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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DkIDQH4_cCp7ImA9WhRWFEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892</id><updated>2012-01-02T08:52:51.048+05:30</updated><category term="Reviews" /><category term="randomness" /><category term="Emotions" /><category term="Sketches" /><category term="Eve" /><category term="Daily rants" /><category term="Stories" /><category term="Relationships" /><category term="Publicity" /><category term="Friends" /><category term="Photos" /><category term="Sarcasm" /><category term="Philosophy" /><category term="State of mind" /><category term="Culture" /><category term="Thoughts" /><category term="Memories" /><category term="Singlehood" /><category term="Women" /><category term="Fun" /><category term="Customs" /><category term="Creativity" /><category term="Ads" /><category term="Theories" /><category term="Videos" /><category term="Life" /><category term="Questions" /><category term="Travel" /><category term="family" /><category term="Food" /><category term="Beauty" /><category term="Forwards" /><category term="Weekends" /><category term="quotes" /><category term="Faith" /><category term="Lyrics" /><category term="Home" /><category term="The Shark" /><category term="India" /><category term="News" /><category term="Venting" /><category term="Lists" /><category term="Injustice" /><category term="Issues" /><category term="humor" /><title>Lost in Wonder</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>265</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/LostInWonder" /><feedburner:info uri="lostinwonder" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><link rel="license" type="text/html" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.5/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU8BSHw9eCp7ImA9WhZRFU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-4765609912125345847</id><published>2011-04-11T12:07:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-04-11T12:07:39.260+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-11T12:07:39.260+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Injustice" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Issues" /><title>Child Sexual Abuse Awareness Month - April 2011</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://csaawarenessmonth.wordpress.com/" target="blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://csaawarenessmonth.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/csa-logo.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm a bit late in finding out that this month was Child Sexual Abuse Awareness Month. In a country that is on fire for fighting corruption, this would be a good time to recognize that child abuse corrupts the souls, hearts and minds of our child and if this is allowed to continue, India will never be free of corruption. I pray that this cause will be taken up and that no sex offender/ pedophile will be allowed to hurt our children ever again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-4765609912125345847?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/eb1OoUfIDN8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/4765609912125345847/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=4765609912125345847" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/4765609912125345847?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/4765609912125345847?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/eb1OoUfIDN8/child-sexual-abuse-awareness-month.html" title="Child Sexual Abuse Awareness Month - April 2011" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2011/04/child-sexual-abuse-awareness-month.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkAFQHo4fSp7ImA9Wx5QGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-6691086848506623068</id><published>2010-09-07T12:59:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-09-07T13:01:51.435+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-07T13:01:51.435+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Forwards" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Thoughts" /><title>Pick of the fowards #1</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I was sent this forward recently. I thought it was one of the&amp;nbsp;funniest and truest one I'd received in a long time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Schools UK (or anywhere else)&amp;nbsp;-- 1970 vs. 2010&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Scenario:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Johnny and Mark get into a fistfight after school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;1970 -&lt;/span&gt; Crowd gathers. Johnny wins. Johnny and Mark shake hands and end up best mates for life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;2010 -&lt;/span&gt; Police called, arrests Johnny and Mark.. Charge them with assault, both expelled even though Mark started it. Both children go to anger management programs for 3 months. School board hold meeting to impliment bullying prevention programs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Scenario:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Robbie won't Keep still in class, disrupts other students.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;1970 &lt;/span&gt;- Robbie sent to office and given 6 of the best by the Headmaster. Returns to class, sits still and does not disrupt class again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;2010 -&lt;/span&gt; Robbie given huge doses of Ritalin. Becomes a zombie. Tested for ADD. Robbie's parents get fortnightly disability payments and School gets extra funding from state because Robbie has a disability.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Scenario :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Billy breaks a window in his neighbour's car and his Dad gives him a whipping with his belt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;1970 -&lt;/span&gt; Billy is more careful next time, grows up normal, goes to college, and becomes a successful businessman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;2010 -&lt;/span&gt; Billy's dad is arrested for child abuse. Billy removed to foster care and joins a gang. Goverment psychologist tells Billy's sister that she remembers being abused herself and their dad goes to prison. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Scenario :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Mark gets a headache and takes some aspirin to school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;1970 -&lt;/span&gt; Mark gets glass of water from Teacher to take aspirin with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;2010 -&lt;/span&gt; Police called, Mark expelled from school for drug violations. Car searched for drugs and weapons. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Scenario :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Johnny takes apart leftover firecrackers from Guy Fawkes, puts them in a model airfix paint bottle, blows up an ant’s nest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;1970 -&lt;/span&gt; Ants die.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;2010-&lt;/span&gt; Police, Armed Forces, &amp;amp; Anti-terrorism Squad called. Johnny charged with domestic terrorism, MI5 investigate parents, siblings removed from home, computers confiscated. Johnny's Dad goes on a terror watch list and is never allowed to fly again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Scenario :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Johnny falls while running during break and scrapes his knee. He is found crying by his teacher, Mary . Mary hugs him to comfort him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;1970 -&lt;/span&gt; In a short time, Johnny feels better and goes on playing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;2010 -&lt;/span&gt; Mary is accused of being a sexual predator and loses her job. She faces 3 years in Prison. Johnny undergoes 5 years of therapy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;This should be sent to every e-mail address to show how stupid we have become!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Think about it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-6691086848506623068?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/tS9_Mu28awQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/6691086848506623068/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=6691086848506623068" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/6691086848506623068?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/6691086848506623068?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/tS9_Mu28awQ/pick-of-fowards-1.html" title="Pick of the fowards #1" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2010/09/pick-of-fowards-1.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMNQXkyeSp7ImA9WxBUF0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-5982731056463330803</id><published>2010-03-05T14:11:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2010-03-05T14:11:30.791+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-05T14:11:30.791+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="News" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Eve" /><title>Baby, it's cold outside</title><content type="html">There, I just submitted my blog to some major detoxification. I worry more about the health of my online journal than my body's. It's very sad. It was a choice of either wiping myself clean off the personal blogging space or wiping off personal blogging space from my blog. I've heard that sometimes pruning improves a tree's growth or something like that. Gardening has never been an area of interest.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is going to be hard. I love talking about myself. Baby steps. I can do it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I thought I'd scout Yahoo! for all those headline worthy news stories they put up that used to brighten up my day. I was not disappointed.&lt;a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/news/2010/03/04/2010-03-04_its_a_coverup_after_snowlady_gets_frosty_looks.html"&gt;What do you think?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Is Frostina appropriate for Wisteria or should we not make a big deal out of sexualisation of snow?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Snowmen traditionally have a shape that women don't want and therefore I wouldn't be offended if people didn't make snowwomen (even if it is adding to gender equality) either in the traditional sense or in this sense (the last thing we need is snow making us feel than perfect as well).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-5982731056463330803?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/Tn5yJydVwiU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/5982731056463330803/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=5982731056463330803" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/5982731056463330803?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/5982731056463330803?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/Tn5yJydVwiU/baby-its-cold-outside.html" title="Baby, it's cold outside" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2010/03/baby-its-cold-outside.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0EBQX0_eSp7ImA9WxBWE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-1467531622805383858</id><published>2010-02-05T14:27:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-02-05T14:50:50.341+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-05T14:50:50.341+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Emotions" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Memories" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family" /><title>In loving memory.</title><content type="html">For those of you who don’t know, my maternal grandfather passed away last week. He’d been in bed (diabetic complications, malaria attacks etc) for a few months and quite weak but I still wasn’t prepared for it. Not many people know it nor have I talked about it much, but I was extremely close to him while growing up. This week, all the old memories came flooding back and I’ve been feeling all sorts. I owe it to him and myself to tell you a bit about who he was to me. I was his first grandchild and he took it upon himself to spoil me proper.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I also did a short, less emotional &lt;a href="http://anjusabu.blogspot.com/2010/02/you-must-listen-to-me-i-am-eldest.html"&gt;post/tribute on my sketch site&lt;/a&gt;. In case this is too biographical for you (I can empathize - I'm not fond of biographies either).&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For reasons I’ll never comprehend, my grandpa believed that I was some sort of angel – he’d always play the song “angel baby” by Dean Martin and say that the song was for me. I was thinking about how children these days would have a surplus of photos of their childhood because digital cameras allow you to do that and that we missed out on that. Then I remembered the photo album after photo album that my grandpa had of us and I realised that it was so much more, somehow. He loved cameras (Nikon, in particular) and making prints was one thing he was not stingy about. I found plenty of photos of his children, and rest of the family. I have photos of me doing everything - sitting on the dog, pooping, sleeping, you name it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In his eyes, I could do no wrong and that didn’t do me any good.  He was honestly baffled as to why I needed braces or glasses. Even today, every time my mother notices one of my many flaws, she shakes her head and goes “your grandfather spoiled you”. After each of his visits, my parents would put me through some sort of detox only to have me forget all about that as soon as I saw him again. He was a senior officer in the police department when I was very small and he’d get himself posted near our town every now and then just so that he could see me. During his visits, I’d make sure I did everything my parents said I couldn’t do. They wouldn’t let me bunk school so after making diabolical plans with my thatha, as I called him, I’d go to school like a good girl. After an hour, he’d pick me up in his police jeep (none of the teachers could do anything about it because they didn’t dare object to the big officer) and we’d go hang out at the police headquarters or wherever his work was for the day. I’d catch fish near the port (that’s how my mother found out where I’d been), go to the zoo and eat our packed lunch near the lion cage or just be with him saluting back at all the policemen who saluted at him. &lt;br /&gt;
Everytime  he had to return to Madras, I was so scared that my parents would punish me for defying them that past week. So I’d pack a little bag and go sit out on the stairs and beg him to take me with him. He’d then make my mother promise him not to yell at me. Even when he was bed-ridden, my mother once pretended to yell at me about something and in his weak voice, he cried out “don’t scold anju baby”. I spent almost every summer with my grandparents. He would always come in person to pick me up at the station and he’d always bring a Cadbury’s bar, an Amul (a gift for someone you love) bar and Gems (I’m surprised I didn’t have more cavities). I slept next to my grandpa every night – he’d read me a story from one of those Ladybird books. He woke up at 4am every morning, made himself coffee and would sit and read his Bible while listening to Jim Reeves’ gospel record. As soon as I woke up a couple of hours later, he’d switch the record to Danny Kaye sings for children (or Bill Haley) and make me bournvita.  He bought me my first dog, Snoopy who picked up his mannerisms of screaming at cows that would enter our compound. He was quite the dictator to most people. Every evening, he and I would go to Cakes and Bakes and he’d have a lemon tart and I’d have black forest and strawberry ice cream. Then we’d go to Burma bazaar or somewhere. He really loved going out and he loved driving – I must’ve gotten my love for cars from him.  He took me to Egmore Wesley church every Sunday. I wasn’t social enough to enjoy Sunday school so every time the sermon got too boring, I’d sit outside and pick these strange red seeds from the ground and he’d bring me a tithe cover for me to take the seeds home.&lt;br /&gt;
He was also very tech savvy – he could figure out VCRs better than my parents. I was a tv addict back then too. He’d record all the shows I loved. Even when he went to Singapore, he programmed the VCR to record all my shows for me. He would have loved the Internet if he didn’t dislike computers so much. He'd always be the first one to wish all of us on our birthdays (via cards and the phone) - he'd actually be upset if he wasn't the first! He’d write me letters (and sometimes added a note from Snoopy) often and would draw stick figures of him catching criminals. He’d label one with a police hat as “Thatha” and one with an eye mask as “Robber” and the “Thatha” figure would be shooting the “Robber” figure. It was almost the same one each time, but I loved getting them. &lt;br /&gt;
I could go on and on and about all the memories I have but most of them have gone from being memories to a part of me that’s currently feeling a big void. I should have felt it when he became sick and quiet and different but then he was still around and that was enough. But now, my appreciation for all that he was has deepened as I acknowledge how every blessed I am to have had him – to have had someone who made me feel special and who loved me more than I deserved.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
More than anything, I wanted him to be at my wedding. He was probably one of the few people who didn’t make me feel guilty about not being married – he always firmly told people not to force me into something I wasn’t happy about. It was selfish of me to have wanted to stick around just so I’d feel better when I get married. He hated being confined to the bed – he was always out and about. For him, it was worse than being bound or caged. But something about him changed in the last few months. My grandfather, the great family dictator, became the mildest, gentlest, uncomplaining man when he was in bed. From a traditional, almost legalistic, Christian who was afraid of dying, he started to look peaceful and almost expectant. He hadn’t been to church in a long time, hadn’t been able to read the Bible or anything. All those years of reading God’s Word at 4am resurfaced and held him safe and lifted him back up. He was a lot of things…definitely not perfect but to me he was the perfect grandfather. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.&lt;/i&gt; - 2 Timothy 4:7&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ps – He was a really handsome man (one of the nicest noses ever!). I think he set my standards too high too early in life. :D He had the most startling blue eyes and I'd always ask him how come his eyes were blue and he'd say that he was from the royal family. I prefer that explanation to the cataract one. His skin was also amazingly smooth and wrinkle-free until the very end. I was so jealous. I asked him what product he used and he said that he was born that way. Then my grandma said that she used to catch him using Vicco turmeric cream. We went out and bought a tube of that this week. It probably won't work. Maybe he &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;was&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; born that way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-1467531622805383858?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/V2F-UCBFUyY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/1467531622805383858/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=1467531622805383858" title="15 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/1467531622805383858?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/1467531622805383858?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/V2F-UCBFUyY/in-loving-memory.html" title="In loving memory." /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><thr:total>15</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2010/02/in-loving-memory.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4CSXc_eCp7ImA9WxBUEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-6010023385657516621</id><published>2010-01-20T12:12:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2010-02-26T16:12:48.940+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-26T16:12:48.940+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Reviews" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="randomness" /><title>I don't have the strength to think of one</title><content type="html">Quotes from &lt;a href="http://abc.go.com/shows/cougar-town"&gt;Cougar Town&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ellie: If you don't stop with the hazelnut, I'm gonna make my own coffee&lt;br /&gt;
Jules: No you won't&lt;br /&gt;
Elie: You're right, even saying it was too much work&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Laurie: Am I in a different conversation?&lt;br /&gt;
Jules: Almost always.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One-on-one hangouts are so essential for your sanity and general well-being. I suppose some people need atleast a dozen people around all the time and that's awesome but I tend to get drained if I do that everyday for over five days. And when I get drained, I'm not nice. And when I'm not nice, people don't want to hang out with me. It's a miserable cycle. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I recently watched "The invention of lying" - pretty funny and had a nice enough message. One of those "a person's worth is on the inside" types. We also started watching "Serious moonlight" which seemed promising the minute Meg Ryan's character threw a flower pot on her husband's head and tied him up telling him he can't go anywhere until he loved her again. But then the dvd got stuck and I couldn't finish it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I officially listed out a new pet peeve today - Substituting letters like "k", "z" or d" for "c", "s" or "th". I might have mentioned this before in my dislike for shorthand but when people try and "reinvent" words by just exchanging these letters, it sort of enunciates how much society is moving towards retardation. For instance, Maggi has just launched a new pasta snack. They call it pazzta. As much as I'm curious to know how it tastes, I've been putting off buying something that's spelled that way. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We went to &lt;a href="http://www.sandys.co.in/"&gt;Sandy's&lt;/a&gt; this month. It's called the chocolate laboratory. How awesome does that sound? The next best thing to a chocolate factory. I overdosed on the fondue and have had terrible chocolate cravings all week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-6010023385657516621?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/Y2oesiUXsfo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/6010023385657516621/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=6010023385657516621" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/6010023385657516621?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/6010023385657516621?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/Y2oesiUXsfo/i-dont-have-strength-to-think-of-one.html" title="I don't have the strength to think of one" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-dont-have-strength-to-think-of-one.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQDR386cSp7ImA9WxBQEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-7023512804537673102</id><published>2010-01-11T12:32:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2010-01-11T12:32:56.119+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-11T12:32:56.119+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="State of mind" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Thoughts" /><title>Greater things are yet to come</title><content type="html">My first post of 2010 was a lyrics blog?? I must redeem myself with a worthy, insightful and intense one now. Which is why I should copy a nice post I came across. I saw this on one of LifeWay's blogs: &lt;a href="http://blogs.lifeway.com/blog/womenallaccess/2010/01/a_good_word.html"&gt;A new word for the new year&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I usually look back on the year and think of all the good things that happened and convince myself I had a good year and push aside wondering how much I'd grown that year. I've gotten into a habit of burying all the negative thoughts, situations after crying about them hoping I'd never have to face them again. I mean why think about it if it's not going to make the situation better? What if the situation will never change unless there's something you're supposed to learn about yourself through it?&lt;br /&gt;
I'd been thinking for the last couple of weeks about changing things about me, about maybe disciplining myself in some areas and about trying to find something to aim towards this year. As always, I try and fail. I forget about it, I get bored, distracted and finally discouraged. I didn't once admit to myself that maybe I don't really have all the strength it takes to reach the goals I set for myself. Every now and then I'm reminded that I'm not supposed to have all the strength it takes by myself and that all I need to do is reach out and accept God's promise of freedom and help. The problem is, sometimes, that's hard to do too. Every year, I tell myself that I must just stay at the alter and not walk out the door and no matter how many similar stories I hear, it always feels like I'm the only one who's failed. You hear people you really admire saying things like "If I could..., anyone can" and it doesn't make sense at all. It seems impossible. How is it that we are so easily convinced that we can't? We don't want to admit that we're maybe convinced to think God can't either. I'm reading this book "&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/When-Godly-People-Ungodly-Things/dp/0805424652"&gt;When Godly people do ungodly things&lt;/a&gt;" by &lt;a href="http://www.lproof.org/"&gt;Beth Moore&lt;/a&gt; and it's scary to see just how much we're faced with &lt;i&gt;because&lt;/i&gt; we're on the path to being stronger. I pray this year will be a year I'll fight back and not let my God or myself down.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I can do all things through Him who strengthens me&lt;/i&gt; - Philippians 4:13&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here's to a new year of freedom, sacrifice and love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-7023512804537673102?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/0Ly7ZaC-Sbc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/7023512804537673102/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=7023512804537673102" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/7023512804537673102?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/7023512804537673102?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/0Ly7ZaC-Sbc/greater-things-are-yet-to-come.html" title="Greater things are yet to come" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2010/01/greater-things-are-yet-to-come.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUUBQnw6cSp7ImA9WxBQEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-3518375458975167861</id><published>2010-01-10T10:36:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2010-01-11T12:30:53.219+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-11T12:30:53.219+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Lyrics" /><title>For good - from "Wicked"</title><content type="html">I haven't posted any song lyrics in a while, have I? What ever happened to gettysounds? I love the lyrics to the song "For good" from Wicked. It's very mushy and very chicken soupy but I love it. Because I'm now a wuss bag.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/S0qxXSaFFuI/AAAAAAAAC38/e-qEP1UCIbg/s1600-h/wicked-popular5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/S0qxXSaFFuI/AAAAAAAAC38/e-qEP1UCIbg/s320/wicked-popular5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;(Glinda)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I've heard it said&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;That people come into our lives for a reason&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Bringing something we must learn&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;And we are led&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;To those who help us most to grow&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;If we let them&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;And we help them in return&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Well, I don't know if I believe that's true&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;But I know I'm who I am today&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Because I knew you...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Like a comet pulled from orbit&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;As it passes a sun&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Like a stream that meets a boulder&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Halfway through the wood&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Who can say if I've been changed for the better?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;But because I knew you&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I have been changed for good&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;(Elphaba):&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;It well may be&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;That we will never meet again&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;In this lifetime&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;So let me say before we part&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;So much of me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Is made of what I learned from you&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;You'll be with me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Like a handprint on my heart&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;And now whatever way our stories end&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I know you have re-written mine&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;By being my friend...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Like a ship blown from its mooring&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;By a wind off the sea&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Like a seed dropped by a skybird&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;In a distant wood&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Who can say if I've been changed for the better?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;But because I knew you&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;(Glinda):&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Because I knew you&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;(Both):&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I have been changed for good&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;(Elphaba):&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;And just to clear the air&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I ask forgiveness&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;For the things I've done you blame me for&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;(Glinda):&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;But then, I guess we know&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;There's blame to share&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;(Both):&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;And none of it seems to matter anymore&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;(Glinda):&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Like a comet pulled from orbit&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;As it passes a sun&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Like a stream that meets a boulder&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Halfway through the wood&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;(Elphaba):&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Like a ship blown from its mooring&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;By a wind off the sea&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Like a seed dropped by a bird in the wood&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;(Both):&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Who can say if I've been&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Changed for the better?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I do believe I have been&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Changed for the better&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;(Glinda):&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;And because I knew you...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;(Elphaba):&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Because I knew you...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;(Both):&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Because I knew you...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I have been changed for good...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-3518375458975167861?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/M5SjGSzmyJc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/3518375458975167861/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=3518375458975167861" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/3518375458975167861?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/3518375458975167861?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/M5SjGSzmyJc/for-good-from-wicked.html" title="For good - from &quot;Wicked&quot;" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/S0qxXSaFFuI/AAAAAAAAC38/e-qEP1UCIbg/s72-c/wicked-popular5.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2010/01/for-good-from-wicked.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08HQ3wycCp7ImA9WxBREUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-900304946075541539</id><published>2009-12-29T17:23:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2009-12-30T10:40:32.298+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-30T10:40:32.298+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Lists" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Thoughts" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Shark" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sketches" /><title>Carry it forward</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SzrgsNnNi3I/AAAAAAAAC2s/FGjVxSK8lqo/s1600-h/newyears+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 318px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SzrgsNnNi3I/AAAAAAAAC2s/FGjVxSK8lqo/s400/newyears+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420892151666805618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lessons learned in 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Love those who love you. Work at it if you have to. Loving the ones you already love doesn't need any extra effort.&lt;br /&gt;2. If you're going to spend on impulse on your very first day on holiday, try not to spend over five hundred rupees (or the equivalent in any currency)&lt;br /&gt;3. Try not to lose your sense of judgment or forget your usual self/principles while removed from your comfort zone.&lt;br /&gt;4. If there's something that you're thankful for, make sure you appreciate every single moment that you have it.&lt;br /&gt;5. Big fancy cameras are not easily portable.&lt;br /&gt;6. Khus khus is not cous cous.&lt;br /&gt;7. Fancy touch screen windows based phones are evil. Stay away from them.&lt;br /&gt;8. Giving up tv is easier than you think.&lt;br /&gt;9. There is absolutely no way of knowing when or how you will turn into a big soft marshmallow. Don't try and fight it.&lt;br /&gt;10. Eventually all roads meet someplace from which you can get to where you need to.&lt;br /&gt;11. If you're going to buy gifts with initials on them, make sure you know all the names.&lt;br /&gt;12. Don't waste your manners on NIs. You might as well be speaking Latin.&lt;br /&gt;13. You can't be in social mode for more than 48 hours straight.&lt;br /&gt;14. You will acquire tastes for things you never thought you would.&lt;br /&gt;15. "I'll think of a reason later"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-900304946075541539?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/4spBvr38c7Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/900304946075541539/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=900304946075541539" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/900304946075541539?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/900304946075541539?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/4spBvr38c7Q/carry-it-forward.html" title="Carry it forward" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SzrgsNnNi3I/AAAAAAAAC2s/FGjVxSK8lqo/s72-c/newyears+copy.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2009/12/carry-it-forward.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUIEQnkyfCp7ImA9WxBREE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-1629900178714736780</id><published>2009-12-27T15:37:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-12-28T18:01:43.794+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-28T18:01:43.794+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Stories" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Friends" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Emotions" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sketches" /><title>Christmas will always feel like Christmas</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So, I was supposed to go home for Christmas. It was a busy week because I had to work (and finish out of office work like this Christmas sketch) until the 24th and take the last flight out. I go to the airport and the crowd is crazy. The lines to the Air India counter were unbelievable and everyone seemed to be checking in about 20 bags each (don't they check the 30kg limit?). I suddenly had a deja vu about the last time I flew Indian Airlines and they had such a huge crowd. It was a couple of years ago and they'd overbooked the plane and I was so upset because I was heading home to see my closest friend who'd come to town for a holiday. Luckily, it wasn't Christmas that time and I could take another airline and get home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Remembering that incident, I wondered if Indian Airlines had dared to make the same mistake again. There were about 200 people in queue and only 2 check-in counters open. I asked whoever I could and they said that everything was fine and that the plane was late so not to worry. I get to the counter and the girl just goes blank and asks me to see the airport manager. There are a whole bunch of people running towards the manager's room and the manager of course is nowhere to be found. In his/her place is a lady who pretends like she can't even hear the people around her. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Then people start yelling and for some reason, when I'm by myself these days, I don't get very agitated. It's only when I'm supposed to be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;responsible for other people when I go crazy if things go wrong. This is one of the reasons why I question my ability of having a family. I decide to try my usual tactic and approach the only guy at the  counter. And in my most innocent, desperate but polite voice amongst all the yelling, I ask him to help me. And he does his best to help me. When he comes back, I ask him to tell me honestly if I have a chance. He helplessly said that the airlines mucked up and that they have no right to put me on standby when I've had a confirmed ticket for weeks. I try all the other airlines and there aren't any tickets. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I witness the people at the IA ticket ofice being really rude to the passengers who got stranded. There was a priest who was inquiring about something and was asked to speak to a superior. When asked where that person was, he was told that he was in Delhi and to go ahead and speak to him. I needed a refund note and this guy signed on it. Only after I said thank you, did this other guy ask him to seal it. I wonder if just his signature would be valid enough and if people would be later told that without a seal, they can't get a refund. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This story was for people to know that Indian Airlines has messed up the chance for people to go &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;home more than once and they can't be allowed to do this anymore. It would be sad to not have an airlines called "Indian Airlines" or "Air India" when all other countries have a national airline. But if they're incompetent enough to overbook on Christmas eve, they need to maybe get jobs at a fair ground instead.  Anyway, I sit in a corner while waiting for my ride home and have a good cry and then I feel fine. I have family and friends to spend Christmas with here anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SziMjzABh_I/AAAAAAAAC2E/lCP3AN-cqKQ/s1600-h/christmas_combo+sm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SziMjzABh_I/AAAAAAAAC2E/lCP3AN-cqKQ/s400/christmas_combo+sm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420236698154010610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These last couple of years, I keep thinking that it doesn't feel like Christmas and it was sort of feeling like that when I realised that what we thought was special about Christmas are things that we gave up ourselves. Nobody seems to wait until Christmas day to open their presents. Nobody painstakingly decorates or bakes that much anymore. When all we see is Santa and his reindeer, I think Christmas gets really boring. However, what's really great about Christmas, no matter what or how boring it is, people always go out of their way to make sure you're not alone for Christmas if they find out that your plans to go home fell through. I got to see just how much Christmas &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;always&lt;/span&gt; feels like Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;I got calls from friends, the minute they heard, making sure I knew I had a place to go to if I needed to. I went to church Christmas morning (awesome message), bought some extra food and ate with grandparents and the rest of this side of the family. In the evening, I started my house visiting at a friend's place, went to a cousin's place for BIG dinner party and ended at another friend's house for pecan pie. It was a very merry Christmas after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps: I heard this quote a couple of Sundays before Christmas and it challenged me so I like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The virgin birth is posted on guard at the door of the mystery of Christmas; and none of us must think of hurrying past it. stands on the threshold of the New Testament, blatantly supernatural, defying our rationalism, informing us that all that follows belongs to the same order as itself and that if we find it offensive there is no point in proceeding further.&lt;/span&gt; –&lt;br /&gt;Donald MacLeod.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-1629900178714736780?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=FlbeBpaXBpg:nNl62cV7IoY:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=FlbeBpaXBpg:nNl62cV7IoY:F7zBnMyn0Lo"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=FlbeBpaXBpg:nNl62cV7IoY:F7zBnMyn0Lo" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=FlbeBpaXBpg:nNl62cV7IoY:V_sGLiPBpWU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=FlbeBpaXBpg:nNl62cV7IoY:V_sGLiPBpWU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=FlbeBpaXBpg:nNl62cV7IoY:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=FlbeBpaXBpg:nNl62cV7IoY:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/FlbeBpaXBpg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/1629900178714736780/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=1629900178714736780" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/1629900178714736780?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/1629900178714736780?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/FlbeBpaXBpg/christmas-will-always-feel-like.html" title="Christmas will always feel like Christmas" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SziMjzABh_I/AAAAAAAAC2E/lCP3AN-cqKQ/s72-c/christmas_combo+sm.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas-will-always-feel-like.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UERn86cSp7ImA9WxBUEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-961456887968111539</id><published>2009-12-23T14:14:00.008+05:30</published><updated>2010-02-26T16:16:47.119+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-26T16:16:47.119+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Venting" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Emotions" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Memories" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Daily rants" /><title>Get one in before the year ends!</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SzHyf99eAkI/AAAAAAAAC10/8YMpYf3VQrA/s1600-h/wall.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418378457725665858" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SzHyf99eAkI/AAAAAAAAC10/8YMpYf3VQrA/s400/wall.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 270px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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PS - Watch "Potter Puppet Pals" on Youtube.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-961456887968111539?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=pbR1-3jZA00:zlTrZNHoUDw:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=pbR1-3jZA00:zlTrZNHoUDw:F7zBnMyn0Lo"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=pbR1-3jZA00:zlTrZNHoUDw:F7zBnMyn0Lo" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=pbR1-3jZA00:zlTrZNHoUDw:V_sGLiPBpWU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=pbR1-3jZA00:zlTrZNHoUDw:V_sGLiPBpWU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=pbR1-3jZA00:zlTrZNHoUDw:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=pbR1-3jZA00:zlTrZNHoUDw:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/pbR1-3jZA00" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/961456887968111539/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=961456887968111539" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/961456887968111539?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/961456887968111539?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/pbR1-3jZA00/get-one-in-before-year-ends.html" title="Get one in before the year ends!" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SzHyf99eAkI/AAAAAAAAC10/8YMpYf3VQrA/s72-c/wall.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2009/12/get-one-in-before-year-ends.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0AHQHkzcCp7ImA9WxNTF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-1785651044317527592</id><published>2009-08-20T09:50:00.008+05:30</published><updated>2009-08-20T12:32:11.788+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-08-20T12:32:11.788+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="News" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Injustice" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Issues" /><title>News Alert! Modern day witches!</title><content type="html">I wasn't planning on writing today but here I am because I just heard a story. It was a horrible story and I had to share it. As you know, I've done plenty of posts about how women are treated badly and all the terrible things that happen all over the world. Just the other day, a friend sent me a news article about a &lt;a href="http://www.zillr.com/news/story/No-sex-no-food-law-passed-in-afghanistan"&gt;new law&lt;/a&gt; ('No sex, no food') passed in Afghanistan. Quite disgusting. I'm grateful for the laws in our country that protect women. I'm not completely partial towards women (unlike what many believe). It's just that they &lt;i&gt;do&lt;/i&gt; have a lot happening against them. I am partial towards justice though. Which brings me to today's story.&lt;div&gt;This happened to a friend of a friend but isn't an urban legend. Last evening, a young man was on his way to a wedding in Madras (say, Nelson Manikam road area). He was trying to find the way to the church so he stopped near the junction and asked a "well-groomed" girl standing there if he needed to turn left or right for the church. As soon as he stopped, the girl opened the door of his car and got in and demanded that he have sex with her. The guy freaked out and begged her to get out of his car and she told him to either pay him Rs.10,000 or have sex with her or she will claim he raped her and then she took of her top. He continued to plead with her and told her that he only had Rs.1000 and she then asked him to go to an ATM and give her all the money he has. She said that there is nothing he can do because the police would never believe him (which is true, and she could still claim rape if he chose to have sex with her instead of paying her). The boy continued to cry and beg her for about 45 minutes and finally she took the Rs.1000 and left.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm absolutely disgusted at this story. I'm furious that there is nothing the guy can do without the laws protecting women becoming compromised again. This sick girl is abusing the very laws that protect the innocent thereby making a mockery of all that women have been fighting for. I pray and hope for justice. I really hope this girl will get exposed for what she is and be locked up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the meantime, I'd just like to tell all the men to please &lt;b&gt;not&lt;/b&gt; stop and ask directions from smart looking women without locking their car doors first. Auto-rickshaw drivers might be better at giving directions and they probably won't try and rape men. Unless they're gay. Hmm, now they too have laws protecting them (Which is good...They're human too!). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, always keep your doors locked. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;ps - I only titled the post 'witches' to get people to read. My definition of a witch is totally different. :p&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-1785651044317527592?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=97slhYkr36E:WBnbgiLEOA8:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=97slhYkr36E:WBnbgiLEOA8:F7zBnMyn0Lo"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=97slhYkr36E:WBnbgiLEOA8:F7zBnMyn0Lo" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=97slhYkr36E:WBnbgiLEOA8:V_sGLiPBpWU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=97slhYkr36E:WBnbgiLEOA8:V_sGLiPBpWU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=97slhYkr36E:WBnbgiLEOA8:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=97slhYkr36E:WBnbgiLEOA8:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/97slhYkr36E" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/1785651044317527592/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=1785651044317527592" title="17 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/1785651044317527592?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/1785651044317527592?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/97slhYkr36E/news-alert-modern-day-witches.html" title="News Alert! Modern day witches!" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><thr:total>17</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2009/08/news-alert-modern-day-witches.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0IGQ3g4eSp7ImA9WxJaE0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-9118715167722146666</id><published>2009-08-04T13:55:00.007+05:30</published><updated>2009-08-04T15:22:02.631+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-08-04T15:22:02.631+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Venting" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Singlehood" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Thoughts" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="quotes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Theories" /><title>At this rate death will have done us part before we even got together!</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I need to be married or dead by my birthday!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s catastrophic almost – this shortage of equivalent types of men. Someone needs to do something! I wondered if I ought to do a SWOT analysis of this situation.  I couldn't come up with any S's or O's though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SngEkUleC-I/AAAAAAAACv0/bYLX-HC_sSI/s1600-h/Bacon_and_egg_funny_couple_costume.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 160px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SngEkUleC-I/AAAAAAAACv0/bYLX-HC_sSI/s200/Bacon_and_egg_funny_couple_costume.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366043978059615202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Threats:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Men seem to be getting married younger and younger&lt;br /&gt;2. OR men seem to be putting off marriage until their mums tell them to stop bumming around&lt;br /&gt;3. Most of them find themselves a mate in school or college. Every couple you see walking down the road look like they're in middle school. I'm curious to know what they talk about other than how chweet Ron and Hermione's romance is.&lt;br /&gt;4. Most of the mates they find are sweet little things that look like they'd break if they were left alone for two seconds or made to carry their own popcorn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Girls have an unfair advantage over men: if they can't get what they want by being smart, they can get it by being dumb".  &lt;/span&gt;- Yul Brynner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;How can a woman be expected to be happy with a man who insists on treating her as if she were a perfectly normal human being&lt;/span&gt;.”  - Oscar Wilde&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Weaknesses:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I'm quite content in life and therefore to shift from this state of inertia would take a real force of nature.&lt;br /&gt;2. Nobody seems to fit the bill for that force of nature. Is it me or them? Must be me. But to change would take a bigger force of nature.&lt;br /&gt;3. I cannot be a helpless fluttery kind of girl who says things like "cho chweet" no matter how much guys seem to prefer that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've put up this quote before but I thought it'd be appropriate:&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A good man doesn't just happen.  They have to be created by us women.  A guy is a lump, like a doughnut.  So first you gotta get rid of all the stuff his mom did to him.  And then you gotta get rid of all that macho crap they pick up from beer commercials.  And then there's my personal favorite...the male ego&lt;/span&gt;". - Roseanne Barr&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what's my conclusion? Find Frankenstein's lab book. Or pray really hard for a miracle. Death or a wedding, whichever is easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS - Oh, I just found this one:&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The older theory was, marry an older man because they're more mature.  But the new theory is men don't mature.  Marry a younger one&lt;/span&gt;". - Rita Rudner&lt;br /&gt;That means I'm totally justified in the whole Prince William situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PPS - I'm not really in an emo/kill-me-now state of mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone sent me &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QujA8YYgTWU&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;this video&lt;/a&gt;. It's so adorable. I couldn't stop smiling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-9118715167722146666?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=FL5rwqlp-3o:5W7KgG9XLTA:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=FL5rwqlp-3o:5W7KgG9XLTA:F7zBnMyn0Lo"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=FL5rwqlp-3o:5W7KgG9XLTA:F7zBnMyn0Lo" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=FL5rwqlp-3o:5W7KgG9XLTA:V_sGLiPBpWU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=FL5rwqlp-3o:5W7KgG9XLTA:V_sGLiPBpWU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=FL5rwqlp-3o:5W7KgG9XLTA:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=FL5rwqlp-3o:5W7KgG9XLTA:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/FL5rwqlp-3o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/9118715167722146666/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=9118715167722146666" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/9118715167722146666?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/9118715167722146666?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/FL5rwqlp-3o/at-this-rate-death-will-have-done-us.html" title="At this rate death will have done us part before we even got together!" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SngEkUleC-I/AAAAAAAACv0/bYLX-HC_sSI/s72-c/Bacon_and_egg_funny_couple_costume.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2009/08/at-this-rate-death-will-have-done-us.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0YDQ3k_fCp7ImA9WxJaE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-792678648105047219</id><published>2009-08-03T18:29:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-08-03T18:42:52.744+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-08-03T18:42:52.744+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Stories" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Memories" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Theories" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="randomness" /><title>Inherited brain powers</title><content type="html">I hope there's a special place in hell for the people who create computer viruses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some crazy viruses floating around. I don't understand the psyche of those who sit around creating something that would destroy something valuable to someone they don't even know. In my family, we like talking about all the crazy people out there who make us seem sane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandmother loves to talk. On a good day, she’ll ramble off stories about her childhood and life in some small town her father was transferred to where he’d be the local doctor. Life was good in those days, she said. Every Sunday was wash day when they’d be oiled up and scrubbed down. And the house will be full of home made goodies. It’s a rarity to find good home made stuff like munthrikothu, athirasam, kokkoos and stuff. It would be a shame if people stopped making them altogether. They’re painstaking but they are good and wholesome! (I'll try and put up pictures of some of these things)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandmother told me a interesting quip – we were discussing how old people need to do something to keep their minds active so that they don’t get bored, depressed or dull. She told me how the old women in town used to mix up bags of rice, lentils and other grains and then sit around the table, chatting and separating them. What a simple and yet effective puzzle when they didn’t have the means to get one of those complex things those people demonstrate at the malls, guaranteed to strengthen your brain power.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of brain power, she asked me why people speak really loudly on their cell phones in public. Then she came up with a really good explanation. I don't know where she gets them, but she always reads those weird news articles that make people paranoid about everything. She told me that she read somewhere that too much mobile phone usage affects the brain (and I mustn't use it so much), therefore, these people who talk constantly must have had their brain cells die and therefore they get worse when it comes to public etiquette. Is that why they call it a cell phone? &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Kill your brain cells. Talk more. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my grandma's memories is also one that I share because I used to visit them every summer while I was growing up. She recalled the days when we could hear the trains arriving at Chetpet station, the bugles at the police camp and, this was before my time, the mental patients in the mental hospital down the road. My grandmother can be morbid and doesn’t waste her time with political correctness either. That’s probably why it’s fun to hear her speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps - Speaking of brain dead ideas, have you seen the new Idea mobile ads? "Walk while you talk"?? Are they insane? Do they really want the morons here to walk on the roads while talking on their mobiles? I think this must be another one of the population control methods. You know, killing off the idiots one by one using their own stupidity. We have loads of such population control methods here. Like why the roads are never fixed and potholes never covered or helmets and seat belts never enforced. Makes sense doesn't it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-792678648105047219?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/7j3iS_ygwqQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/792678648105047219/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=792678648105047219" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/792678648105047219?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/792678648105047219?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/7j3iS_ygwqQ/inherited-brain-powers.html" title="Inherited brain powers" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><thr:total>6</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2009/08/inherited-brain-powers.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0EGSHY8eyp7ImA9WxBUEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-7308611134261566987</id><published>2009-08-03T17:59:00.015+05:30</published><updated>2010-02-26T16:23:49.873+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-26T16:23:49.873+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Reviews" /><title>Movie reviews: July 2009</title><content type="html">Quotes from "Better off Ted".&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ted: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;With the public's trust at stake, we all gave depositions. Veronica had done it before and so knew just what to say... or how little to say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Female Lawyer: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Were you involved in the development of this product?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Veronica: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Female Lawyer: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And how would you summarize the company's reaction when they found out that the women who used this product were savagely attacked by insects?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Veronica: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ouch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Female Lawyer: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Will you elaborate on that, please?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Veronica: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;No.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Female Lawyer: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Can you describe your job?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Veronica: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Female Lawyer: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;How would you describe your job?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Veronica: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cleverly&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SnfvWv11gmI/AAAAAAAACvs/Ow9SVvhp5HU/s1600-h/harrypotter6dracoposter.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="200" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366020655113667170" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SnfvWv11gmI/AAAAAAAACvs/Ow9SVvhp5HU/s200/harrypotter6dracoposter.jpg" style="float: right; height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 216px;" width="135" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"The Hangover" was actually really funny. I went expecting one of those usual dick flicks but it took me by surprise. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Harry Potter and the half-blood prince" - I couldn't remember the book much but it was fun to watch. The theatre went insane when Hermione came on screen. It was a little perverse.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"“Love and other disasters” - This was a very atypical romantic comedy which didn’t have the kind of ending I usually like. In fact, it was the kind of message that would under usual circumastances depress me. But I wouldn’t have had it any other way. The movie shattered my idea of love but still left me feeling good. That’s the funny thing about love – we all have illusions of grandeur about it and yet the reality of it is grander than all of those.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Star Trek” - I absolutely loved it. I thought it did justice to the original series. The cast was awesome. If I ever start watching “Heroes” after this, I’m going to be rooting for Sylar. Strangely, Chris Pine actually looked like William Shatner when he played Captain Kirk. I ended up wondering if that meant that Chris Pine would end up looking like William Shatner looks now. Well, I guess then he can play Denny Crane when they do a remake of "Boston Legal".&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SnfoKUUYk9I/AAAAAAAACvU/n412Zzk5XwU/s1600-h/startrek-past-and-present.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366012744985777106" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SnfoKUUYk9I/AAAAAAAACvU/n412Zzk5XwU/s400/startrek-past-and-present.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 179px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen" - It was fabulous (yes, I cried when that thing happened but I knew he would be back. Gospel link). It was a bit too long though; they could have shortened it by atleast 20 minutes if they'd left out all the mushiness. Or kept it as long and replaced it with more Transformers bits. I saw this one poster that had the caption "More alien robots, bigger explosions and much more Megan Fox". Was that the point of making a part two? They should have said starring Megan Fox, featuring the Transformers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-7308611134261566987?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/kSF2TwVegLM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/7308611134261566987/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=7308611134261566987" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/7308611134261566987?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/7308611134261566987?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/kSF2TwVegLM/more-movie-reviews-july-2009.html" title="Movie reviews: July 2009" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SnfvWv11gmI/AAAAAAAACvs/Ow9SVvhp5HU/s72-c/harrypotter6dracoposter.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2009/08/more-movie-reviews-july-2009.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0EMQ3c7fip7ImA9WxBUEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-8548933977548575273</id><published>2009-08-03T17:28:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2010-02-26T16:24:42.906+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-26T16:24:42.906+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Stories" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="quotes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Travel" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Daily rants" /><title>Journeys of the moment</title><content type="html">Here's an ironic quote:&lt;br /&gt;
"Wanting to be someone else is a waste of the person you are." - Kurt Cobain&lt;br /&gt;
And I suppose suicide isn't a waste of the person one is.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anyway, I was on the train a couple of weeks ago and my aunt was traveling with me. We weren't in the same coach and she wanted to see if we could move around and get seats next to each other. I wasn't too keen on moving because the people next to me were soooo interesting. They weren't talking to me but they'd just met and they were exchanging stories. There were three elderly men and one of them was obviously really good at starting conversations and asking questions. When I got in, he'd just gotten one of them to talk and that old man was telling everyone how he was a freedom fighter and all the things that he did. The third old man was one of the most ordinary looking men I'd ever seen - he'd fit right in a parota making shop in Nagercoil. And then he started his story. About forty years ago, he was a young carpenter who'd just gotten into a good arts college and creating wood works. A Spanish couple loved his work and took him to Spain where he worked as a carpenter for all these years. He met and "got together" with a Spanish woman with whom he has two sons both of whom are well settled in life.&lt;br /&gt;
When he said this everyone in that compartment had to keep their eyes from popping out.  I tried my best to look like I wasn't listening but I'd be a deadlife not to! So the conversation starter asked him, "so, you have a Spanish wife?" and the guy's like "oh no, who gets married in places like that? we just slept together". And everyone just laughed and was having a jolly good time. Then they got to the part where they asked if his family here have met his Spanish family and as he was getting to that bit, my aunt found me and told me that she's found us seats together elsewhere and she took me away from the soap opera! What luck! But even the little I heard resonated inside of me... about how the most ordinary of people can have extraordinary stories. And everyone has a story. I'm sure that the old man would have asked me mine if I'd stuck around but mine's nowhere near as full, rich or entertaining as the ones I'd heard.&lt;br /&gt;
I usually get on a train, open my book and put on my headphones. This was the first journey in a long long time that I hadn't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-8548933977548575273?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/OsukqrZdV_A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/8548933977548575273/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=8548933977548575273" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/8548933977548575273?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/8548933977548575273?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/OsukqrZdV_A/journeys-of-moment.html" title="Journeys of the moment" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2009/08/journeys-of-moment.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQNR349cCp7ImA9WxJXF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-8442552505118418411</id><published>2009-06-09T11:55:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-11T12:26:36.068+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-06-11T12:26:36.068+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="State of mind" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Emotions" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="quotes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Shark" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Daily rants" /><title>Wine-taste the moment</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SjCqNJ-O3PI/AAAAAAAACr8/yVT5h3Hlrbg/s1600-h/drinks+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 255px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SjCqNJ-O3PI/AAAAAAAACr8/yVT5h3Hlrbg/s400/drinks+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345959900680740082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It’s one of those days when you feel like you made a mistake at every crossroad of your life. Stupid crossroads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I realize that I haevn’t written in ages. In a Funk? Down in the dumps? Muse on vacation? I don’t know. I was wondering why I was feeling like I was stuck in a place I didn’t want to be and started reminiscing and regretting all the path choices I’d made that got me here. Then I realized that one of the reasons I get annoyed and stuck in a rut could be because I’d forgotten what I’m passionate about. My blog used to be all about things I was passionate about. Both my loves and my hates. I couldn’t let myself down by letting my passions die out! I haven’t even checked out the crazy headlines on yahoo! in ages! I do remember one that made me laugh out loud – it was about Shah Rukh Khan applauding for another actor who’s supposed to be his rival. Oh gosh, stop the presses indeed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were at this family-friends gathering in one of the hill houses recently and it wasn't my usual comfort zone but the kids were playing cards so I sat down and played a few games and had fun. I was surprised that it was natural. So my aunt told me a story about how, several years ago, we were at a place like that and some of us wanted to drive back early because of some tv show (surprise surprise). On the way down, we had a flat tire and then we had to spend our time in the dark fixing it. She said that I was perfectly cool and un-irritated by the situation and she was saying how that's a good trait. Now, that surprised me because it sounded so out of character for me now. Then I wondered if maybe I was out of character now. I always thought that I used to be impatient, annoyed and angry as a teenager but maybe in reality I'm still all of those things in some way every now and then. I guess it's because when a passion I have for something dies out, I tend to forget it ever happened - tend to forget that it ever affected me and who I am. Once in a while, I'm brought face to face with things that remind me of recent past events that I'd locked away as soon as they were over (I have no trouble conjuring up the past. It's the recent past that I have trouble with). And everytime I'm made to  recall a particular phase/happening,  I wonder what else I might have forgotten and why. The reason things seem dull is because I'm probably not bothering/being involved too much in things happening all around me and I fool myself into thinking that nothing's happening! To be cliché about it and use phrases like "taste the moment" or "live for the moment", let me add my own. Maybe one ought to wine-taste the moment? Savour it while you can and get the full flavour - then you can either spit it out or enjoy it further.  Because sometimes you get only a sip and then the bottle's gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The path of the river may not be as we would have liked, altered and thwarted by many a rock and tree. But it is as it should flow, helping all in its path to flourish. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sketchbook link: &lt;a href="http://anjusabu.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-couldnt-help-it.html"&gt;Drinks like a fish and leaves&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ps - I'm not an alcoholic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-8442552505118418411?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=Xlpf8-aBkvU:fBIZWFT4kxo:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=Xlpf8-aBkvU:fBIZWFT4kxo:F7zBnMyn0Lo"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=Xlpf8-aBkvU:fBIZWFT4kxo:F7zBnMyn0Lo" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=Xlpf8-aBkvU:fBIZWFT4kxo:V_sGLiPBpWU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=Xlpf8-aBkvU:fBIZWFT4kxo:V_sGLiPBpWU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=Xlpf8-aBkvU:fBIZWFT4kxo:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=Xlpf8-aBkvU:fBIZWFT4kxo:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/Xlpf8-aBkvU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/8442552505118418411/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=8442552505118418411" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/8442552505118418411?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/8442552505118418411?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/Xlpf8-aBkvU/wine-taste-moment.html" title="Wine-taste the moment" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SjCqNJ-O3PI/AAAAAAAACr8/yVT5h3Hlrbg/s72-c/drinks+copy.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2009/06/wine-taste-moment.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8GRX47fip7ImA9WxJXF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-3091568305940980389</id><published>2009-06-01T11:28:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-11T11:43:44.006+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-06-11T11:43:44.006+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Reviews" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Friends" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Food" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Shark" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sketches" /><title>You can always go Downtown (To Sparky's)</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SjCeypFMDUI/AAAAAAAACr0/oKeKhPvJ18U/s1600-h/sparkys+copy_sm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 291px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SjCeypFMDUI/AAAAAAAACr0/oKeKhPvJ18U/s400/sparkys+copy_sm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345947350547041602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many people have that special hangout place where they can sit around for hours and talk loudly without getting thrown out. Like Pop Tate’s diner or Central Perk. I have Sparky’s. It’s probably the place for most of the people I know and it's probably the only restaurant I have spent the most time.&lt;br /&gt;We recently had a fun cousin reunion/gathering there. My cousin was apparently in need of a Sparky's fix (and that's saying a lot because she lives in Singapore!), and we needed the ambiance and the fact that it’s so familiar that we needn’t be conscious of our over excited conversations. It made me realize that every time a group of us wanted to do nothing somewhere, that was the place we went to. We’re lucky Thom likes having people there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had a huge buffet for Cinco de Mayo on the 5th of May. It was a lot of fun. We randomly booked a table, unsure of how many of us would finally make it. One of the advantages of such evenings is that you’ll always find people you know who’ll sit at your table and probably do rotas of various tables. I must say that my tamale experience wasn’t as hot as I expected. But the Mexican pizza was really good – I’m trying to get them to add it to the regular menu. And of course, I enjoyed the do-it-yourself wraps/fajitas/burritos. There are probably many other places that have continental/western food but I don’t think they serve sarcasm which once you get used to, is hard to do without.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, while I’m publicizing Sparky’s,  I must mention the Easter brunch that I went for on.. Easter. Yes, I’m terribly late! There was this Kahlua mousse that was by itself worth the whole brunch. I was eating with a couple of friends who kind of picked at their food so I felt kind of bad to pig out. So, I waited for them to leave and went to the back area of the restaurant and ate some of the stuff I liked with some of the Sparky’s people who were hanging out there. That’s one of the extremely cool things about it. People who like food are kept happy :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sketchbook link: &lt;a href="http://anjusabu.blogspot.com/2009/05/hows-your-chimichanga-it-is-fun-to-say.html"&gt;How's your chimichanga?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-3091568305940980389?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/5bv4Y_cLlJU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/3091568305940980389/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=3091568305940980389" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/3091568305940980389?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/3091568305940980389?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/5bv4Y_cLlJU/you-can-always-go-downtown-to-sparkys.html" title="You can always go Downtown (To Sparky's)" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SjCeypFMDUI/AAAAAAAACr0/oKeKhPvJ18U/s72-c/sparkys+copy_sm.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2009/06/you-can-always-go-downtown-to-sparkys.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0IGR3w6cSp7ImA9WxJXF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-8862405848014804440</id><published>2009-05-30T11:47:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-11T11:55:26.219+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-06-11T11:55:26.219+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="India" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="News" /><title>Thank goodness they have symbols also!</title><content type="html">This should have been posted, like, almost one month ago. It's old, blah news now. But I need to log it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I voted on 13th May 2009. I had to travel home to do that because my name is registered there. It hardly took 5 minutes to vote because there wasn’t anyone at the booth at the time we were. So I got to spend the rest of the time being home. Even if it was for a few hours.&lt;br /&gt;I’m not some big patriot or someone who’s ever taken civic duty seriously. In fact, civics was my least favourite subject in school. I hated it so much. No, politics isn’t my cup of tea. But I guess I felt like I must exercise my rights  because the next generation will need good role models :D Besides, if I don’t vote, it’s quite possible that my vote will be misused. In fact, when I got back to work, I found out that many people went to vote and found that their names weren’t in the lists. Ridiculous or no reason given. And then there were rumours that the ballot machines were rigged so that any button pushed would get counted towards a particular party. Yes, all that sucks. But at the end of it, the best of the lot won. We are to have a secular government. Thank God for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of big, unexpected wins. Kris Allen beat Adam Lambert and became the new American Idol. He’s kind of sweet looking and doesn’t have that cocky attitude (or overtly made up skin). I liked his &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gPq89bdOT4s"&gt;duet with Keith Urban&lt;/a&gt;. Country gets me everytime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-8862405848014804440?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/69QEPsJ_hGg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/8862405848014804440/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=8862405848014804440" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/8862405848014804440?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/8862405848014804440?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/69QEPsJ_hGg/thank-goodness-they-have-symbols-also.html" title="Thank goodness they have symbols also!" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2009/05/thank-goodness-they-have-symbols-also.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0ANQXg7fip7ImA9WxJXF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-8313185531957407303</id><published>2009-05-01T10:23:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-11T11:59:50.606+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-06-11T11:59:50.606+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Philosophy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Thoughts" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="quotes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Shark" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sarcasm" /><title>Swine flu. Whatever.</title><content type="html">Since we need medical drama also in life, epidemics come by every now and then. Currently, everyone's worried about the swine flu. When I was studying abroad, there was the outbreak of SARS. I remember my flatmate returning from China and she looked like a freaking zombie because she had been on a very long flight. I was so paranoid that it was that disease everyone was talking about. Anyway, we still haven't had any cases of swine flu here. Maybe because we're so used to bugs that they don't bother us anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Maybe swine flu comes from stupid piggy men. &lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330843765699060786" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 194px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/Sfr2KS-ZJDI/AAAAAAAACgo/fcGByk0Ecwg/s320/swineflu1_sm.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was having a conversation with someone the other day about some random people. Apparently, some girl is involved with a very hot young man who has about three other girlfriends. It's quite obvious the way he treats/ makes up stories her that he's a player/jerk/piggy man. But that's not the astonishing bit. The truly bizarre part of the story is that the girl has so much trust in him and it would be pointless trying to expose him. And it's not like she has any reason to be a desperate soul. Why do women who have it all, throw it all away for jerks? It's so common that one would think that there must be a logical explanation. Someone you're dating tells you not to present yourself on his facebook, shouldn't you question that? It's not like he's batman and his enemies will destroy all his loved ones. Or else he tells you that you can't come to his house today because he's, um, cleaning... The problem is that when you kind of really like someone for no reason, then reason disappears completely and you keep liking them because you can't think of anything better to do. I just wish people wouldn't treat those who trust them like disposable waste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If you believe that you're here in this world for a reason, let the reason be love&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend of mine was in one of those "life's purpose" moods so I, in all my wisdom, gave her that line. She replied with "yuck". I'm so lucky that I have friends who respond to mush in that manner. This way, I'd never have to say sappy things to them to let them know how much they mean to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe "yuck" could be a new philosophy. "Whatever" is another popular one. It can apply to any situation. We have a dog named Coal. He's kind of a retard. I mentioned him in a chat session with my sister and she's like:&lt;br /&gt;"You mean Cole?"&lt;br /&gt;"What? I thought his name is Coal"&lt;br /&gt;"No, it's Cole"&lt;br /&gt;"Didn't you name him Coal because he was black?"&lt;br /&gt;"Oh. Whatever"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sketchbook link: &lt;a href="http://anjusabu.blogspot.com/2009/05/best-cure.html"&gt;The Best Cure&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-8313185531957407303?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=DLtv83AyGw0:ppyWjVUfc-Q:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=DLtv83AyGw0:ppyWjVUfc-Q:F7zBnMyn0Lo"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=DLtv83AyGw0:ppyWjVUfc-Q:F7zBnMyn0Lo" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=DLtv83AyGw0:ppyWjVUfc-Q:V_sGLiPBpWU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=DLtv83AyGw0:ppyWjVUfc-Q:V_sGLiPBpWU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=DLtv83AyGw0:ppyWjVUfc-Q:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=DLtv83AyGw0:ppyWjVUfc-Q:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/DLtv83AyGw0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/8313185531957407303/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=8313185531957407303" title="10 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/8313185531957407303?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/8313185531957407303?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/DLtv83AyGw0/swine-flu-whatever.html" title="Swine flu. Whatever." /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/Sfr2KS-ZJDI/AAAAAAAACgo/fcGByk0Ecwg/s72-c/swineflu1_sm.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>10</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2009/05/swine-flu-whatever.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkMBQng-fip7ImA9WxJSEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-2470485788941154880</id><published>2009-05-01T09:49:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-05-01T18:57:33.656+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-01T18:57:33.656+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="India" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="News" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sarcasm" /><title>"When I change, India changes."</title><content type="html">I always thought that when you voted, they stamped your index finger with the black spot. Do people honestly think it's cool to request it on their middle finger instead? These people are basically giving everyone the finger and getting applauded for it. A bit disrespectful of the right to vote, don't you think? &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330845540321118642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 367px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/Sfr3xl9QybI/AAAAAAAACgw/KyBml8sQdY0/s400/scan0002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yes, very cool. I'm a huge fan now.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-2470485788941154880?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=-cA3HB6DnHo:-jZhrD-rHxQ:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=-cA3HB6DnHo:-jZhrD-rHxQ:F7zBnMyn0Lo"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=-cA3HB6DnHo:-jZhrD-rHxQ:F7zBnMyn0Lo" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=-cA3HB6DnHo:-jZhrD-rHxQ:V_sGLiPBpWU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=-cA3HB6DnHo:-jZhrD-rHxQ:V_sGLiPBpWU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=-cA3HB6DnHo:-jZhrD-rHxQ:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=-cA3HB6DnHo:-jZhrD-rHxQ:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/-cA3HB6DnHo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/2470485788941154880/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=2470485788941154880" title="10 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/2470485788941154880?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/2470485788941154880?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/-cA3HB6DnHo/when-i-change-india-changes.html" title="&quot;When I change, India changes.&quot;" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/Sfr3xl9QybI/AAAAAAAACgw/KyBml8sQdY0/s72-c/scan0002.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>10</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2009/05/when-i-change-india-changes.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0AARnw7eyp7ImA9WxBUEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-3115784779369313596</id><published>2009-04-30T11:03:00.006+05:30</published><updated>2010-02-26T16:25:47.203+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-26T16:25:47.203+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Fun" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="humor" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sarcasm" /><title>How long can one be squeaky clean?</title><content type="html">If Hugh Hefner can be admired in spite of owning an enterprise that many women find demeaning, then shouldn't everyone be entitled to say something that could be offensive to someone and not be condemned too much?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Would the following passages be too offensive? If yes, then I'm just being one of those admirable rebels okay?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why do some gay people take offense at so many things? I read that many gay people protested the movie "Basic Instinct". Does that mean only straight people can form obsessions that lead to murder? Why can't straight people take offense at every other murder movie then?&lt;br /&gt;
I saw that &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=klT0aSRTuDQ"&gt;video&lt;/a&gt; of Miss California and her opinion of marriage and how "celebrity judge" Perez Hilton made sure she didn't win the contest. Now, that's just wrong on so many levels. First of all, she was giving them her opinion which was what was asked. Secondly, "Perez Hilton" being gay, should not have asked a question like "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;In your opinion&lt;/span&gt;, should marriage be between a man and a woman?". Thirdly, how did "Perez Hilton" become a celebrity judge?? He's an obnoxious and mean person who called her a b*tch and said he wasn't sorry. I thought gay people were supposed to be fun, sensitive and sweet. His real name is Mario Armando Lavandeira Jr. - no wonder he's gay.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SflJPW3jmjI/AAAAAAAACgY/NgiZy7ZjCYw/s1600-h/2980-David_Cassidy1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330372162155158066" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SflJPW3jmjI/AAAAAAAACgY/NgiZy7ZjCYw/s320/2980-David_Cassidy1.jpg" style="float: right; height: 200px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 200px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I was reading David Cassidy's &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Could-Be-Forever-My-Story/dp/0755315804/ref=ed_oe_p"&gt;biography&lt;/a&gt; in which he spoke of his admiration for Hef. The Biography was kind of sad because it was one those Hollywood stories where a young idol shoots to fame, has everything he wants and yet cry cry cries in his lonely heart. Some of the groupie and drug stories were sick to read about because we actually do like to believe that sweet looking teen idols are squeaky clean.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-3115784779369313596?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/Dp1kljB7RaA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/3115784779369313596/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=3115784779369313596" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/3115784779369313596?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/3115784779369313596?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/Dp1kljB7RaA/how-long-can-one-be-squeaky-clean.html" title="How long can one be squeaky clean?" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SflJPW3jmjI/AAAAAAAACgY/NgiZy7ZjCYw/s72-c/2980-David_Cassidy1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2009/04/how-long-can-one-be-squeaky-clean.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkANQX49fip7ImA9WxBQEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-6681221780633511480</id><published>2009-04-29T10:52:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2010-01-11T10:09:50.066+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-11T10:09:50.066+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Publicity" /><title>New "local" online bookstore!</title><content type="html">I tried out this website &lt;a href="http://www.flipkart.com/"&gt;flipkart.com&lt;/a&gt; to order some books and I was thoroughly impressed because my book arrived in a box with the flipkart logo all over like it does from Amazon.com! Also, they included an order slip with the enclosed book highlighted. What's even better is that they have books that aren't really available in the local bookstores so I'm kind of going crazy hanging out at flipkart these days.&lt;br /&gt;It's a startup company so I hope they keep up their standards - India needs its own Amazon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps - shipping is free!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-6681221780633511480?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/PcxZ2HO758E" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/6681221780633511480/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=6681221780633511480" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/6681221780633511480?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/6681221780633511480?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/PcxZ2HO758E/new-local-online-bookstore.html" title="New &quot;local&quot; online bookstore!" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><thr:total>7</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2009/04/new-local-online-bookstore.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08AQnY6fSp7ImA9WxJSEEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-3129987395271191268</id><published>2009-04-28T11:56:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-30T10:00:43.815+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-30T10:00:43.815+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="India" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Thoughts" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Culture" /><title>Hit this ball with that bat and you can become a god?</title><content type="html">I was at Landmark yesterday and there was some sort of thing happening there. At first, I thought it was some book reading but then I realised they were discussing the IPL cricket match. I'm like, this is a book store. How would you like it if we had a book reading at one of your matches? I tried to ignore them and browse but then something that guy said caught my attention. I think he was a player in one of the teams. He was speaking about how they referred to Sachin Tendulkar as 'god'. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cricket is a religion and Sachin is 'god'&lt;/span&gt;. Are you kidding me? I was stunned for a moment because earlier that day my colleague was telling me about the madness that is cricket and the poorly affected that is the Indian people are being exploited in this huge gambling scene that is the IPL. And here I was listening to them make it out to be much more. Here was a young man, like millions of others, elevating another man to the status of a god. No wonder we're a messed up nation. Our search for divinity and meaning and the need to worship something, anything has driven us to all sorts of ridiculous fill-ins. Must everything be either ignored or idolized?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read an article yesterday about the extent to which 'holy men' have exploited people. It's fine if they're just in it for the money. After all, a fool and his money are soon parted. But when it involves sex, rape and incest, then that's just gross. They're insulting the very nature of holiness. You can't worship something that isn't holy. Plain and simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone I know is struggling with an in-law problem. I've noticed that the pattern for crazy mother-in-laws is if she either has an only son or sons and atleast one daughter. Either she's over possessive about her precious boy or she doesn't want a substitute daughter to have as much if not more than her real daughter. So anyway, this particular mother-in-law has some insane thoughts about adopted children (her children adopted a child). Apparently, the mother cannot hold her child when she's in her cycle. So when she was questioned as to what she did when she had children, she replied that she could hold them because she's their real mother. Don't people like that just make you want to vomit? Maybe she should take some adoption lessons from Angelina Jolie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ps - I must admit that the one thing I do like about that IPL cricket thing is some of their logos. I especially love the Chennai Kings one, Knight Riders, Dare Devils and the Mumbai Indians' logos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-3129987395271191268?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/xbQvXRGezXw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/3129987395271191268/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=3129987395271191268" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/3129987395271191268?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/3129987395271191268?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/xbQvXRGezXw/hit-this-ball-with-that-bat-and-you-can.html" title="Hit this ball with that bat and you can become a god?" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2009/04/hit-this-ball-with-that-bat-and-you-can.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEAMSX89eip7ImA9WxBSFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-4904993619952590012</id><published>2009-04-27T15:53:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2009-12-23T16:43:08.162+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-23T16:43:08.162+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Memories" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="quotes" /><title>For Beatrice Arthur</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SfWRultmvPI/AAAAAAAACa4/RhoTsTm4y5k/s1600-h/beaarthur.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 144px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SfWRultmvPI/AAAAAAAACa4/RhoTsTm4y5k/s200/beaarthur.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329325963646254322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's so weird. I just mentioned Bea Arthur in a post. She died the day before yesterday. She really was a wonderful actress with an awesome sense of humor. "The Golden Girls" had some great lines and everyone was perfect for their role. This one's for Beatrice Arthur. Thank you for the laughs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Rose Nylund:&lt;/span&gt; Can I ask a dumb question?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dorothy Petrillo-Zbornak:&lt;/span&gt; Better than anybody I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Blanche:&lt;/span&gt; I still haven't lost my hour glass figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dorothy:&lt;/span&gt; It seems as if someone added 90 minutes of extra sand in the glass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dorothy:&lt;/span&gt; [to Sophia] You're a furry little gnome and we feed you too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Dorothy is carrying a pizza box into the kitchen)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Rose:&lt;/span&gt; Whats for dinner Dorothy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dorothy:&lt;/span&gt; A bucket of Chicken Rose, I hope you like it extra flat and crispy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sophia:&lt;/span&gt; No offense, pussycat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dorothy:&lt;/span&gt; None taken, you cankerous little prune!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Blanche:&lt;/span&gt; The Great Herring War?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Rose:&lt;/span&gt; Between the Lindstroms and the Johannsens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dorothy:&lt;/span&gt; Oh, THAT Great Herring War.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dorothy:&lt;/span&gt; You'll have to excuse my mother. She suffered a slight stroke a few years ago which rendered her totally annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dorothy:&lt;/span&gt; When a 22-year-old girl marries a man who's 80, chances are she is not &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SfWRiSJextI/AAAAAAAACaw/yEXXIowVLzQ/s1600-h/The-Golden-Girls-Photograph-C10104683.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 162px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SfWRiSJextI/AAAAAAAACaw/yEXXIowVLzQ/s200/The-Golden-Girls-Photograph-C10104683.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329325752236033746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;after his body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dorothy:&lt;/span&gt; [to her ex husband] Stanley, you are truly one chromosome away from being a potato!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Blanche:&lt;/span&gt; [enters covered in flour] They took my jewels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dorothy:&lt;/span&gt; But I see they didn't take your cocaine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dorothy:&lt;/span&gt; Get back here you deceitful little sicilian gecco!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sophia:&lt;/span&gt; I wuv you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dorothy:&lt;/span&gt; Too wittle too wate!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Blanche:&lt;/span&gt; This is strictly off the record, but Dirk is nearly five years younger than I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dorothy:&lt;/span&gt; In what, Blanche, dog years?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-4904993619952590012?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=Vr66vipNZI4:QCzHGGLuJsU:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=Vr66vipNZI4:QCzHGGLuJsU:F7zBnMyn0Lo"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=Vr66vipNZI4:QCzHGGLuJsU:F7zBnMyn0Lo" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=Vr66vipNZI4:QCzHGGLuJsU:V_sGLiPBpWU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=Vr66vipNZI4:QCzHGGLuJsU:V_sGLiPBpWU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?a=Vr66vipNZI4:QCzHGGLuJsU:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/LostInWonder?i=Vr66vipNZI4:QCzHGGLuJsU:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/Vr66vipNZI4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/4904993619952590012/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=4904993619952590012" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/4904993619952590012?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/4904993619952590012?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/Vr66vipNZI4/for-beatrice-arthur.html" title="For Beatrice Arthur" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SfWRultmvPI/AAAAAAAACa4/RhoTsTm4y5k/s72-c/beaarthur.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2009/04/for-beatrice-arthur.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkAEQn0_eyp7ImA9WxJTGE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27033892.post-3518335959962883088</id><published>2009-04-27T12:06:00.014+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-27T15:01:43.343+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-27T15:01:43.343+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Reviews" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Thoughts" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sarcasm" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Daily rants" /><title>Confessions of a Material Girl</title><content type="html">I had a nice self-absorbed weekend. I watched "Confessions of a shopaholic" on Saturday [Movie titles that begin with "Confessions of" always sound interesting for some reason. One just needs to end the phrase with something weirdly relevant like "material girl" or "wedding planner"]. I really liked it because it was a typical, not-too-sappy-and-annoying chick flick. I also liked it because it didn't have many of the sporadic, unbearably ridiculous spending the book version contained. I don't know why, but those just made me cringe. I'm not the most sensible shopper and I do go crazy every now and then but reading the book did make me feel like shaking her every now and then. I can't remember the book enough to make a comparison but I do know that it's extremely different. I must admit that when she threw the scarf under that table, all I could think of was "oh my gosh, go get the scarf, it cost a hundred dollars, what if someone else takes it..". That's a normal reaction, right? Or am I truly into the material?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An idol is something man-made or organisation-made, most often a replica of something that exists in the real world or a figment of one's imagination,  that gives the heart some weird sense of happiness and dependency. I've had many such idols in my life. And many that I have coveted. One of the best I can remember is an art knife from an old Franklin Mint catalog. It was beautiful with a gorgeous jewel in the centre, Celtic designs all around, a wolf like carving on the handle and it was mounted on a velvet plaque. I doubt it was useful for much, besides, who'd use a knife like that to cut anything? Of course, it was expensive and I didn't bother about it much. But I kept the catalog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it about beauty that draws us? Makes us want to claim it for ourselves? It's kind of scary how far people would go for something that appeals to their human senses, something "rare", "limited", "unattainable". People would pay any price for something that is off limits. Quite stupid. But I can understand our quest for beauty though. It's part of our history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's currently a mobile phone in the market that costs Rs.1,00,000. It doesn't have fingerprint access, laser pointers, tiny ninja star shooters or diamond studded braille keys. It doesn't even have GSM, Wi-fi, 3G or infrared. So what does the Motorola Aura have? A Grade 1 Sapphire crystal over the display. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Because people are worth it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't buy it even if it costs Rs.5000 because I'm currently on the look out for the perfect full featured phone. I want to experience all (possible) the technology available in my generation while I'm alive. I don't want to die without having tried all the things that would be museum material to my grandkids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But finding that great phone of the present future is a difficult task indeed. I want a flip phone (but for some reason India doesn't have any) or else a touch screen one would be nice. Until I sit on it or scratch it or drive a screwdriver through it. I remember when a colleague of mine got the first O2 phone and we were all oohing and aahing, another colleague was like "So, how do you dial a number?'. I want a phone that's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; confusing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SfV6uuH-lNI/AAAAAAAACag/eMrwlmJ7CKE/s1600-h/iphone-luxury-phone1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 217px; height: 145px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SfV6uuH-lNI/AAAAAAAACag/eMrwlmJ7CKE/s320/iphone-luxury-phone1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329300677136913618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Who said choice makes things easier? Five years ago, finding that perfect pair of shoes or jeans was like finding the right guy. Now, finding the perfect mobile phone is harder. You find a promising one and it won't have one simple feature available in all other models from that brand or will lack in something.  Or you find one with all the features possible and they make it look so ugly that you'd have to dodge into alleys before taking a call. It's as if they're sabotaging a good thing on purpose. Is there some sort of consumer law that requires that nothing with everything should be manufactured?&lt;br /&gt;They've done that to shoes here as well. There'll be one with the right amount of heel, lovely straps and then they'll go and add some cheap looking stones all over or an ugly sole. Must be to add "character". Character is relative, you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about cars? Why do they even make ugly cars? Why stick to the whole "practical not pretty" box and make it unpretty just cos you want it to be called practical. That can mess with people's minds and make them choose ugly things because they think it will be practical. I know people who pick out awful looking luggage because they think that no one will steal them. I understand that there is there question of differing tastes and that each person is entitled to their own. But come on, it's not about red vs blue. It's about having a sickening blue option available. Or maybe I don't really understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I might have put this ad up before. Can't remember. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K7pvaWLIkig"&gt;Beauty, brains and Mercedes&lt;/a&gt;  - have it all?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27033892-3518335959962883088?l=wolfsong1611.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LostInWonder/~4/5ZRnzT9hSeg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/feeds/3518335959962883088/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27033892&amp;postID=3518335959962883088" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/3518335959962883088?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27033892/posts/default/3518335959962883088?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LostInWonder/~3/5ZRnzT9hSeg/confessions-of-material-girl.html" title="Confessions of a Material Girl" /><author><name>Anju</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/TSV0P6-AfHI/AAAAAAAADNs/kzDktuW3S3U/S220/profile1.png" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PtF7KoEGnTQ/SfV6uuH-lNI/AAAAAAAACag/eMrwlmJ7CKE/s72-c/iphone-luxury-phone1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://wolfsong1611.blogspot.com/2009/04/confessions-of-material-girl.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

