<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057</id><updated>2024-10-06T21:44:16.393-07:00</updated><category term="Destined to"/><title type='text'>Random jotting...</title><subtitle type='html'>It is only in such randomness that we find words to put down our most indomitable thoughts.. and as we jot them down on a surface we feel the spirit of being.. and the power of expression..</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>58</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-3395795923456862878</id><published>2015-05-03T13:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2015-05-03T13:58:06.795-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Remake.rewind..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
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   Name=&quot;Outline List 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Simple 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Simple 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Simple 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Classic 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Classic 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Classic 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Classic 4&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Colorful 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Colorful 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Colorful 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Columns 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Columns 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Columns 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Columns 4&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Columns 5&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Grid 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Grid 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Grid 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Grid 4&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Grid 5&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Grid 6&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Grid 7&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Grid 8&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table List 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table List 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table List 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table List 4&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table List 5&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table List 6&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table List 7&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table List 8&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table 3D effects 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table 3D effects 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table 3D effects 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Contemporary&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Elegant&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Professional&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Subtle 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Subtle 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Web 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Web 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Web 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Balloon Text&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;39&quot; Name=&quot;Table Grid&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Table Theme&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; Name=&quot;Placeholder Text&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;1&quot; QFormat=&quot;true&quot; Name=&quot;No Spacing&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;60&quot; Name=&quot;Light Shading&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;61&quot; Name=&quot;Light List&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;62&quot; Name=&quot;Light Grid&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;63&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Shading 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;64&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Shading 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;65&quot; Name=&quot;Medium List 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;66&quot; Name=&quot;Medium List 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;67&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Grid 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;68&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Grid 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;69&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Grid 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;70&quot; Name=&quot;Dark List&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;71&quot; Name=&quot;Colorful Shading&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;72&quot; Name=&quot;Colorful List&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;73&quot; Name=&quot;Colorful Grid&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;60&quot; Name=&quot;Light Shading Accent 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;61&quot; Name=&quot;Light List Accent 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;62&quot; Name=&quot;Light Grid Accent 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;63&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Shading 1 Accent 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;64&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Shading 2 Accent 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;65&quot; Name=&quot;Medium List 1 Accent 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot; Name=&quot;Revision&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;34&quot; QFormat=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;List Paragraph&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;29&quot; QFormat=&quot;true&quot; Name=&quot;Quote&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;30&quot; QFormat=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Intense Quote&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;66&quot; Name=&quot;Medium List 2 Accent 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;67&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Grid 1 Accent 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;68&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Grid 2 Accent 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;69&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Grid 3 Accent 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;70&quot; Name=&quot;Dark List Accent 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;71&quot; Name=&quot;Colorful Shading Accent 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;72&quot; Name=&quot;Colorful List Accent 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;73&quot; Name=&quot;Colorful Grid Accent 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;60&quot; Name=&quot;Light Shading Accent 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;61&quot; Name=&quot;Light List Accent 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;62&quot; Name=&quot;Light Grid Accent 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;63&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Shading 1 Accent 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;64&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Shading 2 Accent 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;65&quot; Name=&quot;Medium List 1 Accent 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;66&quot; Name=&quot;Medium List 2 Accent 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;67&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Grid 1 Accent 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;68&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Grid 2 Accent 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;69&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Grid 3 Accent 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;70&quot; Name=&quot;Dark List Accent 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;71&quot; Name=&quot;Colorful Shading Accent 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;72&quot; Name=&quot;Colorful List Accent 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;73&quot; Name=&quot;Colorful Grid Accent 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;60&quot; Name=&quot;Light Shading Accent 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;61&quot; Name=&quot;Light List Accent 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;62&quot; Name=&quot;Light Grid Accent 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;63&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Shading 1 Accent 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;64&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Shading 2 Accent 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;65&quot; Name=&quot;Medium List 1 Accent 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;66&quot; Name=&quot;Medium List 2 Accent 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;67&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Grid 1 Accent 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;68&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Grid 2 Accent 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;69&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Grid 3 Accent 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;70&quot; Name=&quot;Dark List Accent 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;71&quot; Name=&quot;Colorful Shading Accent 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;72&quot; Name=&quot;Colorful List Accent 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;73&quot; Name=&quot;Colorful Grid Accent 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;60&quot; Name=&quot;Light Shading Accent 4&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;61&quot; Name=&quot;Light List Accent 4&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;62&quot; Name=&quot;Light Grid Accent 4&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;63&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Shading 1 Accent 4&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;64&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Shading 2 Accent 4&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;65&quot; Name=&quot;Medium List 1 Accent 4&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;66&quot; Name=&quot;Medium List 2 Accent 4&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;67&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Grid 1 Accent 4&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;68&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Grid 2 Accent 4&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;69&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Grid 3 Accent 4&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;70&quot; Name=&quot;Dark List Accent 4&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;71&quot; Name=&quot;Colorful Shading Accent 4&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;72&quot; Name=&quot;Colorful List Accent 4&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;73&quot; Name=&quot;Colorful Grid Accent 4&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;60&quot; Name=&quot;Light Shading Accent 5&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;61&quot; Name=&quot;Light List Accent 5&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;62&quot; Name=&quot;Light Grid Accent 5&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;63&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Shading 1 Accent 5&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;64&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Shading 2 Accent 5&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;65&quot; Name=&quot;Medium List 1 Accent 5&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;66&quot; Name=&quot;Medium List 2 Accent 5&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;67&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Grid 1 Accent 5&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;68&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Grid 2 Accent 5&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;69&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Grid 3 Accent 5&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;70&quot; Name=&quot;Dark List Accent 5&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;71&quot; Name=&quot;Colorful Shading Accent 5&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;72&quot; Name=&quot;Colorful List Accent 5&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;73&quot; Name=&quot;Colorful Grid Accent 5&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;60&quot; Name=&quot;Light Shading Accent 6&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;61&quot; Name=&quot;Light List Accent 6&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;62&quot; Name=&quot;Light Grid Accent 6&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;63&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Shading 1 Accent 6&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;64&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Shading 2 Accent 6&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;65&quot; Name=&quot;Medium List 1 Accent 6&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;66&quot; Name=&quot;Medium List 2 Accent 6&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;67&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Grid 1 Accent 6&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;68&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Grid 2 Accent 6&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;69&quot; Name=&quot;Medium Grid 3 Accent 6&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;70&quot; Name=&quot;Dark List Accent 6&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;71&quot; Name=&quot;Colorful Shading Accent 6&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;72&quot; Name=&quot;Colorful List Accent 6&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;73&quot; Name=&quot;Colorful Grid Accent 6&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;19&quot; QFormat=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Subtle Emphasis&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;21&quot; QFormat=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Intense Emphasis&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;31&quot; QFormat=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Subtle Reference&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;32&quot; QFormat=&quot;true&quot;
   Name=&quot;Intense Reference&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;33&quot; QFormat=&quot;true&quot; Name=&quot;Book Title&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;37&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot;
   UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot; Name=&quot;Bibliography&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;39&quot; SemiHidden=&quot;true&quot;
   UnhideWhenUsed=&quot;true&quot; QFormat=&quot;true&quot; Name=&quot;TOC Heading&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;41&quot; Name=&quot;Plain Table 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;42&quot; Name=&quot;Plain Table 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;43&quot; Name=&quot;Plain Table 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;44&quot; Name=&quot;Plain Table 4&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;45&quot; Name=&quot;Plain Table 5&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;40&quot; Name=&quot;Grid Table Light&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;46&quot; Name=&quot;Grid Table 1 Light&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;47&quot; Name=&quot;Grid Table 2&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;48&quot; Name=&quot;Grid Table 3&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;49&quot; Name=&quot;Grid Table 4&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;50&quot; Name=&quot;Grid Table 5 Dark&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;51&quot; Name=&quot;Grid Table 6 Colorful&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;52&quot; Name=&quot;Grid Table 7 Colorful&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;46&quot;
   Name=&quot;Grid Table 1 Light Accent 1&quot;/&gt;
  &lt;w:LsdException Locked=&quot;false&quot; Priority=&quot;47&quot; Name=&quot;Grid Table 2 Accent 1&quot;/&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
I wait my time all night for you&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
In silk in cotton spun sheets&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
For once we’ve fallen so hard in love&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
I’d never wish to return being old me&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
It’s not about a thousand vows&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
Or lilies we find in million shades&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
It’s when I come home everyday&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
you would open the door to me&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
and I’ll swing and sway in your arms &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
like the wind hangs on to a tree&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
they say they know it passes for sure&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
in a couple of years or even a decade &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
you slip, you forget , you leave&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
for the fairytales are afterall, make believe &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
I could simmer down too, lose the tint&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
And send my hunger away..&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;counting sheeps to fall
asleep , well&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
That’s not how we let life play&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
So, I wait my time all night for you&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
to remake love after we make love&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
in silk in cotton spun sheets…&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/3395795923456862878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2015/05/remakerewind.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/3395795923456862878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/3395795923456862878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2015/05/remakerewind.html' title='Remake.rewind..'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-2261518265991237840</id><published>2014-04-27T00:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2014-04-27T00:13:06.719-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A lot out of nothing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
It was a winter afternoon in Delhi, the cold almost like Anamika&#39;s current state of mind. &amp;nbsp;The fifth floor of the building where her lab was, anamika got a lovely view of the ring road, the bustling traffic, the main entrance to the hospital filled with patients and their entire familes waiting in patience for their long awaited appointments with mixed emotions. some were sad, some hopeful, some just content, some excited. In the background a bus screeched to halt, another car honked, a cycle trinked. Closer to her on the window sill , a couple of known pigeons notoriously littered and continued building their nests with a strange persistence fighting the cold winds. It was nearing lunch time and everyone around seemed to be suddenly too hungry to keep control. Her lab mates called out to each other asking to immediately open their lunch boxes. the centre table was being cleared for lunch. All work was asked to be stalled, jokes were being cracked in the background, sirish had once more annoyed someone with his double meaning banter, cracking everyone else with laughter. &amp;nbsp;Pradeep sir, a senior scientist laughing took out his gloves, washed his hands and observing anamika standing quitely next to the window announced to her with an excitement of a man in love with food , &quot;Anu! Lunch!, come fast.&quot; to which she replied with an asserting nod, she would be right there, just another moment.Anamika watched the regular scene in her life with an honest admiration trying to understand if what she was feeling within was really comparable to all of the activities happening around her. she was confused, upset, angry, sad, all in one and that too for no reason she could draw. &quot;Maybe I&#39;m only wasting my time over-thinking, this isn&#39;t the first time something like this has come up, probably he&#39;s not even thinking about me right now.&quot; she thought to herself with a tug at her heart saying otherwise. Once more checking her seemingly dead phone, seeing no missed calls, texts, whatsapp messages from Dev, she sighed and walked over to the centre table joining her labmates to eat her sorrow away. Maybe being with friends would help her get distracted from her strange thoughts. so she contributed to the lunch conversations with full spirit and happy pretence.&lt;br /&gt;
Dev, on the other side of the city was completely unaware of the rush of emotions he was causing Anamika. It was just another day for him, home, office, a set of meetings, a chore he had to finish for dad and then hopefully back home in time. Ofcourse, anamika was there, in his life, his mind, heart, in everything he did, a fact he didn&#39;t feel the need to express all the time anymore given all the years he has been with her. He really missed her today but he was just not able to gather time to contact her and that was definitely annoying him. &quot;Oh! she&#39;ll understand&quot; he hoped .&lt;br /&gt;
The day passed, dragged for anamika, flew for Dev and by the time it was evening he picked his phone and dialled her.&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;anu!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;yes&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;you wouldn&#39;t believe the day I&#39;ve had&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Oh! I would believe, had fun??&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Fun?! , at office?, no it was hell of a day , with all the file work i had to clear and I still have a couple of calls to finish before heading home. I couldn&#39;t even find the time to reach you&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;right, that must have been it.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;what&#39;s wrong? are you upset?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;nah! Its fine dev, leave it&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;this isn&#39;t the first day this has happened anu, you know that.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;and this won&#39;t be the last day either Dev, I know I&#39;m not a part of your important schedule these days&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;You ain&#39;t a part of any schedule Anu, you&#39;re a part of my life and I don&#39;t need to keep appointments for you my love.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;you and your brilliant words.&quot; Anamika was feeling defeated, guilty, anger and confusion in the same second. It was not just about this particular day, it was about a series of weeks when he was just not paying her enough attention. the current gestures weren&#39;t enough for her it seemed, &amp;nbsp;the romance, the excitement, she was longing for a passion they used to have in their initial year , which she knew was still there buried somewhere below the pile of time. there was something she deeply wanted from him. something was definitely amiss.Maybe she wanted him to surprise her. Maybe Anamika wanted Dev to romance her more, get her flowers, go out of his way to meet her, bunk his office, take her for a long drive, even though such gestures were not really important to her. Her core happiness lied in something unknown, she surely wanted something but wasn&#39;t able to figure exactly what. Unless she did, how could she ask for it from Dev. she wanted to cry in confusion and pour her heart out. she wanted to ask him why she was so upset. whether this was because their relationship was old now and he had started taking her for granted. she wanted to blame him, shout at him and just walk away, but she remained silent as she held the phone for a long pause.&lt;br /&gt;
Dev waited silently on the other side of the line, asking her after a while to speak further. he needed to know what was she upset about, he had been noticing a cold note in her words lately. where he was going wrong? had he not been attentive enough? had be hurt her in some way? if only she would tell him. he wanted to give her everything he possibly could. Just recently he had taken her out to a lovely eating joint and spent an amazing karaoke evening with her. he always managed to make her smil, then what could it possibly be. but Dev was a rational man and he balanced the irrational anu. he knew she was so much more mature than him in so many ways but sometimes she&#39;d get so difficult and confusing. Both of them were deeply happy with each other and both knew this, yet the recent days had brought a slight strain between them without an apparent reason.&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;I&#39;d better keep the phone down, I can&#39;t figure what to say&quot; finally responded anamika &lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Sure Anu, call me when you&#39;re ready to talk&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
Anamika being the more introspective one aggressively went through her thought catalogue. she sat that night for hours staring at her bedroom walls, eating dinner silently and drinking coffee. when she had had enough for the day, she decided to sleep on it. maybe this was just a phase, all couples go through it she consoled herself. Dev had not disturbed her with any texts. he knew she needed that space to get back to herself. His love for her was no longer dependent on routine goodnight calls or texts. They always had the next day to be together again.&lt;br /&gt;
Next morning Anamika woke to a beep on her phone, a text saying &quot;I love you anu, I finally figured the solution to your agony.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
She groggily laughed to her herself , dialled his cellphone and spoke with a morning croak, &quot; Dev, I love you too baby and what solution are you talking of? I seemed so silly yesterday, I&#39;m sorry for being so hard on you sometimes.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;stop! It&#39;s fine and I just know what we really really need. Your mood was only a symptom of a bigger and more important decision that has been pending for long now. I know how to fix this. you trust me?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;ofcourse I do , but what are suggesting?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;I&#39;m suggesting we get married. It&#39;s time to be together now, It&#39;s time to merge our time and take the next step in life. I want you completely with me, as family. &quot;&lt;br /&gt;
Anamika could feel a new state of mind suddenly take over her entirely. This was what she had needed and secretly wanted and he understood. The relief she felt made her sure once again that Dev was one of the best things to have happened to her. &amp;nbsp;She felt like her powerful and invincible self again. Anamika had always been driven and &amp;nbsp;rooted by love.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/2261518265991237840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2014/04/a-lot-out-of-nothing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/2261518265991237840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/2261518265991237840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2014/04/a-lot-out-of-nothing.html' title='A lot out of nothing'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-348703494200767177</id><published>2014-03-18T03:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2014-03-18T03:52:11.395-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white; color: #222222;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;kisi din agar parchayi nahi dikhi&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;color: #222222;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;to dhoop mei kami hogi&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;color: #222222;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;phisal jaayein agar raah mei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;color: #222222;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;to zameen mei hi nami hogi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;color: #222222;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;agar bin wajah hasi choote&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;color: #222222;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;to dil muskuraya hoga&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;color: #222222;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;fir chalakte aasuoon ko&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;color: #222222;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;na jaane kis ne rulaya hoga&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;color: #222222;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;na mile khoi hui kitaab to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;color: #222222;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;galat panno ka hisaab hoga&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;color: #222222;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;rooh jis din khamosh rahe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;color: #222222;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;duaaon mei zara si kami hogi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;color: #222222;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;zaroorat hai roshni ko&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;color: #222222;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;aam zindagi se milne ki&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;color: #222222;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;khaasiyat ki chamak mei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;color: #222222;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;kisi din kuch to kami hogi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/348703494200767177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2014/03/blog-post_18.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/348703494200767177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/348703494200767177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2014/03/blog-post_18.html' title=''/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-4463539380374436082</id><published>2013-08-10T11:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2013-08-22T22:37:09.082-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
Swirling wishes in the core of a prayer &lt;br /&gt;
while he watches me like no one ever has&lt;br /&gt;
a set of green eyes can bring to me&lt;br /&gt;
the kind of calm that threatens rage&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
an epiphany led me to the simplest truth&lt;br /&gt;
where he is mine, an answer to a quest&lt;br /&gt;
there are no bells no frills no glitter&lt;br /&gt;
only the one man I love as I&#39;m put to test&lt;br /&gt;
Is it faith or the absence of another path&lt;br /&gt;
his strength melting into mine &lt;br /&gt;
laughing together over our faulty lines&lt;br /&gt;
every step rising some more in love&lt;br /&gt;
He can correct me when I go wrong&lt;br /&gt;
while I bring out the best of his share&lt;br /&gt;
willing the storms in the heart wailing now &lt;br /&gt;
reach out and take us ahead safely through&lt;br /&gt;
As cracks in rocks hold homes and light&lt;br /&gt;
to the pounding heart breathing might&lt;br /&gt;
May the Lord of skies reap the sown&lt;br /&gt;
Our ships have sailed with the tides&lt;br /&gt;
wishing in kind winds to be blown&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/4463539380374436082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2013/08/swirling-wishes-in-core-of-prayer-while.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/4463539380374436082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/4463539380374436082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2013/08/swirling-wishes-in-core-of-prayer-while.html' title=''/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-1950779197201871470</id><published>2013-01-27T10:19:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2013-01-27T10:19:48.950-08:00</updated><title type='text'>4.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&quot;Oh yes! In the next one, we&#39;ll improvise on that part some more, and the lathi scene needs to go, it confuses our audience.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Sure, and are we rehearsing once more before we leave tomorrow or are we set?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;We&#39;ll see! Guys,Its time we go home and get some rest, before that lets have a cup of tea at sutta point.&quot; suggested Dafli whom we named so because she was our dafli playing senior. &lt;br /&gt;
This was just another day in college for me, daily theatre group meetings after classes, practice sessions, chit chat and endless cups of tea with the group, who were not only my theatre buddies but also one of the best bunch of friends I had so far.&lt;br /&gt;
So here I was sipping tea, brainstorming and in peace with myself, just when the phone rang. It was an unknown number which had me in two minds about taking the call or not. I did, with a skeptical &quot;hello&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Hi, Am I speaking to Keya? said a male voice&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Umm, yes this is her, how may I help you?&quot; I replied with an intention of cutting the call any second dreading this to be one of those annoying tele-marketing guys&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Ok! so how have you been? Its been months now&quot; asked the voice&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Do I know you? can I know who&#39;s speaking? I asked curiously while my friends continued chattering in the background&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Hey, so you&#39;ve gotten so busy that you forgot me already, new friend.&quot; the voice giggled making me more conscious and just when I was about to give up guessing it dawned on me. I only had one male &#39;new friend&#39; in recent times, Deep. One cannot call us &#39;friends&#39; as we lost touch the day I left his city. That wedding was one to remember, few magnificent days with family and &#39;new friends&#39;. I had been so charmed by this man that I couldn&#39;t find the courage to even ask for his contact number or email ID while leaving, something I regretted for weeks. Now, after so many months, here he was on the other side of the phone. My friend found me.&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Deep. That&#39;s you!!!&quot; I exclaimed so loud as to startle my friends who suddenly became interested in my conversation. I stood up from where I sat and walked towards a quieter corner.&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Oh, thank God! and here I started to think you really have forgotten me.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Hey, no I haven&#39;t. So how did you even find my number?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;I have my sources&quot; came a flirty reply and an audible grin&lt;br /&gt;
Deep hadn&#39;t changed and so hadn&#39;t my love for his sense of humor. Our conversation lasted for 5 hours that evening. Later that night I realized that this was the first time I had ditched my friends in the middle of a tea session for a phone-call. It wasn&#39;t going to be the last time either.&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/1950779197201871470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2013/01/4.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/1950779197201871470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/1950779197201871470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2013/01/4.html' title='4.'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-4065836456806311912</id><published>2013-01-06T06:30:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2013-01-07T06:26:45.105-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am asleep</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
There isn&#39;t any poetry coming from me in these times. These days, months, hours , the time span doesn&#39;t matter . Is it because there is too much calm living in my mind or too much turmoil?&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;I get to work where I want to work , an opportunity to realize one of my dreams. I am one of the lucky ones to be granted a chance, so does that slow down poetry in me as if all we need to put our rhyming words is a feeling of exhilarating pain or happiness. For sure I am not overjoyed because I haven&#39;t made a complete position for myself in my career, there is more assessment to go before I can really say Bingo! Maybe that&#39;s the reason of my emotional neutrality. That sense of &quot;wait till we get there&quot; in fear of jinxing the awaited...&lt;br /&gt;
I am in no pain either, nothing acute to be more precise. Pain is so fundamental to our existence that there comes a point when you filter out unnecessary hurt on your own, so that leaves you with no drama, no frills. Is that the reason why I cannot bring myself to write? &lt;br /&gt;
Then there is that force that we feel the urgency to put into words. Dreams, love, unfulfilled wishes, death, life, nature... Its all around all the time. I have many a times described them before, is that the reason why I feel I have nothing more to say??&lt;br /&gt;
What am I waiting for? a good moment, a milestone..closure?&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe I&#39;m only waiting for myself to return from someplace before we start afresh for another..&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/4065836456806311912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2013/01/i-am-asleep.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/4065836456806311912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/4065836456806311912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2013/01/i-am-asleep.html' title='I am asleep'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-2091799576479978941</id><published>2013-01-06T06:08:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2013-01-06T06:08:39.047-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
A breath kept short saving some air&lt;br /&gt;
were you nervous by my longing stare&lt;br /&gt;
I could feel your skin flush and&amp;nbsp; pound&lt;br /&gt;
she&#39;ll kiss me well was the beating sound&lt;br /&gt;
We closed our eyes, I cheated there&lt;br /&gt;
there was a smile in those eyes to swear&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/2091799576479978941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2013/01/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/2091799576479978941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/2091799576479978941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2013/01/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-6322778094166821446</id><published>2012-10-04T09:13:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2012-10-04T09:13:57.848-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
Standing up to get going or watch the skies snowing&lt;br /&gt;
the flower may not wish to bloom and color each time&lt;br /&gt;
some words may sing while others may not even rhyme &lt;br /&gt;
If she flapped her wings the bird may just be deciding&lt;br /&gt;
to fly or not to fly, she may not want to be seen today gliding&lt;br /&gt;
The little girl sleeps every night mid story before the happy ending &lt;br /&gt;
her mornings are brighter than ever &#39;coz she has that story pending&lt;br /&gt;
every half written letter, incomplete union ,an unstitched seam&lt;br /&gt;
not the end, never till completion,longings of an unfinished dream &lt;br /&gt;
I am less inspired some seconds of life, not a bit for many days&lt;br /&gt;
less likely to reach for victory sometimes,self content some may say &lt;br /&gt;
satisfied before even touching shore,oh! It&#39;s fine to be far far away!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/6322778094166821446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/10/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/6322778094166821446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/6322778094166821446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/10/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-4877059333005020187</id><published>2012-10-02T07:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-10-02T07:50:05.104-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
I have travelled distances to watch you grow wings.. with a belief that no one can fly higher than you...&lt;br /&gt;
I have written letters across oceans to spread words about the times when you will outshine &lt;br /&gt;
I have prayed with a plead to build my faith about the smile you will spread within million hearts&lt;br /&gt;
I have given everything away knowing you will call me to the abode that you&#39;ll earn with humility&lt;br /&gt;
I have starved to fill my soul with satiating knowledge about every bread you feed the one in need&lt;br /&gt;
I have stood at the window to trace your path to a place where only goodness can peacefully stay&lt;br /&gt;
I have been the silent friend that passes you the torch when darkness threatens to cloud your day&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/4877059333005020187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/10/i-have-travelled-distances-to-watch-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/4877059333005020187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/4877059333005020187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/10/i-have-travelled-distances-to-watch-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-120598816598086790</id><published>2012-08-11T09:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-09-14T09:45:53.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Plan</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
I remembered the voice tinkle in my ear&lt;br /&gt;
he had said &quot;my beloved, you&#39;re here.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
pressing my hand upon his chest&lt;br /&gt;
my head lay calmly on him to rest&lt;br /&gt;
he was the feather in my daily dreams&lt;br /&gt;
flying around the frame with blurry seams&lt;br /&gt;
I remember his touch from before I took birth&lt;br /&gt;
He willed me to set&amp;nbsp; foot on this earth&lt;br /&gt;
As a child I played without the slightest doubt&lt;br /&gt;
maybe I had known then his whereabout&lt;br /&gt;
growing up clouded my head all the more&lt;br /&gt;
I gathered doubts no more that sure&lt;br /&gt;
I began to lose him to a larger realm &lt;br /&gt;
but he still hangs on to the blurry seam&lt;br /&gt;
another heart caught me in love so dear&lt;br /&gt;
but I only wished one voice to tinkle in my ear&lt;br /&gt;
I held on to this love with all my heart&lt;br /&gt;
intuitive of the end even before the start&lt;br /&gt;
I find a mark whenever I truly feel &lt;br /&gt;
he painted a trail for a cosmic deal&lt;br /&gt;
years pass by we only reach so far&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;a step towards one another every hour&lt;br /&gt;
not knowing whose voice tinkles in my ear &lt;br /&gt;
agonizing more than if I couldn&#39;t hear&lt;br /&gt;
caught in life&#39;s unforeseen themes&lt;br /&gt;
how long before he clears the blurry seam&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/120598816598086790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/08/plan.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/120598816598086790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/120598816598086790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/08/plan.html' title='Plan'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-8591610486671061412</id><published>2012-07-15T01:13:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2012-07-15T01:13:20.842-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chase</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
She wanted to sleep but was far too awake for night&lt;br /&gt;
for silence she prayed with the noise under the street light &lt;br /&gt;
chaotic dreams, the ones she still had to realize&lt;br /&gt;
she had a choice, then didn&#39;t to everyone&#39;s surprise&lt;br /&gt;
would she reach where the eyes could set their gaze&lt;br /&gt;
she still needs to walk a long time, in her lonesome race&lt;br /&gt;
a song written on those lips, from young imaginations of yesterday&lt;br /&gt;
with a need to rise in her world before she can sing herself to sleep today&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/8591610486671061412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/07/chase.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/8591610486671061412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/8591610486671061412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/07/chase.html' title='Chase'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-8156482070726989915</id><published>2012-05-07T09:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-05-07T09:33:05.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'>3.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
Not one minute had passed in silence since we drove past the lake and I was realizing, when it came to interaction,Deep was far from boring. He almost gave me a mini tour of the city during the drive and imitated a typical tour guide as he pointed out landmarks and heritage buildings that fell on route keeping me completely entertained and engrossed.Almost half hour later, he stopped&amp;nbsp;the car in front of the beauty salon where Shreya was busy getting ready, it would take another 10 minutes she informed us on phone, so Deep and I kept talking while we waited.&amp;nbsp;This time&amp;nbsp;I casually inquired about his studies and work.&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;I&#39;m an engineer and have just started my career, my life&#39;s all about the daily grind. let&#39;s talk about Keya instead. So, you go to college, in Delhi? &quot; inquired Deep.&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Yeah Delhi university, my final year of studying economics,can&#39;t believe its almost time to leave.I wish we didn&#39;t have to leave college ever&quot; I sighed&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Hey! senti-mental! I believe in making the most of our present, so while you&#39;re in the final year, make sure you never leave a single opportunity to have a blast with friends and even the teachers if you wish&quot; he laughingly added.&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Ya right right! actually apart from studies I&#39;m into lots of co-curricular activities,actively involved in college theatre and university fests.So, I am definitely having the best time of my life or as you put it ,having a blast! didn&#39;t you too in your days?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Oh without doubt! I wish I could go back there, not that I don&#39;t enjoy my job, but being a student is out of this world, no responsibilities, no tension, one should live that phase to the max with all those friends whom you may or may not see once you pass out,professional life can be pretty unnerving.&quot;,for a moment he seemed lost in a memory and then returning from the thought he continued, &quot;Aah nevermind! You made me nostalgic, damn! I should be angry at you&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;I can see that, sorry! I seemed to have pulled the wrong strings.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;C&#39;mon, you didn&#39;t pull &lt;i&gt;wrong&lt;/i&gt; strings, I have no wrong strings, they are just strings,all strings attached ready to be pulled&quot; he chuckled, &quot;but if you&#39;re still feeling sorry , I can tell you a way to make it up to me&quot;,his eyes twinkled while he said that.&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Ahaan, how? may I know?&quot; my&amp;nbsp;curiosity&amp;nbsp;was growing and I looked away from him&lt;br /&gt;
From the corner of my eyes I saw him turn towards me on the driver&#39;s seat, then he gave me a long stare and said &quot;A Kiss&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;
My eyes widened, my throat dried up, I clenched my fist, a chill ran down my spine, in three seconds I was scared, confused, surprised and a lot many things, he wouldn&#39;t be able to harm me in the middle of a market place was my first thought and Shreya would be out of the parlour any moment now, &quot;Relax Keya!&quot; I calmed myself, &amp;nbsp;I felt his gaze on me, so gathering myself ,I turned to confront him &amp;nbsp;in order to clarify whatever nonsense he had in mind and made eye contact. Then I watched as Deep coolly slid his hands in his jacket&#39;s inner pocket, taking out a small chocolate and placed it on my lap saying &quot;I meant a Hershey&#39;s Kiss,eat it&quot; breaking into a fit of laughter.&amp;nbsp;This time I was the senior ragged by a fresher. My face flushed as I picked up the chocolate from my lap, this was the most embarrassing moment of my life and also the funniest I realized. I gave out a nervous chuckle and sighed.Five minutes later unwrapping the chocolate,I looked at Deep, his laughter had subsided,so I jokingly remarked &quot;God! you almost freaked me out with that sense of humor of yours&quot;. He nodded like a true prankster and replied &quot;there&#39;s a lot more to me than you see baby&quot; chuckling he added, &quot;by the way I must tell,you look gorgeous in green&quot; and then giving me a genuinely warm smile he stepped out of the car to check if Shreya was ready to go.&lt;br /&gt;
We reached back to the house right on time to Boori aunty&#39;s respite and the ashirbaad ceremony commenced shortly after Anurag&#39;s arrival.The couple was surrounded by onlooking relatives while the elders blessed the couple one by one with rice, darbha and sandalwood paste and the ceremony was completed with Anurag and Shreya exchanging rings as rose petals were showered on them. Even though not a Bengali custom,the current generation cannot celebrate without a DJ, so the ring ceremony was immediately followed by uninhibited dancing by the old and the young alike, it was an entertaining sight to watch the most unlikely people grooving to party music. later,at the dinner buffet Ma and I saw that it was a gathering of a hundred odd guests and personally attending to each guest can quite a task, but everybody was extremely happy with the arrangements, all credit going to Deep. His event management skills were a talking point this evening as I was told by baba later. I was strolling around with my dinner plate looking for a place to sit , I ran into Deep who was busy playing host and asked him to get his plate of food and join me , to which he replied tongue- in cheek, &quot;As long as you&#39;re eating, my stomach&#39;s full&quot;. Once again taken aback by his bold words I scurried for an appropriate response and said, &quot;You&#39;re flirting with me mister! do you realize that?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Obviously I am, didn&#39;t &lt;i&gt;you &lt;/i&gt;realize that? ha ha&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Huh very funny! so won&#39;t you stop?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Naah! especially since I know you&#39;re single&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot; Ahaan!Who told you I was?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Ain&#39;t you? Oh my God should I be worrying about getting bashed up by your boyfriend&quot; replied Deep with a fake &#39;scared&#39; expression that I found immensely cute.&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Ughh! Please spare me I don&#39;t have one. What about you huh?&quot; my&amp;nbsp;curiosity was flying&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;I am trying to make a girlfriend, she&#39;s standing right in front of me.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
I couldn&#39;t stop myself from gushing hearing that and coolly said&amp;nbsp;&quot; My god ! you&#39;re out of control man, ha ha ,fine! keep trying&quot; I winked at him&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Without doubt I will but before that I need to go check on a few guests, I&#39;ll be back darling&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Okay darling! I&#39;m waiting&quot; was my impromtu response,he gave me a friendly nudge and left.I had never flirted like this before and neither had I ever been so charmed by a man like I was by this one.&lt;br /&gt;
The rest of the evening went through well,with good music, food, dancing and endless conversations. I was introduced to friends and family every 20 minutes by my parents and I politely obliged, exchanged greetings and made small talk, but my mind seemed to wander everytime and I couldn&#39;t figure why.&lt;br /&gt;
The function came to an end quite late in the night and all the guests started to leave and the ones staying in the house prepared to retire in their rooms, I separated from the crowd and sat down on one of the benches in the lawn watching the cleaners prepare to clear the post-party mess, the caterers packing up the left over food and Shreya di&#39;s uncles shouting out instructions to them for the next day&#39;s lunch menu. In the midst of &amp;nbsp;the commotion I happened to catch a glance of Deep talking intensely with one of his uncles, wishing him to look towards where I sat, but he didn&#39;t to my slight disappointment . For the first time I closely observed his looks, he was a medium built man with a blend of cute and handsome facial features and long wavy hair to give him a rugged appearance, as a finishing touch a pair of dimples and that infectious smile created the boyish charm he effortlessly carries around.His looks and behaviour were both complementary as well as opposing in an interesting fashion making me more and more curious to know him. It was at that moment when I realized how, in a span of &amp;nbsp;just 5 hours two complete strangers had unexpectedly transited from complete indifference to friendly teasing without a pinch of effort,the boldness and the strikingly frank verbal exchange was a new experience for me and refreshing too. My early prejudices against the man had gone for a toss since the moment he offered me the Hershey&#39;s kiss. I felt unusually happy and strange by my uncanny liking for Deep,knowing that we&#39;ve only just met .&lt;br /&gt;
It had been a long and eventful day. While going inside the house baba noticed me sitting on the bench and walked up to me. He mentioned the lateness of the hour and asked me to go to bed so I would wake up fresh next morning.I assured him that I would and that I needed to sit alone in the lawn for just a little more time. He approved and let me stay.So,once again left alone with my thoughts I flung my sandals away and placed my bare feet on the cool dewy grass, breathed in the breezy night air and gazed at the clear, starry sky.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/8156482070726989915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/05/3.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/8156482070726989915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/8156482070726989915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/05/3.html' title='3.'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-8489109161128724675</id><published>2012-05-02T13:12:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2012-05-08T00:34:42.891-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
Shreya Bannerjee in her late 20&#39;s was a beautiful woman, the kind of person one looks upto for beauty, elegance, smartness, academic acheivements and most importantly for a good nature. The Bannerji family was proud of their daughter, and rightfully so. During lunch Boori aunty &amp;nbsp;introduced me to Shreya Di and asked us to talk and get to know each other, apart from an initial hesitation and shyness, within a couple of hours I began to interact with all the youngsters present there with ease. Shreya and her cousins made me feel like I was already a part of the gang as they interrogated me about college, studies and my life in general with genuine interest,taking away any kind of awkwardness that comes naturally when we meet people for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;
One of the cousins informed me that this evening we would be having the ashirbaad ceremony, the bengali version of an engagement ceremony that&amp;nbsp;preferably&amp;nbsp;takes place a couple of days before the wedding. Shreya di was living one of the most beautiful phases of her life, and like any normal girl she had dreams of being the most beautiful bride in the world, so she had made sure that she chose the best attire for each ceremony, perfectly combined with jewellery, make-up , shoes and the works. She showed me the anarkali suit she would be wearing for the ashirbaad ceremony,the fabric was a soft pista shade and was heavily embroidered but certainly elegant, and I felt she had the taste,to be slightly cliche yet remarkably different. I verbally appreciated her choice which made her blush with nervous excitement. We chattered casually all afternoon about things such has the wedding preparations, other relatives,the romantic love story of Shreya and her now fiance Anurag , interrupted by funny little gossip sessions of the cousins about their own respective love lives and so on ,meanwhile I kept thinking of my own attire for the evening, I hadn&#39;t really planned so much, now I was wishing I had.&lt;br /&gt;
It was almost 4 in the evening when Shreya di left for the Beauty parlour to get dressed. I continued hanging around the house with the rest of the family and friends, getting to know them while gorging on tea and snacks that almost magically appeared in all rooms every hour throughout the day. I had just finished my latest cup of tea and was searching for the kitchen to return the cup when I ran into Deep, this time in the foyer, only the second time after I had seen him from the balcony. He was fiddling with his iPhone and headsets and carrying a set of dry-cleaned blazers while walking towards a room, maybe his. He had his back towards me, so I cleared my throat which made him turn. He seemed to recognize me as the girl on the balcony as his acknowledging eyes met mine.I politely queried about the kitchen, he showed me the way and before I could thank him and &amp;nbsp;introduce myself, the man continued walking away, fiddling with this gadget. Not that he was rude, but there was something about his attitude which annoyed me, how much additional time would it have taken to make the conversation last a bit longer and ask a girl her name, especially when the girl is a guest at your sister&#39;s wedding. Then a moment later I asked myself why was I getting so flustered,I do not know him at all, hence how he behaves with his guests should be the least of my concerns.So I quickly found the kitchen as directed and went back to the cheerful living room to join the rest of the party,volunteering to help the elders with a few last minute chores.&lt;br /&gt;
The guests had started pouring in from 6 in the evening, Ma and I took almost 2 hours to decide our clothes and earrings and to get ready. My mother loves to dress me up,and insists on applying make-up whenever the occasion, Personally I would prefer to keep my face bare most times but just to keep her from getting grumpy about my lack of interest in self decoration, I agreed to apply kajal and a hint of lip color of her choice, and wore a green cotton silk churidar for the ceremony, simple and comfortable, the way I like it. All of us were asked to gather in one of the halls in the ground floor which was assigned for the ashirbaad ceremony, Once we were ready, Ma and I went down to the hall together and joined baba who was already present there helping Alok uncle with some arrangements before Anurag arrived. I scanned the hall once to see the number of guests arriving and to check out the pool of fashion one expects at an event like this. In one corner, next to the pandit stood Boori aunty, all dressed up, talking anxiously on the phone. I started walking to her casually when she noticed me and suddenly asked me to quicken my stride, I hurried towards her asking what was the matter. Shreya di was running late at the parlour and if someone didn&#39;t go pick her up immediately the ceremony would get&amp;nbsp;unnecessarily&amp;nbsp;delayed, Boori aunty feared that Anurag&#39;s parents might not like to see the bride-to-be missing when they arrived.&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Keya beta, go find Deep for me please, will you?&quot; requested a hyper tensed boori aunty&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Of course aunty, just wait here. and please drink some water, there is nothing to worry about.&quot; I calmly replied before starting to look for her son.&lt;br /&gt;
I found him near the front gate, chatting with a guy his age,most probably a friend.&lt;br /&gt;
I went up to him and said in a business like tone , &quot;Excuse me Deep! Boori aunty is looking for you, it&#39;s urgent.&quot; He heard me, nodded and went towards the hall, I followed him inside.&lt;br /&gt;
What followed in the next 5 minutes was a rapid conversation and split second decisions between mother and son. It was decided that Deep would immediately go and pick up Shreya from the parlour and bring her back to the house before 8 o&#39;clock sharp. He would have to take a girl along who would be able to assist shreya in case she needs any help . Boori aunty started looking around the hall in urgency for a girl to send with Deep and by chance I fell within her view, so It was decided that I would be the assistant.&lt;br /&gt;
I was only too keen to be of any help to Shreya di , whom I had taken a liking to and agreed to accompany Deep without any question, so I followed him to the car and sat on the passenger&#39;s side&amp;nbsp;quietly&amp;nbsp;as he put on the seat belts, started the engine and we quickly pulled out of the driveway once again at a speed only batman would risk. I was slightly apprehensive about the car ride with this man, There was something about the attitude that was bothersome, nothing negative, but almost like a wall which seemed to be challenging my otherwise clear sense of judgement. Surely it would be an awkward car ride and not to mention boring but only till we reach Shreya Di of course. I sighed and looked straight out of the&amp;nbsp;windshield and chose to entertain myself on my own by&amp;nbsp;marveling&amp;nbsp;at the beautifully lit roads, the pretty houses, people walking down the streets in no hurry, very unlike the non-stop bustling of New Delhi. The almost poetic charm of the Bhopali evening was seeping in as we drove by.&lt;br /&gt;
We were only 5 minutes into our drive and as we exited from the resident locality and touched the main road along the lake, I heard a question coming from the driver&#39;s seat, &quot;So, you&#39;re Keya, like Keya Paata... you&#39;re a leaf?&lt;br /&gt;
Surprised that he was aware of my name and that this arrogant wall had a sense of humour, I giggled and replied , &quot;Ha Ha ,yes!! I am a leaf, I get that a lot and I know you&#39;re Deep and I think you&#39;re lost too deep into your own world?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
My poor joke seemed to have an effect on the guy as I watched his stiff facial muscles relax, he looked at me with the expression of a college senior being ragged by a fresher, he realized how I had quite smoothly made a sarcastic remark on him and&amp;nbsp;unintentionally&amp;nbsp;hit bull&#39;s eye, he opened his mouth, maybe to defend himself with a comeback but chose not to and gave me a grin instead followed by a friendly wink and finally breaking into an innocent throaty laughter which was so infectious,I couldn&#39;t help but join in.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/8489109161128724675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/05/2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/8489109161128724675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/8489109161128724675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/05/2.html' title='2.'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-197105302491508789</id><published>2012-05-01T14:29:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2012-05-08T00:33:15.373-07:00</updated><title type='text'>1.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
The train had just started entering Bhopal Junction, Baba was already at the exit door of the coach with all our luggage. He was popping his head out of the open door to look in the forward direction trying to see as far as he could while being safe and consequently letting know something seemingly important to a fellow passenger standing right behind him. My baba and this man represent the typical Indian railway passenger,as if hanging out from the coach makes the train go faster or slower or as if the train driver uses it as some sort of a signal to decide which platform the train should enter based on the passenger&#39;s expressions. Everyone around me seemed to be waiting to get hold of the first coolie who comes running towards the halting train shouting out his service charges to the tired, sleepy passengers,worn out by journey in need of some help with their extra luggage. I watched with amusement, as the patient travelers&amp;nbsp;who seemed to have the time for a long tiresome overnight journey from New Delhi to Bhopal, suddenly transformed into a chaotic restless cattle trying to jump out of the train as soon as possible,negotiating aggressively with the coolies while frantically searching for a dear one expected to receive them with a big smile. I was a part of the cattle of course. Me and Ma noticed as we deboarded that baba had arranged a coolie already with his quick negotiating skills, something he was a natural at, being in the marketing industry for the last 23 years as he would often proudly announce. We handed over our baggage and the three of us followed the coolie out of the station building towards the taxi stand. We hired a taxi , loaded the luggage and as the driver asked the address, baba looked at ma with an obvious expression, she stared back at him in question. I was the daughter to this couple for 20 years now and knew what might me going on here, so I clarified to ma , &quot;You do have the address fed into your cell ma don&#39;t you?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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&quot;Paagol naaki! Your baba noted it down,I didn&#39;t&quot; she replied.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&quot;what me??! I asked &lt;i&gt;you&lt;/i&gt; to note it down abha, didn&#39;t I ??your mother is unbelievable I tell you..&quot; baba defended himself&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
and started a typical 10 minute long argument on carelessness, irresponsibilty, taking each other for granted and every other unrelated issue that could be recalled in that short span of time. In the end none of them won and nothing productive seemed to come out of it, we still didn&#39;t have a solution or the address. In addition My father&#39;s phone battery was dead which made it impossible to contact anyone for directions. The taxi driver couldn&#39;t care less, his meter was running anyway. Finally after both my parents got tired of their silly fight, I coolly mentioned how I had foreseen something like this happening and had taken a picture of the wedding card on my cell phone before leaving home, so we did have the address,suddenly everyone including the driver seemed to thank me for my presence of mind and the taxi started to roll finally. All the way during the taxi ride I couldn&#39;t stop laughing along and making fun of my oldies,&amp;nbsp;embarrassed&amp;nbsp;and refreshed by their daily dose of arguments, something they couldn&#39;t exist without just the way they couldn&#39;t exist without each other.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
After about 20 mins the taxi pulled in front of a big old, white house. Getting out of the taxi we looked towards the entrance. Long strings of marigold covered the iron gates which were wide open and a man was perched on the boundary wall arranging decorative lights.This was definitely a wedding venue, we had reached the right place. As baba payed the driver, Ma excitedly rushed inside,into the front lawns, calling out for a &#39;Boori Di&#39; with a loud, clear sing song tone of voice as if it was her right to be doing so.There were a dozen people present in the front lawns, everyone busy with some task, they all turned as we entered, all happy faces with a bit of curiosity trying to figure out our identity, I blushed as Ma kept calling out, I had preferred to stay back at home, I had never met this family I had tried to explain, how would I enjoy a wedding if I know not a single soul there, but my parents hadn&#39;t approved of my unsocial attitude towards the trip, instead they convinced me that I would have nothing but a gala time, I could never win when Ma went rigid , hence,here I was standing with my super excited mom waiting for &#39;boori di&#39; to appear. She did only after the third call, she came running down the stairs and out of the house towards the entrance with a grin so big and arms so wide open that I couldn&#39;t help but wonder how close my parents have been to her. I was told that Shobha aunty (better known as boori) and her husband &amp;nbsp;Alok uncle had been our next door neighbours for 15 years before they shifted away. Alok uncle and my father had been good &amp;nbsp;friends since college days and as neighbours they had had an amazing time together, even after each of them got married and had kids.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I was just 4 when they had left our locality , even though they could never meet us they had stayed in touch through letters and phone calls, never forgetting my family in good and bad times. So now when their elder daughter Shreya was about to get married, we were invited and this time baba promised Alok uncle that we would surely be present at the wedding and reunite after almost 16 years, a long long time.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Boori aunty hugged Ma tightly almost half jumping and exclaimed as she saw baba behind us, &quot;Oma Debashish! You&#39;ve got greying hair,has it been that long??? I cannot believe I&#39;m seeing you all finally, what a delight!&quot; , Hearing the high pitched chatter that followed between the women,Alok uncle came smiling from somewhere behind the house and acknowledged us by hugging baba just like the friend he had been several years ago, like no time had gone by. Then his eyes fell on me and he asked with wide eyed surprise &quot;keya?&quot; ,I shyly smiled and &amp;nbsp;nodded and before I knew Boori aunty squeezed me in her arms with warmth that seemed strangely comforting.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&quot;Keya!! You&#39;re a lady already, and you&#39;ve grown so pretty babah! welcome my dear..I&#39;m sure you will love it here once you get introduced to everyone&quot; With that we were ushered inside the house and taken to a room allotted for us in the first floor and asked to rest for as long as we wished before the pre-wedding ceremonies started in the evening.. I figured the guests had just started to arrive one by one, friends, relatives all of whom would be living under the same roof. For the next 5 days we would &amp;nbsp;all stay in this house, the wedding venue, the party venue, everyone and every event would be right here, in this big, old white bungalow.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
After freshening up I stepped out of the room into the attached balcony that faced the front portion of the house.A soft breeze was blowing, it was still early in the day so the weather felt rather cool and crisp. I looked around to see the skyline, it was not much,this house was located in a quite posh locality about 2 kilometres from the famous bhopal lake,clean roads lined by gulmohar trees and the presence of not more than 50 similar bungalows. This house where I stood was one of the oldest and the prettiest in the area, with magnificent iron gates at the entrance opening to huge front lawns holding beds of&amp;nbsp;in-numerous flowers, perfect green grass and a spacious driveway leading into the house building. As I would later explore to find that Boori aunty even had a small kitchen garden at the backyard where they grew some staple vegetables to be cooked fresh and there is also a &amp;nbsp;lovely terrace tastefully maintained for anyone who would want to sit there at leisure. Somehow I had got used to concrete apartments, a technology based life and a certain lack of garden space in the ultra modern city home where I spent most of &amp;nbsp;my childhood, maybe that is the reason so much open space, greenery and old -world aesthetics fascinated me.&lt;br /&gt;
After the unexpected warm welcome and a &amp;nbsp;relaxing bath I already felt home standing at the balcony of the house,a part of me felt happy my parents brought me along. Something was very positive about the air, I liked it here. Baba joined me in the balcony, giving me a smile that he wears when he knows I&#39;m enjoying myself, I affirmatively smiled back at him, and we looked down towards the front lawns. A stage was being built, poles were being fixed in the ground for a canopy tent, hundreds of baskets of flowers were being brought in for decorations, preparation for celebration was in full swing. Moments later as I was in the middle of conversation with baba about the decor, we were distracted by a distant rumbling noise on the road ,it seemed to be the roar of an automobile engine. I heard the noise approach in our direction when suddenly a bike flew inside the gate along the driveway at a speed that I feel only batman would risk and braked to stop inches away from the inside door, dodging a few people on its way. A startled baba looked intently from the balcony trying to recognize the rider and based on my father&#39;s sudden interest in the person, I looked in that direction too with curiosity. The biker was a young man seemingly in his 20&#39;s I noticed, and as he got down I saw Boori aunty rushing towards him and talking to him with expressions as if he was someone very known to her, maybe someone from the host family. Just as I was playing detective, baba put to rest my over analytical brain by simply recalling who this young man was and informing me thus. &quot; Keya, I don&#39;t believe how much the boy has grown, beyond recognition. I don&#39;t think you will have much memory of him, it&#39;s Deep! Alok uncle&#39;s younger son, Shreya didi&#39;s bhai .He was just 9 or 10 when I had last seen him, aah!Let me go find your Ma and catch up with the rest of the family members, we would be meeting so many people of this family after so many years, this is going to be great, you come too darling when you feel like, we will introduce you to everyone,there will be many girls and guys your age here,get ready and come down, till then me and your mom are downstairs with all the relatives.&quot; with that baba left the balcony searching for my mother. I continued looking down towards the lawn. A man arranging the tables worriedly called out from the lawns, &quot; Aree Deep!! where had you gone?We need more tables, didn&#39;t you inform the tent wala?&quot;, I observed an unusually jumpy deep leave his bike on stand,walk on the grass towards the worried man and calm him down with a pat and a hand gesture which seemed like a promise to set everything in order before time only if they trusted him. His body language was that of a man at ease and who is confident about his surroundings, a happy-go-lucky sorts, interesting person. Suddenly I realized that my over analytical brain had observed ,analysed and judged an unfamiliar person, a stranger in mere 3 mins from a short but significant distance which made me seem so silly that I started laughing at myself. My laughter must have been really loud because suddenly a pair of eyes looked up from the grass towards the balcony where I stood. For a moment Deep wondered who I was and the next moment looked away,indifferent.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/197105302491508789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/05/1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/197105302491508789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/197105302491508789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/05/1.html' title='1.'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-7531955950277607079</id><published>2012-04-27T12:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-04-27T12:18:14.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wishlist</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Buying a coloring book and to just color&lt;br /&gt;
A trip to Rome&lt;br /&gt;
to land my dream job tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;
Riding a cycle around the city&lt;br /&gt;
Reading a complete book while staying in the hills&lt;br /&gt;
Visiting Kashmir again&lt;br /&gt;
Eating lobsters till I can&#39;t anymore.. and some more seafood after that&lt;br /&gt;
just sing !! sing out loud and shout like a fool&lt;br /&gt;
buy myself shoes . lots of them!&lt;br /&gt;
to find love again&lt;br /&gt;
to have a studio apartment and decorate it my way, making it home!&lt;br /&gt;
to gift mom dad a cruise trip&lt;br /&gt;
to smile at strangers like an idiot&lt;br /&gt;
to babysit a small baby for 2 days, preferably a girl :)))&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/7531955950277607079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/04/wishlist.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/7531955950277607079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/7531955950277607079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/04/wishlist.html' title='Wishlist'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-2981333606944788352</id><published>2012-04-19T01:32:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2012-04-20T23:18:03.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Acceptance</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
When we love, we give birth to tremendous pain. Nothing remains constant in this world , the only truth that remains constant is the pain of loss,of failure,of defeat, of death. Nobody has asked us to go through life in any certain way, the wise human did not take birth with a rule book in hand, no one asked us to create relationships in our surroundings, because even nature knows that with the creation of a bond comes the ultimate truth of its inevitable end, if not today then one day. Yet with time our species evolved into a nurturing kind, the kind with an unusual attachment to their surroundings,today we build families, live in community, provide and care for the ones near us, we let them become our dear ones, we love, love and love and yet we fear loss of the same love all the time, ALL THE TIME! Does that mean that we should not love at all? Something constantly pushes us to feel, and to care no matter at what cost.... When I first came to life, I entered into a pool relationships that had existed much before I did, I became a daughter, a grand-daughter, a sister, a niece, I became so many things without even asking, and I felt a natural urge to care and to nurture these relationships as I grew up.With more time, I became a friend, a neighbour, a lover and so much more &amp;nbsp;and with that, the emotions , the love, the belonging, only adding as I go on.. and there exists this soft fear, a natural fear that would never go, this fear that keeps me so strongly attached to my people...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
So if I lose any one of these relationships I cry, my heart breaks, It pains. Can I put an end to this pain somehow? I can if I break away from these relationships.The only way out is leaving everything behind and go away in pilgrimage, become a saint, give up from the material world and live like the soul without boundaries, without relationships. If I can do that, I may not suffer from pain, but there again is a doubt that I may.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Sometimes when we lose a dear one to death, we feel it is the end, that we had never asked for it, we never wanted this to happen and that we should not be going through something so horrible, but we forget that the day we started to bond with that person we took on a truth alongside, an ugly truth, that every beginning has an end, every sentence has a finish, every dawn has a dusk,every win brings something to lose and by giving birth to love,we give birth to pain. It aches to come to terms with an absence,with a sudden withdrawal of life and no matter how much we try,one does not have power over the cycle of life and destiny.. yes.. its overwhelming..&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
If I have chosen to live a full life, full of dreams, ambitions, plans, relationships then I will have to accept &amp;nbsp;that we have to go through this life with our entire body, heart and soul ,out of the blue we may at times lose what is most precious to us, but we must be ready to go through that pain of separation,we must accept the fear of loss,acceptance is the word. Till the day I am alive I wish to live as much as I can, I will laugh, smile, cry, worry, care, dream, feel, think, plan, prepare and so on...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Above all I wish to love with all my heart, with an aching and fearful heart, with a strong and fearless heart , holding an understanding with nature that when we love,we surely give birth to pain.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/2981333606944788352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/04/fear-of-loss.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/2981333606944788352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/2981333606944788352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/04/fear-of-loss.html' title='Acceptance'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-1388282422903230083</id><published>2012-04-15T01:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-04-16T10:42:06.915-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
I wake up to a day this bare&lt;br /&gt;
I searched everywhere,&lt;br /&gt;
they weren&#39;t there, weren&#39;t there.&lt;br /&gt;
Last night lay prayed this be a dream&lt;br /&gt;
they went away someplace it seems&lt;br /&gt;
not once did I shut my silent heart&lt;br /&gt;
from hope we weren&#39;t yet that far apart&lt;br /&gt;
would hold their hand when they come along&lt;br /&gt;
do they feel we wouldn&#39;t wait, so wrong&lt;br /&gt;
left without concern, not even a goodbye&lt;br /&gt;
to give me one more day,why couldn&#39;t they try&lt;br /&gt;
as if we are nothing but a living lie&lt;br /&gt;
I woke up again to a day so bare&lt;br /&gt;
they weren&#39;t there, really weren&#39;t there&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/1388282422903230083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/04/i-wake-up-to-day-so-bare-they-werent.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/1388282422903230083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/1388282422903230083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/04/i-wake-up-to-day-so-bare-they-werent.html' title=''/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-1758802339469378093</id><published>2012-04-11T10:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-04-12T03:15:33.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rains clearing the sky</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
25 year old Sky looked up and gazed at the grey heavens from her window,absent mindedly her fingers traced the shapes of each cloud passing by, it no more ached to play this game she had taught Brishti 10 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;
It was an unusual day, a surprise shower spell at dawn brought respite from the unbearable heat the city was experiencing since the past couple of months. Waking up to a beautiful drizzle and a soft breeze,sky knew she wanted this day to herself, without further delay she called up her office to take leave,cancelled every task planned for the day and asked the maid not to show up.&lt;br /&gt;
Just as she was waking up Bilal with a morning hug the doorbell rang,while walking towards the living room sky playfully informed him of her plan for the day at a stretch, that firstly,she won&#39;t cook a single meal today, he would have to buy lunch from his office canteen, no household chores would be done, no dusting, no laundry, dinner would be ordered,and lastly, it was mandatory that he buy her flowers this evening for no reason. It was the newspaper at the door, shutting the front door,she quickly scanned the front page like everyday only with an unusual squeal &quot;Omg Bila! Look what sachin&#39;s done to his hair, ha ha! You need that haircut soon.&quot; Bilal ,still half asleep,yawned and stretched on the mattress wondering why his wife was being so ridiculously free-spirited this morning. Lazily as he stepped out of bed and stepped towards the bedroom window he saw the weather. Ah! It was raining ,he felt a packet of happiness,imagining the blissful cool air he&#39;ll breath with his car windows down on his way to office today.&lt;br /&gt;
He called out for his cup of tea, sky sharply responded &quot;self service!!&quot; from the living room as her voice cascaded &amp;nbsp;into a full throated Asha Bhosle classic. &quot;What is wrong with you funny woman!!?&quot; he teasingly asked her while going to the kitchen to get his morning caffeine dose. Standing in front of the boiling kettle a smirking Bilal recalled how much Sky,his best friend and companion since the age of 4,had loved monsoon as a child,how the three of them would run around in the rain and roll around in puddles of mud in the society park for hours,they would try to scare the croaking frogs away to nowhere and grin like little devils for no reason. Happy times in rainy days.&lt;br /&gt;
A moment later his heart skipped a beat as he suddenly realized what was so strange about the morning,how could he have overlooked? Sky who for the past 3 years shut every window of the house whenever the clouds approached was in love with the weather today. Sky finally was welcoming rain.Does this mean she was clearing finally, he felt a surge of emotions riding up his spine as he watched how much she had healed, he wanted to ask if he was right but decided against it, was this day the epiphany they were all waiting for? Maybe today&amp;nbsp;it would no more ache if he mentioned Brishti again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After Bilal had left for office,the entire house and time to herself ,sky was the limit for sky. But unlike other times, today she preferred to sit&amp;nbsp;quietly&amp;nbsp;in the balcony adjacent to the living room with a steaming cup of coffee,staring at the natural creek that was visible clearly from their apartment on the 14th floor. A lovely wind was blowing through her air, giving her goosebumps.Thankfully,the direction of the wind was friendly to her, it was blowing the drizzle away from the balcony so she could remain their calmly as long as she wanted without worrying about getting wet.It was as if nature was making sure she sits and watches with comfort. The softness of the daylight soothed her as she sipped hot coffee and marveled at the beautiful view.&lt;br /&gt;
They had shifted in this apartment about 2 years back, but by then she had lost the key to her love for nature, for beauty, for small things, for many things.She never sat in this balcony in these 2 years, never appreciated the view. Bilal never insisted, he understood. Every day while leaving for her office,she would ritually give the house a quick glance standing in the middle of the living room but never for more than 2 minutes.She was always busy, she made sure she was.&lt;br /&gt;
In their college days,confessing his love for her, Bilal had promised to buy a special home once they were married,they had laughed and laughed about his innocent promise,those days Sky had been living a dream. Their mother had jokingly revealed to her much later that fearing rejection,to play safe, Bilal had even consulted 14 year old Brishti to know how Sky felt about him. Brishti had been quite the counsellor to the young man hopelessly in love with her sister. After all as next door neighbours, Bila along with Sky had grown up playing with Brishti since she was a baby. She was special to him too.&lt;br /&gt;
Once everything worked out how excited she had been about their love, Her joy had known no bounds, jumping around Brishti had exclaimed &quot;Di, Do you have any idea how lucky you are?! how many get to end up in love with their first best friend? that too adorable Bila. I,your one and only sister, approve of him.I&#39;m sure uncle and aunty would grab the first opportunity to have you as their daughter- in- law, you do know you are beautiful, don&#39;t you?.. I still have a lot of scope of course, but my God! I still can&#39;t believe you are in love! In a few years you&#39;re going to see a beautiful Brishti just in time for your marriage, I&#39;ll flirt with the handsome boys!! and if Bila does keep his promise of that special home for you, I get a room for myself where I can sleep for years if I wish and you promise to cook for me all the food in the world I wish to eat once I wake up, Do we have deal then?...oh and......&quot; the girl had not stopped speaking that day.&lt;br /&gt;
An involuntary smile had cropped up on her face as Sky looked back to that conversation now, she had never imagined that this day would come..that with time it would no more ache to sit in the rain thinking about her..She had cried for long, she had to let go.. or may be patiently keep moving on.&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Atleast,Bila kept his promise&quot; she cheerfully said to herself swirling the last bit of coffee in the mug, realizing the drink had lost its heat,she gulped down the last mouthful giving the distant creek a long stare.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After spending the entire afternoon in the balcony, Sky took a deep peaceful nap in her bedroom in the evening. &amp;nbsp;Her mobile phone silently buzzed but she couldn&#39;t care less. Afresh by the time the streetlights lit up, she lit a couple of aroma candles one buys enthusiastically during a shopping spree only to store them up for endless time, Diwali after Diwali.Sky had done nothing all day, for a workaholic like her, the day itself had done a lot to Sky. Bilal came home with a bunch of lilies just the way she liked, no fancy wraps, no ribbons, just the flowers as if he had handpicked them from a garden. Her eyes sparkled at his sight, he was glad. After freshening up, he smoked his evening cigarette leaning against balcony railing, he checked if the drizzle had ceased yet, it hadn&#39;t. It was surely an unusual day.&lt;br /&gt;
He called out to sky to tell her how his day went,one of the many husband wife rituals.while he finished his smoke she joined him and waited patiently next to him. Finally putting out the butt in the ashtray Bilal started,&quot;I went to see Ma today during lunchtime, Your Ma was also there, they were having lunch together I figured. It was so comforting to sit with them and talk. After a long time, I saw a remarkable positivity in the air. Ma kept asking me&amp;nbsp;to try bringing you along&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;I will go Bila,I will,now I can&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Really? will you? Baba too really wishes you visit home&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Hmmmm, I will, &amp;nbsp;nothing&#39;s impossible to deal with I guess,&amp;nbsp;so, are they all well?&quot; Sky asked ,&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;yes, everyone is just fine&quot; ,&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;ha! can&#39;t be everyone!&quot; ,&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Everyone sky! in both houses, everyone. By the way how did you spend your day?&quot;,&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;I did nothing, just like I had wished. I noticed the creek, It&#39;s so beautiful. I just watched....Bila, it&#39;s time, I am ready.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
Bilal at first couldn&#39;t figure out what exactly she was talking about, but eventually he did.Wrapping his arms around her he lovingly asked, &quot; You really want us to have a baby?&quot;,&lt;br /&gt;
she looked in his eyes with confusion, &quot;don&#39;t you?&quot; to which Bilal laughed and replied , &quot;I even have a name for our kid, I have been ready since the day I married you wifey!&quot;. They smiled and he kissed her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3 years ago,when Brishti wouldn&#39;t open her eyes in the morning, it was beyond belief what had happened to her,doctors couldn&#39;t tell how she could have slipped into coma without any major illness,she had merely gone to bed the night before..No one could explain,no treatment had helped. It was a rare condition medical language informed. Young Brishti just slept as her hysterical family looked on. It had become unbearable a sight to watch a lifeless body day in day out.Sky had refused to go back home even once since the day she got married. After they shifted home,Bilal payed regular visits to the parents and was her only source of &amp;nbsp;news about the conditions at home,only to push her into an impossible emptiness everytime he updated her.&lt;br /&gt;
Today,after 2 years of gathering courage, past the fear, she was ready now to meet her unconscious little sister again. She was past the horror they were thrown into for no reason,past the pain of sitting and watching on as her little doll wouldn&#39;t choose to die, she would no more ask for explanations from the internet, from god, from anyone who was alive and listening. she would no more try to shake her back to life with tremors of pain running down her entire being. She would no more endlessly stay up nights hoping for the slightest movement.She would no more cry and beg Brishti to open her eyes just once to see her Di as a bride. Time had pushed everyone to accept what they saw.Sky was strong now, taking her day off to watch the weather was to assure herself that she would no more cringe with pain as monsoon reminded her of a name she so fondly gave her baby sister.&lt;br /&gt;
It was time to &amp;nbsp;let her sister sleep for as long as she wished and If she ever wakes up,Sky would cook for her just like she had promised. Sky had learnt to be truly happy again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The clouds roared as Bilal held Sky with all his passion, a name ringing in their hearts like never before,&lt;br /&gt;
It poured all night long as they made love, they felt they would give birth to a daughter,their key to a new life and it would no longer ache to name her Brishti.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/1758802339469378093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/04/rains-clearing-sky.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/1758802339469378093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/1758802339469378093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/04/rains-clearing-sky.html' title='Rains clearing the sky'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-722026658534450873</id><published>2012-04-10T12:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-04-11T02:19:20.867-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Craft</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
Why don&#39;t I crumble down and fall to bite the dust,&lt;br /&gt;
Why don&#39;t I shatter within by just the slightest thrust?&lt;br /&gt;
How was I not torn apart by the end of a raging storm&lt;br /&gt;
Why can&#39;t I scatter away, am I not a weathering form?&lt;br /&gt;
See what you created Lord ,watch your wonder be&lt;br /&gt;
why don&#39;t I just melt away like ice into the sea?&lt;br /&gt;
Did you plan to make for me every layer with care,&lt;br /&gt;
Why can&#39;t I blame you Lord, for my painful share?&lt;br /&gt;
How do I bear the truth as my heart threatens to sink?&lt;br /&gt;
This time I&#39;ll die of an aching heart,each time that&#39;s all I think&lt;br /&gt;
Do you pour water for me so I live through summer day&lt;br /&gt;
Lord,why don&#39;t I burst to flames in the burning month of may?&lt;br /&gt;
why don&#39;t I dry up like a river,why don&#39;t I weep for long?&lt;br /&gt;
How do I reach for a smile again,How is a mortal so strong?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/722026658534450873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/04/why-dont-i-crumble-down-and-fall-to.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/722026658534450873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/722026658534450873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/04/why-dont-i-crumble-down-and-fall-to.html' title='Craft'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-2767444333980345521</id><published>2012-04-10T07:25:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2012-04-10T09:48:38.247-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Better half</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;He calls you names, then makes you laugh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;who is this being with a confusing half?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;Plays wrestling games, designs a dream car&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;His mother,the woman, his real rockstar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;She&#39;ll one day tell you the way to his heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;How food can be the end and food the start&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;He goes to school grumpy like a neat little thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;only to return muddy, bruised, a victorious grin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;Someday he may sit within books like a worm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;Someday he&#39;d promise to study from next term&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;The first time his young chin held a crop of hair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;feeling like a man, he gave the mirror a proud stare&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;Once a lost friend came calling, knowing what to find&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;They united like time was never lost, past never mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;he grows up a fighter,with the grace of a lightning beam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;strength at test, at his best,when he fights for all his dreams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;He&#39;ll never tell what is held behind those blinking eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;they could be wise thoughts,and they could be blinding lies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;He doesn&#39;t dwell on matters or contemplate too much&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;always lives the moment,believing only what he can touch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;He hears every spoken word with the patience of a hill&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;He is aware of his restless heart trying to hold him still&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;Why the chase? his thrilling maze,she never finds her way through&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;breaks her heart like a piece of art,while singing her songs of blue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;She can&#39;t help but fall in love with his engaging witty charm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;Logic failed to serve the man,with the woman he loves in his arm..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;An action buff, he thinks he&#39;s tough,cried when his child he held&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;The father in him wanted to protect, a way he never before felt..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;So who is this being with a confusing half ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;Makes you cry,then makes you laugh..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;He isn&#39;t the clarity but the questions we need&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;He is the understanding of an unexpected deed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;Digging deep for him may not help us know,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;most times he&#39;s the surface,not far away,just a stone throw&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;He brings light midway,brings heat midway to cold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;The man in his hour, a king to his power,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;without whom,the woman a tale halfway told&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/2767444333980345521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/04/better-half.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/2767444333980345521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/2767444333980345521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/04/better-half.html' title='The Better half'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-2120213357087930145</id><published>2012-04-02T01:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-04-02T02:17:14.312-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
I can reveal my beauty more so now &lt;br /&gt;


you are so beautiful, I&#39;d stay still in vow&lt;br /&gt;


Holding my veil to cover those crystal eyes&lt;br /&gt;


you are so beautiful , makes me laugh and cry&lt;br /&gt;


Lips still hide words fighting hard to flow&lt;br /&gt;


But never to let you know, not to hold you so&lt;br /&gt;


Would you keep me from slipping into love&lt;br /&gt;


I go to sleep with my tiny dreams hung above&lt;br /&gt;


Song after song the pages hold to be sung aloud &lt;br /&gt;


To beautiful you , I promised silence in crowd&lt;br /&gt;


I recall life then asking for a journey to set free &lt;br /&gt;


Times ahead,our paths branching out we could see &lt;br /&gt;


Bidding farewell, you packed in some of our hues&lt;br /&gt;


Above every color there is, beautiful you I&#39;d choose&lt;br /&gt;


How I wished and prayed we are destined to belong&lt;br /&gt;


you&#39;re so beautiful, won&#39;t mind my wait going wrong&lt;br /&gt;


Live strong in your waters, fly in your own home skies&lt;br /&gt;


Even thoughts of you feel alive in return of sincere sighs&lt;br /&gt;


I still wake up smiling everyday holding an empty chest&lt;br /&gt;


For beautiful you my heart chooses to wander in quest..&lt;br /&gt;


&lt;br /&gt;


&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/2120213357087930145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/04/love.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/2120213357087930145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/2120213357087930145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/04/love.html' title='Love'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-1738005451353426833</id><published>2012-03-21T08:47:00.014-07:00</published><updated>2012-04-09T23:42:47.197-07:00</updated><title type='text'>when &#39;Dear Diary&#39; grows up ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQWCvB7i219x0qBYT69UYGuSGEvsDbtOndoJxDaXjtPJGE0I54ywyfawLN_p0i12rsgVkZQ9Xd_cwF2ohU3b1n5ubHh55sLg8BcNTv-eFEf8DEyYTk8pCfhN8IM0VT-gCalgBKS9awyFuw/s1600/diary-cover.png&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722424475304957906&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQWCvB7i219x0qBYT69UYGuSGEvsDbtOndoJxDaXjtPJGE0I54ywyfawLN_p0i12rsgVkZQ9Xd_cwF2ohU3b1n5ubHh55sLg8BcNTv-eFEf8DEyYTk8pCfhN8IM0VT-gCalgBKS9awyFuw/s320/diary-cover.png&quot; style=&quot;cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 313px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 217px;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Trebuchet MS&#39;, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Bring your true mindful word to me&lt;br /&gt;I will listen like a patient friend,&lt;br /&gt;Get all the ink you have.. but forgive&lt;br /&gt;the absence of the mirroring trend...&lt;br /&gt;enriching stories,yes,wonderful so far&lt;br /&gt;someone surely should pen them down&lt;br /&gt;but It&#39;s way past the printing hour..&lt;br /&gt;Oh! My friend I fret,you must understand&lt;br /&gt;I cannot be written on this time because&lt;br /&gt;I am not an active diary anymore in hand...&lt;br /&gt;Searching a blank page won&#39;t serve you well&lt;br /&gt;Yes, In the wee hours, if you like to read&lt;br /&gt;I do hold good thoughts, and memories to tell..&lt;br /&gt;Do you realize, I am safely bound by leather&lt;br /&gt;helping brittle pages survive changing weather...&lt;br /&gt;Cannot be vain, as I am a small bit of the whole,&lt;br /&gt;yet,afraid I&#39;m replete with elements of a brimming soul&lt;br /&gt;One day you created me in naivety to the core&lt;br /&gt;Today wiser lay I, protecting secrets safely stored..&lt;br /&gt;But you must realize little more than the biting truth&lt;br /&gt;I might be the planted seed,also the tree bearing fruit&lt;br /&gt;Living in library I sit quiet on the wooden rack&lt;br /&gt;spared of the tireless pen that inked me front to back..&lt;br /&gt;My friend, there&#39;s more to write of the new world&lt;br /&gt;slowly and urgently fresh pages need to be sought,&lt;br /&gt;Flip through, in me might lay a key to the next thought&lt;br /&gt;sure can borrow me for a day, spend time if you must&lt;br /&gt;as I insist you realize now, that I am not&lt;br /&gt;just a diary any longer, Not the present&lt;br /&gt;but like history, a completion of time to trust.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/1738005451353426833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/03/when-dear-diary-grows-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/1738005451353426833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/1738005451353426833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/03/when-dear-diary-grows-up.html' title='when &#39;Dear Diary&#39; grows up ...'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQWCvB7i219x0qBYT69UYGuSGEvsDbtOndoJxDaXjtPJGE0I54ywyfawLN_p0i12rsgVkZQ9Xd_cwF2ohU3b1n5ubHh55sLg8BcNTv-eFEf8DEyYTk8pCfhN8IM0VT-gCalgBKS9awyFuw/s72-c/diary-cover.png" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-5786433372803695606</id><published>2012-02-23T22:13:00.009-08:00</published><updated>2012-03-03T05:57:21.780-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spiritual High!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu4y22tB_e5gvTplRtLLvjsaI3eGA_U818mv5qoRChSYCGrgFafsOQi8wif5KC9VJAi-6YCWu6OfddhqwoF0CEcx2fTbIRgeM5Cu8JHdJ3ou6-6PWfyqsiTG5oerSR1A7U_QM8ktnR2Lpw/s1600/piano-keys.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu4y22tB_e5gvTplRtLLvjsaI3eGA_U818mv5qoRChSYCGrgFafsOQi8wif5KC9VJAi-6YCWu6OfddhqwoF0CEcx2fTbIRgeM5Cu8JHdJ3ou6-6PWfyqsiTG5oerSR1A7U_QM8ktnR2Lpw/s400/piano-keys.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5712610001321752050&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are times when we feel uncomfortably peaceful, soft.. calm and ever so content...almost in an unreal way.. One may call it a &quot;spiritual high!&quot; .. Magical!&lt;br /&gt;These times come like the air we feel during shift in seasons, pleasantly warm after a freezing winter.. pleasantly cool after a scorching summer.. whenever it may be.. these times surely make you feel new&lt;br /&gt;I am going through such times right now and I wonder what brought me here ... Life, destiny, time? or just me?&lt;br /&gt;What I sense here is an immense sense of belief and vastness.. like a small boat sailing with the breeze devoid of worries.. yes it knows it can sink but then such are the times that it couldn&#39;t care less... Feels like I&#39;m back in my childhood.. yes those were beautiful times too...&lt;br /&gt;I know in the past few years I have come through turbulent times, felt loss.. pain.. agony.. spent sleepless nights and often asked the universe &quot;why am I going through this?..why me?&quot; Those were the times when I lost friendships, love and in some ways my belief in self ...I fought with loved ones, misunderstood criticism, lashed out at anyone showing me the mirror, cried my heart out yet did not know why...Those were the times when I knew who I was but yet did not have faith in who I was or could be..&lt;br /&gt;I was impulsive, rash, confused and did not see anything with clarity.. nothing.. but yes , if there was one thing I have always kept that would be a clear conscience.. I have been an open book and always will be..&lt;br /&gt;Those were the times when I found real people .. who cared ... I came to know why family is the prime source of our happiness.. why they say that true friends are rare and precious.. how by Loving yourself you can truly and unconditionally love others .. and how Change is really the only Constant in life...&lt;br /&gt;Yes those were difficult times for me .. but maybe without going through that, I could have never evolved..and grown...  Now when I look back.. I only just smile ! :)&lt;br /&gt;Surely tough times are going to come again.. but then I hope to be stronger and that too shall pass..&lt;br /&gt;Also,regardless of what times these are.. good or bad.. happiness and satisfaction are in our own heart and mind , no one can give you what already lies within.. Like A gardener can only water the plants but the flowers have to bloom themselves..&lt;br /&gt;A loved one can only be with us their way, opportunities and success would come in their own time, Life would treat you uniquely everyday... but, whether that is enough is yours to feel...&lt;br /&gt;Breath in!&lt;br /&gt;So Today, here I am...feeling light..free.. dreamy  and full of possibilities :))</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/5786433372803695606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/02/there-are-times-when-we-feel.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/5786433372803695606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/5786433372803695606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/02/there-are-times-when-we-feel.html' title='Spiritual High!'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu4y22tB_e5gvTplRtLLvjsaI3eGA_U818mv5qoRChSYCGrgFafsOQi8wif5KC9VJAi-6YCWu6OfddhqwoF0CEcx2fTbIRgeM5Cu8JHdJ3ou6-6PWfyqsiTG5oerSR1A7U_QM8ktnR2Lpw/s72-c/piano-keys.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-8713234682905324661</id><published>2012-02-05T10:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-05T10:41:21.068-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Till then..</title><content type='html'>Till The rain touches the ground ..&lt;br /&gt;Till lightning waits for its sound..&lt;br /&gt;Till the ripples make their way ..&lt;br /&gt;Till Night prepares for day..&lt;br /&gt;Till  we reach where we belong..&lt;br /&gt;Till we write the pending song..&lt;br /&gt;Till I watch them break into a smile&lt;br /&gt;Till I walk to them the first mile&lt;br /&gt;Till eyes slip to reveal the unknown&lt;br /&gt;Till I rush to pick the telephone&lt;br /&gt;Till the child waits for a ride&lt;br /&gt;Till it is time to kiss the bride&lt;br /&gt;Till every feeling circulates within&lt;br /&gt;Till I find out how they have been&lt;br /&gt;Till my letter is opened and read&lt;br /&gt;Till They read what I leave unsaid&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/8713234682905324661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/02/till-then.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/8713234682905324661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/8713234682905324661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/02/till-then.html' title='Till then..'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3011934183735662057.post-3780925413056110564</id><published>2012-02-03T21:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-04T10:28:04.493-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shraddha</title><content type='html'>Now we reach the time .. time to leave&lt;br /&gt;I found you then.. I&#39;ll Find you again&lt;br /&gt;You&#39;re a page where a story began&lt;br /&gt;You&#39;re my friend .. I&#39;m yours as much as I can&lt;br /&gt;I could hold on and I will.. will you not?&lt;br /&gt;coz we laughed and cared every time we fought&lt;br /&gt;two years alive.. memories fill me up&lt;br /&gt;Could last a lifetime.. hold the brimming cup&lt;br /&gt;Our minds don&#39;t meet at times..&lt;br /&gt;we don&#39;t laugh at funny rhymes...&lt;br /&gt;We could bitch all through the night&lt;br /&gt;We could just smile at our very first sight&lt;br /&gt;I could make you cry and shed tears myself&lt;br /&gt;I could be a wicked bitch.. you could be a silly elf&lt;br /&gt;All this while we have not been too perfect&lt;br /&gt;But perfection is not what we look for&lt;br /&gt;I know you better than you think I assure&lt;br /&gt;We could really push and stay away..&lt;br /&gt;But I would rather pull and just stay..&lt;br /&gt;Shraddha this could be our silly song&lt;br /&gt;I may not be right.. you may not be wrong&lt;br /&gt;before a new beginning.. before we bid adieu&lt;br /&gt;This would be my way of saying &quot; I do love you&quot;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/feeds/3780925413056110564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/02/now-we-reach-time.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/3780925413056110564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3011934183735662057/posts/default/3780925413056110564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atreyewrites.blogspot.com/2012/02/now-we-reach-time.html' title='Shraddha'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12797021579772255457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>