sleeping' border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-112216990205936565?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/112216990205936565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=112216990205936565' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/112216990205936565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/112216990205936565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/07/summer-special.html' title='Summer Special!'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-112137879471116298</id><published>2005-07-14T18:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-14T18:06:34.720-04:00</updated><title type='text'>99 SECRETS THAT GIRLS NEED TO KNOW ABOUT GUYS!</title><content type='html'>Strangely I don't blog these days even though I have a lot of issues in my head. I am more than excited about the fact that I am off to India - to meet my family and friends and I am doing things that I love the most right now - shopping and being with people who matter the most to me! (that's inclusive of Puff, Simba and Ted, my teddies whom I can't carry with me :( )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have heard a lot of people say that it is hard to find &lt;em&gt;the right guy &lt;/em&gt;. The following is one forward that lists out everything about a &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;MAN&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Girls, hope you have some luck with this and guys, do let us know whether they are true!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Guys don't actually look after good-looking girls. They prefer neat and presentable girls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Guys hate flirts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. A guy can like you for a minute, and then forget you afterwards. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. When a guy says he doesn't understand you, it simply means you're not thinking the way he is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. "Are you doing something?" or "Have you eaten already?" are the first usual questions a guy asks on the phone just to get out from stammering. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Guys may be flirting around all day but before they go to sleep, they always think about the girl they truly care about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. When a guy really likes you, he'll disregard all your bad characteristics. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Guys go crazy over a girl's smile. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Guys will do anything just to get the girl's attention. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Guys hate it when you talk about your ex-boyfriend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. When guys want to meet your parents. Let them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Guys want to tell you many things but they can't. And they sure have one habit to gain courage and spirit to tell you many things and it is drinking! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Guys cry!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Don't provoke the guy to heat up. Believe me. He will. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Guys can never dream and hope too much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Guys usually try hard to get the girl who has dumped them, and this makes it harder for them to accept their defeat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. When you touch a guy's heart, there's no turning back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Giving a guy a hanging message like "You know what?!..uh...never mind!" would make him jump to a conclusion that is far from what you are thinking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Guys go crazy when girls touch their hands. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Guys are good flatterers when courting but they usually stammer when they talk to a girl they really like. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. When a guy makes a prolonged "umm" or makes any excuses when you're asking him to do you a favor, he's actually saying that he doesn't like you and he can't lay &lt;br /&gt;down the card for you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. When a girl says "no", a guy hears it as "try again tomorrow." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. You have to tell a guy what you really want before he gets the message clearly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Guys hate gays! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Guys love their moms. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. A guy would sacrifice his money for lunch just to get you a couple of roses. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. A guy often thinks about the girl who likes him. But this doesn't mean that the guy likes her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28 You can never understand him unless you listen to him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. If a guy tells you he loves you once in a lifetime. He does. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. Beware. Guys can make gossips scatter through half of the face of the earth faster than girls can. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. Like Eve, girls are guys' weaknesses. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. Guys are very open about themselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. It's good to test a guy first before you believe him. But don't let him wait that long. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. No guy is bad when he is courting.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;35. Guys hate it when their clothes get dirty. Even a small dot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. Guys really admire girls that they like even if they're not that much pretty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. Your best friend, whom your boyfriend seeks help from about his problems with you may end up being admired by your boyfriend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. If a guy tells you about his problems, he just needs someone to listen to him. You don't need to give advice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. A usual act that proves that the guy likes you is when he teases you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. A guy finds ways to keep you off from linking with someone else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41. Guys love girls with brains more than girls in miniskirts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42. Guys try to find the stuffed toy a girl wants but would unluckily get the wrong one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;43. Guys virtually brag about anything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44. Guys cannot keep secrets that girls tell them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45. Guys think too much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46. Guys' fantasies are unlimited. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47. Girls' height doesn't really matter to a guy but her weight does! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48. Guys tend to get serious with their relationship and become too possessive. So watch out girls!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49. When a girl makes the boy suffer during courtship, it would be hard for him to let go of that girl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50. It's not easy for a guy to let go of his girlfriend after they broke up especially when they've been together for 3 years or more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;51. You have to tell a guy what you really want before getting involved with that guy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;52. A guy has to experience rejection, because if he's too-good-never-been-busted, never been in love and hurt, he won't be matured and grow up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;53. When an unlikable circumstance comes, guys blame themselves a lot more than girls do. They could even hurt themselves physically. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;54. Guys have strong passion to change but have weak will power. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;55. Guys are tigers in their peer groups but become tamed pussycats with their girlfriends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;56. When a guy pretends to be calm, check if he's sweating. You'll probably see that he is nervous. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;57. When a guy says he is going crazy about the girl. He really is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;58. When a guy asks you to leave him alone, he's just actually saying, "Please come and listen to me" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;59. Guys don't really have final decisions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;60. When a guy loves you, bring out the best in him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;61. If a guy starts to talk seriously, listen to him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;62. If a guy has been kept shut or silent, say something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;63. Guys believe that there's no such thing as love at first sight, but court the girls anyway and then realize at the end that he is wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;64. Guys like femininity not feebleness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;65. Guys don't like girls who punch harder than they do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;66. A guy may instantly know if the girl likes him but can never be sure unless the girl tells him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;67. A guy would waste his time over video games and basketball, the way a girl would do over her romance novels and make-ups. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;68. Guys love girls who can cook or bake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;69. Guys like girls who are like their moms. No kidding! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;70. A guy has more problems than you can see with your naked eyes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;71. A guy's friend knows everything about him. Use this to your advantage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;72.. Don't be a snob. Guys may easily give up on the first sign of rejection. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;73.. Don't be biased. Try loving a guy without prejudice and you'll be surprised. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;74. Girls who bathe in their eau de perfumes do more repelling than attracting guys. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;75. Guys are more talkative than girls are especially when the topic is about girls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;76. Guys don't comprehend the statement "Get lost" too well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;77. Guys really think that girls are strange and have unpredictable decisions but still love them more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;78. When a guy gives a crooked or pretentious grin at your jokes, he finds them offending and he just tried to be polite. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;79. Guys don't care about how shiny their shoes are unlike girls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;80. Guys tend to generalize about girls but once they get to know them,they'll realize they're wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;81. Any guy can handle his problems all by his own. He's just too stubborn to deal with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;82. Guys find it so objectionable when a girl swears. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;83. Guys' weakest point is at the knee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;84. When a problem arises, a guy usually keeps himself cool but is already thinking of a way out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;85. When a guy is conscious of his looks, it shows he is not good at fixing things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;86. When a guy looks at you, either he's amazed of you or he's criticizing you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;87. When you catch him cheating on you and he asks for a second chance, give it to him. But when you catch him again and he asks for another chance, ignore him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;88. If a guy lets you go, he really loves you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;89. If you have a boyfriend, and your boy best friend always glances at you and it obviously shows that he is jealous whenever you're with your boyfriend, all I can say is your boy best friend loves you more than your boyfriend does. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;90. Guys learn from experience not from the romance books that girls read and take as their basis of experience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;91. You can tell if a guy is really hurt or in pain when he cries in front of you! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;92. If a guy suddenly asks you for a date, ask him first why. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;93. When a guy says he can't sleep if he doesn't hear your voice even just for one night, hang up. He also tells that to another girl. He only flatters you and sometimes makes fun of you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;94. You can truly say that a guy has good intentions if you see him praying sometimes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;95. Guys seek for advice not from a guy but from a girl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;96. Girls are allowed to touch boys' things. Not their hair! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;97. If a guy says you're beautiful, that guy likes you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;98. Guys hate girls who overreact. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;99. Guys love you more than you love them if they are serious in your relationships.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-112137879471116298?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/112137879471116298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=112137879471116298' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/112137879471116298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/112137879471116298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/07/99-secrets-that-girls-need-to-know.html' title='99 SECRETS THAT GIRLS NEED TO KNOW ABOUT GUYS!'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-112092483996124897</id><published>2005-07-09T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-09T12:10:00.743-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hum Tum :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/640/017wr.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/320/017wr.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ht1&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/640/026vx.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/320/026vx.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ht2&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/640/032xg.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/320/032xg.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ht3&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/640/042pm.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/320/042pm.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ht4&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/640/059da.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/320/059da.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ht5&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/640/065qn.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/320/065qn.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ht6&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/640/110ag.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/320/110ag.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ht7&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/640/104qc.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/320/104qc.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ht8&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/640/097zu.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/320/097zu.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ht9&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/640/082ex.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/320/082ex.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ht10&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/640/079bt.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/320/079bt.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ht11&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-112092483996124897?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/112092483996124897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=112092483996124897' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/112092483996124897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/112092483996124897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/07/hum-tum.html' title='Hum Tum :)'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-112043221878849785</id><published>2005-07-03T19:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-03T19:32:10.060-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Grey cells issue</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/640/ole01.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/320/ole01.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;brains&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-112043221878849785?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/112043221878849785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=112043221878849785' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/112043221878849785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/112043221878849785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/07/grey-cells-issue.html' title='Grey cells issue'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-111965689559647201</id><published>2005-06-24T19:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-03T19:31:28.850-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Anniyan Movie Screening</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/640/collage4.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/320/collage4.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man... what an experience. I am not here to write a review abt the movie (too much of hype already left a lot of us disappointed :( ) but to just pen down a few keywords that will help me remember all the fun that we had while organizing the show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* The &lt;em&gt;"big"&lt;/em&gt; decision: to screen the movie.&lt;br /&gt;* Cincinnati trip - Temple and Udipi - posters.&lt;br /&gt;* Tickets.&lt;br /&gt;* Reel Deal Cinemas.&lt;br /&gt;* A &lt;strong&gt;BIG crowd &lt;/strong&gt;- a helluva response to the event :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-111965689559647201?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/111965689559647201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=111965689559647201' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111965689559647201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111965689559647201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/06/anniyan-movie-screening.html' title='Anniyan Movie Screening'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-111912221485116808</id><published>2005-06-18T15:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-06-18T15:27:33.673-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Open book!</title><content type='html'>I am happy right now because I am back with a book!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was recently tagged by &lt;a href="http://pbmuthukumar.blogspot.com/"&gt;PB&lt;/a&gt; and here I am with my list:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Famous Five - Enid Blyton.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys series.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hercule Poirot series (esp Murder on the Orient Express)- Agatha Christie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a penny more Not a penny less, The Prodigal daughter, The eleventh commandment - Jeffrey Archer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rage of Angels, Tell me your dreams, If tomorrow comes - Sidney Sheldon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The firm, Pelican Brief - John grisham. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doctors, Love story, The Class - Eric Segal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coma, Toxin, Chromosome 6, Mindbend - Robin Cook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Sum of all Fears, The Bear and the Dragon, Executive orders - Tom Clancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disclosure, Congo, Jurassic park - Michael Crichton.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Complete Collection of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Merchant of Venice - William Shakespeare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Malgudi Days - R K Narayan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are books that I read over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really interested in knowing what &lt;a href="http://www.teakada.com/"&gt;Ranganathan&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://jikku.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ammani&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://raapi.blogspot.com/"&gt;Raapi&lt;/a&gt; read. So, now it's you chance to become an "open book"!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-111912221485116808?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/111912221485116808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=111912221485116808' title='29 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111912221485116808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111912221485116808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/06/open-book.html' title='Open book!'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>29</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-111905956654790174</id><published>2005-06-17T21:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-06-17T21:52:46.550-04:00</updated><title type='text'>First Anniyan review</title><content type='html'>Enakku vanda first suda suda Anniyan &lt;a href="http://www.teakada.com/"&gt;review!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-111905956654790174?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/111905956654790174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=111905956654790174' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111905956654790174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111905956654790174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/06/first-anniyan-review.html' title='First Anniyan review'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-111869171485569334</id><published>2005-06-13T15:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-06-14T16:31:54.176-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Anniyan!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/640/anniyan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/320/anniyan.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anniyan &lt;a href="http://www.hello.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" alt="Posted by Hello" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif" align="absMiddle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.uky.edu/StudentOrgs/LTCA/events.htm"&gt;Lexington Tamil Cultural Association &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Proudly Presents&lt;br /&gt;Tamil Cinema's Magnum-opus&lt;br /&gt;"Anniyan"&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***ing: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;‘Chiyaan’ Vikram&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, Sada, Vivek, Yana Gupta &lt;br /&gt;Music: Harris Jeyaraj (Haven’t you heard the Andan-Kaaka song yet!)&lt;br /&gt;Producer: Oscar V Ravichandran&lt;br /&gt;Direction: &lt;strong&gt;Shankar&lt;/strong&gt; (Gentleman, Indian, Muthalvan fame) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, &lt;strong&gt;22nd June &lt;/strong&gt;2005&lt;br /&gt;Time: 7:30 p.m&lt;br /&gt;Venue: Reel Deal Cinemas,&lt;br /&gt;South Park Shopping Center,&lt;br /&gt;Nicholasville Road&lt;br /&gt;(Behind Best Buy n Toys’R’us stores) &lt;br /&gt;Lexington, KY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tickets:&lt;br /&gt;$12 per person.&lt;br /&gt;Ages 7 to 15: $6, under 7 years: Free &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tickets Available @:&lt;br /&gt;Vishal Intl.&lt;br /&gt;Saagar Indian Stores&lt;br /&gt;Tandoor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-111869171485569334?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/111869171485569334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=111869171485569334' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111869171485569334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111869171485569334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/06/anniyan.html' title='Anniyan!'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-111859303512580115</id><published>2005-06-12T22:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-06-12T22:07:15.736-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Illusion</title><content type='html'>"Soorya, it's time for you to get up and brush". It's the same dialogue that Maaya screamed from within the kitchen to get her 5 year old up and off to school. Vinay had been a supportive husband and he had felt that it was his duty to bathe the kid and dress him up while she dutifully cooked and did her morning prayers. She thanked God for having given her a gem of a son. "Neighbors envy, owners pride" is what they say! Vinay honked the horn and announced that he was ready to leave. Maaya rushed to wave a bye to them only to see the car moving out of the gate. &lt;em&gt;"How many times have I told him to tell me before he gets into the car..."&lt;/em&gt;, she wondered. It was the usual routine again - wrapping up her prayers, cleaning, mega serials, phone conversations with club members and the other chores of a homemaker. She went into Soorya's room in search of her kid's clothes but she found them neatly stacked and in place. Smiling at the work of her husband she proceeded to make some eatables for the evening. A walk to the temple, music class and other activities were scheduled for the evening. At dinner time, Maaya was concerned whether Soorya had completed his homework and had had his dinner. Vinay answered all her questions and accompanied her to their bedroom. "Vinay, has Soorya slept? I will just wish him goodnight without disturbing him pa." Maaya rushed towards his bedroom and silence prevailed for about a minute. "Ahhhhhhhhhh" came a hysterical scream and Maaya came out clasping a doll to her chest. "Soorya...Soorya...Soorya..." Maaya sobbed and mumbled Soorya's name till Vinay embraced her. She fainted in his arms and went into a trance. Vinay sat back and shut his eyes. That fateful day still haunted him - an accident which killed their son; that which made Maaya lose her mental stability.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-111859303512580115?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/111859303512580115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=111859303512580115' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111859303512580115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111859303512580115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/06/illusion.html' title='Illusion'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-111829519816807055</id><published>2005-06-09T01:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-06-09T01:35:06.893-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Disappointment</title><content type='html'>Kripa felt queasy breathing in the hospital smell with every breath that she took in. It somehow seemed ominous bringing flashes of an operation theater, bright focus lights, doctors clad in green gowns and sharp knives. She took in a deep breath to clear her head of all those thoughts. It wasn't going to be bad news she kept telling herself. "&lt;em&gt;Kripa Sethuraman, your report is ready&lt;/em&gt;", called out the nurse on duty. She heard a distant cry of a baby, saw visuals of its teething ring, johnson and johnson powder, its nappies, its little play room, its 5th birthday party, a high school graduation party, a tiff about the child's choice of life partner, its profession..."&lt;em&gt;Kripa Sethuraman&lt;/em&gt;" She walked in a trance towards the desk and picked up her folder and opened it. She relived the same experience that she had had a couple of times earlier and wondered whether she would go through a different phase &lt;em&gt;atleast&lt;/em&gt; this time. "Recommended: Abortion" read her report and tears rolled down her cheeks. The visuals that she had had just a minute earlier rolled back and flashes of a surgery, depressed family, arasa maram (Peepul tree) and trips to temples were all that came to her mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-111829519816807055?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/111829519816807055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=111829519816807055' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111829519816807055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111829519816807055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/06/disappointment.html' title='Disappointment'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-111827259769545496</id><published>2005-06-08T20:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-06-08T20:08:28.066-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A day of fun &amp; frolic</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.pki.com/attractions/attractions.cfm"&gt;Kings Island!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another weekend of outdoor activity and merry making! June 5th will remain etched in my memory for a long time to come for the following reasons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Fun-filled car drive: Songs, Stories and Speed (limits)!&lt;br /&gt;* Kings Island's thrill rides: Drop Zone, Face Off, Vortex, Beast, Son of the Beast &lt;br /&gt;* THE GANG&lt;br /&gt;* and also bcoz my long time dream of bungee jumping was realized this very day! - Three of us did manage to go on the 'Sky Flyer' - Hey, we grew wings! &lt;br /&gt;* Post Kings Island dinner session - Part I &amp; II&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A picture speaks more than 1000 words. Check it out for yourselves!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/640/collage11.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/320/collage11.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KI&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pics Courtesy: S &amp; P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-111827259769545496?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/111827259769545496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=111827259769545496' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111827259769545496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111827259769545496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/06/day-of-fun-frolic.html' title='A day of fun &amp; frolic'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-111790905564979429</id><published>2005-06-04T14:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-06-04T14:54:19.933-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Selfishness...</title><content type='html'>Sitting in one corner of the hospital room I wondered why my granny couldn't stay alive when I really wanted her to. Why did she have to leave me when she knew that she meant so much to me? Did that mean my love wasn't being reciprocated? That is what the kid in me thought when my granny was still worried about leaving me alone even when she gasped for air during her last few seconds...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did I want her to live though I did acknowledge the fact that she had to endure pain and why on the other hand was I chanting prayers for her soul to rest in peace during those very last few seconds?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dasher lay under the center table, his skin sagging in folds indicating that he was too old for any activity. My entry into the house would evoke only a glitter in his eyes and a slight wag of his tail in response; I have never seen him full of energy. As a kid I have wanted a companion who would run around with me, fetch a ball that I threw at a distance, perform 'shake-hand' with all my friends who would come home. I have wanted a dog that I could proudly take around but Dasher shyed away from people. He was being extra sweet to his masters - showered love on all of us in his own style.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have realized that my dog was at a level higher than the other dogs. Contrary to his name he could never move at all... Dasher was a physically challenged dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A ritual usually takes place in my house where all the old clothes and toys are given away each year. Being a teddy bear freak that I am, it was hard for me to part with one of my fave teddies. A big, cuddly one that it was - a definite NO for giving it away. I was forced to send it with the other stuff and I sat cribbing about it for almost one whole day. It was when we received a 'Thank you' note from the orphange did I realize that a teddy that was just yet another one in my collection was instrumental in bringing a big smile across several faces!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To end on a lighter note, when I was questioned by anyone whether I would like to have a sibling, my reply was always on the negative. I guess I didn't want to share my parents' love and affection with anyone else (typical kiddish behaviour)... I had replied saying that if I ever missed a sibling then I would bring home one of those cute kids in the pram who come to Nilgiris departmental store!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-111790905564979429?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/111790905564979429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=111790905564979429' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111790905564979429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111790905564979429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/06/selfishness.html' title='Selfishness...'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-111738808204188431</id><published>2005-05-29T16:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-05-29T16:10:24.603-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A walk in the clouds! @ Smokies!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align ="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/640/smokies2.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/320/smokies2.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;s1&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday is busy with Monday blues, Tuesday with meetings and deadlines,&lt;br /&gt;mid-week blues on Wednesdays, Thursday to demonstrate your week's work,&lt;br /&gt;Friday gets nothing moving with its Friday syndrome!&lt;br /&gt;Five days of work, not a second to pause,&lt;br /&gt;within this restless soul lies a spirit that yearns to dream,&lt;br /&gt;One that wishes to merge with nature and enjoy its beauty.&lt;br /&gt;The Romantic in me perceives the fluttering of flowers, a cascade of water,&lt;br /&gt;dew drops on trees, a tranquilizing breeze and the earthly smell.&lt;br /&gt;A dream that was entirely scenic!&lt;br /&gt;The bonded spirit broke free to take "&lt;em&gt;A walk in the clouds&lt;/em&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/640/collage2.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/320/collage2.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pics&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A feeling of Bliss always multiplies itself when you enjoy nature with a group of like-mided people. A sense to appreciate nature is a joy in itself. 7 vibrant people embarked on a journey to the Smokies. The journey began with the most expected question - Why is the place called Smokies? Well for people who are still clueless, you can visit &lt;a href="http://www.gsmnp.com/pages/history.html"&gt;Smokies&lt;/a&gt; to know more about it. Dumb charades, cards and general chit-chat kept us entertained throughout the journey. Hunting around for food and Tubing were the events scheduled for the afternoon. Each of us had a different experience to share - tubes were lost, titles were being conferred(!) upon people, hunger strikes and walk through the woods...phew! a long list of stories to narrate. We did manage to find some doughnuts and coffee before setting out on a trail. Mouse creek trail was a 2 mile walk and it was the most picturesque place that all of us had ever seen. We stood there mesmerized and took in all that nature had to offer. Business partnerships were drawn out (video copyrights) and all of us kept singing our way back to the parking area. Stories about grizzly bears and a lady clad in white saree were being said to scare the poor souls in the group. It was fun as everyone realized that we were &lt;em&gt;all getting scared!&lt;/em&gt; After a late dinner we started back to Lexington. It was almost 4 a.m when we reached our apartments and all of us went with a happiness that is beyond words. It was the perfect day, the perfect group, the perfect destination and to put it in simple words - &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A day to remember!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-111738808204188431?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/111738808204188431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=111738808204188431' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111738808204188431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111738808204188431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/05/walk-in-clouds-smokies.html' title='A walk in the clouds! @ Smokies!'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-111694320683835815</id><published>2005-05-24T09:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-05-24T11:26:24.463-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Beautiful Lessons</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Of late I have been reading a lot than writing some good stuff. I have been hibernating for quite sometime now and yesterday I came across the following article that I could relate to. Hope you have a good read too!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;1 - First Important Lesson - The Cleaning Lady. &lt;/em&gt;During my second month of college, our professor gave us a pop quiz. I was a conscientious student and had breezed through the questions until I readthe last one: "What is the first name of the woman who cleans the school?"Surely this was some kind of joke. I had seen the cleaning woman several times. She was tall, dark-haired and in her 50's, but how would I know hername? I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank. Just before class ended, one student asked if the last question would count toward ourquiz grade. "Absolutely," said the professor. "In your careers, you will meet many people. All are significant. They deserve your attention and care,even if all you do is smile and say "hello." I've never forgotten that lesson. I also learned her name was Dorothy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;2 - Second Important Lesson - Pickup in the Rain. &lt;/em&gt;One night, at 11:30 p.m., an older African American woman was standing on the side of an Alabama highway trying to endure a lashing rainstorm. Her carhad broken down and she desperately needed a ride. Soaking wet, she decided to flag down the next car. A young white man stopped to help her,generally unheard of in those conflict-filled 1960s. The man took her to safety, helped her get assistance, and put her into a taxicab. She seemed tobe in a big hurry, but wrote down his address and thanked him. Seven days went by, and a knock came on the man's door. To his surprise,a giant console color TV was delivered to his home. A special note was attached. It read: "Thank you so much forassisting me on the highway the other night. The rain drenched not only my clothes, but also my spirits. Then youcame along. Because of you, I was able to make it to my dying husband's bedside just before he passed away. God bless you for helping me andunselfishly serving others." Sincerely,Mrs. Nat King Cole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;3 - Third Important Lesson - Always Remember Those Who Serve. &lt;/em&gt;In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less, a 10-year-old boy entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass of waterin front of him. "How much is an ice cream sundae?" he asked. "Fifty cents," replied the waitress. The little boy pulled his hand out of his pocketand studied the coins in it."Well, how much is a plain dish of ice cream?" he inquired. By now, more people were waiting for a table and the waitress was growing impatient."Thirty-five cents," she brusquely replied. The little boy again countedhis coins. "I'll have the plain ice cream," he said. The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away. The boy finishedthe ice cream, paid the cashier, and left. When the waitress came back, she began to cry as she wiped down the table. There, placed neatly beside t!he empty dish, were two nickelsand five pennies. You see, he couldn't have the sundae, because he had to have enough left to leave her a tip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;4 - Fourth Important Lesson - The Obstacles in Our Path. &lt;/em&gt;In ancient times, a King had a boulder placed on a roadway. Then he hid himself and watched to see if anyone would remove the huge rock. Some of theking's wealthiest merchants and courtiers came by and simply walked around it. Many loudly blamed the King for not keeping the roads clear, but nonedid anything about getting the stone out of the way. Then a peasant came along, carrying a load of vegetables. Upon approaching the boulder, thepeasant laid down his burden and tried to move the stone to the side of the road. After much pushing and straining,he finally succeeded. After the peasant picked up his load of vegetables, he noticed a purse lying in the road wherethe boulder had been. The purse contained many gold coins and a note from the King indic! ating that the gold was for the person who removed theboulder from the roadway. The peasant learned what many of us never understand! Every obstacle presents an opportunity to improve our condition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;5 - Fifth Important Lesson - Giving When it Counts. &lt;/em&gt;Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer at a hospital, I got to know a little girl named Liz who was suffering from a rare and serious disease.Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion from her live-year-old brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease and haddeveloped the antibodies needed to combat the illness. The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and asked the little boy if he wouldbe willing to give his blood to his sister. I saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, "Yes,I'll do it if it willsave her." As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as we all did, seei! ng the color returning to her cheek. Thenhis face grew pale and his smile faded. Helooked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, "Will I start to die right away?"Being young, the little boy had misunderstood the doctor; he thought he was going to have to give his sister all of his blood in order to save her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-111694320683835815?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/111694320683835815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=111694320683835815' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111694320683835815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111694320683835815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/05/beautiful-lessons.html' title='Beautiful Lessons'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-111644544108312396</id><published>2005-05-18T14:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-05-18T15:44:01.096-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hri"daya" - part II</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Following is an article that I recently read. Please take the time to read and enjoy what life is all about:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a sports stadium. Eight Children were standing on the track to participate in the running event.&lt;br /&gt;* Ready!&lt;br /&gt;* Steady!&lt;br /&gt;* Bang!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the sound of Toy pistol, all eight girls started running. Hardly had they covered ten to fifteen steps when one of the smaller girls slipped and fell down; she started crying due to bruises and pain. When the other seven girls heard this sound, they stopped running, stood for a while, turned back and ran to the place where the girl had fallen down. One among them bent, picked and kissed the girl gently and enquired, "Now pain must have reduced". All the seven girls lifted the fallen girl, pacified her; two of them held the girl firmly and all of them joined their hands together and reached the winning post. Officials were shocked and the sound of applause filled the stadium. Many eyes were filled with tears and perhaps it had touched GOD too! YES. This recently happened in Hyderabad. Sports events were being conducted by National Institute of Mental Health and all these "special" (read spastic) girls had come to participate in this event. Yes, they were mentally retarded.&lt;br /&gt;What did they teach this world?&lt;br /&gt;Teamwork?&lt;br /&gt;Humanity?&lt;br /&gt;Equality among all? . . . . . . . . ????&lt;br /&gt;Successful people help others who are slow in learning so that they do not fall far behind. Well, these are normal people living in an abnormal world!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-111644544108312396?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/111644544108312396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=111644544108312396' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111644544108312396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111644544108312396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/05/hridaya-part-ii.html' title='Hri&quot;daya&quot; - part II'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-111552780448269060</id><published>2005-05-07T23:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-05-08T00:50:04.496-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding Bells</title><content type='html'>There is another blog that I am writing - more on marriages and traditions that are being followed in a typical south indian family. Do check it out at &lt;a href="http://vivaham.blogspot.com"&gt;Wedding Bells&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-111552780448269060?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/111552780448269060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=111552780448269060' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111552780448269060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111552780448269060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/05/wedding-bells.html' title='Wedding Bells'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-111534532511560213</id><published>2005-05-05T22:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-05-06T15:41:38.633-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hri"daya"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A round table conference, that had some of the most affluent people in the society, was convened to discuss the weather in London, a bug in the latest software product, Indian politics, mega serials, next pooja session's bhajans, sports, foreign exchange, recipes among others. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;These 40 odd people came from diverse backgrounds, with varied interests but there was an element of similarity that tied them all together... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;This conference was not being held in an air-conditioned conference hall but it had the warmth of the evening sun and the gentle breeze caressed not just the bodies of the conference members but also their souls... They weren't talking to prove a point to one another but to ensure that they didn't forget the means to communicate... Each of them had a story to share - a very sad story to share...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gong goes the bell at 6 a.m and everybody gather for a small prayer session. Coffee and breakfast is served to all and the latest news is made known by the morning news or through newspapers. One has the freedom to choose their line of interest and hone their skills while others could relax or help in running the show. Lunch is served precisely at the same time everyday which is followed by a short afternoon nap. High tea is the highlight of the day's events where all the members get to voice their opinion on anything under the sun! A television session followed by supper marks the end of the day. Behind this superficial serenity lies a turbulence which manifests itself as t-e-a-r-s, lamentation, grief, SORROW...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inmates of any Old Age Home go through this rigmarole and there are a variety of reasons for their stay. Some are born poor in material terms while others become "poor" while they lose all their relationships. Children in foreign countries, misunderstanding and confusion within the family or their very age (read inability to do any work as per the words of some children) are compelling reasons to resort to old age homes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One granny was proud to say that she had seen her newly born grandchild through a webcam and heard her first sounds through the speakers - isn't she supposed to be raising the kid and enjoying its first moves? How would the kid get moulded without getting love, care and words of wisdom from its grandparents? Isn't that the way our forefathers were brought up? Then why is there a proliferation of &lt;a href="http://www.explocity.com/Info/showchannel.asp?city=CHE&amp;channelid=1&amp;amp;Did=74"&gt;Old Age homes&lt;/a&gt; in this new era when things have worked out fine all these years?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/640/collage1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/137/5567/320/collage1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;old &lt;a href="http://www.hello.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" alt="Posted by Hello" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif" align="absMiddle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can one desert the person who was responsible for our first breath; who held our hand and made us write the alphabets; who helped us distinguish between right and wrong; who stood for us at any cost; who sacrified a meal to make us a Professional; who showered all the love and affection and helped us realize our dreams????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We need to give it back to them for all that they have done for us and what could be a better way than to love them whole heartedly and to take care of them during their old age. We are also setting the right trend for our children (remember WUGIWUG). So, take the first step and make your grandparents and parents feel special...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We must be the change we wish to see in the world&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; - M.K. Gandhi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-111534532511560213?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/111534532511560213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=111534532511560213' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111534532511560213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111534532511560213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/05/hridaya.html' title='Hri&quot;daya&quot;'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-111454539819896234</id><published>2005-04-26T15:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-04-26T17:01:07.686-04:00</updated><title type='text'>WUGIWUG</title><content type='html'>I have been wondering about what I should be writing next… been caught up with work and project deadlines… and it is needless to say that I was preoccupied with work… but somehow I couldn’t take my mind off the blog… a lot of things were on the back of my head and I have been in a reflective mood for more than a couple of days now… &lt;br /&gt;A couple of quotes kept coming back to my mind… I am just jotting them down even though they are clichéd…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• Happiness is not having what you want &lt;br /&gt;but &lt;i&gt;wanting&lt;/i&gt; what you have!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• What do you do when the only person who can make you stop crying is the person who made you cry?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• If you loved something,&lt;br /&gt;set it free,&lt;br /&gt;if it comes back to you&lt;br /&gt;then it is yours&lt;br /&gt;else it was &lt;i&gt;never&lt;/i&gt; yours!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• A pinch of mischief,&lt;br /&gt;A cup of love,&lt;br /&gt;along with lot of understanding&lt;br /&gt;makes friendship the best recipe!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• Always be careful,&lt;br /&gt;Always bear a smile&lt;br /&gt;Remember you are in this world just for a while!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been thinking about a lot of things… especially about relationships… guess I would dedicate another blog to it… was just pondering on what people expect out of a relationship… and the first thing that came to my mind was that we all needed an &lt;i&gt;“understanding” &lt;/i&gt;person… Do we all make the mistake of expecting more and fail to give an equal (if not more) share of it? Every person yearns to be cared for… to be loved… and pampered at some point of time in their lives… all of us need a shoulder to lean on in times of distress, a comforting hug that means much more than words, a warm smile that reassures that there is someone on earth who will go out of their way to keep us happy… someone who will treasure us and love us for the way we are… someone who will respect our space and help us grow both within and out of the circle that each of us have drawn around us… Hmmm….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every relationship is like the sand held in our palm… if held too firmly, it escapes through the spaces in between our fingers… if held too loose; it gets carried away by the wind…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WUGIWUG – &lt;i&gt;What You Give Is What You Get&lt;/i&gt;… Reflect what you want to receive… and I am sure things will be a lot better then…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-111454539819896234?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/111454539819896234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=111454539819896234' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111454539819896234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111454539819896234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/04/wugiwug.html' title='WUGIWUG'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-111397996438734290</id><published>2005-04-20T14:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-04-21T18:24:03.600-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tring Tring!</title><content type='html'>It's the usual story... Trrrrrrrriiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnggggggg Ttttttttttrrrrrriiiiinnnngggg - there goes my fone.... ringing once again... oh my GOD! How could it have happened???? I am lost... I just remembered my head landing on the pillow a second back..hmmm, but then the alarm couldn't be wrong! &lt;br /&gt;I slowly slide my head out of the comforter and with a Herculean effort I pop one eye open to check the time... Gosh! It is really well past time... after cursing the phone for having been in a working condition at the most "inappropriate" time, I realize that I can't avoid the inevitable.. :(( so I eventually get up and I am greeted with a series of phone calls in a short time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the way my day usually begins... I wonder what I would do if not for the cell phone...I am one person who keeps jabbering most of the time... especially over the fone... It all began....(tortoise effect... flashback)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21 years back...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scene 1:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom: "Kozhandai enna panra?"&lt;br /&gt;My dad: "Ava paati kitta irukka"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom wonders why I haven't made a sound for more than an hour now... so she's all curious to know whats keeping me entertained....&lt;br /&gt;To her utter disbelief it was the telephone that had kept me silent... I was more than amused at the age of 1 by Graham Bell's invention... and initially even my parents were proud to say that their kid knew to operate the phone... but....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(17 years later...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scene 2:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Postman: Sir, post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of us in the family would go and pick up the mail that was just dropped... If there was a letter from the BSNL, then I would know that lady luck had momentarily deserted me... (I guess everything is self-explanatory from here on!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;I&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The concluding part of Scene 1 was never enacted in my life again! I wonder how things change so soon :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/I&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Back to present)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such is the current situation too! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well fone (telephone ya mobile fone) has always been a part and parcel of my life... kept me in constant touch with my dear ones... and I am sure that I will continue to use it the same way for the rest of my life...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ennai thaniya island la vittu ore oru saamaan allowed nu sonna telephone thaan vennumnu kekara aalu naan!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently came across an &lt;a href="http://www.geocities.com/deeps1482/files/Mobile.ppt.ppt"&gt;article&lt;/a&gt; that I want to share with people like me... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh ok guys,gtg as my cell is ringing.... ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-111397996438734290?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/111397996438734290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=111397996438734290' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111397996438734290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111397996438734290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/04/tring-tring.html' title='Tring Tring!'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12260374.post-111384186807650911</id><published>2005-04-18T14:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-04-18T14:29:26.536-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Is Life Beautiful???</title><content type='html'>Well the best part of creating a blogspot is to make use of it....and I was one person who failed to do so...so here I am in a new avatar, all set to put my thinking caps on and give my best shot at writing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is Life really beautiful....Hmmm, thats one thing that I would like to clarify before I really get down to writing another blog...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life style has changed a lot over the past few months... My mind's eye can visualize a few things which now seem to be alien...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long queues in stores and theaters just at the time when you were late to work; auto meters that run faster than an Olympics marathon runner; times when two thirupathi laddoos seemed to be a blessing in disguise; exhaust pipes of lorries that blow smoke and ruin your favorite dress; fantasies that picturize the surroundings described by Keats and Wordsworth while your neighbor dumps his garbage just outside your house; travel on roads that will make void of theme parks....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;even beyond all these issues...LIFE was BEAUTIFUL....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whats LIFE but&lt;br /&gt;Love&lt;br /&gt;Involvement &amp; Insipiration&lt;br /&gt;Family &amp;amp; Friends&lt;br /&gt;Experience &amp;amp; Effervescence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Times of merry making with friends... laughing over a small mistake made by a dear one, sharing a cup of tea and chit chatting about things from childhood... cuddling your fave teddy... listening to soft, romantic music... getting wet in the rain and enjoying the early morning dew... watching the full moon and having a long walk along the shore with someone special... bagging a prize in a competition... baking a cake for your parents on their wedding day (even though it doesn't look or taste like one!!!)... seeing a tear roll down ur cheek when you realize that you have achieved your goal... making someone smile... lending a helping hand... a realization that you are loved... pillow fights.... going thru old pics... night outs... a secret thats shared with ur close mates... scented candles and flowers... playing with babies... ice creams and chocolates (yummmyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!)....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't all these make LIFE worthwhile????...&lt;br /&gt;My LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12260374-111384186807650911?l=diyaaram.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/feeds/111384186807650911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12260374&amp;postID=111384186807650911' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111384186807650911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12260374/posts/default/111384186807650911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diyaaram.blogspot.com/2005/04/is-life-beautiful.html' title='Is Life Beautiful???'/><author><name>DR</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08498649928340362339</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry></feed>
