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term="university"/><category term="village"/><category term="weddings"/><category term="wife"/><category term="women rights. indian bride"/><category term="women rights. separation"/><category term="work place"/><category term="world"/><title type='text'>Losing Our Human Side</title><subtitle type='html'>My posts in this blog in some way or the other try to bring out the attitude of man towards others......Little observations or experiences I have everyday.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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>48</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-177542249889919129</id><published>2017-03-25T08:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2017-03-25T09:02:35.114-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="answers"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="commitment"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="devotion"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="melancholy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="philosophy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="questions"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="retrospection"/><title type='text'>Melancholy Sets In</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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Melancholy. I’m sitting down to write after more than a year. I am nervous and I am uncertain what I shall reproduce. I’ve experienced so much in the past year; fallen and gotten up, beaten myself down over the smallest things, read about as diverse topics as I could lay my hands on but most important of all, I’ve understood myself much more deeply than ever before. This is perhaps what causes me the most anxiety, fear and melancholy.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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We all see our lives as a journey towards a goal, anything that gives our lives meaning. I’ve always had a tendency of judging people based on where this meaning lies for them. So the world is always divided into the good and the evil for me. I’ve begun to question this. This scares me!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_cJ_ZxFyvwzS_K97JDmw-eif8UWfinV1BrYxSphdnkvsdVGa9oJ88D2mDkV7yeU5ETnveHelT7nWKXu1qxmJ3L0WYBMGbhUaorWLClnBjb6CsIVnFhoRoQGbhCs11P1WiQpLm2Smj_8g/s1600/melancholy.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_cJ_ZxFyvwzS_K97JDmw-eif8UWfinV1BrYxSphdnkvsdVGa9oJ88D2mDkV7yeU5ETnveHelT7nWKXu1qxmJ3L0WYBMGbhUaorWLClnBjb6CsIVnFhoRoQGbhCs11P1WiQpLm2Smj_8g/s1600/melancholy.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Buddha said that we all create our own realities. This means we see the world solely based on our opinions and assumptions, hence the perceived world is an artificial creation with a million million versions of it, ever changing and ever evolving only in our heads.&amp;nbsp; Which version of the world am I carrying? And what makes me right? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Throughout history there have been people who have devoted themselves to their families, tribes, kingdoms, philosophies or nations. I was watching a documentary, before I sat down to materialise this melancholy, of a nation built on the devotion and sacrifice of people such as those. After decades of service all that they were left with were old and faded pictures of young, enthusiastic and committed versions of themselves, people who saw great meaning in what they were doing years ago. But pictures and memories is all they had now.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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The ideas I find meaning in are certainly different from theirs, almost polar opposites. They were wrong and I am obviously right! A year ago, I would have been naïve enough to think that that was enough to guarantee a much more contented and celebrated conclusion to my life, but I am older now. I understand that we all find meaning in something or the other and divide the world into the worthy and the unworthy. &amp;nbsp;In our heads we are all right! We are all right! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Then who is to guarantee that when I am old and withered, I will not be staring at my wall of old pictures of when I was young, enthusiastic and committed and watch myself fade away just as my pictures? I am afraid there is no one who can answer this question for me. I am older now, yet I am not closer to my answer. And perhaps this is what I was afraid of facing when the thought of sitting down and writing crossed my head, that I have found meaning in my life, but am completely unsure whether I am wrong or right. And I shall only know when I am old and withered and look back at my life in retrospect. Wouldn’t it be too late then? Melancholy sets in…&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/177542249889919129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2017/03/melancholy-sets-in.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/177542249889919129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/177542249889919129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2017/03/melancholy-sets-in.html' title='Melancholy Sets In'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEg_cJ_ZxFyvwzS_K97JDmw-eif8UWfinV1BrYxSphdnkvsdVGa9oJ88D2mDkV7yeU5ETnveHelT7nWKXu1qxmJ3L0WYBMGbhUaorWLClnBjb6CsIVnFhoRoQGbhCs11P1WiQpLm2Smj_8g/s72-c/melancholy.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-5651696625954833561</id><published>2016-05-03T12:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2016-05-03T12:28:28.894-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="authority"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="behaivour. society"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bias"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="boss"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="education"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="equality"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="performance"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pygmalion effect"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="rejection"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="result"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="self-confidence"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="self-doubt"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work place"/><title type='text'>He Only Picked The Best</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve always had a problem with authority, the upper hand, the boss. The teachers at my school, the Program Director at my work place or even my mother for that matter, all of their powers disturbed me(It still does!). Among everything that they had control over, or thought they had control over, was their power to tell you that you&#39;re wrong, that you&#39;re not good enough and to be able to pick out the best among the class.&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;We&#39;ve all faced that moment when we were not among the special group of golden students, workers or players who had supposedly achieved above average performances. The absurdity behind this age-old practice of &quot;picking out the best&quot; hit me the most in my previous work place. Whenever we had to show-case our programs diversity, milestones achieved, competencies of team-players and so on and so forth, our program director would pick out the &quot;best of the best&quot;, in his opinion and train them further to play out the best show. If an image of puppets dancing around came into your head then you are probably not that wrong.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4x_e9fl3_rhun207OJaTdMmj0eSIzG-ZiypKMDqedoyE17nfqCs9yUsFTjnk3K5WSHQOWzxYc_SAmasqdavvs6emJo-AFo0qKcrECfn352q7SqxwHVetFUXBu-_YIDgaxplbQ3ouqZds/s1600/control.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4x_e9fl3_rhun207OJaTdMmj0eSIzG-ZiypKMDqedoyE17nfqCs9yUsFTjnk3K5WSHQOWzxYc_SAmasqdavvs6emJo-AFo0qKcrECfn352q7SqxwHVetFUXBu-_YIDgaxplbQ3ouqZds/s320/control.jpg&quot; width=&quot;300&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Weeding out the non-performers we call it. Yes, apparently equating people to weeds is considered &quot;good for performance and results&quot; in our society. More often than not the same &quot;achievers&quot; got picked for every event or seminar. Which meant that the amount of training they received, the exposure they got and the networks they could create began to grow far more than the rest of the group. I have a question coming to mind, not sure what exactly, but &lt;i&gt;Equality &lt;/i&gt;is certainly there somewhere!&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;What&#39;s so wrong with this practice you ask? Doesn&#39;t it motivate the &quot;non-achievers&quot; to perform you say? Let me give you my favourite example. Imagine a class of a hundred children. According to our utterly misconstrued understanding of Darwin&#39;s &lt;i&gt;survival of the fittest &lt;/i&gt;theory, we pick out about one or two or a maximum of five &quot;best players&quot;. We congratulate them, we train them further and provide them with opportunities we think they deserve(Let&#39;s not even talk about privileges and neurology here!). The question here is, what about the rest of the 95?&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqGfBKyPs9sROB_Rg8oMI0ITmm8zoz1VO8sKYSNxLhy7PkJuThoJYT4Ni8iYiSFKzmkosPS8b8RLNputq_y-u5Bzcu2AG83p5KFkNl8-YJcPPwlUH4MQgJs79s_Bw78hS-sshLwIVihmg/s1600/pygmalio+effect.png&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;281&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqGfBKyPs9sROB_Rg8oMI0ITmm8zoz1VO8sKYSNxLhy7PkJuThoJYT4Ni8iYiSFKzmkosPS8b8RLNputq_y-u5Bzcu2AG83p5KFkNl8-YJcPPwlUH4MQgJs79s_Bw78hS-sshLwIVihmg/s320/pygmalio+effect.png&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;NO! The reality is that the rest of them are not &quot;motivated&quot; to do better, on the contrary, they are de-motivated, their self-respect and self-confidence is massacred and we push them further into oblivion where they aren&#39;t recognised or mentored for the progress they make at their own pace(the key word being &#39;at their own pace&#39; here). The hundred pupils in the class today are going to become full grown citizens of our world tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;The bottom line is that we are churning out population after population that believes only a very small percentage of them is good enough and the rest just keep on trying and trying and trying to be like that &quot;top-tier&quot;, that honestly, got recognised once or twice for good work and were later picked out thanks to intrinsic bias on the part of the authority figure and something called the &lt;i&gt;Pygmalion effect&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;(trust me, look this theory up! especially if you are someone who is responsible for a lot of young minds)&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;The pain behind rejection hit me the most when I saw and heard from the people who doubted their abilities and almost gave up working on themselves only because of having experienced rejection at the hands of our program director, team-mates who were not &quot;good and refined enough&quot; to be representing our program in front of outsiders.&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;He isn&#39;t the only one doing the apple-picking, we as a society do it to our children and young minds everyday - in schools, in work-places, at homes, etc. We continue to make a large population of our communities doubt themselves and wonder what they are good for, when infact every individual &lt;i&gt;is &lt;/i&gt;truly unique and capable of contributing to anything and everything around them and bigger than them. If only my program manager, my teachers and even my mother knew that they could too, just by tweaking their attitude towards &quot;failures&quot; and looking at them as equal opportunities(the key word being &quot;equal&quot; here).&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;georgia&amp;quot; , &amp;quot;times new roman&amp;quot; , serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #660000; font-family: &amp;quot;georgia&amp;quot; , &amp;quot;times new roman&amp;quot; , serif;&quot;&gt;You think this might have given you a little food for thought? Then do also take some time to read :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;georgia&amp;quot; , &amp;quot;times new roman&amp;quot; , serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2015/05/burying-our-daughters.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Burying Our Daughters&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2016/04/changing-world.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;georgia&amp;quot; , &amp;quot;times new roman&amp;quot; , serif;&quot;&gt;Changing The World&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/5651696625954833561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2016/05/the-rest-of-class.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/5651696625954833561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/5651696625954833561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2016/05/the-rest-of-class.html' title='He Only Picked The Best'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEi4x_e9fl3_rhun207OJaTdMmj0eSIzG-ZiypKMDqedoyE17nfqCs9yUsFTjnk3K5WSHQOWzxYc_SAmasqdavvs6emJo-AFo0qKcrECfn352q7SqxwHVetFUXBu-_YIDgaxplbQ3ouqZds/s72-c/control.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-2256219156375795818</id><published>2016-04-26T06:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2016-04-26T06:27:52.836-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="change"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="change the world"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="make a difference"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="preaching"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Gandhi Fellowship"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="transformation"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="world"/><title type='text'>Changing The World?</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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&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;206&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP3KKl98fYvhaH4HBVPdDZcc6xlcRlfxYjjaD8P4vvDkg-pIUOCalv8qGJYo5qmmBkNPc2Je3cmp-qe4z774rcsXG8Zjz5G140_4nSH1574GGGo8vq5zt7fabPPatafpQ6U09QvJDUlc4/s320/diff.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;A lifetime of wanting to change the world, two years of being a part of a leadership programme to train to change the world and a year of cleansing myself of the hangover of wanting to change the world later, I&#39;ve finally found or rather re-discovered the answer that great minds have always disclosed, to the age old question of how to Change The World!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Whether we like to believe it or not the only being we ever truly have control over (close to complete control) is ourselves. As parents disciplining your children, as lovers making your partners quit smoking, as professors mentoring your students or religious extremists preaching your version of morality, you only have as much power over others as they let you have. Just as Brutus says in the play &#39;Julius ceasar&#39;, even slaves can&#39;t be ever owned as they have the power to end their lives and take away the upper hand of their masters.&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;When we spend crores of funding on large organisations, write heart-wrenching biographies and mentor young minds, the closest we get to changing the world is by creating an environment where people can see that there is a choice beyond their default consumeristic, capitalistic, narcissistic, parasitic (the list goes on really!) human self. We can create a world where that choice exists. We can never &lt;i&gt;make&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;someone choose the &lt;i&gt;right&lt;/i&gt; way of life. If we did, then what is the difference between the imperialist and us? &quot;Well our intentions are right&quot; you say? Well so thought Hitler! How can we ever be sure of the &lt;i&gt;right&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;way of living, of loving, of building, of co-existing, of praying, of partying! I&#39;ve learnt that we can only try, show people around us the way and pray to the cosmos that they join in the race to save our humanity. &lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Saying no to plastic, giving your seat to a senior citizen, calling out a racist, helping an injured animal, following your passions or even loving someone unconditionally, small actions like these help create that world where people can build that courage to do right, because we all know how hard it can be sometimes. Our responsibilities, our education and our religions don&#39;t let us but perhaps if we saw our neighbour plant a tree, so would we. Be that neighbour, change yourself and inspire change in others, because the only way you &lt;i&gt;can&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;Change The World is by Changing Yourself!&lt;/div&gt;
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Inspired? Read more :&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.spoopema.blogspot.in/2014/11/the-english-snob-that-i-was.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;The English Snob That I Was&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.spoopema.blogspot.in/2014/06/my-mom-is-beautiful.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;My Mom Is Beautiful&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/2256219156375795818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2016/04/changing-world.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/2256219156375795818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/2256219156375795818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2016/04/changing-world.html' title='Changing The World?'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEiP3KKl98fYvhaH4HBVPdDZcc6xlcRlfxYjjaD8P4vvDkg-pIUOCalv8qGJYo5qmmBkNPc2Je3cmp-qe4z774rcsXG8Zjz5G140_4nSH1574GGGo8vq5zt7fabPPatafpQ6U09QvJDUlc4/s72-c/diff.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-7116774735916351426</id><published>2016-04-18T09:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2016-04-18T09:51:11.323-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="breakups"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="chivalry"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="comfort zone"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="debate"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="heartbreak"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="lovers"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="marriage"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="parenthood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="parents"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="relationships"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sacrifice"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="unconditional love"/><title type='text'>The Indian Pyaar Kahani</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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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Boy meets&amp;nbsp;girl and falls in love. Girl hesitates but eventually falls in love. Boy proposes to get married. Girl says yes and they live happily forever more... Wait! This is an Indian love story. Can&#39;t do without a few speed bumps... Girl says yes but her parents disallow. So boy and girl separated forever! Another incomplete story to add to the collection of epic Indian love stories.&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Such was the tale of one of my friends too(actually several of my friends lately), who chivalrously gave up his true love because he didn&#39;t want his lover to choose between her parents and him. He said, &quot;When the choice is between your parents and your lover, it&#39;s an obvious choice isn&#39;t it?&quot;&lt;/div&gt;
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&quot;Your parents!&quot; he said.&lt;/div&gt;
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&quot;Your lover!&quot; I said simultaneously!&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Apparently not an obvious choice. After a brief awkward silence, as the rules of any combat proclaim, both sides have to present their sides.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&quot;Parents provide for us, they love us our whole lives and we have to be responsible children and listen to their wishes.&quot;, fortunately this is not what he said, though I am quite sure these reasons weren&#39;t mentioned because it was supposed to be understood.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Instead, he argued his family was accepting enough to have her as their bride, but if a situation had arisen that he had to choose between his family and his love, he would be torn. This he didn&#39;t want his lover to go through! Hence, the sacrifice...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I still went ahead with presenting my argument&amp;nbsp;because a debate is a debate! You do not let emotions sway you.&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;When it comes to planning or even just daydreaming about our lives, we tend to stick with our pasts. It is the familiar, regardless of the pain and the hardships we might have been through, it is something that is comfortable to us because we already know that journey. Unlike the future, which is wholly unknown. This is why it is sometimes so hard for us to let go of our past pains and attachments and move on. Therefore, we tend to make current decisions based on what we already know - the past.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: right; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYDhtOxejK9QEq0HluwPHlqV8Ej4BSDv6PWN3zqEtCwXNhd3_7ReqmsAveCK31NMGPXwyIkOBMglhxAX0f9z_zi-mbGwWZzYjMMJvZ6rA6zOGmGcdVzTNbPwxoDyOvlAIsrZb4MrGTtbw/s1600/kids1.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;202&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYDhtOxejK9QEq0HluwPHlqV8Ej4BSDv6PWN3zqEtCwXNhd3_7ReqmsAveCK31NMGPXwyIkOBMglhxAX0f9z_zi-mbGwWZzYjMMJvZ6rA6zOGmGcdVzTNbPwxoDyOvlAIsrZb4MrGTtbw/s320/kids1.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Picture taken from web&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;It is to this &lt;i&gt;past &lt;/i&gt;that I shall attach the&amp;nbsp;parents to,&amp;nbsp;since they are the familiar, the known. It conveniently slips our minds that the meaning of parents would drastically change in the future for most of us - parenthood! We are to become mothers and fathers ourselves and make decisions for our children. Who better to go on that journey than with someone you love and adore, someone who understands you and someone who is an equal partner in your life (considering that you have been lucky enough to find such a lover ofcourse!)&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;It is this that I went on to explain to my friend. When we let go and sacrifice our lover for the sake of a disagreement at home, we are letting go of our entire future, our children. Besides, they are your parents, they love unconditionally right? They&#39;ll accept it eventually if you tell them you did it for your children! So truly, the choice isn&#39;t between your parents and your lover, but more about sticking to your comfort zone and taking a leap into the future. I think I saw tears in his eyes.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;We couldn&#39;t decide who won the debate really, we both gave commendable performances. As they say, we agreed to disagree.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
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I don&#39;t just write about love and relationships :)&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.spoopema.blogspot.in/2015/06/when-earth-shook-and-tore-our-souls.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;When The Earth Shook And Tore Our Souls Apart&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.spoopema.blogspot.in/2013/09/just-trust-kids.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Just Trust The Kids!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/7116774735916351426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2016/04/the-indian-pyaar-kahani.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/7116774735916351426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/7116774735916351426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2016/04/the-indian-pyaar-kahani.html' title='The Indian Pyaar Kahani'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEhYDhtOxejK9QEq0HluwPHlqV8Ej4BSDv6PWN3zqEtCwXNhd3_7ReqmsAveCK31NMGPXwyIkOBMglhxAX0f9z_zi-mbGwWZzYjMMJvZ6rA6zOGmGcdVzTNbPwxoDyOvlAIsrZb4MrGTtbw/s72-c/kids1.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-2418009555666548533</id><published>2016-03-22T08:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2016-03-22T08:36:52.140-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="36 questions to love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="answers"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="connections"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fairytales"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friendships"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="psychology"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="questions"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="romantic love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ted talk"/><title type='text'>36 Questions to love... Love?</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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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAgSjFFmE_Idzw6EARcQJ0PLC2rYWbn_0CAdZ-xwpWMbwuE2URg3MBqQ65B5GiQPPP7JNx3aVcdn8EcVqKrd-EXyg5WQrMCvS1zr1y2p7it01y2W09owFNQplRJHkgy3QV5qj0t_nCdTg/s1600/hearts.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;213&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAgSjFFmE_Idzw6EARcQJ0PLC2rYWbn_0CAdZ-xwpWMbwuE2URg3MBqQ65B5GiQPPP7JNx3aVcdn8EcVqKrd-EXyg5WQrMCvS1zr1y2p7it01y2W09owFNQplRJHkgy3QV5qj0t_nCdTg/s320/hearts.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Love has been on my mind a lot lately and who better to answer my questions than the internet? It was then that I came across a wonderfully intriguing&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href=&quot;https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3aYWvujaT6M&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;TED talk by Mandy Len Catron&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;titled &quot;Falling in love is the easy part&quot;. Love and Easy in the same sentence? Now this I had to check out!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Turns out that the speaker Mandy, just like me, wanted to experiment with the ever mysterious phenomenon of falling in love, and realised that the only way to &#39;figure it out&#39; was to fall in love! So here we were, two single but adventurous women, ready to fall in love. Oh but only if we knew how! Apparently she had figured out a way(borrowed from a psychology experiment) and I too set out to find the ideal guy to try it out with... and I did find him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; There are a&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href=&quot;https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/open-gently/201310/36-questions-bring-you-closer-together&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;set of 36 questions&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;that you ask each other (where the partner and you are fairly strangers to each other) and most importantly, openly share and actively listen to each other. The original scientist shared that a couple from the original sample group ended up marrying each other, apart from several successful relationships that commenced and Mandy herself had found a long term relationship that she was still in. Now I was getting really excited!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Fortunately for me, I found the most understanding and mature guy, who was also adventurous and a good listener. Just the guinea pig I needed(Don&#39;t worry he knows I&#39;m writing about him). The questions began with the cliche &quot;Who would you invite as a dinner guest, if you could invite anybody?&quot;. I obviously has The Buddha over for Biryani and he had his late grandpa over for Butter chicken. The questions deepened gradually towards our most treasured memories and death of loved ones. You get the flow...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;As we answered and listened to each other, it was almost as if all our hesitations and our fears were put aside and we truly wanted to share each other&#39;s stories. It was then that I realised I couldn&#39;t remember the last time I had done something like this, the last time I had truly shared my life with someone and more importantly listened to someone. This wasn&#39;t love, but what we were feeling was the most essential element of human existence that makes life beautiful; Connection.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;We were connecting primarily as human beings sans all the external identities that our societies have given us, in an open and free environment that these 36 questions to love, helped create. How fascinating! I could notice that we were smiling more at each other and were much more at ease in each other&#39;s company. Was Cupid flying somewhere close by?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;But a question more interesting that this raises, is whether love can be created? What happens to all our fairytales and fables of that one true love and love at first sight? I think we humans were never made to love just one person. Our hearts are genuinely capable of a love larger than our stories make us believe. We shall only know if we let our hearts love...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Another interesting aspect of the 36 questions we noticed was a cleverly repeated question where we had to share positive points about our partner and tell them what we liked about them. Though the degrees or intensities varied, the premise was the same - see the good in the person in front of you and appreciate them. You know what I&#39;m going to say next; oh how often do we do this with people around us? (Good! you&#39;re catching on)&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;We took a few days to finish all the 36 questions, but as promised the 37th question was not &quot;Will you marry me?&quot; for us, so no wedding bells or circles around the fire as of yet. And love? That is a question that we decided to stay on longer with each other to answer(yeay!). So keep checking my blog for updates on whether love happens or no. But this exercise certainly opened a door to a deeper and more meaningful relationship(or a friendship) for us. If you decide to try these 36 questions to love, please do let me know how they turn out, for now I have a romantic movie date with my guinea pig!&lt;br /&gt;
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Do also check out my other posts and tell me what you think :&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.spoopema.blogspot.in/2012/03/friend-no-more.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;A Friend No More!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.spoopema.blogspot.in/2014/09/the-big-elephant-in-my-room-my-parents.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;The Big Elephant In My Room - My Parents&#39; Seperation&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/2418009555666548533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2016/03/36-questions-to-love-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/2418009555666548533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/2418009555666548533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2016/03/36-questions-to-love-love.html' title='36 Questions to love... Love?'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEiAgSjFFmE_Idzw6EARcQJ0PLC2rYWbn_0CAdZ-xwpWMbwuE2URg3MBqQ65B5GiQPPP7JNx3aVcdn8EcVqKrd-EXyg5WQrMCvS1zr1y2p7it01y2W09owFNQplRJHkgy3QV5qj0t_nCdTg/s72-c/hearts.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-1849009082718177490</id><published>2016-02-29T07:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2016-03-22T06:56:32.088-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="betrayal"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="broken heart"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="broken promises"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fear"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="heal"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="healing"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="heart"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hope"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love again"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="lovers"/><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="promise"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="relations"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="relationships"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="rumi"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="scars. answers"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="soul"/><title type='text'>Our Lovers Left Us</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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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I know it hurts a lot. I know you loved her and she said she would love you forever and till eternity. But its all up in flames today and the only thing that is burning are your insides. You want to leave your bare body and run away into a place of numbness and try to make all that pain go away. But every day as you watch the sun set into its warm abode leaving you alone with the cold wind, you know it will take you a long time to heal or perhaps never...&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;But listen to me, look at me! Many men of heart and soul have come into my life promising to hold me while I cried, yet the moment they saw my laughter fade, they faded away too. Just yesterday, the man who said I made him happy, left me forever here looking for answers to what went wrong? Did I not love him enough? Did I not hold him tight enough? Yet I stand strong, with a broken heart, hoping... No! &lt;i&gt;Knowing &lt;/i&gt;for certain that it will heal and join into a whole again. I know this because my strong heart still carries the beautiful scars from my past.&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Do you want to know a secret oh my broken hearted mess? The only way a heart broken by love can heal, is by teaching it to love beyond its cracks and frays. Have you seen a child learning to ride the bike? She falls again and again and again, until one day she finally learns to ride the bike and journey to all the places her heart had ever wanted. She never stops getting on the bike and trying again. You and I shall also fall again and again and again, until our wings finally learn to fly and we fall into the arms of love all over again. This time for real! &lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Not that our old lovers weren&#39;t real. They were! We laughed with them, we cried with them, we had fun with them and most of all we grew because of them. We wrote beautiful stories with them didn&#39;t we? So no regrets! &lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Don&#39;t let the ugliness and vile bitterness of a broken promise take over your soul. I know you feel angry, you feel disappointment, depression and an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. I&#39;ve heard a million defeated lovers tell me love is not worth it, love is only pain and love only murders! Listen to me, it isn&#39;t love that hurts, but we ourselves. Every day, every memory, every stab we relive again and again until love seems like the biggest evil that has ever existed. NO! Don&#39;t let it poison you. Our lovers lefts us, they were meant to. Don&#39;t deny yourself the beauty of healing and growing into a more mature lover, just because our lovers gave up on us. Let us not give up on ourselves! Let us still be open and look for that love that our souls and our bodies deserve! Let us continue to hold on my forlorn friend... Let us continue to hold love.&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I may have filled your heart with hope, that is what I intended to do. But I should also warn you that this hope will also slowly fade as your memories return. It is inevitable! Our minds are addicted to the roller coaster ride of emotions, but remember it is just a ride. You will get off it soon, so keep returning to love until one day you build your home with our love.&lt;br /&gt;
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Don&#39;t forget to also read and share your views on&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.spoopema.blogspot.in/2015/06/big-cute-puppy-eyes.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Big Cute Puppy Eyes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.spoopema.blogspot.in/2013/06/is-daythat-i-feel-i-have-to-write-down.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Destination Dharamsaala!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/1849009082718177490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2016/03/our-lovers-left-us.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/1849009082718177490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/1849009082718177490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2016/03/our-lovers-left-us.html' title='Our Lovers Left Us'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEij5Zk29sirOWBKXkHaP81miOc-ABuO6BFBpIOZtReir3QfHm7IzlX7rZ-Kbg-6rBt7y5PES9AuN5wXXz4nDWEfKlExbKC72FjtrnwQUaRsa3jluDSIH9P37KEYgzGz9aIqIY_9vMKy0Bk/s72-c/open+heart.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-5394319917678804568</id><published>2016-01-09T01:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2016-01-09T01:33:17.781-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Backpack"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="break"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="detachment"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ladakh"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="lucknow"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="nepal"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="now"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="present"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="self"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="transformation"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="travel"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="travel diaries"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="writing"/><title type='text'>Back from the Hiatus</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8wtK1FVJOn1UM4AFeIZNMQxBVWUGrUe2Ofy5B-8ZY9S9Q1KXxDHuMF2ybC-MiPkeX0inFZCpoelka2HAioWvIy5Hs9wzSJ2Tin_n41bs6YtTk5Ts5WDtdh-FaXq1A6t5rdpZv8JdKUik/s1600/IMG_20150726_144702.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8wtK1FVJOn1UM4AFeIZNMQxBVWUGrUe2Ofy5B-8ZY9S9Q1KXxDHuMF2ybC-MiPkeX0inFZCpoelka2HAioWvIy5Hs9wzSJ2Tin_n41bs6YtTk5Ts5WDtdh-FaXq1A6t5rdpZv8JdKUik/s320/IMG_20150726_144702.jpg&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Attended the Dak Thok Tsechu Festival in Ladakh&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; A little more than a week into the new year and I figured it would be the best time to come back from my almost six month hiatus from writing. The obsession with &#39;new year new beginnings&#39; managed to catch me too I suppose. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Writing has always been a passion of mine and who stays away from a passion for this long you ask? Well procrastination and laziness could be it, but fortunately this time I have a better excuse! &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; My last trip to Bhutan and Kachch with my ex-boyfriend I noticed how much time we both spent on clicking pictures! The right angle, the right lighting, the right pose and the right everything for that one perfect picture. So much time spent manipulating things around me instead of looking at the beauty that the Paro Taktsang or the great white sand desert was! The meditative moments disrupted by aims to capture these meditative moments!&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;Incroyable&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; There were times in history when people could memorise and recite epics, that lasted over weeks of recitation, all from memory, and here I am not able to remember the lyrics to one Adele song right. I remember reading an article (if its written down by someone it &lt;i&gt;has&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;to be true) that when man started writing down things, her memory capacity began to diminish. Which meant the more she encapsulated her memories and experiences in words, the more it escaped from her mind! This got me thinking...&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFRWjNT1CFjvyb9igg7-ynQZCIugf7MHbwJWUfIodrTFqpSJgF4NHH_mNF_phgN-w4X2BZLQ2gUhY0uBk6iHKCWuSPN170qdyekNH1dXoA9_AO65KTJ9YPVU6ym6CzbN9y_drqA9Q7J7c/s1600/IMG_20150716_193213.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFRWjNT1CFjvyb9igg7-ynQZCIugf7MHbwJWUfIodrTFqpSJgF4NHH_mNF_phgN-w4X2BZLQ2gUhY0uBk6iHKCWuSPN170qdyekNH1dXoA9_AO65KTJ9YPVU6ym6CzbN9y_drqA9Q7J7c/s320/IMG_20150716_193213.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Not a Foodie, but trying out the famous Lucknow Biryani&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX8vkcLcv5-rxqfHWgKCt942ur7Gt7m2wzAG71FjZGPfDsyjkeRVVV_MqMTkcOpFmhl58_en2kNCujyi7KSWuX393oy1n4GqxRKqyLF2K4nGqX8L-Nmr10ilAZEeJ6RP1xvSORWVNXHWQ/s1600/IMG_20150708_134644.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; What ever I did in the last six months, I told myself I wouldn&#39;t write about it extensively(other than a few simple notes and pictures). So what all &lt;i&gt;did&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;I do in the last six months? I broke up with a great guy, quit my &#39;job&#39;, stayed on my couch watching TV for a month until one day I stood up, packed my bags and began moving. I volunteered in Nepal, had amazing Biryani in Lucknow, fell in love with a commitment-phobic guy in Ladakh, saw for the first time how alcohol turns me into a dancer, almost saw Pakistan from Turtuk(well it was almost 13 kms away), ran away from family in Sikkim, tinder dated pretty decent guys in Hyderabad, fell in love a few more times, read so many amazing books, made meditation a part of my life, camped next to a dam in a random monastic village... Well I lived my life!&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX8vkcLcv5-rxqfHWgKCt942ur7Gt7m2wzAG71FjZGPfDsyjkeRVVV_MqMTkcOpFmhl58_en2kNCujyi7KSWuX393oy1n4GqxRKqyLF2K4nGqX8L-Nmr10ilAZEeJ6RP1xvSORWVNXHWQ/s1600/IMG_20150708_134644.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX8vkcLcv5-rxqfHWgKCt942ur7Gt7m2wzAG71FjZGPfDsyjkeRVVV_MqMTkcOpFmhl58_en2kNCujyi7KSWuX393oy1n4GqxRKqyLF2K4nGqX8L-Nmr10ilAZEeJ6RP1xvSORWVNXHWQ/s320/IMG_20150708_134644.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;The family I stayed with in A village in Nepal&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The entire time, though I was tempted to write down a few inspired lines, I resisted. I wanted to live each moment for what it was ; the Present! I didn&#39;t want to think of it as a memory I would look back on or a tale I would narrate on a date. I just wanted to be... And well what do you know, I fell in love. I fell in love with the moment, I fell in love with love, I fell in love with the world and most of all I fell in love with myself (I also fell in love with the ladakhi guy, but he just couldn&#39;t commit). Without distractions of having to make that moment perfect, my mind and soul began to really experience the emotions and movements for what they were. I could feel them transforming me, I could feel them setting me free. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I realise that the word &quot;free&quot; is such a big word to use, but I&#39;m using it. I began defining the word freedom and love in a way I hadn&#39;t before, because the burden of someday looking back was lifted and I could truly live. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Ofcourse it meant I don&#39;t have too many pictures to boast with or candid blog posts to share, but you know what I&#39;ll live.&lt;br /&gt;
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Now that you have time, do also read :&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2014/09/the-big-elephant-in-my-room-my-parents.html?showComment=1431169966150#c6358315001771425775&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;The big elephant in the room - My Parent&#39;s Seperation&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2014/06/my-mom-is-beautiful.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;My Mom Is Beautiful...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/5394319917678804568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2016/01/back-from-hiatus.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/5394319917678804568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/5394319917678804568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2016/01/back-from-hiatus.html' title='Back from the Hiatus'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEj8wtK1FVJOn1UM4AFeIZNMQxBVWUGrUe2Ofy5B-8ZY9S9Q1KXxDHuMF2ybC-MiPkeX0inFZCpoelka2HAioWvIy5Hs9wzSJ2Tin_n41bs6YtTk5Ts5WDtdh-FaXq1A6t5rdpZv8JdKUik/s72-c/IMG_20150726_144702.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-3748032379923868116</id><published>2015-06-26T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2015-06-27T10:45:59.914-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="earthquake"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="humanity"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kathamandu"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="natural disaster"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="nepal"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="nepal earhquake"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="suffering"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="superwoman"/><title type='text'>When the earth shook and tore our souls apart (In Nepal, two months after the earthquakes)</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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&amp;nbsp; I landed in Nepal today, exactly two months after the earth shattering earthquakes destroyed so much here. Apparently, there have been two minor earthquakes since I&#39;ve landed, and they&#39;ve become such a normal part of life here, that even I didn&#39;t notice them. But, tomorrow seems to be on alert for a big quake, and I&#39;m not sure what I&#39;m supposed to do when the earth below me shakes!&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; As to why I&#39;m here at just &lt;i&gt;this&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;time in Nepal&#39;s history, well I&#39;m trying to be superwoman. You know when there is someone in distress or in trouble, there is this highly empathetic, big-hearted, kind souled person, who &lt;i&gt;sacrifices&lt;/i&gt; to help those in need? Well technically I&#39;m supposed to be playing that role.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Let me tell you the truth. One small little me, with two small little hands that have NEVER seen hard labour, can&#39;t do anything! &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; We all walk around thinking we have &lt;i&gt;control&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;over things! As I heard my friend&#39;s first hand experience of how the entire building shook off its hinges, as she watched her little brother and sisters screaming for her, only thinking &quot;we are going to die today!&quot; as she lied to the little ones &quot;don&#39;t panic, it&#39;ll be fine!&quot;, that feeling of &lt;i&gt;control&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;slipped like sand between my fingers as tears rolled down my face. Few hours later she heard her home back in the village was a pile of rubble, just a few minutes before all communications died. She said when she realised what life around her had turned into, she told herself &quot;this is life&quot;. I&#39;m not sure if there was sadness in her voice or a sense of acceptance.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I ask myself now, what can I really do here? How can I help? I know what the action plan for the next few weeks will be for me, but I know I can not help them, I can not help anyone here or anywhere. This &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;life! Disaster, dread and death are all a part of it, and I have a feeling my journey now on will be that of accepting this simple truth. I can&#39;t &lt;i&gt;help&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;it, because it&#39;s not &lt;i&gt;meant&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;to be helped.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Humanity will continue to suffer in natural disasters, cancer, mental illness and everything that is life, and all that we have is each other, all that we have is humanity. That is why I&#39;m here, not to help, not to build, not to be superwoman, but to be a part of humanity.&lt;br /&gt;
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NOTE : This post is an expression of what I felt and thought about during my visit to Nepal, and hope no body is offended by my piece of writing! The people here have faced a lot in the past couple of months and this is in no way a comment on that.&lt;br /&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/3748032379923868116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2015/06/when-earth-shook-and-tore-our-souls.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/3748032379923868116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/3748032379923868116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2015/06/when-earth-shook-and-tore-our-souls.html' title='When the earth shook and tore our souls apart (In Nepal, two months after the earthquakes)'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEilekQC95DcKH0IzwQkvDnG676jtm8c_fgC1RuAFi0B1MZ9WGbsFVcrPLV1vdKZNHNxV5jse1kbui9tZAUwV948kXqRAL3PZFE34dAuYZzRluMFEp0N8K7GFx4owxAn6yIIwPSOlT0PG9I/s72-c/IMG_20150627_180510.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-723979482135145583</id><published>2015-06-02T00:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2015-06-02T23:58:16.840-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="animal shelter"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Animals"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Kindness"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="puppy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="rescue"/><title type='text'>Big Cute Puppy Eyes</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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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Remember that dog that just got hit, by a car that didn&#39;t even stop to see if its alive? Remember that little puppy with a broken bleeding leg crying in pain? Remember that cow withering in pain near the garbage bin? Remember that litter of kittens whose mother just got run over by a truck?&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Today I found a puppy with the cutest eyes on the road. But, it was only after falling for his buggy eyes did I notice the disease affected skin and his badly fractured leg. I knew I had to help him!&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Though he was wounded, he was happy to meet someone new!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I came running back to get a cloth that I could cover him with to pick him up, and told my mom about the little soul waiting for help. She said &quot;don&#39;t worry! Dogs get affected on the road all the time. He&#39;ll get well without your help&quot; .&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;You guys know me well, I gave her a mean dirty stare and went ahead calling the People For Animals, Mysore to come take the puppy for treatment. But as I walked towards the puppy, I realised what my mom said wasn&#39;t as shocking as I had made it seem!&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Thousands of people had passed by the puppy in obvious pain, with the exact same thought that was running through my mom&#39;s mind. Street dogs heal on their own, we don&#39;t need to help them. Well, I&#39;m sorry to say but you couldn&#39;t be more wrong!&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;All animals, especially the ones on the streets need our help when they are injured. I&#39;m going to say this at the risk of sounding cheesy, but they don&#39;t have a voice! They just sit there in pain waiting for help, which unfortunately doesn&#39;t ever come most of the times.&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; The good news is, most cities have animal shelters with ambulance services and treatment for street animals. I have personally visited the ones in &lt;a href=&quot;http://pfamysore.org/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Mysore&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.animalaidunlimited.com/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Udaipur&lt;/a&gt;, Gangtok and &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.bluecrosshyd.in/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Hyderabad&lt;/a&gt;. They are all amazing centres with amazing people to take care of these animals.&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Check it out RIGHT NOW, and save their phone numbers, it takes not more than five minutes. That number could help save a dog or cat in pain, the next time you notice one in a corner with a broken limb or a bleeding tail. DON&#39;T pass them by thinking they&#39;ll be okay, they won&#39;t! Unless you help them.&lt;br /&gt;
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Don&#39;t forget also read :&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2015/05/burying-our-daughters.html?m=1&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Burying Our Daughters&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2013/06/is-daythat-i-feel-i-have-to-write-down.html?m=1&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Destination Dharamshaala!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/723979482135145583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2015/06/big-cute-puppy-eyes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/723979482135145583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/723979482135145583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2015/06/big-cute-puppy-eyes.html' title='Big Cute Puppy Eyes'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEgjQo3cF4ZJigNBQXh2P_fauGlTIW6nbKu60WaD8I86okQanNgWRJZP2vT4TwgU4FJ0eHS3yiqzsS5-E062PlCRc6VyObdQpjyDp31nqAtrsxHdAfonab6G_vR0uDAx8vU_IJ1UFoABdSY/s72-c/IMG_20150601_121037.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-3307252948141809498</id><published>2015-05-14T05:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2015-05-14T06:34:10.360-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fear"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="soul matters"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Women"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="women equality"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="women rights"/><title type='text'>Burying our daughters</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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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKv6p3G6yEGsuz3t3RvLkJNa09jVyx-YrMVf3xvKuWiUIIdE1nQp55F2U65nbOdvobSdQ9mctdWC_MYLEFgBSEqX_Zgau30ATfvLJaN0EOo2o3Hp3fC5MdbGYbuPv6AJraBzqHgu2Uki8/s1600/behind-bars.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;213&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKv6p3G6yEGsuz3t3RvLkJNa09jVyx-YrMVf3xvKuWiUIIdE1nQp55F2U65nbOdvobSdQ9mctdWC_MYLEFgBSEqX_Zgau30ATfvLJaN0EOo2o3Hp3fC5MdbGYbuPv6AJraBzqHgu2Uki8/s320/behind-bars.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; We always tell our girls &quot;it&#39;s unsafe outside, don&#39;t go&quot;, instead imagine a world where we told them &quot;it&#39;s unsafe outside, go make it better!&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The fact that I am a &lt;i&gt;girl&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;and hence vulnerable and unsafe, doesn&#39;t ever escape my mind(I&#39;m sure a lot of women will share the same feeling), because the world around me keeps reminding me that I shall be eaten alive the very next moment. Will we ever teach ourselves to be fearless, and fight for ourselves? &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I&#39;ve had to see my mother go through the struggle of letting me go, and I always thought &lt;i&gt;what&#39;s&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;her&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;problem&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;? &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;I&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;need&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;to&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;go&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;out&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;someday&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;! &lt;/i&gt;But having worked with beautiful children the past two years, I can see where the protective instincts come from. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; When she finally let go two years ago, I forgot to tell her how proud I was of her! But, little did I know the world hadn&#39;t stopped trying to hide me, to bury me! People all around me, even today, &#39;advise me&#39; not to travel alone, not to go out after 9 or not to hang out with young boys too much! &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; But is burying our women in safety, or rather disguised safety, really the answer? What is the difference between restricting a woman from living her life fully and ending the life of a female foetus? We don&#39;t want to be responsible for either one&#39;s repercussions.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Nineteen years of my life my protective mom taught me that I couldn&#39;t fight for myself because the world outside was mean and evil, I wouldn&#39;t be safe. But despite the love, when I flew out of my nest the world took up the task of telling me to hide behind safety.
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Ironically, as I hear these voices who only see the vulnerability of my gender, the past month has been so inspiring and uplifting because of all the strong &lt;i&gt;kick-&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;arse&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;women I&#39;ve met! I&#39;ve heard the CEO of India&#39;s biggest fellowship pour her heart out, I&#39;ve heard the founder of an amazing school tell me gender biases are just an excuse, I&#39;ve met a founder of a weavers society who worked with them for fourteen years to empower and build an enterprise from nothing to a 5 crore turn over, and oh so many women with the power in their voices that are still flashing before my eyes. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Maybe I should just listen to these women, and tune out the rest, atleast that&#39;s what my mom says.&lt;/div&gt;
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Sine you&#39;ve read till the end, do read these too :&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2014/09/the-big-elephant-in-my-room-my-parents.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;The Big Elephant in My Room - My parents&#39; seperation&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2012/09/dream-to-be-free.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Dream To Be Free&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/3307252948141809498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2015/05/burying-our-daughters.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/3307252948141809498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/3307252948141809498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2015/05/burying-our-daughters.html' title='Burying our daughters'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEgKv6p3G6yEGsuz3t3RvLkJNa09jVyx-YrMVf3xvKuWiUIIdE1nQp55F2U65nbOdvobSdQ9mctdWC_MYLEFgBSEqX_Zgau30ATfvLJaN0EOo2o3Hp3fC5MdbGYbuPv6AJraBzqHgu2Uki8/s72-c/behind-bars.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-3946536281462417797</id><published>2015-02-21T09:06:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2015-02-21T09:13:11.969-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="indian bride"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="indian villages"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poem"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poetry"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="School"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Villages"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Women"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="women equality"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="women rights"/><title type='text'>The Tea Boiling Over</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;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;The year 2013 was a very tough one, especially the month of December. I lived in a typical Indian rural village, caught between the traditions of the old times and the advancements of modern societies. I had to live with a family from the village, as any other family member, experiencing their lives without the luxuries that I came from.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Amidst all of this, was the little daughter and her friend living every day as it came. Waiting for the tea they made everyday for all household members, and watching them in their childish freedom, wrote a poem.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Despite the shift in the society towards womens&#39; rights and equality, the reality in our daily lives remains unchanged. Perhaps this pain is what brought on this expression.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidLIA9VGtRXl_LwllCApYtcun3zh2yuqQl5FKjUtIKDD7MqQRKk0SjANuPOEqsKnGrcA-2G4QW9kPziiahxd5yycQ3J7yw8JHR4esiaSpBQMMYvnwXdZCE29FY98jgROQLInd0IArhYAE/s1600/13082013159.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidLIA9VGtRXl_LwllCApYtcun3zh2yuqQl5FKjUtIKDD7MqQRKk0SjANuPOEqsKnGrcA-2G4QW9kPziiahxd5yycQ3J7yw8JHR4esiaSpBQMMYvnwXdZCE29FY98jgROQLInd0IArhYAE/s1600/13082013159.JPG&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;The girls making serving tea in the school.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;&quot;&gt;Every inch of the old dusty mud house&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;Touched by their loud innocent giggles&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;The air slowly invaded&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;By the aroma of the tea they make.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;Their mother bathing half naked&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;By the open tap overlooking the hills,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;Warns them of the tea boiling over,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;As they continue amusing each other like kids.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;How are they to know&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;Every minute spent here with mother&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;Is just another step&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;Towards their new destined homes?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;Homes decided while they sat dreaming&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;Of their futures untold to them yet.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;Their very mother by their side&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;Shall send them off with packed suitcases&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;Before their childhood giggles mature into a woman’s laughter.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;Their innocence blind&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;To how their families will soon,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;Very soon,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;Sell them off in marriage&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;Only to fill their old dusty mud house&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;With sobs of another’s little daughter.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;Don&#39;t forget to also read :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2014/09/the-big-elephant-in-my-room-my-parents.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;The Big Elephant In The Room - My Parents&#39; Seperation&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2013/07/the-superwoman-inside-all-of-us.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;The Super(wo)man Inside All Of Us&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/3946536281462417797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2015/02/the-tea-boiling-over.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/3946536281462417797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/3946536281462417797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2015/02/the-tea-boiling-over.html' title='The Tea Boiling Over'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEidLIA9VGtRXl_LwllCApYtcun3zh2yuqQl5FKjUtIKDD7MqQRKk0SjANuPOEqsKnGrcA-2G4QW9kPziiahxd5yycQ3J7yw8JHR4esiaSpBQMMYvnwXdZCE29FY98jgROQLInd0IArhYAE/s72-c/13082013159.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-5406099270594217426</id><published>2014-11-21T11:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2014-11-21T11:53:42.767-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="acceptance"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="change"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Conditioning"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="courage"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="De-condition"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ego"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="english"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fellowship"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Ideologies"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="language"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Media"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Question"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="schools"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Society"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Gandhi Fellowship"/><title type='text'>The English Snob That I Was</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;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
Note : This was a story I shared with my fellowship team, when asked how the fellowship that I am a part of has changed me. There have been several ways of how this brilliant experience has brought out the best and the worst in me. I will hopefully share more on this fellowship and the learnings I&#39;ve drawn from it on the blog, for now read on...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&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/AVvXsEj8_62uZQe1l5wSVmAR6UkjMq16OFwGWJw29IHGYOKaLEbNO2c5aFVdLardpWaQOIjDoaxzfzMNUZuSZnAdsgn66agNnSeRmh8hQPh1ESlCzZ9bYly58lwu_-2XXKyZJKPd2UDfg14BB80/s1600/10675619_10152861988828234_5867236620310563134_n.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8_62uZQe1l5wSVmAR6UkjMq16OFwGWJw29IHGYOKaLEbNO2c5aFVdLardpWaQOIjDoaxzfzMNUZuSZnAdsgn66agNnSeRmh8hQPh1ESlCzZ9bYly58lwu_-2XXKyZJKPd2UDfg14BB80/s1600/10675619_10152861988828234_5867236620310563134_n.jpg&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&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;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;My name is Spoorthi. My father is
from Karnataka and my mother is from Sikkim, and I… Well I am from everywhere!
I can speak Kannada, Nepali, French because I put my heart and soul into
learning it and&amp;nbsp;&lt;i style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;of course&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I know English. Thinking back on my past, I realize that all my friends have been English speakers, all my thoughts have been penned down in English, and most of what I know has been read in English.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; One
year into the fellowship and all the friends I had made were English speakers.
I hadn’t ever realized it, but I looked down upon those who didn’t know proper
English. “I didn’t done it” someone says, and I know he can never be my friend.
“&lt;i&gt;Kyaa aap hindi mein baat karsakte ho, angrezi samajh nahin aa raha hain&lt;/i&gt;”
another says and I know no conversations there. “&lt;i&gt;Aap kaise ho&lt;/i&gt;?” someone
asks, I say “&lt;i&gt;acha&lt;/i&gt;” in my broken hindi and walk away. This was who I was
and I was happy with it. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; My
whole life, my parents, my schools, the society I belonged to and the media
that fed me, have all told me ‘English’! We had a rule in my school, if anyone
speaks in any language other than English, then we had to pay a fine. Did I
realize how much of my character was being shaped by this? Our whole lives we
are conditioned to be a certain way, fed ideas that are said to be right,
influenced towards certain ideologies. Everyday of our lives we lose a part of
ourselves and become what we are &lt;i&gt;forced&lt;/i&gt; to become, completely blind to
it. In the fellowship I questioned it, and recovered a part of myself!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I
remember the day that my journey with this fellowship started. I was given a
room next to two boys during our induction process, who happened to be deep and
loud in discussion in HINDI! I couldn’t believe it! I couldn’t understand most
of it, but I understood I was disappointed. I remember phoning my mother back
home and telling her very convincingly that I didn’t think this fellowship was
for me. Today I work and live with one of those guys in my fellowship home and
the other one of those guys is my best friend.&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; It
might have taken me a year to realize it, but a lot of courage to break my
notions and to break my conditioning. The dislike, the disappointment, the
hatred even, it was all not mine. It was given to me, and I accepted it without
questioning it. When I look around today I see the magnitude of souls we are
slowly erasing by giving them all the anger, hatred, violence, judgements and
what not.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; During
my field support visits to school, I meet on an average 150 primary kids that I
teach, I play with and best of all, I talk to. I can feel their honesty, their
purity and their free minds in my heart. I envy them but at the same time I
fear for them. It is only a while until these free souls are also bound by our
society’s chains. Perhaps I can save them, perhaps I can save our society from
more Spoorthis who dislike non-English speakers.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; My
dream is to see our children growing in an environment where they can be
everything they wish to be and everything that they are, without being conditioned
to be a certain way, fed ideas that are said to be right, influenced towards
certain ideologies. A school where self-exploration, self-governance,
self-expression, equality and freedom are the core values. I want to question
things, I want to question our conditioning, I want to question everything! &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
Don&#39;t forget to also check out :&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2014/03/how-to-love.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;How To Love...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2013/11/just-five-clothes.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Just Five Clothes!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
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&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/5406099270594217426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2014/11/the-english-snob-that-i-was.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/5406099270594217426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/5406099270594217426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2014/11/the-english-snob-that-i-was.html' title='The English Snob That I Was'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEj8_62uZQe1l5wSVmAR6UkjMq16OFwGWJw29IHGYOKaLEbNO2c5aFVdLardpWaQOIjDoaxzfzMNUZuSZnAdsgn66agNnSeRmh8hQPh1ESlCzZ9bYly58lwu_-2XXKyZJKPd2UDfg14BB80/s72-c/10675619_10152861988828234_5867236620310563134_n.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-2374625585163399479</id><published>2014-09-18T10:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2014-09-18T10:42:11.811-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="acceptance"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="answers"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="change"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="divorce"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="equality"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="freedom"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="honesty"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Judgemental"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="liberty"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="marriage"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="single-parenthood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="taboo"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="weddings"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Women"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="women equality"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="women rights. separation"/><title type='text'>The Big Elephant in My Room - My parents&#39; seperation</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s been a long time since I&#39;ve written(I certainly regret my lethargy) and now that I&#39;ve decided to finally get back on track, what better way to start than to talk about the one thing in my life that I rarely talk about with people.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;A few of you might know that my parents are separated and it&#39;s been just my mother, my dog(now no more alive) and I the whole time. I sometimes tell people the &lt;i&gt;truth&lt;/i&gt; when asked, according to whether they can &lt;i&gt;handle &lt;/i&gt;it or not, rest of the times I just say he works overseas. A lot of you might be appalled as to why I lie, but it is not for me but for the well-being of the listener. Contrary to the beliefs held by many &lt;i&gt;educated &lt;/i&gt;citizens of our great nation, divorce and single-parenthood are still a taboo and a big No-No.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Hence I am going to do the best thing possible with this taboo today - talk about it! I will try my best to answer all kinds of questions that enter into your head when you think of DIVORCE and especially the CHILD of the &lt;i&gt;pitiful&lt;/i&gt; marriage.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; My parents separated nearly a decade ago. I am in my early twenties now, which means I was already quite old enough to understand pretty much everything that was happening in my life. Did it affect me and damage me for the rest of my life? Well... I&#39;m sure it affected me, but don&#39;t we all live through struggles in life that affect us, bad breakups, failing at exams, broken bones from an accident or a death of a loved one. They are all a part and parcel of life, and the best thing we can do is survive them. I survived it and I&#39;m doing fine today, so I guess damaged for the rest of my life is not true eh?&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; To be honest, the way I saw my parents&#39; marriage, it wasn&#39;t happy for them after a while. They began with love, but love fades sometimes like everything in life (Buddha said nothing in this universe is permanent). They should have parted before the ugly side of fading love began to show. For all those open mouths and rolling eyes, I know this might sound crrrrrrrrrrazy, but that &lt;i&gt;is &lt;/i&gt;what I believe. Nothing really is permanent, and the sooner we accept this truth, the closer we are to finding the one thing we all truly crave for, Peace.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; One of the biggest reasons marriages are stopped from seeing its end are the KIDS! What will happen to them? We should stay for their happiness? We should do this for them! Well... I am a kid of such a marriage, and for all those going through this phase in life, honestly this is the worst thing for the kids in the marriage. A forced marriage entails a lot of cold shoulders, hatred, fights, and most of the times domestic violence at home. We don&#39;t need this. The foremost thing for a child is to be brought up in a healthy , non-violent environment and if that means sitting down with your partner to decide the terms of separation then do it! If it means going to couples counselling than try that too! But don&#39;t just stay idle, waiting for things to change.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; A common question that curious little minds have asked me is my opinion on marriage and whether I see a husband for myself, despite my parents&#39; broken ties. I suppose they expect I&#39;d carry the hate from the previous generation, but it&#39;s not for me to carry is it? I have been given the power to make the choices of my life and it is upto me to make it the way I want it to be. On that note, will I marry? No :) But it&#39;s not because I don&#39;t believe in love, but it is because I don&#39;t think I need a big wedding ceremony or an announcement to the world or any other drama of that sort for me to share my life with someone. I strongly believe in the power of love and am infact in love with someone very special in my life, who also doesn&#39;t think he needs a certificate to prove his love for me.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; I realise I&#39;ve said a lot of things that might result in a lot of hate in the comments section, but you know what it&#39;s fine. I&#39;ve lived through every word I&#39;ve written here and more, I&#39;ve lived it and I wouldn&#39;t change a single thing from my life if I had the chance. It made me who I am today, it made me value love, it made me value myself, what else can I ask for.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; My parent&#39;s are separated, but by their choice. The only hope for humanity is to work for a society where freedom and love are the most important epithets and not force and hate. I am proud of my mother for taking this decision and setting herself free and wish a lot of women &lt;i&gt;and &lt;/i&gt;men get the courage to take that step to set themselves free and find love for themselves.&lt;br /&gt;
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P.S: Thanks a lot for listening to what I had to say :) Listening to each other helps a lot trust me. Sharing&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.dailymail.co.uk/home/you/article-2590860/I-wish-parents-separated.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;another article&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;that is very close to what I am talking about.&lt;/div&gt;
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Also, don&#39;t forget to also read :&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2014/03/how-to-love.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;How to love...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2013/08/equal-and-free.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Equal and Free&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/2374625585163399479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2014/09/the-big-elephant-in-my-room-my-parents.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/2374625585163399479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/2374625585163399479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2014/09/the-big-elephant-in-my-room-my-parents.html' title='The Big Elephant in My Room - My parents&#39; seperation'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEieQSi0VO3BK-J8wFw8_68CW0kkCeEGSZBAvTE-9_70OzkMDVzbRngYF11WjpxSblMfyyZBiZNgDjccmWTaOH7NnhrRIBvlHfL-TUT2-2hpjOE0yXdWBv4ZKXPJ1qhHTLKNuIjln4yt1Vg/s72-c/10151956_697343366974729_4087010302272066748_n.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-4638880033401200248</id><published>2014-06-18T13:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2014-06-19T09:46:44.390-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="acceptance"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="beauty"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="beauty standards. love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="change"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fat"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="lesson"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mother"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="offend"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="perspective"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="True Beauty"/><title type='text'>My Mom Is Beautiful.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;This is a blog post after a long time travelling around the country, a bit of meditation and a lot of reading. All that done in hopes of opening new doors in my head and learning new life lessons. When I finally returned home after a year away(Only for a 10-day holiday break though) I never thought I would learn a beautiful lesson right in the middle of all the comforts home had to offer.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;My mom was dressing up to go her work, and meeting her after a significant amount of time, we were having our usual conversations of this and that. As she tried on her new purple kurta I happened to notice that she had grown a little fat around her hips and I told her &quot;Ma, your body has become fat. That kurta looks weird on you.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8QzV9tRt_2Zew1DSWIV5sJpYJN8cfu9iIPtBHuIRItxCufYN0yKjIZhZqpuGCgwReYVTXHd2pnCppjXtpPguGLIuG_1R2Y97YpJ584Qylqi7ogeUoJNH3TsoLtEjxWNc-icyYk_d5ZtY/s1600/beauty.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8QzV9tRt_2Zew1DSWIV5sJpYJN8cfu9iIPtBHuIRItxCufYN0yKjIZhZqpuGCgwReYVTXHd2pnCppjXtpPguGLIuG_1R2Y97YpJ584Qylqi7ogeUoJNH3TsoLtEjxWNc-icyYk_d5ZtY/s1600/beauty.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;She accepted my comment coolly and justified how she had been eating a lot the past month. Her protest-less acceptance of my comment hit me so hard! I had obviously not thought of what my words actually signified, and soon a lesson learnt.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Women will always be too fat, too short, too dark, have too many pimples and so on and on and on. I&#39;ve been told of my tan, my grizzly dry hair and my farm of pimples on my face, over and over again. I have justified for them over and over again, as if being the way I am and looking the way I do offends the people who have to bear with it!&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; My mother should have been horrified and told me not to talk of someone&#39;s body that way. I criticised her body, told her she was fat and basically told her she wasn&#39;t good enough. All she did was accept it. She accepted it as if I was right in saying all that I had said!&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;When in reality my mother is so much more than just her body and face. Neither a size zero figure nor a body with fat around her hips, can define who she truly is. No beauty standards we create for women in this society can truly do justice to what women really are on the inside. So let&#39;s stop criticising the extra fat, the short legs and frizzy hair. Let&#39;s accept and love ourselves and each other for exactly the way we are - Beautiful! And I needed to go home, call my mother fat and watch her smile while being called fat to learn this lesson.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I would love to hear stories of how beautiful your moms are :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Don&#39;t forget to check out :&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2012/06/happiness-or-peace.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Happiness or Peace???&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2013/11/just-five-clothes.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Just Five Clothes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/4638880033401200248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2014/06/my-mom-is-beautiful.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/4638880033401200248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/4638880033401200248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2014/06/my-mom-is-beautiful.html' title='My Mom Is Beautiful.'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEj8QzV9tRt_2Zew1DSWIV5sJpYJN8cfu9iIPtBHuIRItxCufYN0yKjIZhZqpuGCgwReYVTXHd2pnCppjXtpPguGLIuG_1R2Y97YpJ584Qylqi7ogeUoJNH3TsoLtEjxWNc-icyYk_d5ZtY/s72-c/beauty.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-2776467823158799170</id><published>2014-03-26T04:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2014-04-09T05:48:01.962-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="equality"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fight"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="free"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gender inequality"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="journey"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="little changes"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="message"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Opinion"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Optimism"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="philosophy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="psychology"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="relations"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="tattoo"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="True Beauty"/><title type='text'>HOW TO LOVE...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
WARNING : There may be an excessive use of the word &quot;Love&quot; in this post. I suggest people uncomfortable with this word, don&#39;t fret, take a deep breath and then commence reading. You never know, you might actually fall in love with love.&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Love is a word we all use isn&#39;t it. Even when we talk of hate, we are actually talking of love. My life&#39;s journey has now led me to a stage where I want to feel love and compassion for all... Yes you read it right, for ALL!&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Love has always been a word that has come out of my lips, my entire life. Saying &quot;I love you&quot; to someone has been hard as well as easy for me. But, it is perhaps only now that I understand the real depth and significance of this word.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Now how on earth am I going to love all, when there is so much to hate and detest in this world. When I thought real deep about love and compassion for ALL, I realised how herculean a task this is! If you are wondering, No I haven&#39;t managed to give unconditional love and compassion for the entire humanity, but good news I have figured out the first step.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;This first step is not giving up all your belongings to the poor of the world, it is not adopting all orphans into your home, it isn&#39;t even falling head over heels in love with someone. The first step towards Love is Not To Hate. It isn&#39;t even an action that requires effort, in fact it is the lack of all the pain and stress required to hate someone or something.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Isn&#39;t the act of hating a big burden? Having to carry that lump of evil thoughts, curses, complains and what not, always around on your shoulders. What if you just let go of it all? You wouldn&#39;t have to love or forgive or even tolerate, you just stop hating. Doesn&#39;t it sound very relieving?&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Once that hate is let go of, our hearts and minds are lighter and cleansed, it is certainly easier to fill it with good thoughts and eventually with lots of love and compassion. If you are wondering if I really did try it, Yes I did. If you are wondering if it worked, guess what? Yes it worked!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: left; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfPNVhuKkeCq1tWt7b0rDhK6fKeVjfFZptkXzNov-0lr_DNDIW2zCyPDlvt1kHARhMcaCrROIX6NRrPluSAZSbo-hH3YVPIw85z3r9cpW-QDB7iYsXZ_qm9nx-b8wLg0Gk1w7jMOvTD4Y/s1600/1974990_10203210843373419_844434672_n.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfPNVhuKkeCq1tWt7b0rDhK6fKeVjfFZptkXzNov-0lr_DNDIW2zCyPDlvt1kHARhMcaCrROIX6NRrPluSAZSbo-hH3YVPIw85z3r9cpW-QDB7iYsXZ_qm9nx-b8wLg0Gk1w7jMOvTD4Y/s1600/1974990_10203210843373419_844434672_n.jpg&quot; height=&quot;213&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;The symbol of infinite Love and Wisdom, tattooed on my shoulder.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I started with trying not to hate the nagging my mom does, trying not to hate the unbelievably gender biased movies that pass of as good films in the cinemas, trying not to hate the horribly rude auto drivers that try to loot you, trying not to hate some people that were really easy to hate, so on and so forth.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; As I reached this eureka moment in my journey of love and compassion, I also decided to mark my life with this new beginning. I got the infinity symbol of love and wisdom inked on my shoulder, to keep reminding me and to keep spreading the message of this simple word called Love.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Don&#39;t Forget to also check out my other posts :&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: purple;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2013/11/just-five-clothes.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Just Five Clothes...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2013/05/he-said-he-had-three-girlfriends.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: purple;&quot;&gt;He said he had three Girlfriends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/2776467823158799170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2014/03/how-to-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/2776467823158799170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/2776467823158799170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2014/03/how-to-love.html' title='HOW TO LOVE...'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEisNzdWDNv6ZgHX8MCdEbk4UjOtZMQEWi9jeBYKyqvq4GXevAiBP6Sxj8rx1YwxNOfLTOBROc1s0uZMGB0T7d_8AMspXPQCRxhG1Phs5vyHNzZTVZrZ0rCUQr-0FWq_4zG36GL4vGJ5oNA/s72-c/319127.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-5013467183514063080</id><published>2014-02-09T23:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2014-04-09T05:52:27.855-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="acceptance"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="answers"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Behaivour"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="chaos"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fear"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="peace"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="relations"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="state"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="strain"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="writing"/><title type='text'>In Chaotic Peace</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I have always enjoyed writing down my thoughts and ideas, despite the lack of readers for my pieces of work. Yet, I realised the past few months have been a time when my writers&#39; block took the best of me. I argued (with myself ofcourse!) that I was busy saving the world or making my hair, that writing took the back seat.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP6Edg0ZVcBpDSEuWX-f6AKRnp3rooujCdQG8t-nhQJq_pG1Jhhh_bKCUTADEI4DeUNq7wodmx7n-M1rRVwpLPRV1R9DmdwmXzP6GlvNUylwh6_VEOCQjbDp3dqGmBs6T8CbmJakSEQEI/s1600/chaos.png&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP6Edg0ZVcBpDSEuWX-f6AKRnp3rooujCdQG8t-nhQJq_pG1Jhhh_bKCUTADEI4DeUNq7wodmx7n-M1rRVwpLPRV1R9DmdwmXzP6GlvNUylwh6_VEOCQjbDp3dqGmBs6T8CbmJakSEQEI/s1600/chaos.png&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Today, I am admitting (to myself again!) as to why my fingers haven&#39;t penned down my mind.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;My head is in chaos! In utter chaos. My thoughts and ideas are questioned by further thoughts and ideas, only to be questioned again by more thoughts and ideas. I haven&#39;t lost my soul, but I sure am on the way to losing my sanity!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I have always been afraid of not believing the &#39;Right way&#39; or the &#39;Right Answer&#39;, that I was in denial of chaos in my head. What if everything I believed in my whole life was all wrong? What if all of it was just wrong conditioning? I am at a phase where most questions do not have answers, my future plans are confusing me, relations are straining me and I basically need a break! I was just afraid of admitting this to myself.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Don&#39;t we all reach this phase in our lives where too many doors of life confuse us and our head is lost between rationality, logic, sentimentality and thirsts for peace. Being afraid of accepting this chaos in my head meant my hands were paused in motion. But why are we all afraid of this state? Why are we all so obsessed with being composed and sorted,and having all the right answers, all the time? Why don&#39;t we allow ourselves to enjoy the chaos too? It certainly helped me to write one chaotic piece of writing, perhaps the acceptance of not having answers and not knowing which way to go is alright. Maybe sometimes we need to allow ourselves to enjoy some chaotic peace.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Do check my other posts too :&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2012/08/how-to-be-happy-in-n-out-of-relationship.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;How to be happy in and out of a relationship&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2011/05/blast-from-past.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Blast from the Past&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/5013467183514063080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2014/02/in-chaotic-peace.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/5013467183514063080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/5013467183514063080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2014/02/in-chaotic-peace.html' title='In Chaotic Peace'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEjP6Edg0ZVcBpDSEuWX-f6AKRnp3rooujCdQG8t-nhQJq_pG1Jhhh_bKCUTADEI4DeUNq7wodmx7n-M1rRVwpLPRV1R9DmdwmXzP6GlvNUylwh6_VEOCQjbDp3dqGmBs6T8CbmJakSEQEI/s72-c/chaos.png" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-4953110270945034445</id><published>2013-11-24T04:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2013-11-24T08:38:16.005-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="closet"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="clothes"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="detachment"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="donate"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="free"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="inspiration"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spirituality"/><title type='text'>JUST FIVE CLOTHES...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT9VsGCNgM-VgQbVPuup52_9wVBbFjhQNG5YYt8InVEkOGvlDzkDn-lVF0pBiUKu7q1UXDsx4LFJpMzigiH14nxxr5N4GA_z3696adw0prJoNLk4FjTJ-hnc2X08js90pNIKSgA2V9pHE/s1600/dont-care-how-much-clothes-i-have-nothign-to-wear.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT9VsGCNgM-VgQbVPuup52_9wVBbFjhQNG5YYt8InVEkOGvlDzkDn-lVF0pBiUKu7q1UXDsx4LFJpMzigiH14nxxr5N4GA_z3696adw0prJoNLk4FjTJ-hnc2X08js90pNIKSgA2V9pHE/s320/dont-care-how-much-clothes-i-have-nothign-to-wear.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Sounds familiar???&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
Detachment from
materialistic things! When I realized I needed to take my spirituality journey,
or rather my life’s journey, to the next step, detachment from materialistic
things was what I was confronted with. I wish I can say I was successfully able
to leave my royal castle behind, with its golden chariots and closets full of
designer gowns; but I did not manage to do that. Instead I can say I was
successfully able to confuse myself as to what I was to give up first. (What
did I &lt;i&gt;have &lt;/i&gt;to give up, is another
question for another day.)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; A friend of mine last week, looked
at her closet overflowing with clothes and shoes, and suddenly exclaimed, “I
need to stop shopping!” . At that moment, my head raced back to the time when I
faced my own dilemma and exclaimed, “Let’s give away some clothes”. I guess I
was expected her to slap me for even suggesting to her the prospects of separating
with her beloved apparels, but I was surprised to what followed.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; My friend doesn&#39;t really bother much
about spirituality, but too much clothes in her wardrobe is certainly something
to worry about. A perfect situation to practice detachment! What better method
to understand the significance of detachment, than giving up clothes?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Since this was my first step when
faced with my dilemma, this was easy for me to choreograph. Today, I wish to
share this secret first step, that we both took to all those looking for a path towards detachment
and to those looking to clean up their closets :&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst&quot; style=&quot;mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Symbol; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;; font-size: 7pt;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;Choose
five clothes, just five clothes you are willing to give away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Symbol; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;; font-size: 7pt;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;Now that
you have chosen them, do not re-think and do not look at them again! If you do,
then your heart will come up with excuses to not give them up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Symbol; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;; font-size: 7pt;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;Now
quickly pack them up in a bag and keep them far away from the closet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Symbol; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;; font-size: 7pt;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;This is
assuming that you have already found someone you can give them away to, or organizations
that take used clothes in order to recycle them, GIVE THEM AWAY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle&quot; style=&quot;mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; I
am certain that half of the people reading this post will be screaming in
terror, reading the last step in my step-to-step guide. My friend was perhaps
anticipating the same emotion. A day after giving away the clothes she had loved for so long, with all her heart; I asked her
how she was feeling after going through that tough step towards detachment, a step
very significant in self-awareness and spirituality. “Nothing!” she said, a
successful first step!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;&quot;&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoListParagraphCxSpLast&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Go
ahead! Pick your five clothes today, just five clothes.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&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/AVvXsEgtiedMabBY4dpsF6yRSWgY7fw7gUP-mRtTXKk8TQteT1U-kEiB7FrXCt_9T1lp5x9dA1jza_efxwjHGfDeHf9UDw4TT5uxeshP4oMT5nEcbrDBq3otpxByUJ85Gshpl-Idqv9v-6t5FwY/s1600/clothes.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;260&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtiedMabBY4dpsF6yRSWgY7fw7gUP-mRtTXKk8TQteT1U-kEiB7FrXCt_9T1lp5x9dA1jza_efxwjHGfDeHf9UDw4TT5uxeshP4oMT5nEcbrDBq3otpxByUJ85Gshpl-Idqv9v-6t5FwY/s400/clothes.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/4953110270945034445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2013/11/just-five-clothes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/4953110270945034445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/4953110270945034445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2013/11/just-five-clothes.html' title='JUST FIVE CLOTHES...'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEhT9VsGCNgM-VgQbVPuup52_9wVBbFjhQNG5YYt8InVEkOGvlDzkDn-lVF0pBiUKu7q1UXDsx4LFJpMzigiH14nxxr5N4GA_z3696adw0prJoNLk4FjTJ-hnc2X08js90pNIKSgA2V9pHE/s72-c/dont-care-how-much-clothes-i-have-nothign-to-wear.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-2141308883231967417</id><published>2013-09-20T04:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2013-09-20T04:34:44.293-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="art"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="assumptions"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="big impact"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="colours"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dare to dream"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Different"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="education"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="equality"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fellowship"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="free mind"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="government schools"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="imagination"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prejudice"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="psychology"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="schools"/><title type='text'>JUST TRUST THE KIDS</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;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Today I accompanied one of my fellow mates to a school that
he assists with, since I was a little bored to go to one of the schools I am
assigned to (We work with government schools in backward areas, about which I
will hopefully post very soon in detail, so don’t fret about the details!). It
is a typical Indian &lt;i&gt;sarkari(&lt;/i&gt;government)
school, set in the urban side of the district, but with a twist. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The
students who barely manage to attend classes are kids of rag-pickers, beggars
and homeless community of that area. Having spoken to quite a few teachers,
officials, community – members, and so on, about the children, I got to hear a
load of character traits about the little learners of this backward community.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmNzxvObEHTa7XJERzJkIWoM4GKDwDJ0MF-Is4O5AtUkAvKN-E3oMrt9iXFi5rhxMs8MGssFHzUZXnnNdfdEzQrCHlUJG2_Y9SKHFjWY9wnloiCVhfpRGvGCpp82yOpZX3ueua0bl9taQ/s1600/IMG_20130919_093753.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmNzxvObEHTa7XJERzJkIWoM4GKDwDJ0MF-Is4O5AtUkAvKN-E3oMrt9iXFi5rhxMs8MGssFHzUZXnnNdfdEzQrCHlUJG2_Y9SKHFjWY9wnloiCVhfpRGvGCpp82yOpZX3ueua0bl9taQ/s320/IMG_20130919_093753.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;The kids colouring away, while I watch on (I&#39;m in green)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; They steal!
They curse! They are violent! and what not. I walked into the class to see
curious little faces (I assume curious, for all I know they couldn’t care less
about my foreign entry). I sat in a corner as I observed the little kids be
just that – little kids. A lot of glances and a few hesitant smiles later I was
sitting with them on the floor talking about colours and trees and cows and
basically everything their minds ran towards.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I gave each
one a fresh piece of paper, opened up my new box of colours and gave them the
permission to pick any crayon they wished. They had a lot of creative juices
flowing on to the piece of paper for about an hour, when finally it was time
for lunch. They left, giving me their creations to eat the food that comes from
the government food distribution centres (Most of the kids here get just that
meal in the entire day!). Guess how many crayons out of the fifteen I had, were
left in my case?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; All of
them! Not a single kid stole a crayon, tore up the paper or misbehaved with me.
All of them were kids, just like any other kid I’ve met in all the schools I’ve
been too. I just trusted them and welcomed them with an open and prejudice –
free mind. I only wonder why this is so hard to do for so many of us adults!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;Don&#39;t forget to check out my other posts :&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2013/08/equal-and-free.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;EQUAL AND FREE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2013/02/gender-discrimination-with-education.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Gender Discrimination With An Education - Why I Make A Horrible Indian Wife&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/2141308883231967417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2013/09/just-trust-kids.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/2141308883231967417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/2141308883231967417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2013/09/just-trust-kids.html' title='JUST TRUST THE KIDS'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEjmNzxvObEHTa7XJERzJkIWoM4GKDwDJ0MF-Is4O5AtUkAvKN-E3oMrt9iXFi5rhxMs8MGssFHzUZXnnNdfdEzQrCHlUJG2_Y9SKHFjWY9wnloiCVhfpRGvGCpp82yOpZX3ueua0bl9taQ/s72-c/IMG_20130919_093753.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-690221183146717984</id><published>2013-08-01T02:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2014-05-20T21:48:14.514-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="change"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="child labour"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dream"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="education"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="equality"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fear"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fellowship"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gandhi"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="government schools"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mahatma"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="philosophy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="schools"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="self"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="socrates"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spirituality"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="village"/><title type='text'>EQUAL AND FREE</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;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #bf9000;&quot;&gt;“Let him who would move the world first move himself.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;apple-converted-space&quot; style=&quot;color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white; color: #7f6000; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white; color: #7f6000; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;~ Socrates&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;line-height: 15pt; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 10.5pt; position: relative; top: 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #bf9000;&quot;&gt;“You must be the
change you wish to see in the world.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #bf9000; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;line-height: 15pt; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #7f6000; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 15pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;&quot;&gt;~ Mahatma Gandhi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #7f6000; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 15pt;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;line-height: 15pt; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #7f6000;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 15pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I watched a
group of young kids of about 10 years old, working on a construction site,
bare-foot and bare-headed, as I walked back from one of India’s over 1 million &lt;i&gt;sarkari &lt;/i&gt;(government) schools that give
every child the right to free education. I wish I could say it was a heart –
wrenching sight for me, but it wasn’t! Child labour is dangerously a common
sight in India, ask every Indian!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&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/AVvXsEjW5MhURWadWSr4ktfRy7cCmAlljYiT1prGDGobterrj1PTFpsf8ju6cmXHjB4FhmK4QYbVrW-yQJ0h9YCGmsGGtME_TR0PXVtgXoOVVURxXOV7hgmqTAbjE0zDUtKLyHxHHe698vuZbhE/s1600/01072013018.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW5MhURWadWSr4ktfRy7cCmAlljYiT1prGDGobterrj1PTFpsf8ju6cmXHjB4FhmK4QYbVrW-yQJ0h9YCGmsGGtME_TR0PXVtgXoOVVURxXOV7hgmqTAbjE0zDUtKLyHxHHe698vuZbhE/s200/01072013018.JPG&quot; height=&quot;150&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I looked away almost indifferently, but
somewhere I could feel a little light switch on. I was there for a reason. &amp;nbsp;I was at the government school in a village,
working towards my dream to the change the education system of this country. That
was my reason. But if there are millions of kids still on the streets, having
to work ruthlessly to fill their stomachs, with just two square meals a day,
what change can I possibly bring?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNbefrQRbZZVPKLLALZDuv00U4uZnIAf0Na20qMupeLxV5cIkV0IneWhutVRA401ApVwIdtjLxwVWwVDM_nfIoBArYKKvp5cyoZiYu5y4SJDIhTE956rebV73MoTNUJP7oE-n3wrj7MPs/s1600/01072013011.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNbefrQRbZZVPKLLALZDuv00U4uZnIAf0Na20qMupeLxV5cIkV0IneWhutVRA401ApVwIdtjLxwVWwVDM_nfIoBArYKKvp5cyoZiYu5y4SJDIhTE956rebV73MoTNUJP7oE-n3wrj7MPs/s200/01072013011.JPG&quot; height=&quot;150&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I
change one kid. Is it enough? I change one school. So what? I change one
village. What about the rest of this humungous nation? These changes never last
long anyway. I will never be done. So what on earth is the point of it all?...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; When
I was younger, I was an annoying little girl (some may say I still am), who
complained and whined about the system, the society’s evils, deforestation,
people’s attitude, animal testing and so on. To change the world, you have to
first change yourself I was told. I would whine and complain even more saying,
such a clogged point of view would never change anything.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; As
I walked away from the working kids, I finally understood!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: left; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNBAI3X42mqi67KbqFR0cTuP4OPXUE1XWgkzE1jGeOYn1b3-dDDRHE4xgfSTqYhkVrh3LNCinCuqWNL8M1BUsvUFkOTkcNY6vhrM_OAsr1pw57OV2ndCqb8tzUmIp9lcNZ5y-di9mmtfA/s1600/07072013084.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNBAI3X42mqi67KbqFR0cTuP4OPXUE1XWgkzE1jGeOYn1b3-dDDRHE4xgfSTqYhkVrh3LNCinCuqWNL8M1BUsvUFkOTkcNY6vhrM_OAsr1pw57OV2ndCqb8tzUmIp9lcNZ5y-di9mmtfA/s1600/07072013084.JPG&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;font-size: 13px; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;The&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;sarkari&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;school kids that I work with.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;font-size: medium; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Imagine
if I looked into my own self and changed my way of thinking, my way of life and
my philosophy. Imagine I change myself. Now, imagine if all of us looked into
our own selves and changed our way of thinking, our way of life and our
philosophy. Imagine we all change ourselves! &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; By changing myself, I have become a
part of that changed society where every being is equal and free, have I not?
This change is big enough and long lasting enough to actually make a difference
(yipeeee!). By changing myself, I have become a part of that society that gives
a child the education it deserves, away from the life of a child labourer, have
I not? By changing ourselves, we become a part of a society where every being
is truly equal and free!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
Don&#39;t Forget To Check Out :&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2013/06/is-daythat-i-feel-i-have-to-write-down.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Destination Dharamsaala!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2012/08/the-little-things-that-make-heaven.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;The Little Things That Make Heaven&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/690221183146717984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2013/08/equal-and-free.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/690221183146717984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/690221183146717984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2013/08/equal-and-free.html' title='EQUAL AND FREE'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEjW5MhURWadWSr4ktfRy7cCmAlljYiT1prGDGobterrj1PTFpsf8ju6cmXHjB4FhmK4QYbVrW-yQJ0h9YCGmsGGtME_TR0PXVtgXoOVVURxXOV7hgmqTAbjE0zDUtKLyHxHHe698vuZbhE/s72-c/01072013018.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-3823162500805957959</id><published>2013-07-11T06:36:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2013-07-11T06:40:03.107-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Backpack"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="change"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="confidence"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="courage"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dream"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fear"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fellowship"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fight"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fly"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="inspiration"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="journey"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="travel"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="udaipur"/><title type='text'>The Super(wo)man Inside all of Us...!</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;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Strong. Independent. Brave. I am not new to these words
being used to describe me, obviously used after Stubborn. Weird. Short,
nonetheless I accept these compliments with a big smile and an odd giggle as if
I am in accordance with their description of me. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_p7u5lPsykwLxMOiT2W9zoN4le0UtBSdR-7ux36X8OtotKpHX1ugAF3Dsu_QfrAL4nzAPfhm2N9PIS9JbN4dPckpE3VQIcSUK_-Fqug4L4IVT_ukPHgNMzTcTBpZGLXfDh2aqcvWzi7g/s1600/induction.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;213&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_p7u5lPsykwLxMOiT2W9zoN4le0UtBSdR-7ux36X8OtotKpHX1ugAF3Dsu_QfrAL4nzAPfhm2N9PIS9JbN4dPckpE3VQIcSUK_-Fqug4L4IVT_ukPHgNMzTcTBpZGLXfDh2aqcvWzi7g/s320/induction.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;The Fellowship ended up being one of the&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;best learning experiences, and the journey is still on&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; As to why
anyone would say “How do you do it?”, or “where do you get the courage from?”
or even “You are soooooo brave!”, fret not, I shall explain. I am a tiny little
unmarried Indian girl who loves to travel and do things I’ve never done before.
Since it is a tough task to carry my mother around with me, it means I travel
alone. Yes! Alone! Which is apparently super unusual for an Indian girl. Why? That
is a story for another day.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; As to me
being all brave and superwoman. I am not! I shake, shiver and decide to quit
all the time. I am writing this very blog post from a train from Delhi to
Udaipur, where I start my life’s new chapter, working on a fellowship to help
improve the Indian education scenario. Just a day before I was hiding under my
friend’s blanket, shrieking that I didn’t want to leave the bed! &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; My dear
friend had to go through quite a riot to calm my nerves down, but once I got on
the road I was fine. It took a lot to get to “fine”, but I most certainly did!
If I had given up the second I felt my heart race and my legs quiver, then I
wouldn’t be on my way to my dream of working with schools, I would have long gone
back home only to quit other opportunities that presented itself to me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Am I brave?
I do not know… Do I get scared? Hell yeah!... Do I let it stop me? Once I’m out
of hiding under my blanket, I’m up for any challenge! &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimKaDSo4L3zP_QnNzGw1eb3YZzXXCKhYPzGOmE_EQJKHSaM0e1SKBbuWuEVCdHpZwB6yrkHEZ9FppSROFsUm_X2fNSsVz5crau7YJ8le7BxplIDIRe0aZ-FPA_akHQ1ukt4Ro6B-3lwPc/s1600/P1040477.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimKaDSo4L3zP_QnNzGw1eb3YZzXXCKhYPzGOmE_EQJKHSaM0e1SKBbuWuEVCdHpZwB6yrkHEZ9FppSROFsUm_X2fNSsVz5crau7YJ8le7BxplIDIRe0aZ-FPA_akHQ1ukt4Ro6B-3lwPc/s320/P1040477.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;At home anywhere the world has to offer me.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; If facing
my fears to reach my dreams, means I’m strong, brave and independent, then I
guess I am. But, it certainly is not something I was born with. The more I face
life and fight, the more easier it gets to get up and actually move forward. It
doesn’t mean I get any less scared. Change and New Journeys still frighten me
to bits, but now I have the confidence that it will be fine!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The fear of
the unknown and of new challenges is natural. We all experience it one time or
the other. In fact if you don’t get nervous, then there is something to be worried
about! Go. Dream. Fly! Don’t let your fears stop you from doing all that your
heart desires, just like how I don’t let it stop me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
P.S: Sorry for the lame captions on the pictures! Too stressed out to come out with something more creative.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
Don&#39;t forget to also check out :&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2013/06/is-daythat-i-feel-i-have-to-write-down.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Destination Dharamsaala!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2013/02/only-because-she-was-woman.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Only Because She Was A Woman!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/3823162500805957959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2013/07/the-superwoman-inside-all-of-us.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/3823162500805957959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/3823162500805957959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2013/07/the-superwoman-inside-all-of-us.html' title='The Super(wo)man Inside all of Us...!'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEh_p7u5lPsykwLxMOiT2W9zoN4le0UtBSdR-7ux36X8OtotKpHX1ugAF3Dsu_QfrAL4nzAPfhm2N9PIS9JbN4dPckpE3VQIcSUK_-Fqug4L4IVT_ukPHgNMzTcTBpZGLXfDh2aqcvWzi7g/s72-c/induction.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-184903257787878917</id><published>2013-06-10T23:03:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2013-06-10T23:14:38.511-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Backpack"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="culture"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="David frost"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Dharamsaala"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Himachal Pradesh"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="India"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Monastery"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tibet"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tibetans"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="travel"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Travel India"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Travel world"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Volunteer"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="women rights.  indian bride"/><title type='text'>Destination Dharamsaala!</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;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;tab-stops: -4.5pt; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;tab-stops: -4.5pt; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;This is a day
that I feel I &lt;i&gt;have&lt;/i&gt; to write down, for
reasons that words just can’t explain. I’m saying this at the risk of sounding
too romantic, but what’s the harm in falling in love with life, falling in love
with the world, but not falling in love with a guy?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;tab-stops: -4.5pt; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;With all my
stubborn determination to travel the world, inspite of my previous mini-travel
experiences, I have finally landed in Dharamsaala as a true traveler, or so I
hope. Walking around the street alone in the beginning felt a little lonely,
but as the sun climbed up the sky, through the clouds drizzling rain on us, the
day just got better and better, and I somehow know that one post on my blog is
just not enough to describe it, you have to live it!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-NkBnDMhgYLLm3PIpX0E0hNJZzSmuFH8VPlQBacl4oSJqQzDWxRynjUg6_qXtbI8NDcA8Q63qRKrnfd_pERxBVnEaPCgmQn7p-L9x8DU45GsLAzpNehJRhusyHunj7pnTpqKv96tDhlo/s1600/07062013906.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-NkBnDMhgYLLm3PIpX0E0hNJZzSmuFH8VPlQBacl4oSJqQzDWxRynjUg6_qXtbI8NDcA8Q63qRKrnfd_pERxBVnEaPCgmQn7p-L9x8DU45GsLAzpNehJRhusyHunj7pnTpqKv96tDhlo/s1600/07062013906.JPG&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;The Stupa at the Monastery that I am staying in&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;tab-stops: -4.5pt; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;It began with
joining a volunteering organization that helps teach Tibetan refugees foreign
languages. Had a conversation class with a bunch of chatty enthusiastic Tibetan
sweethearts, right after meeting travelers from Israel, Finland, USA, Canada
and Britain who came in to volunteer as well.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;tab-stops: -4.5pt; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
Getting lost on
the mountains to find a library certainly helped me lose a few kilos. I did not
find the library, but I did find another organization that I fell in love with
and will be teaching English at. Met a retired teacher from Taiwan who
travelled the world with her seven year old daughter, had probably the world’s
best momo soup and walked back to the monastery that I stay in. (Yes! I am
living in a real monastery that has monks walking around in their red robes)&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;tab-stops: -4.5pt; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I could just go
on about this one single day! (and I will). Had weird chocolate donuts in a
wonderful café, reading a book about Buddhism, whose most striking phrase was
“If you still call yourself a Buddhist then you aren’t a true Buddha yet.” and
met my student who I am going to teach French.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;tab-stops: -4.5pt; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Then I ended up
in a café called “Hope Café” where I watched a documentary about the atrocities
committed against Tibetans in China, with a bunch of amazing travelers. A
British traveler who spent a few days in a jail in Iran, an Irish woman
teaching English in Thailand, an Australian who really was touched by the
Tibetan issue and so many others made my day even more eventful as we enjoyed
chocolate momos.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0-yQGWfxusqXpcJ_LqqvabHZqGDrW33u_Q746tldqvawsdmVw5jCZjM7gVRwlXRKDRqvEgl99OSZM9DNdTgEzAi8tnJt_3BXUfMG0-rbcUbmUli1YEazoZI1C0xzbfl5XfOShsVma2Qs/s1600/20130609_184740.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0-yQGWfxusqXpcJ_LqqvabHZqGDrW33u_Q746tldqvawsdmVw5jCZjM7gVRwlXRKDRqvEgl99OSZM9DNdTgEzAi8tnJt_3BXUfMG0-rbcUbmUli1YEazoZI1C0xzbfl5XfOShsVma2Qs/s1600/20130609_184740.jpg&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;A Valley In Dharamsaala.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;tab-stops: -4.5pt; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I can really go
on about how amazing my day was, or how amazing Dharamsaala is or even how
amazing chocolate momos are, but that would just be a little teenage girl
writing in her personal diary. Whereas I have had an epiphany today, that
didn&#39;t come as a surprise to me. The experiences that I have had, the memories
that I have made and certainly the friends that I have earned, in just the past
24 hours travelling in a exotic unknown destination, have given me so much more
than the past twenty years of my ‘settled’ life at ‘home’! &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;tab-stops: -4.5pt; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Just one day,
and I am all revved up to experience the world. Why not? It is our only home
after all, with just so much to offer to us isn&#39;t it? A little pause to big
travels dreams,&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;as I have to receive my mom’s phone call from ‘home’, as she
calls me all worried about me being alone and not being in the comforts of her
cooking.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;tab-stops: -4.5pt; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;tab-stops: -4.5pt; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
Don&#39;t forget To Also Read :&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2013/03/the-choice-between-me-and-what-you-want.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;The Choice Between Me And What You Want Me To Be&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2012/09/dream-to-be-free.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Dream To Be Free&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/184903257787878917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2013/06/is-daythat-i-feel-i-have-to-write-down.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/184903257787878917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/184903257787878917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2013/06/is-daythat-i-feel-i-have-to-write-down.html' title='Destination Dharamsaala!'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEi-NkBnDMhgYLLm3PIpX0E0hNJZzSmuFH8VPlQBacl4oSJqQzDWxRynjUg6_qXtbI8NDcA8Q63qRKrnfd_pERxBVnEaPCgmQn7p-L9x8DU45GsLAzpNehJRhusyHunj7pnTpqKv96tDhlo/s72-c/07062013906.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-2144167288588961168</id><published>2013-05-24T04:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2013-05-28T11:39:33.020-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bureaucracy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="certificate"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="change"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="college"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Different"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="government"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="India"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="People"/><title type='text'>The Indian Bureaucracy almost made me leave my country!  </title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Today was a hard day for me. Hard as an average common-man Indian! It led me to the extreme of asking my best friend as to how I could acquire a citizenship to Australia(No favouritism here! But any developed nation would do). I am no drama queen, but sometimes an insignificant incident(insignificant to others eyes) can trigger the deepest emotions in me.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I needed a simple study certificate from my college just to state that I am a student of the college, so that I can use it to apply for a passport. Having spent three precious years of my youth studying in that college, I reckoned this would be no hard task, but boy was I wrong!&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; First of all there is no specific person who really handles issues of students, because students are expected not to have issues. You see we are &quot;educated&quot; to become sheeple( Sheep&amp;nbsp;+ people), so doing anything other than what is strictly instructed to us in the name of disciple, is not an option. Regardless, I managed to find the office staff that would know something about the certificate, literally doing nothing at his desk. Nothing!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8vUctmTsdESBL8777AGDjZsDhM70qt5vPjYsi8Av3eo4i0IwQ87c5DeHqOyAkgWsLWdKUiB3HAZLgMYjOnLnlOFoslTUy69Elg4wTVkxuMNwa0CkivdsPwCuN1W16ojd7Nc-DoHh3fD0/s1600/bureaucracy.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8vUctmTsdESBL8777AGDjZsDhM70qt5vPjYsi8Av3eo4i0IwQ87c5DeHqOyAkgWsLWdKUiB3HAZLgMYjOnLnlOFoslTUy69Elg4wTVkxuMNwa0CkivdsPwCuN1W16ojd7Nc-DoHh3fD0/s1600/bureaucracy.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;When he realised I approached him with a potentially hazardous errand, requiring him to get up from his chair(oh how on earth could I ask him to do his job? How wrong of me!) he had a couple of excuses that was evidently pre-rehearsed. So now I know I am not the only one having to climb mountains to get a simple certificate.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; In spite of the fact that all my proof of address, date of birth and even proof of my existence had already been submitted to them, when I was admitted as a student to the very same college, he asked me to submit a whole bunch of other proofs! That too in a tone that was meant to remind me that I was subservient to his bureaucratic position. The tone mattes a lot, it is a window to the attitude that they carry towards us students.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;No matter what he asked of me, at that moment when I was filled with utter frustration at his incompetence and his evident bullying attitude, I realised how helpless I was. With no insane amounts of money in my pocket or an influential politician in my family tree, I could not get anything done in this system if I were to follow the correct norms and procedures. I either had to bribe him, bully him or end up getting bullied and waste days of my precious youth running around him to get things done!&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;The bureaucracy of India works as if it does a favour to those who approach their desks for things to get done. Some of us maybe at such positions too, some of us might get into those positions some day soon, but when we get to that position, why do we all forget our duty? Why do we forget to do the job that is asked of us? Why do we forget that no matter how small the work that is asked of us might be, it is still a part of the system that we are a part of? No matter how insignificant it may seem, the longer we take to get it done, the more clogs and obstacles you add to the system. At the end of the day, making us responsible for the slow, irresponsible and frustrating system that manages to hold this country back from becoming great!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghsMde8we4oFFYIV59VEGIxFJhwKhnMrosuvA6CwuDx5mKpuAzG6QKQJ7kSCm3v0xDfZTGyFWp9OQcRuVkp7K2kqRqld9daDVci2GWQKZtMvMjmdkciA8EymPGLiCd_U8296c_BhtrC6Y/s1600/images+(6).jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;203&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghsMde8we4oFFYIV59VEGIxFJhwKhnMrosuvA6CwuDx5mKpuAzG6QKQJ7kSCm3v0xDfZTGyFWp9OQcRuVkp7K2kqRqld9daDVci2GWQKZtMvMjmdkciA8EymPGLiCd_U8296c_BhtrC6Y/s320/images+(6).jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Do not underestimate yourself to the extent that you begin to think nothing that you do has an impact in the world. Everything we do has an impact somewhere, somehow and on someone. Every action of yours or even every inaction will have ramifications that you are responsible for. Begin to think of yourself as a part of a system that is working to a better tomorrow. Then maybe our bureaucracy, our governmet, our education and finally our country might move forward towards a better India. Or else, a citizenship to Australia is always an option!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Don&#39;t Forget To Read :&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2013/02/gender-discrimination-with-education.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Why I Make A Horrible Indian Wife&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2012/08/the-little-things-that-make-heaven.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Little Things That Make Heaven&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/2144167288588961168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2013/05/was-hard-day-for-me.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/2144167288588961168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/2144167288588961168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2013/05/was-hard-day-for-me.html' title='The Indian Bureaucracy almost made me leave my country!  '/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEh8vUctmTsdESBL8777AGDjZsDhM70qt5vPjYsi8Av3eo4i0IwQ87c5DeHqOyAkgWsLWdKUiB3HAZLgMYjOnLnlOFoslTUy69Elg4wTVkxuMNwa0CkivdsPwCuN1W16ojd7Nc-DoHh3fD0/s72-c/bureaucracy.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-1083112241446540385</id><published>2013-05-12T14:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2013-05-12T14:32:56.852-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Behaivour"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="equality"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gender inequality"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="girlfriends"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Human rights"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="humanity"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Law"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="little changes"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Morality"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="peers"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="People"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="protest"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Society"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="students"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Women"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="women equality"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="women rights.  indian bride"/><title type='text'>He Said He Has Three Girlfriends!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;It was just another day at my friend&#39;s place, the usual jibber-jabber, the annoyingly loud television and the random college friends walking in&amp;nbsp;conveniently adding in their confusion into the jibber-jabber, that made no sense in the first place. Amidst this chaos, that one can surprisingly get used to, my friend introduced me to a new member, who I hadn&#39;t had the opportunity to meet before(I say opportunity since he is the protagonist of this blog post)&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &quot;He is most famous guy in college and he has three girlfriends, all crazy about him.&quot; This was the first statement that heralded his initiation into the group. He blushed and his pride in this &quot;achievement&quot; of his was evident.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;To my surprise my friend looked at me with a glance that hinted that I remark on the new member&#39;s ability to collect women as one would collect candies or toy cars! All that came out my mouth was a &quot;Sorry!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMt6u0rUBHwIOTlzawUGX-pS5sSEPKfXoWfHDDkuQpGIajqXmeH5TmQcsBltsBmnKtpn45yXFbzAdp9kOI9WaDVoS-hUsOKb_es6eLPf3mLqpe7lIJg5cWnIQG75Y1lI0T3eSkVXdrI-k/s1600/gf.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMt6u0rUBHwIOTlzawUGX-pS5sSEPKfXoWfHDDkuQpGIajqXmeH5TmQcsBltsBmnKtpn45yXFbzAdp9kOI9WaDVoS-hUsOKb_es6eLPf3mLqpe7lIJg5cWnIQG75Y1lI0T3eSkVXdrI-k/s1600/gf.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;As expected, looks of confusion were directed at me. I realised I was supposed to be impressed somehow and probably should have offered to be the fourth girlfriend. I had to cover up and say &quot;I&#39;m sorry for you! It&#39;s a struggle to even survive one relationship, and you manage three&quot;, when I originally wanted to say &quot;I&#39;m sorry for you! Your lack of a decent education and mental maturity is so evident.&quot; But then again it was our first rendez-vous, and I didn&#39;t want to scare the guy away with my strong opinions and principles(Call &lt;i&gt;me &lt;/i&gt;crazy!)&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; I should have been more offended at the fact that such a young and a potential&amp;nbsp;future advocate of this nation(this jibber-jabbering lot were all students of Law) , didn&#39;t comprehend how preposterous his &quot;achievement&quot; of not only&amp;nbsp;deceiving three women was, but also how badly it reflected on his ability to treat women as an equal gender that deserved respect and courtesy. But then again who am &lt;i&gt;I&lt;/i&gt; to say anything!&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; I was more disappointed with my friend who welcomed in this member to whom women were just&amp;nbsp;collectible&amp;nbsp;items, with open arms (literally!). The day continued on as if nothing was wrong and nothing needed any attention.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBcUM7abGaHQ-WicsUluXjT0fusWwI_eyD2vTeIPaWvbOJ4UfUF4XCcjWXWsUeUFLn8XrM23wWdUi_nVnd-CrQ-Q-gHJO6MnNYOgOkAuCkyCE0L8x3eYjuaUXZb1Q5TvivE0a37YvQ51s/s1600/gf1.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;271&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBcUM7abGaHQ-WicsUluXjT0fusWwI_eyD2vTeIPaWvbOJ4UfUF4XCcjWXWsUeUFLn8XrM23wWdUi_nVnd-CrQ-Q-gHJO6MnNYOgOkAuCkyCE0L8x3eYjuaUXZb1Q5TvivE0a37YvQ51s/s400/gf1.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; As a society and as citizens we have the right to draw a line as to what is acceptable and what is not. We hold loud discussions in&amp;nbsp;cafeterias about the condition of women in this nation, we throw mud on the government for not protecting women enough and eventually we point fingers at the women itself for provoking the crime done against them, but none of us ever stand up in our everyday lives against people like him.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;His choice of treatment of&amp;nbsp;women and his wrongly-placed pride in it should have found a stop amongst his peers, who have the ability to realise how damaging an attitude such as that can be not only to the three women, but the society at large. Yet we fear and we hesitate to say NO! STOP! Women are equal! Women deserve better!&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;*Everyone has the equal right to be with the partner they choose and exercise their sexual freedom, but only as long as the rights of the other people involved are also being respected!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #e7f4d8; font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;Things do not change; we change&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #e7f4d8; font-family: Arial; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;~HENRY DAVID THOREAU&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #e7f4d8; font-family: Arial; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #e7f4d8; font-family: Arial; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #e7f4d8; font-family: Arial; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #e7f4d8; font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;Don&#39;t Forget to Read :&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2013/03/the-choice-between-me-and-what-you-want.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;The choice between ME and who YOU want me to be&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2013/02/how-can-i-be-proud-of-being-indian-woman.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;How can I be proud of being an Indian Woman?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/1083112241446540385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2013/05/he-said-he-had-three-girlfriends.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/1083112241446540385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/1083112241446540385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2013/05/he-said-he-had-three-girlfriends.html' title='He Said He Has Three Girlfriends!'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEjMt6u0rUBHwIOTlzawUGX-pS5sSEPKfXoWfHDDkuQpGIajqXmeH5TmQcsBltsBmnKtpn45yXFbzAdp9kOI9WaDVoS-hUsOKb_es6eLPf3mLqpe7lIJg5cWnIQG75Y1lI0T3eSkVXdrI-k/s72-c/gf.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-5118614365813694208</id><published>2013-04-23T01:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2013-04-23T01:59:26.519-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Behaivour"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="big impact"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="change"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Human rights"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="identity"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="India"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Law"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="liberty"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="little changes"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="People"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="protest"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="university"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Women"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="women equality"/><title type='text'>Where Are All The Mothers And The Wives?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
It is that time of the year, where tensions are high as the
exams are around the corner. Though half of the country is boiling with anger
over the countless rapes of women and little girls in the nation, our universities
continue to follow their routine of examinations. I belong to one such
university and the whole last week was spent in filling up forms and paying
fees for the same cause.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Though the
medieval practice of filling up paper forms and standing in queues for hours
together, when we belong to the age of internet, really frustrated me, what
caused me more anger was the fact that every form asked for my &lt;i&gt;father’s &lt;/i&gt;name or in some cases my &lt;i&gt;husband’s&lt;/i&gt; name. Somehow, the women of my
life where considered either non-existent or maybe not fit enough to be
identified with.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRL7AKXfmfuim66no2tln-CPe7ht53X3BqTP0rBzjPb8Gn_Upo3gI_1XtND1LzTtDft59UFmNMNRawmyw1M4JahWHMocqIppq3sczMMmVkv-GDl0qR1042sx7Sklf6GO6jnlsvwtd34SU/s1600/ourIDs.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRL7AKXfmfuim66no2tln-CPe7ht53X3BqTP0rBzjPb8Gn_Upo3gI_1XtND1LzTtDft59UFmNMNRawmyw1M4JahWHMocqIppq3sczMMmVkv-GDl0qR1042sx7Sklf6GO6jnlsvwtd34SU/s320/ourIDs.jpg&quot; width=&quot;254&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Have women no identity?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; In a time
when people are protesting against heinous crimes such as rape, my little
complaint of not including a woman at an equal position in the administration,
might seem menial. Then again, it is the little changes that lead to the
biggest impact.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Even when
the trend of anti-corruption swallowed our nation, and everybody was filled
with a zeal to fight corruption, the flame faded of soon. When in reality the
real fighters of this cause are small actions taken by people every day. Little
things such as teaching your kids to value the right things in life and not run
after wealth alone, or choosing to pay the fine for not wearing the helmet
instead of bribing the traffic policeman.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Even with
the cause of the equal treatment of women, the little things in our daily
lives, can bring the biggest impact. If we start genuinely considering women as
equal, and include their names in places where only men stood before, then
wouldn’t equality of women come naturally in the country? Waiting for big
changes at the level of parliament and supreme courts would mean nothing, if in
our everyday lives, we still fail to see women as equal, and fail to see women
as that half of the society that can not only have its own identity, but also
give identity to their children and spouses.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Don&#39;t Forget To Also Read :&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2013/04/battle-for-gender-equality.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Battle For Gender Equality&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2010/09/intelligent-and-wise-humans.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;The Animal Side Of Man&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/5118614365813694208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2013/04/where-are-all-mothers-and-wives.html#comment-form' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/5118614365813694208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/5118614365813694208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2013/04/where-are-all-mothers-and-wives.html' title='Where Are All The Mothers And The Wives?'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEhRL7AKXfmfuim66no2tln-CPe7ht53X3BqTP0rBzjPb8Gn_Upo3gI_1XtND1LzTtDft59UFmNMNRawmyw1M4JahWHMocqIppq3sczMMmVkv-GDl0qR1042sx7Sklf6GO6jnlsvwtd34SU/s72-c/ourIDs.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7850611315728105605.post-895962942554853586</id><published>2013-04-02T10:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2013-04-03T21:05:54.775-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Behaivour"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="democracy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Different"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gender inequality"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Global warming"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Human rights"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="humanity"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="India"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Law"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="liberty"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Morality"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Society"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="women rights.  indian bride"/><title type='text'>Battle for Gender Equality</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
“This is the first time in the history that we are talking
about equality of gender”. As I heard these words from my friend’s mouth, I
realized the magnanimity of his statement. We, as a generation, are part of a
progressive change in the very foundation of society. Slow, yet existent.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd_zVil0gmPy3E1bCs72ZBqZh15CZDtmE3NqFjDj26xZAV2Am7vgXthqnPVwyw2x3RYIeU0U8v5_5dB1whnLinBpxBiDtLHI8yLjSTqyBTmij9-4tNS1wJthyphenhyphenIxo_hAxjCau5EkGhptME/s1600/gender+equality.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd_zVil0gmPy3E1bCs72ZBqZh15CZDtmE3NqFjDj26xZAV2Am7vgXthqnPVwyw2x3RYIeU0U8v5_5dB1whnLinBpxBiDtLHI8yLjSTqyBTmij9-4tNS1wJthyphenhyphenIxo_hAxjCau5EkGhptME/s1600/gender+equality.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Man and
Woman, or as feminists would suggest, Woman and Man, have now the opportunity
to talk about being considered equal and treated as individuals, regardless of
the gender they belong to. This does not mean they are both expected to bear
offsprings, or both expected to run as fast, but it means both the genders have
the equal rights to choose the lives that they wish to have.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; As history
stands to teach us, Change has never come easy. Scholars who said the earth was
round, when everybody was more than convinced it was flat; freedom-fighters who
said the foreign invaders had no place ravaging their homelands and fought for
freedom; or educated citizens who said no king or queen could govern a country
as effectively as a democratic republic, can all stand testimony to how tough
and testing change can be!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; In this
generation, the change we talk of is the way we look at the genders that exist
in our societies (or rather, in our minds). We are the people who will be
remembered in the future centuries to come, as the people who broke down
barriers that has pulled people down with true potential for greatness, and
freed them from the binds that force them to conform to the norms of the
gender-biased societies. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq_YwtfX5euEcEUAHojWDbuBuAQ0BO1zDsyR9DjH-TaI5rC0zWGQZqYOnK2I2i_ZBTkBtzXT4m1S6vjurmjD8eEVWhcYrSR-fU2VdWxP-Oh-1vK3CgLpnMPdTrrIjxNjeGT5j__3XrPPk/s1600/gender+equality2.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq_YwtfX5euEcEUAHojWDbuBuAQ0BO1zDsyR9DjH-TaI5rC0zWGQZqYOnK2I2i_ZBTkBtzXT4m1S6vjurmjD8eEVWhcYrSR-fU2VdWxP-Oh-1vK3CgLpnMPdTrrIjxNjeGT5j__3XrPPk/s1600/gender+equality2.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Do we want
to be a part of this change? Do we want to be remembered for the greatness that
we as a community have achieved? Do we want to allow people to achieve
greatness and contribute to the entire humanity moving forward? Why not!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The world
was always faced with new innovations, theories and techniques, that rattled
its very foundation. The discovery of fire, the invention of the computer, the
proposal of the Big Bang Theory, the concept of Free Education, and countless
such examples taken from the very history of the species that we belong to.
None of these changes were accepted painlessly, yet they eventually were. The
path to gender equality also faces a similar destiny.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The little
battles fought today, will certainly bring about the change that people have
begun to realize, is necessary in this world. Why not be a part of this battle
and fight the odds, afterall change is the only thing that is constant.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Also Read :&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2013/02/only-because-she-was-woman.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Only Because She Was A Woman&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://spoopema.blogspot.in/2012/06/happiness-or-peace.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Happiness Or Peace&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/feeds/895962942554853586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2013/04/battle-for-gender-equality.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/895962942554853586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7850611315728105605/posts/default/895962942554853586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spoopema.blogspot.com/2013/04/battle-for-gender-equality.html' title='Battle for Gender Equality'/><author><name>Spoo Pema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13019504075143998777</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/AVvXsEjd_zVil0gmPy3E1bCs72ZBqZh15CZDtmE3NqFjDj26xZAV2Am7vgXthqnPVwyw2x3RYIeU0U8v5_5dB1whnLinBpxBiDtLHI8yLjSTqyBTmij9-4tNS1wJthyphenhyphenIxo_hAxjCau5EkGhptME/s72-c/gender+equality.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>