<?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:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' 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-1252954419072582749</id><updated>2024-09-10T18:02:03.853+01:00</updated><category term="Ruminations"/><category term="Carpe diem"/><category term="day"/><category term="life"/><category term="limbo"/><category term="living"/><category term="memories"/><category term="mind"/><category term="moment"/><category term="musings"/><category term="random"/><category term="wandering"/><title type='text'>Aawaargi</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.aawaargi.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1252954419072582749/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.aawaargi.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Rini</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17017361518512488357</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>6</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1252954419072582749.post-2248571493784498648</id><published>2014-07-20T13:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2019-05-23T08:48:00.125+01:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Ruminations"/><title type='text'>Tales Of The Time When Man Saved The Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
Tales of the time when man saved the day&lt;br /&gt;
When the land bled red and the sky turned grey&lt;br /&gt;
He shot down a bird&lt;br /&gt;
And became a hero for his world&lt;br /&gt;
The bird that bore a million hearts&lt;br /&gt;
Let many a dream thwart&lt;br /&gt;
But fear not, everything is under control&lt;br /&gt;
For we are a civilisation, proud of our patrol&lt;br /&gt;
What is a dead bird, you ask&lt;br /&gt;
When saving real lives is his task&lt;br /&gt;
Of real people, of real heroes&lt;br /&gt;
Of saviours of our state&lt;br /&gt;
When maps are re-drawn&lt;br /&gt;
When allegiance is withdrawn&lt;br /&gt;
When important decisions made&lt;br /&gt;
And that World Cup Germany takes&lt;br /&gt;
What is a dead bird, you ask?&lt;br /&gt;
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Tales of the time when man saved the day&lt;br /&gt;
When the land bled red and the sky turned grey&lt;br /&gt;
He picked up his gun, and shot down again&lt;br /&gt;
This time a kindle of kittens on a beach playing in the sun&lt;br /&gt;
Why a kindle, you ask?&lt;br /&gt;
How dare they be born in the wrong place&lt;br /&gt;
And dare ask for the wrong God&#39;s grace&lt;br /&gt;
It is a moral obligation to teach them a lesson&lt;br /&gt;
That the right God doesn&#39;t teach aggression&lt;br /&gt;
Man fulfils his duty in every which way&lt;br /&gt;
Don&#39;t you understand, they were leading lives astray?&lt;br /&gt;
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Tales of the time when man saved the day,&lt;br /&gt;
When the land bled red and the sky turned grey&lt;br /&gt;
He grabbed his bottle and gulped down his ale&lt;br /&gt;
He saw a kitten, young and frail&lt;br /&gt;
Ravaged by him, she could run nowhere&lt;br /&gt;
Her soul, her dignity lay there bare&lt;br /&gt;
Why a kitten, you ask?&lt;br /&gt;
How dare she be let out without a mask&lt;br /&gt;
How dare she talk and bare her waist&lt;br /&gt;
She was asking for it, I say&lt;br /&gt;
Deserved to be punished for her ways&lt;br /&gt;
Man always intends to do some good,&lt;br /&gt;
Don&#39;t you see, it is for the safety of womanhood?&lt;br /&gt;
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Tales of the time when man saved the day,&lt;br /&gt;
When the land bled red and the sky turned grey.&lt;br /&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.aawaargi.com/feeds/2248571493784498648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.aawaargi.com/2014/07/tales-of-time-when-man-saved-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1252954419072582749/posts/default/2248571493784498648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1252954419072582749/posts/default/2248571493784498648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.aawaargi.com/2014/07/tales-of-time-when-man-saved-day.html' title='Tales Of The Time When Man Saved The Day'/><author><name>Rini</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17017361518512488357</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1252954419072582749.post-126101951136461135</id><published>2013-06-05T20:32:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2014-07-20T14:23:13.812+01:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Ruminations"/><title type='text'>The silence breaker</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
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After a long awkward silence, I am writing after a long time today. Aawaargi never stopped but its travelogue had to. A few months ago I realised that freedom of expression does not guarantee freedom from being judged. I was in between jobs last year, giving interviews and waiting to hear from employers. Unfortunately, it was the beginning of summer and employers seemed more interested in taking exotic vacations than hiring new employees. The slightest delay in their response would raise a thousand questions in my mind. Did I do something wrong in the interviews? Did I present myself well? Did I give the right answers? Is my nationality an issue? And so on. Any more delays or rejections and I would repeatedly check my Facebook, Twitter and G+ accounts like a paranoiac&amp;nbsp;to make sure&amp;nbsp;they&amp;nbsp;were private. I searched myself on google time and again to see what others saw when they searched for me. After all&amp;nbsp;I am quite an opinionated person. &quot;Aawaargi is private to subscribers&quot;, I thought. &quot;That can&#39;t be an issue&quot;, I would reason. But the fear of being judged by recruiters soon gripped my family and Aawaargi had to be silenced after a few small posts. I kept writing but never published the posts.&lt;/div&gt;
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A few days ago, my favourite author Paulo Coelho tweeted :&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kRcn66ic0l0/UY1B4hQa5lI/AAAAAAAAFjA/Jxt37LBH2Ds/s1600/Twitter+-+paulocoelho-+The+best+way+to+live+a+miserable+....png&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;191&quot; src=&quot;http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kRcn66ic0l0/UY1B4hQa5lI/AAAAAAAAFjA/Jxt37LBH2Ds/s400/Twitter+-+paulocoelho-+The+best+way+to+live+a+miserable+....png&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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And then came the actual realisation : &quot;I was miserable.&quot; Closing down Aawaargi was one of the most painful decisions I have ever made. It was like asking me to stop thinking or breathing in open air. And yet I did it.I am not a professional writer, have no financial or social gains from writing and let&#39;s be honest, I am not even regular! Neither do I have many followers. But Aawaargi was my way of reaching out to people, of writing what was on my mind, of thinking out loud and perhaps, on the way learn something about myself and other people. And so, I have now reached the conclusion that there is only one life to live and one cannot waste it worrying about what others think. The more afraid we are of people&#39;s opinions about us or our work, the more we suppress our creativity and our desire to explore. We are afraid of making mistakes and then learning from them.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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So from now on, Aawaargi will never stop. I will try to post as regularly as possible and continue recording my journeys regardless of what anyone thinks.&lt;/div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.aawaargi.com/feeds/126101951136461135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.aawaargi.com/2013/06/the-silence-breaker.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1252954419072582749/posts/default/126101951136461135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1252954419072582749/posts/default/126101951136461135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.aawaargi.com/2013/06/the-silence-breaker.html' title='The silence breaker'/><author><name>Rini</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17017361518512488357</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kRcn66ic0l0/UY1B4hQa5lI/AAAAAAAAFjA/Jxt37LBH2Ds/s72-c/Twitter+-+paulocoelho-+The+best+way+to+live+a+miserable+....png" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1252954419072582749.post-651025572993808550</id><published>2011-11-01T20:18:00.000+00:00</published><updated>2011-11-01T20:21:27.855+00:00</updated><title type='text'>Awkward Silence</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
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I was thinking about the the number of times we get into an awkward silence while talking to people (read friends, family and&amp;nbsp;acquaintances)......&lt;/div&gt;
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And that&#39;s one awkward silence you got into with me while reading this post !!:) Now you can stop smirking and think about the most awkward silence you encountered and share it if you please.&lt;/div&gt;
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And guess what! I found an iPhone app called the &#39;Awkward Silence Breaker&#39; which is absolutely hilarious! One can set a timer on awkward silence and depending on the &#39;time limit&#39; and &#39;sensitivity&#39; the app breaks the silence using sound or vibration. How innovative I must say! I guess we have given up on our communication skills already!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Well if you don&#39;t like the above method of breaking an awkward silence you can try this one I found over the internet:&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;img alt=&quot;Cartoon about avoiding awkward silences&quot; height=&quot;216&quot; src=&quot;http://www.andys-blog.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/Awkward_Silence.png&quot; width=&quot;640&quot; /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.aawaargi.com/feeds/651025572993808550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.aawaargi.com/2011/11/awkward-silence.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1252954419072582749/posts/default/651025572993808550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1252954419072582749/posts/default/651025572993808550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.aawaargi.com/2011/11/awkward-silence.html' title='Awkward Silence'/><author><name>Rini</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17017361518512488357</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1252954419072582749.post-5023511942586748248</id><published>2011-10-11T12:16:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2014-07-20T14:23:13.821+01:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Ruminations"/><title type='text'>Carpe Diem-contd.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
In continuation of my last blog post.I found this on Facebook.&lt;div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvAcNCP28Djbi03vHExMznr_ytRVcLvljM3VKLRdIY_H1ODzmlBwjNHeizHXgyurE6NGFEyL2KD3u0ndd_kCVDNjdr1xS-sQC2YblZvBHr3bHheoMr2Ar_1AttoGWOoe7ZiHUn3KYWkDu3/s1600/309625_10150416548797345_617507344_9964736_128487183_n.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;217&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvAcNCP28Djbi03vHExMznr_ytRVcLvljM3VKLRdIY_H1ODzmlBwjNHeizHXgyurE6NGFEyL2KD3u0ndd_kCVDNjdr1xS-sQC2YblZvBHr3bHheoMr2Ar_1AttoGWOoe7ZiHUn3KYWkDu3/s320/309625_10150416548797345_617507344_9964736_128487183_n.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.aawaargi.com/feeds/5023511942586748248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.aawaargi.com/2011/10/carpe-diem-contd.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1252954419072582749/posts/default/5023511942586748248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1252954419072582749/posts/default/5023511942586748248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.aawaargi.com/2011/10/carpe-diem-contd.html' title='Carpe Diem-contd.'/><author><name>Rini</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17017361518512488357</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvAcNCP28Djbi03vHExMznr_ytRVcLvljM3VKLRdIY_H1ODzmlBwjNHeizHXgyurE6NGFEyL2KD3u0ndd_kCVDNjdr1xS-sQC2YblZvBHr3bHheoMr2Ar_1AttoGWOoe7ZiHUn3KYWkDu3/s72-c/309625_10150416548797345_617507344_9964736_128487183_n.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1252954419072582749.post-1616896946616856723</id><published>2011-08-07T23:03:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2014-07-20T14:23:13.815+01:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Carpe diem"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="day"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="limbo"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="living"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="moment"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Ruminations"/><title type='text'>Carpe Diem</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEpWmKNXeAWDKLKlcQIBA6ZhEeaK3mV9rPqLubcGhHxSjWB7zQEwBsxF7ehFcy91KRS60uBWBDJp1M2N0DxWiQYFJ-nEOywzfIriGGzQ5YJh_9T8U2NpshrV_V9nFH6MeLEf8AR9qZKoPg/s1600/sketch1.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEpWmKNXeAWDKLKlcQIBA6ZhEeaK3mV9rPqLubcGhHxSjWB7zQEwBsxF7ehFcy91KRS60uBWBDJp1M2N0DxWiQYFJ-nEOywzfIriGGzQ5YJh_9T8U2NpshrV_V9nFH6MeLEf8AR9qZKoPg/s400/sketch1.jpg&quot; width=&quot;306&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;What are we waiting for?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;Ever been in a state of limbo? Being haunted by those niggling questions like how things will turn out, what will happen, when will I know about it, isn&#39;t a nice feeling. I know because I am in one. Limbo. The state of mind when you are just hanging, in the middle of nowhere. Sometimes it leads to anxiety, sometimes pain and sometimes it just leads to indifference. &lt;i&gt;Que sera sera&lt;/i&gt; (whatever will be, will be), at least that&#39;s how I have learnt to take things in life.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;The point to ponder here is when are we &#39;not&#39; in a state of limbo? Aren&#39;t we&amp;nbsp;always&amp;nbsp;waiting for something to happen? The beauty of the human mind is that it can never be satiated. Almost always we want something very badly, so badly that we base our lives on it. We forget everything else in the mad chase for that one single desire we deem worthy of all the pains and turmoils. And when we get what we wanted, we move on. Instead of relishing our feat we find another &#39;desire&#39; we reckon is so precious we could sacrifice every comfort in the world for it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;A week back I was coming back from a friend&#39;s place in the night. I boarded the last bus available that night and realized I had forgotten my travel card. I took out a tenner and gave it to the bus driver to buy a ticket. The driver couldn&#39;t find enough change and so asked me to find a fiver at least. I looked skeptically at the 4 people sitting in the bus, when this old man started digging for change in his wallet. When he couldn&#39;t find enough for ten, he asked me how much I had and he&#39;d give me the rest. I was short of a pound and he gave me one without a second thought. I said&amp;nbsp;in a meek voice&amp;nbsp;&quot;Are you sure?&quot; , he smiled and replied &quot;Yes, please take it&quot; and then turned to a young man sitting parallel to him and said &quot;Life&#39;s too short.&quot; I was overwhelmed with gratitude for this old man but couldn&#39;t say anything. Walking back alone with that heavy laptop bag on my shoulder, in the dark of the night would have been a nightmare.&amp;nbsp;It wasn&#39;t a &#39;life-changing&#39; experience but it surely brought a smile on my face.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;But there was something in the old man&#39;s way of saying &#39;Life&#39;s too short&quot; that got me thinking. A man, probably in his 80s, says life&#39;s too short. Will I be saying this when I grow old? Or will I say that I have lived a good life, enjoyed every moment of it. When was the last time I did something thinking life&#39;s too short?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;We plan out our lives ahead and work towards our goals thinking we are going to live forever! And in this wild goose chase of attaining an almost never-ending list of desires we forget to do those little things that actually give us happiness. Helping someone or doing something for someone else seems like an ordeal. &quot;What&#39;s in it for me?&quot;, we often ask. Criticism comes naturally to us but we struggle with words of appreciation and empathy. We admire the music playing in our earphones but don&#39;t care to lend an ear to &amp;nbsp;people when they talk.&amp;nbsp;We pretend to care about the world by drowning ourselves in a newspaper on the bus but forget to offer our seat to an old lady standing next to us.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;I know that it&#39;s easier said than done. That it&#39;s not a fairy tale world and that life&#39;s much tougher than this stupid post on a blog makes it feel like. Well, of course it is. But I say what the hell !! Even if I gotta slog for my &#39;bigger&#39; plan in life, &#39;living&#39; a little never hurt anyone. One doesn&#39;t need to be a King to live life like one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;As Horace, the Roman poet puts it in&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Carpe Diem”&lt;/i&gt;, or “&lt;i&gt;pluck the day&lt;/i&gt;”:&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;i&gt;&quot;Ask not—we cannot know—what end the gods have set for you, for me; nor attempt the Babylonian reckonings Leuconoë. How much better to endure whatever comes, whether Jupiter grants us additional winters or whether this is our last, which now wears out the Tuscan Sea upon the barrier of the cliffs! Be wise, strain the wine; and since life is brief, prune back far-reaching hopes! Even while we speak, envious time has passed: pluck the day, putting as little trust as possible in tomorrow!&quot;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.aawaargi.com/feeds/1616896946616856723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.aawaargi.com/2011/08/carpe-diem.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1252954419072582749/posts/default/1616896946616856723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1252954419072582749/posts/default/1616896946616856723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.aawaargi.com/2011/08/carpe-diem.html' title='Carpe Diem'/><author><name>Rini</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17017361518512488357</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEpWmKNXeAWDKLKlcQIBA6ZhEeaK3mV9rPqLubcGhHxSjWB7zQEwBsxF7ehFcy91KRS60uBWBDJp1M2N0DxWiQYFJ-nEOywzfIriGGzQ5YJh_9T8U2NpshrV_V9nFH6MeLEf8AR9qZKoPg/s72-c/sketch1.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1252954419072582749.post-8972125617519822534</id><published>2011-07-22T13:15:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2014-07-20T14:23:13.825+01:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="memories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mind"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="musings"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="random"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Ruminations"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="wandering"/><title type='text'>Lonely Wanderings</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;line-height: 18px; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; &quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot;&gt;Kal shab mujhe beshakl ki awaaz ne chaunka diya,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;line-height: 18px; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; &quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot;&gt;Main ne kaha tu kaun hai, usne kaha aawaargi..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;line-height: 18px; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; &quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;line-height: 18px; font-style: italic; &quot;&gt;(Last night a strange face-less voice startled me,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;line-height: 18px; font-style: italic; &quot;&gt;I asked, who are you, it said- a lonely wandering)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;line-height: 18px; font-style: italic; &quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;line-height: 18px;&quot;&gt;Even though I created this blog long back, I never made any of my posts public. But these days my mind is plagued with thoughts and emotions. I was listening to this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;line-height: 18px; &quot;&gt;ghazal &lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;line-height: 18px; &quot;&gt;called&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;line-height: 18px;&quot;&gt; &#39;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;line-height: 18px; &quot;&gt;Aawaargi&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;line-height: 18px;&quot;&gt;&#39; by Ghulam Ali yesterday and realized something. I realized how people change, how I have changed over the years. How I hated this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;line-height: 18px; &quot;&gt;ghazal&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;line-height: 18px;&quot;&gt; till a few years back,when my dad played it over and over. Today it makes perfect sense to me. My heart is now aligned with my mind&#39;s lonely wanderings or &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;line-height: 18px; &quot;&gt;&#39;Aawaargi&#39;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;line-height: 18px;&quot;&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;line-height: 18px; &quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;line-height: 18px; &quot;&gt;The mind is a mystic place, an infinite vault, that homes the plethora of our thoughts, feelings, images, memories, emotions, secrets and knowledge. The mind has no rules, no inhibitions, no boundaries. There is no morality, no judgement, no fear, no condemnation. It is only when we stir our thoughts, emotions and feelings with our knowledge of the outer world, that we develop morals, we judge everything and everyone around us, but most of all, ourselves, our actions, our deeds. We fear not others, but ourselves the most. For tomorrow, we have to justify the same thoughts in our minds again. The mind knows no stigma, it is Spotless. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;line-height: 18px; &quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;line-height: 18px; &quot;&gt;It is amazing, how sometimes we try to find solace from the internal chaos of our minds in the outer world, and how sometimes we find peace within the mind itself, when we want to run away from the outer chaos. The punishment for committing the act of thinking is  sometimes wandering and chaos and...... sometimes its peace. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;line-height: 18px; &quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;line-height: 18px;&quot;&gt;Buried deep in my vault are thoughts I dare not let out, emotions I am unaware of , feelings that if converted into actions would only be disastrous. For years, we struggle with these, and yet, there comes a time, when they become mere strangers passing-by in the city of our mind. Some of them feel familiar, we look at them and smile. There are some that we had forgotten completely and they startle us with what they know about us. And then there are some, that we wish never became strangers, never faded into oblivion and stayed with us forever............... as memories. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;line-height: 18px; &quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;line-height: 18px; &quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;line-height: 18px; &quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;line-height: 18px; &quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;line-height: 18px; &quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-family: &#39;Trebuchet MS&#39;, Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); &quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;line-height: 18px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; &quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-family: &#39;Trebuchet MS&#39;, Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); &quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;line-height: 18px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; &quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.aawaargi.com/feeds/8972125617519822534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.aawaargi.com/2011/07/lonely-wanderings.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1252954419072582749/posts/default/8972125617519822534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1252954419072582749/posts/default/8972125617519822534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.aawaargi.com/2011/07/lonely-wanderings.html' title='Lonely Wanderings'/><author><name>Rini</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17017361518512488357</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>