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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4CRX05cCp7ImA9WhRUFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903</id><updated>2012-01-25T00:19:24.328+05:30</updated><category term="corporate life" /><category term="poetry" /><category term="technology" /><category term="happiness" /><category term="Internet" /><category term="Art" /><category term="philosophy" /><category term="fiction" /><category term="internet advertising" /><category term="life" /><title>Vinayak Gole</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>38</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/VinayakGole" /><feedburner:info uri="vinayakgole" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUICQns6eCp7ImA9WhRTFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-3874398915942359773</id><published>2011-11-06T23:49:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-11-06T23:49:23.510+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-06T23:49:23.510+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Art" /><title>The Heart</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2PCVK-TU9MtyEUYsEF6LsQy0-OI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2PCVK-TU9MtyEUYsEF6LsQy0-OI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f23wrJzjeFg/TrbNxxeuHcI/AAAAAAAABjQ/PJCMx9MGuSM/s1600/The+human+heart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f23wrJzjeFg/TrbNxxeuHcI/AAAAAAAABjQ/PJCMx9MGuSM/s320/The+human+heart.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Heart is funny. It has its share of sins and it has its share of benevolence. Its weird how the fight is constant. With different emotions playing, love, hate, peace, restlessness, ambition, pain, passion, compassion, revenge, forgiveness, the heart is perhaps the most complex repertoire of moods. An angel sometimes and sometimes, the devil himself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-3874398915942359773?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/OlsBlF56WWQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/3874398915942359773/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/11/heart.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/3874398915942359773?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/3874398915942359773?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/OlsBlF56WWQ/heart.html" title="The Heart" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f23wrJzjeFg/TrbNxxeuHcI/AAAAAAAABjQ/PJCMx9MGuSM/s72-c/The+human+heart.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/11/heart.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEICR387fCp7ImA9WhRTFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-5947027184550200967</id><published>2011-11-06T23:32:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2011-11-06T23:32:46.104+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-06T23:32:46.104+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Art" /><title>Why</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nrY1zMlkEaopeI5y0uULTHRWdoE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nrY1zMlkEaopeI5y0uULTHRWdoE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nrY1zMlkEaopeI5y0uULTHRWdoE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nrY1zMlkEaopeI5y0uULTHRWdoE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8Z1ubCDUBpc/TrbLjTZ7x1I/AAAAAAAABjA/_6Zs8FiENEs/s1600/why.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8Z1ubCDUBpc/TrbLjTZ7x1I/AAAAAAAABjA/_6Zs8FiENEs/s320/why.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have no clue why I did this one. But I guess, that's how the word spells out. Why. There are no reasons and no answers why we do certain things. Or why certain things happen to us. And we are left asking. "Why?"&lt;br /&gt;
But every "Why" has a flip side, a side which is a lesson, a learning. And I guess that's what I have tried in this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-5947027184550200967?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/jLAlxcA5T84" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/5947027184550200967/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/11/why.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/5947027184550200967?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/5947027184550200967?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/jLAlxcA5T84/why.html" title="Why" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8Z1ubCDUBpc/TrbLjTZ7x1I/AAAAAAAABjA/_6Zs8FiENEs/s72-c/why.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/11/why.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUUMQXwzcCp7ImA9WhdaEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-6828244839278421545</id><published>2011-10-19T22:24:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-10-19T22:24:40.288+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-19T22:24:40.288+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Internet" /><title>The best place for Diwali Shopping: The internet</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eP-jQtIK-wlx-hmIwu9EsokJip8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eP-jQtIK-wlx-hmIwu9EsokJip8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eP-jQtIK-wlx-hmIwu9EsokJip8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eP-jQtIK-wlx-hmIwu9EsokJip8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7h-r_rmUi-c/Tp8AhgCFytI/AAAAAAAABiM/XjLNdyAURDY/s1600/Diwali+shopping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7h-r_rmUi-c/Tp8AhgCFytI/AAAAAAAABiM/XjLNdyAURDY/s200/Diwali+shopping.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;"&gt;Diwali, the festival of lights brings
with it the festive spirit, the choicest sweets and the lightest of pockets.
The unprecedented rush to get the best from the irresistible offers and discounts
often undermines the intuitive power to save. After all its festival time. But
then like Deepika used to say in the immortal Nirma advertisement, &lt;i&gt;"Jab wahi jhaag, wahi safedi, kam daam
mein mile toh koi yeh kyon le, woh na le?"&lt;/i&gt;. Exactly my point. When you
get the same stuff for a lesser rate, why splurge in huge showrooms in malls,
when you can do the same from the comfort of your home? Yes that’s right, it’s
time to turn on the computer and get online. Some of the best places to shop
this Diwali are:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. Flipkart&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
One of the pioneers of e commerce in India, Flipkart started out as an
online store for books before maturing into a full blown e commerce site. The
navigation through the site is interactive and use friendly and they even offer
a return policy in case you do not like a particular purchase. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flipkart.com/"&gt;www.flipkart.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;2. Yebhi&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
Yebhi is one of the recent entrants into the online shopping space, the
site started out as a marketplace for shoes. Growing slowly but steadily since
its inception in 2009, the site is one of the best places to check out Diwali
offers this season. Offering a simple and nicely categorised inventory, Yebhi
offers products from electronics to lifestyle.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.yebhi.com/"&gt;http://www.yebhi.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;3. Indiatimes Shopping&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
One of the pioneers of the internet revolution, Indiatimes has been constantly
evolving. The shopping site from the Indian internet major is just as
aesthetically designed as the rest of the offerings from the group. The
transaction setup is robust and secure and the trust that the brand has
developed is on years of fine-tuning the customer friendly policies of the
site. Product choices are a plenty and can range from gift articles to
lifestyle products.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://shopping.indiatimes.com/"&gt;http://shopping.indiatimes.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;4. Myntra&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
Myntra started off as a t-shirt vendor in the emerging online
marketplace. &amp;nbsp;The site blossomed very
well with the e commerce boom in India and currently offers much more than just
apparel. The site nearly has a cult following owing to its fantastic and very
unique t-shirt designs. In its new avatar, Myntra brings forth a completely
redesigned website and an inventory that boasts of everything in apparel.
Featuring some of the best brands, the store is certainly one of the best
places to shop at this Diwali. PS. Don’t forget to check out the ‘Sale’ tab for
some excellent bargains.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.myntra.com/"&gt;http://www.myntra.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;5. Naaptol&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Naaptol started out as a site for comparing
products. A very unique idea that didn’t quite catch on. In its latest version,
the site has metamorphosed beautifully in to a complete online store offering
everything. Yes, everything, featuring everything from electronics to gift
items with some of the best known brands to ones that have never been heard of,
the site has a lot to offer. Currently featuring a Diwali offer, the site makes
for a ‘must visit’ this Diwali.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.naaptol.com/"&gt;http://www.naaptol.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;So, there you go. Shopping made easy,
right at the comfort of your couch with unbelievable discounts and offers. If
you have still been planning on shopping, it’s about time you made a move, of a
finger pointing to the links. Wishing all the readers a very fantastic and a
very Happy Diwali!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-6828244839278421545?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/F0UwE8Wbf74" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/6828244839278421545/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/10/best-place-for-diwali-shopping-internet.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/6828244839278421545?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/6828244839278421545?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/F0UwE8Wbf74/best-place-for-diwali-shopping-internet.html" title="The best place for Diwali Shopping: The internet" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7h-r_rmUi-c/Tp8AhgCFytI/AAAAAAAABiM/XjLNdyAURDY/s72-c/Diwali+shopping.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/10/best-place-for-diwali-shopping-internet.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkANQn46cSp7ImA9WhdUFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-344958881329979968</id><published>2011-10-02T00:15:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-10-02T00:16:33.019+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-02T00:16:33.019+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Art" /><title>Hanuman</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TdvVxyMgZs-XQVx-T7A6-Ni29bU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TdvVxyMgZs-XQVx-T7A6-Ni29bU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TdvVxyMgZs-XQVx-T7A6-Ni29bU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TdvVxyMgZs-XQVx-T7A6-Ni29bU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7G8WIuypuaY/TodfhhKkyXI/AAAAAAAABiI/LWz-RFdAsTQ/s1600/hanuman_big.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7G8WIuypuaY/TodfhhKkyXI/AAAAAAAABiI/LWz-RFdAsTQ/s320/hanuman_big.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;
Another attempt to paint the Monkey God, using Pixlar. I guess I need to practice more...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-344958881329979968?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/2KgIGLp9qWI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/344958881329979968/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/10/another-attempt-to-paint-monkey-god.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/344958881329979968?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/344958881329979968?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/2KgIGLp9qWI/another-attempt-to-paint-monkey-god.html" title="Hanuman" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7G8WIuypuaY/TodfhhKkyXI/AAAAAAAABiI/LWz-RFdAsTQ/s72-c/hanuman_big.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/10/another-attempt-to-paint-monkey-god.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EER3k7cCp7ImA9WhdUFEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-6740360525601222572</id><published>2011-10-01T14:30:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-10-01T14:30:06.708+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-01T14:30:06.708+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Art" /><title>Bal Hanuman</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rk5w0XKND1ohvq-fv2I6huUH100/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rk5w0XKND1ohvq-fv2I6huUH100/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rk5w0XKND1ohvq-fv2I6huUH100/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rk5w0XKND1ohvq-fv2I6huUH100/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E0t7YB0pwsk/ToYKHyVCC3I/AAAAAAAABhs/wtfZodDL6vc/s1600/hanuman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E0t7YB0pwsk/ToYKHyVCC3I/AAAAAAAABhs/wtfZodDL6vc/s320/hanuman.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;
On a Friday night, thought I should have something for the Lord Hanuman, for Saturday. And what could be better than Bal Hanuman rushing after the the Sun God, thinking of him as a fruit. This then is my dedication to the most powerful, the most tough God out there. Jai Veer Hanuman!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-6740360525601222572?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/PCd134NB_QE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/6740360525601222572/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/10/bal-hanuman.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/6740360525601222572?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/6740360525601222572?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/PCd134NB_QE/bal-hanuman.html" title="Bal Hanuman" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E0t7YB0pwsk/ToYKHyVCC3I/AAAAAAAABhs/wtfZodDL6vc/s72-c/hanuman.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/10/bal-hanuman.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUARX4_eyp7ImA9WhdUFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-8520937195398549131</id><published>2011-09-30T23:40:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-09-30T23:40:44.043+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-30T23:40:44.043+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Art" /><title>The Lonely Sea</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HbhVAtj06eALxfVrjgATd892lZ8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HbhVAtj06eALxfVrjgATd892lZ8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HbhVAtj06eALxfVrjgATd892lZ8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HbhVAtj06eALxfVrjgATd892lZ8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1uaWkcHzjes/ToYC9vPLspI/AAAAAAAABho/6PtIxBydDRU/s1600/the+lonely+sea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1uaWkcHzjes/ToYC9vPLspI/AAAAAAAABho/6PtIxBydDRU/s320/the+lonely+sea.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;
Wanted to try out something different with pixlar and couldn't think of anything really nice so decided to just let it flow. Always had this image of a boat struggling against the deadly sea. Wandering, beaten down but never defeated. Waiting to reach the shore. Waiting to live. And somehow it felt so true to our lives, we fight endlessly, with ourselves, our minds, our worlds, believing that someday life would be better. My dedication to all of us mellow fighters down there. Waiting, fighting, struggling, Winning!!!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-8520937195398549131?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/7BdIfkq5NDs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/8520937195398549131/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/09/lonely-sea.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/8520937195398549131?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/8520937195398549131?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/7BdIfkq5NDs/lonely-sea.html" title="The Lonely Sea" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1uaWkcHzjes/ToYC9vPLspI/AAAAAAAABho/6PtIxBydDRU/s72-c/the+lonely+sea.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/09/lonely-sea.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0ADRno9eCp7ImA9WhdUFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-2908908284742710216</id><published>2011-09-30T22:26:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-09-30T22:26:17.460+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-30T22:26:17.460+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Art" /><title>Ganesha</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/el7fJs46yAy3ywk2VeIKqyfM198/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/el7fJs46yAy3ywk2VeIKqyfM198/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/el7fJs46yAy3ywk2VeIKqyfM198/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/el7fJs46yAy3ywk2VeIKqyfM198/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IFG_AFfoe1w/ToXzzxIy2CI/AAAAAAAABhk/AtZFS-sUhCM/s1600/ganapati1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IFG_AFfoe1w/ToXzzxIy2CI/AAAAAAAABhk/AtZFS-sUhCM/s320/ganapati1.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One of my first experiments with Pixlar. My experiments have always been attempts to paint my mind using simple brush strokes. It was Ganesh Chaturthi and the mood was more than festive. As I sat down unaware of what to do with the brush provided, I decided to close my eyes and visualize what was going on in my mind. And all I could think about was the Lord. In all His simplicity, the strokes have brought about my vision of someone whom I have been praying to for the last 14 years. A dedication to someone who is always there.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-2908908284742710216?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/lEgyE1ak3gI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/2908908284742710216/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/09/ganesha.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/2908908284742710216?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/2908908284742710216?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/lEgyE1ak3gI/ganesha.html" title="Ganesha" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IFG_AFfoe1w/ToXzzxIy2CI/AAAAAAAABhk/AtZFS-sUhCM/s72-c/ganapati1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/09/ganesha.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkEGRHo9fCp7ImA9WhdUFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-5232223783915414656</id><published>2011-09-27T09:16:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-10-01T23:07:05.464+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-01T23:07:05.464+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="poetry" /><title>The Ballad of Phoney Gray: First Step</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xPbLd6qhH61Wlonp9o1bHLdlvdM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xPbLd6qhH61Wlonp9o1bHLdlvdM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xPbLd6qhH61Wlonp9o1bHLdlvdM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xPbLd6qhH61Wlonp9o1bHLdlvdM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aqyqnoo8XUQ/ToFGWwDDC6I/AAAAAAAABhg/8Gb9NQrk4eA/s1600/phoney.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aqyqnoo8XUQ/ToFGWwDDC6I/AAAAAAAABhg/8Gb9NQrk4eA/s320/phoney.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: black;"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;Born out on the dull blue floor,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;Growing slowly on chips and more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;Was born he shiny, painfully lone,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;packed in the box, which would be home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;This is the ballad of &lt;a href="http://pda-phone-reviews.in/"&gt;Phoney Gray&lt;/a&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;Made of metal, born in a tray,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;This is the ballad of &lt;a href="http://pda-phone-reviews.in/"&gt;Phoney Gray&lt;/a&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;Silent as is or talking through a ray.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: black;"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;And so Gray rolled out from his China home,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;Dressed in cardboard, packed in foam.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;Still asleep, waiting for day to light,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;Gray laid still, dreams in sight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;

&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;In his dark room, he heard voices strange,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;Sometimes far, sometimes within range.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;They talked about moving him to store,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;To be sold, to be owned, to be abused sore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;And so &lt;a href="http://pda-phone-reviews.in/"&gt;Gray&lt;/a&gt; awoke, from the boring stand,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;Powered to life by the shaking hand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;"He's so pretty" she screamed in
delight,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;"perfect for my darling's like so slight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;And off Gray went, sold to the master,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;Dreams, hopes of a future, coming faster.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;The first step in this world so big,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;To be a useful hand in the busy rig.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-5232223783915414656?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/WRcspn91pH4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/5232223783915414656/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/09/ballad-of-phoney-gray-first-step.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/5232223783915414656?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/5232223783915414656?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/WRcspn91pH4/ballad-of-phoney-gray-first-step.html" title="The Ballad of Phoney Gray: First Step" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aqyqnoo8XUQ/ToFGWwDDC6I/AAAAAAAABhg/8Gb9NQrk4eA/s72-c/phoney.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/09/ballad-of-phoney-gray-first-step.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkEBRn44eSp7ImA9WhdUFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-6994136865271129137</id><published>2011-09-19T23:06:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-10-01T23:07:37.031+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-01T23:07:37.031+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="poetry" /><title>Nahin</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7jo0J-klrr0DOWR1cQjRyYLTfdA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7jo0J-klrr0DOWR1cQjRyYLTfdA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7jo0J-klrr0DOWR1cQjRyYLTfdA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7jo0J-klrr0DOWR1cQjRyYLTfdA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LS7klmzO2us/Tnd9SIswxoI/AAAAAAAABhc/23XLzEtR8Eg/s1600/no.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LS7klmzO2us/Tnd9SIswxoI/AAAAAAAABhc/23XLzEtR8Eg/s320/no.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Rikshaw hai jo rukta nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Bus hai jo dikhta nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Paer hain jo chalte nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Manzil hai jo aati nahin.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dost hain jo milte nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Dushman hain jo pighalte nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Pyar hai jo khilta nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Tanhai hai jo jaati nahin.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Pagar hai jo badhta nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Mehangai hai jo ghatati nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Paisa hai jo aata nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Garibi hai jo jaati nahin.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Izzat hai jo milti nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Shohorat hai jo badhti nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Kaamyabi hai jo aati nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Naseeb hai jo badalta nahin.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Umr hai jo rukti nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Jawani hai jo rehti nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Dimaag hai jo chalta nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Phoorti hai jo kaam aati nahin.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Zindagi hai jo katati nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Maut hai jo aati nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Andhera hai jo ghatata nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Roshni hai jo chamakti nahin.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Accha sochne ki aadat nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Khud se pyar kabhi kiya nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Doosron ka sahara hamesha nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Jeetna zindagi mein sab kuch nahin.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sahara nahin ka rehta nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Khud ke alawa koi madad karta nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Bulandi ke alawa chara nahin,&lt;br /&gt;
Khud se nafrat acchi nahin.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-6994136865271129137?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/rbZ_T2JKH1c" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/6994136865271129137/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/09/nahin.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/6994136865271129137?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/6994136865271129137?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/rbZ_T2JKH1c/nahin.html" title="Nahin" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LS7klmzO2us/Tnd9SIswxoI/AAAAAAAABhc/23XLzEtR8Eg/s72-c/no.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/09/nahin.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkEDRXgzeCp7ImA9WhdUFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-786427532487850801</id><published>2011-08-28T10:50:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-10-01T23:07:54.680+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-01T23:07:54.680+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="poetry" /><title>Rain</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jZ4aXWfFrYFwlyD0Hhbnjwze2ow/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jZ4aXWfFrYFwlyD0Hhbnjwze2ow/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jZ4aXWfFrYFwlyD0Hhbnjwze2ow/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jZ4aXWfFrYFwlyD0Hhbnjwze2ow/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hsTybnnte-s/TlnP5JIBURI/AAAAAAAABg8/YtWyDwEZ66A/s1600/rain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hsTybnnte-s/TlnP5JIBURI/AAAAAAAABg8/YtWyDwEZ66A/s320/rain.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As the sky readies for the battle of the sun,&lt;br /&gt;
A battle which has already been won,&lt;br /&gt;
The shining star has to retreat behind,&lt;br /&gt;
As the darkness covers, leading the wind.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As the drops gather in force,&lt;br /&gt;
The earth below moves from bad to worse.&lt;br /&gt;
The great humans left to stare,&lt;br /&gt;
Attacked by surprise, from the force nowhere.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Proud we stand against the natures will,&lt;br /&gt;
Killing her children, who can only stand still.&lt;br /&gt;
But Mother Nature always she wins,&lt;br /&gt;
Punishing us sorely for all our sins.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As we stand tall, on our structures of pride,&lt;br /&gt;
A few drops of rains, to frighten us suffice,&lt;br /&gt;
A busy life thrown completely out of gear,&lt;br /&gt;
Sit and ponder, worry and fear.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It’s that time of the year again,&lt;br /&gt;
When there’s nothing left to further gain.&lt;br /&gt;
Gaze by the window and ponder within,&lt;br /&gt;
Think, reminisce, what better it could have been.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
These drops of pure, they remind me so,&lt;br /&gt;
Are we really Gods, science our magic lo.&lt;br /&gt;
The little drops make me seem so helplessly small,&lt;br /&gt;
While every day, I am a proud human, standing tall.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As I watch smoke disappear in the rain,&lt;br /&gt;
I laugh at the struggle below in vain.&lt;br /&gt;
As machines prod, to win the fight,&lt;br /&gt;
As their masters, struggle to prove their might.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Rain, rain, don’t come here no more,&lt;br /&gt;
Let us live in our delusion so sore,&lt;br /&gt;
That we are the Gods of this Planet Earth,&lt;br /&gt;
We own this place, smoke, dust and dirt.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Rain, rain, go away some place,&lt;br /&gt;
Where people are not of our selfish ways.&lt;br /&gt;
Where people see you not just as water,&lt;br /&gt;
But as a giver of life that you are rather.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-786427532487850801?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/vDPaA8P2pRc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/786427532487850801/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/08/rain.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/786427532487850801?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/786427532487850801?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/vDPaA8P2pRc/rain.html" title="Rain" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hsTybnnte-s/TlnP5JIBURI/AAAAAAAABg8/YtWyDwEZ66A/s72-c/rain.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/08/rain.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEAARns_eCp7ImA9WhdXFU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-9022833487483339617</id><published>2011-08-28T10:14:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2011-08-28T10:15:47.540+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-28T10:15:47.540+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life" /><title>Wake up and smell the life:</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0Ao4IpbCaWvbogXSNOKtbpuMIR8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0Ao4IpbCaWvbogXSNOKtbpuMIR8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0Ao4IpbCaWvbogXSNOKtbpuMIR8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0Ao4IpbCaWvbogXSNOKtbpuMIR8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;A ping from Anju, a highly successful colleague of mine, came as a surprise. She seemed worried. She had it all she said, but wanted more. She had plenty of money, but wanted more. She had a loving husband, but wanted more of his love. She had become exceedingly touchy about her work and needed better, more meaningful work. Over the fifteen minutes that I managed to chat with her, I realised that she was not even aware what she wanted. And finally when I asked her the question, “Anju, what is it that you are searching for? Wealth, success, love or peace?” It took her by surprise.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
But the choice was obvious. Peace was what she wanted and she had been searching for it in money, in love and in her work. My advice to her was simple. I asked her to find the answer to a very simple question. What was the one thing that made her happy which involved no one else. A simple question for which, she had no answer. Here was a lady who solved complex business problems of her clients without the slightest effort but who was incapable of answering a simple question about herself. It was time for her to wake up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anju’s situation made me ask a very important question. “Have we lost the real meaning of life in our trance to be successful?” Seems so. Every one of us is struggling to be happy whereas happiness itself is supposed to be effortless. So why the struggle to be happy? Could possibly mean only two things. Either we have forgotten the true meaning of happiness or we have forgotten ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So what is it that really makes you happy? Not being successful in life and not earning truck loads of money. Something that would make you at peace, at being just yourself, something that would make you proud to be alive. Do you think you can help Anju with suggestions? Let’s hear them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-9022833487483339617?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/4KGghfv41FU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/9022833487483339617/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/08/wake-up-and-smell-life.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/9022833487483339617?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/9022833487483339617?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/4KGghfv41FU/wake-up-and-smell-life.html" title="Wake up and smell the life:" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/08/wake-up-and-smell-life.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkENRHczeip7ImA9WhdUFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-6297672168507072102</id><published>2011-08-16T23:01:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-10-01T23:08:15.982+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-01T23:08:15.982+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life" /><title>The little hand of peace</title><content type="html">
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7CZGwyLjVqU/TlnYfluV6-I/AAAAAAAABhI/-BBoKdacNGU/s1600/peace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7CZGwyLjVqU/TlnYfluV6-I/AAAAAAAABhI/-BBoKdacNGU/s320/peace.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
I was coming down with cold, had a terrible headache and was nearly bursting at the way things had been turning out at work. The chamber was dirty and I had no strength to clean it up. I was done sitting there and decided to get out of the enclave, just so I could step out and have a brisk walk,to burn out the frustration and convert into sweat. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Armed with my headphones, Gorillaz blurting out a song on Clint Eastwood,I walked down the stairs. It was coming on, and coming on and coming on...Watch out streets, here I come.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
As I reached the bottom of the pyramid, I glanced around to see that nothing had changed. There was the noise accompanied by the eerie din of the shrill blaring horns. Nothing ever changes outside of the world. The people were talking, gossiping. The kingdom had seen a revolt in the morning. The Secretary of the enterprise had been accused of corruption and he had eventually threatened to resign. Nothing had changed. Its comin' on, its comin' on, its comin' on.......&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I greet the elder, cuddling the offspring of her offspring in her arms. She was a study in contrast. Her hair the color of her teeth during the best of their days and her teeth the color of her hair, again, during the best of their days. Her weird colored gown striking a blaring contrast against her wrinkles. And in her arms she held the offspring, perched like a king on her waist, smiling at everyone and everything. She smiled but couldn't recognize who I really was. Age, we glorify it...but always..it's comin' on, it's comin' on, its comin' on....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I wish her a good day, say hi to the offspring's offspring, just a formality. Has to be done in the social world. And then I decide to move on. Only to be stopped. To be stopped by the the tiny hand on my shoulder. The child had decided he had stared enough and wanted a new throne. My arms. I froze...It really was comin' on and comin' on and comin' on....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Left with no choice, picking up the child in my arms, I felt a sudden change in the surroundings. The residents seemed alive, the children seemed to have come to life, the elder suddenly had expressions and the noises seemed to have disappeared. It was a divine moment as I unplugged the Gorillaz...The comin' on had finally arrived.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The child was suddenly my Master. Pointing around, he rode his chariot in any direction imaginable, "goo goo"ing and "gaa gaa"ing as he wanted to catch the flying sparrow. Pointing out to the car, smiling at the yellow line on the ground, banging against the notice board. And I realized I had so much patience. So much understanding which I lose everyday in just a matter of seconds. But aren't we all?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We have to think about how the competitor would be plotting, how the friend would be getting richer, how the colleague would be getting a promotion, stock markets, cheating girl friends, latest movies, scheming managers, rude rikshawallas, so much to think about but not a moment of peace. I realized how long it was before I could feel the magic of the flying sparrow, or the wonder of seeing a reflection, the sheer brightness of the color yellow, or the awe of seeing children play. I realized that dialogue from The Matrix "There is no spoon".&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But soon, the child had to go back to his grandmom, and I was suddenly back in this world. But the world seemed better, my arm ached but I didn't seem to care. As I plugged in to my music again, I changed my gait. Joyful, happy, forgiving, peaceful. Hidden somewhere in the "1s and 0s" of the digital world of my mobile, Florence played with his Machine &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Dog Days are over".&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-6297672168507072102?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/FWngnUi1AwQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/6297672168507072102/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/08/little-hand-of-peace.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/6297672168507072102?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/6297672168507072102?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/FWngnUi1AwQ/little-hand-of-peace.html" title="The little hand of peace" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7CZGwyLjVqU/TlnYfluV6-I/AAAAAAAABhI/-BBoKdacNGU/s72-c/peace.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/08/little-hand-of-peace.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkACQH88cSp7ImA9WhdUFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-5912398361982601393</id><published>2011-08-14T23:00:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-10-01T23:09:21.179+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-01T23:09:21.179+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="poetry" /><title>Yeh Zindagi</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/d5l_0847RFyKPhyOX8EctAEJs1k/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/d5l_0847RFyKPhyOX8EctAEJs1k/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/d5l_0847RFyKPhyOX8EctAEJs1k/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/d5l_0847RFyKPhyOX8EctAEJs1k/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oi84oEYDTyg/TodQOXzSYBI/AAAAAAAABiA/ZdDFNKyoyzM/s1600/into+the+void.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oi84oEYDTyg/TodQOXzSYBI/AAAAAAAABiA/ZdDFNKyoyzM/s320/into+the+void.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Kadvahat ki zaroorat nahin, par phir bhi peeta hoon,&lt;br /&gt;
Zindagi se darr lagta hai, par phir bhi jeeta hoon.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Manzilen dhoondata raha zindagi bhar, par&lt;br /&gt;
ab toh bus raaston se pyar hai, zindagi se darr.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Badi Kashmakash hai yeh zindagi ajeeb,&lt;br /&gt;
iss se ladho, jhagdo, jeetoge nahin, rahoge garib.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Jeetne ki chah lekar aao zaroor, par&lt;br /&gt;
yeh todegi, marodegi hamara saara guroor.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haar ke jab baithoge, kisi kinare pe,&lt;br /&gt;
tab ehsaas hoga kya khoya zindagi se.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bus chalte jao, saath nibhate jao,&lt;br /&gt;
aur yeh Zindagi tumhein le jayegi...aao.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ajeeb Zindagi, ajab Zindagi,&lt;br /&gt;
Gareeb Zindagi, gajab Zindagi.&lt;br /&gt;
Pakdo toh daudti hai,&lt;br /&gt;
Chodo toh ragadti hai.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yahi hai...yahi hai Zindagi.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-5912398361982601393?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/l3uZ9Ka9HQE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/5912398361982601393/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/08/yeh-zindagi.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/5912398361982601393?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/5912398361982601393?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/l3uZ9Ka9HQE/yeh-zindagi.html" title="Yeh Zindagi" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oi84oEYDTyg/TodQOXzSYBI/AAAAAAAABiA/ZdDFNKyoyzM/s72-c/into+the+void.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/08/yeh-zindagi.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcGQHo_eyp7ImA9WhdRFEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-2599967038769585140</id><published>2011-08-04T22:40:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-08-04T22:43:41.443+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-04T22:43:41.443+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="poetry" /><title>The Lady Fair</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GpRpVovFVVUaPfspqXs9xTuvroE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GpRpVovFVVUaPfspqXs9xTuvroE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GpRpVovFVVUaPfspqXs9xTuvroE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GpRpVovFVVUaPfspqXs9xTuvroE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Every day, in my sleep,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I see this fair lady weep.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Her eyes worn, her gaze far away,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The gentle breeze making her sway.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Lady, why won’t you talk to me,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Tell me what troubles you see.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;That you have to weep so sour,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Why can’t you just sleep when it’s four?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But she comes here every night,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Driving me crazy, shivering with fright.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I wonder how long be sane I can,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Maybe it’s time I just ran.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Lady why won’t you go away,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Why should I be made to pay?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;For something I am of no part,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Why lady do u torment my heart?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And so I run, to my mother’s lap,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But mother look, she’s laid her trap.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Do you see her, against the wall?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fearful eyes on the prettiest doll.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This time Lady, I have made,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A decision my mind so forbade.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I will run and end it all,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This torment will go with my fall.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Peace seems to have come at last,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There Einstein here, but Flash is fast.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There are people who see them others,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Beings, images and ghosts of our fathers.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But lady now you seem alright,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Long time since I gave up the fight.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You are my companion of the night,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Be with me now, wrong or right.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-2599967038769585140?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/vXO7gRHOIb8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/2599967038769585140/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/08/lady-fair.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/2599967038769585140?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/2599967038769585140?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/vXO7gRHOIb8/lady-fair.html" title="The Lady Fair" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/08/lady-fair.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUBQ3syfip7ImA9WhdSGEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-7355260651567213673</id><published>2011-07-27T22:43:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-07-28T23:50:52.596+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-28T23:50:52.596+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="technology" /><title>A cloudy future:</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9E7gysPZx-nHqvB9isMrRjz2qQA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9E7gysPZx-nHqvB9isMrRjz2qQA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9E7gysPZx-nHqvB9isMrRjz2qQA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9E7gysPZx-nHqvB9isMrRjz2qQA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The rains have been lashing the lashing this side of the country for over a month now and everyone has been talking about how the weather would be over the next couple of days. However, there are also people who never have to stop out on the road but still seem to be very upbeat about the prospects of the cloud. These are people who have defined the future of technology over the years. The companies they have set up or have been running are the behemoths of Information Technology. From Google to Microsoft, from Oracle to SAP, from Amazon to Yahoo, everyone has only one point of focus- the cloud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Understanding the cloud:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Technically, the term cloud has been derived from the nascent stages of the internet. The internet has traditionally always been depicted as the cloud. In terms of computing, the cloud stands for a cluster of servers which work in tandem to provide users access to applications running on them over the internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Typical cloud architecture looks as below:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PzTi5lifmpE/TjGl28Nm4mI/AAAAAAAABfE/GzdlFvBsWyM/s1600/400px-Cloud_computing.svg.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 181px; " src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PzTi5lifmpE/TjGl28Nm4mI/AAAAAAAABfE/GzdlFvBsWyM/s200/400px-Cloud_computing.svg.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634466972111921762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Image Courtesy:&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 19px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;Sam Johnston&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Typically a dedicated server is not fully utilized and most of its resources are left idle. In such a scenario if the server can be clustered with other servers to work in tandem, sharing resources would make for a large number of users to make full utilization of the capabilities of all the connected servers. Since the resources are being shared seamlessly, the users do not have to bother about downtimes or even about which server they are connected to. This results in uninterrupted and seamless work in terms of the users needs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This then is the cloud.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;What is the big deal about the cloud then?&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;An application which runs on the users desktop is only available to the user on that machine. For hundred users to use the application would require a hundred licenses in addition to the resources needed on the desktop. Not all of these hundred users would use the application at the same time. However due to the dedicated machines and licenses, the resources would still be wasted.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Now if this application was to be deployed on the cloud, not only would the resources be efficiently deployed but they would be fully utilized as well. The servers that make up the cloud would be able to manage all the users at one-tenth the resources and the cost. Vendors deploying applications on the cloud usually charge users on a pay per use basis. Thus subscribing organizations not only end up with huge savings in cost but also have increased productivity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Clouds that matter:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;1. Microsoft:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;One of the late entrants in the cloud computing space, Microsoft has a host of applications built on the cloud. Microsoft Office applications have already found their place here whereas the Azure operating system has been specifically built for Microsoft’s cloud computing subscribers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;2. Amazon:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;One of the early adopters of the cloud, Amazon’s entry into the space is a parable on lost opportunity. With a huge stack of servers available and nothing much to do on them, Amazon introduced its cloud services which today provides users with tools to build their applications on as well as storage.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;3. Google:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Google tells the world, they were already in to cloud computing before the world woke up to the phenomenon. With Gmail offering almost unlimited storage and the cloud based Google Docs, Google is again one of the top companies in the cloud applications space.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;4. Zoho:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Aah, we do have a desi touch on the list of top cloud based companies. What started as a small start up is today one of the global forces with applications that range from storage to CRM to office, all cloud based.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;5. GoGrid:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Rivaling Amazon, the company offers a range of services for web developers and other cloud based application developers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The future of the cloud:&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;As per the techno enthusiasts, one day the internet would be a vast, tightly integrated, all encompassing network consisting of humans and machines. And in this scenario, the cloud would play a major role in integration of the resources and minimizing the cost.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;As for now, the world seems to be headed towards a cloudy future, at least technically.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-7355260651567213673?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/flvMkLoBhuI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/7355260651567213673/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/07/cloudy-future.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/7355260651567213673?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/7355260651567213673?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/flvMkLoBhuI/cloudy-future.html" title="A cloudy future:" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PzTi5lifmpE/TjGl28Nm4mI/AAAAAAAABfE/GzdlFvBsWyM/s72-c/400px-Cloud_computing.svg.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/07/cloudy-future.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEUCQno5fSp7ImA9WhdSEEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-7121027909647011789</id><published>2011-07-18T23:28:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-07-18T23:34:23.425+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-18T23:34:23.425+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fiction" /><title>The plea:</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RemHqsNHRcZtzOzPawtPPk2Q-Fg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RemHqsNHRcZtzOzPawtPPk2Q-Fg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RemHqsNHRcZtzOzPawtPPk2Q-Fg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RemHqsNHRcZtzOzPawtPPk2Q-Fg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;“Oh My God, is it true? Has it really happened? Can you really be dead, love? Can it be true that you have left me here? Alone, lonely with no one to care for me? No one to bother about me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And to think I couldn’t even be by your side when you breathed your last. Did you wait for me, love? Did you try your best to fight against Death as it walked closer to your soul? Did you bargain with Death to keep you alive just for some more moments so you could have a glimpse of me? To breathe your last in my arms?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But, you know what? If I had been here, I would not have let you go. I would have bargained with Death to win you over. And I would have succeeded. I would never have let you leave this world before me, love. Never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Come back, love. Come back for the sake of the time we spent together. Come back for the memories. Come back for the first time when we met and when time stood still. Come back for all the happiness you have spread in my life. Come back for the reason I found to be alive. Come back, love. Come back for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Look around you, Love. Look around you. These people think I am crazy. These people tell me I have to carry on without you. I have to survive because life is a gift and I should not waste it away. Silly fools don’t understand that this life has no meaning without you. It’s like a noun without an adjective. Nothing special. Just mundane. And it has no meaning whatsoever without you. They tell me, I should stop crying. But what they fail to understand, love, is I am not crying at all. Because I know you are here. You can’t have left this place. Not without me. You can’t have left this house in which we set up our home. You can’t have left this air that this house breathes. You can’t have left these walls that make this house, our home. Silly fools, I pity them. They tell me I have lost you. You think that is ever possible, love? We are bound, no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And you God? You think you can sit up there and take away my love’s life just because it was time? Do you have any idea, what it feels like to be cursed this way? All my life I have prayed to you, talked to you, worshipped you. I have cribbed to you when I have feared my exams. I have hailed you when I have landed up a job. I have never slacked in my duties towards you. For what God? For this day? For you to comfortably order my Love’s life to be pulled away? And you think she will leave me and go? I can see her here now God. Go on and try. Go on God. I challenge you. Go on. I know you will lose. I know you will lose this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And if in my entire life, I have been true to you, I have ever done a single good thing to others, then bring my love back to life God. I will be your slave for life, God and even after I am through with this life, I will be there to serve you. But for this once, for this once, do me this favour and bring her back to life. I do not want to hate you God. I do not to be away from you. But please, please bring her back to life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh my God, is that a flutter of her lashes? Can it be true? Oh my God. Oh my God. My love.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-7121027909647011789?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/kbTfV_2z7hQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/7121027909647011789/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/07/miracle-of-love.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/7121027909647011789?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/7121027909647011789?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/kbTfV_2z7hQ/miracle-of-love.html" title="The plea:" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/07/miracle-of-love.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUGR307fCp7ImA9WhZaFEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-2961868727130189662</id><published>2011-06-30T23:35:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-06-30T23:53:46.304+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-30T23:53:46.304+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="poetry" /><title>Sit</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/w6Q8sUtWbAJfKyd0cVKbussjMAI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/w6Q8sUtWbAJfKyd0cVKbussjMAI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/w6Q8sUtWbAJfKyd0cVKbussjMAI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/w6Q8sUtWbAJfKyd0cVKbussjMAI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The class was packed tight,&lt;br /&gt;And the teacher was always right.&lt;br /&gt;“Students, lets gather some wit&lt;br /&gt;Open your books, pay attention and Sit”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the bus, the crowd was a throng,&lt;br /&gt;You’d get bashed even if not wrong.&lt;br /&gt;With life risked, I nearly seat with true grit,&lt;br /&gt;“This is a reserved seat, don’t you dare sit”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What the hell is this? This chair sucks”&lt;br /&gt;“Son, can’t help it, we aren’t making bucks”&lt;br /&gt;“But sir, what if my back is hit?”&lt;br /&gt;“Cope with it son, just sit”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Tommy’s a nice dog, he’s always there.&lt;br /&gt;Taught him some tricks, here and there.”&lt;br /&gt;He does all for a small treat, poor crit,&lt;br /&gt;Tommy come, come here and sit”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this dog, he’s of a different breed,&lt;br /&gt;He’s human, but still he’s of the animal creed.&lt;br /&gt;He’ll heel, he’ll fetch, he’s the lover poets’ writ,&lt;br /&gt;Follows his lady’s commands, pay bills, cook and sit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny I say, how simple sitting can be,&lt;br /&gt;For some it’s a fight, for some it’s a right.&lt;br /&gt;For some it’s life, for some opportunity ripe,&lt;br /&gt;For some it’s an idea hit, for some it’s just sit!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-2961868727130189662?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/J2qVcMZS0eA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/2961868727130189662/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/06/sit.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/2961868727130189662?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/2961868727130189662?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/J2qVcMZS0eA/sit.html" title="Sit" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/06/sit.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEENQHo7fyp7ImA9WhRTFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-3613630757250059119</id><published>2011-05-27T23:01:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-11-06T23:34:51.407+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-06T23:34:51.407+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="corporate life" /><title>Beware: Kids at work</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CEUZnHMXJqKBmXhcOWJ95DcDN5k/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CEUZnHMXJqKBmXhcOWJ95DcDN5k/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CEUZnHMXJqKBmXhcOWJ95DcDN5k/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CEUZnHMXJqKBmXhcOWJ95DcDN5k/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kv8QzbLb_CM/TrbMK38hstI/AAAAAAAABjI/CJUJ0jSfGjM/s1600/kill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="219" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kv8QzbLb_CM/TrbMK38hstI/AAAAAAAABjI/CJUJ0jSfGjM/s320/kill.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Over the years, I have come to realize how childish people are when they are actually at work. People take the workspace rather personally and forget that they were are just employees and the organization doesn't owe or own them. That the manager is not their mother and the workplace is not their home. That they are only professionally related to their colleagues and not through relationships. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I have noted how people take everything and everyone personally and ruin the office decorum which is supposed be the office environment free of all the emotions. With the tactical team of HR professionals trying their best to make the employees feel at home, the poor workers do take their word for it. Home is where you can be free, home is where you can move around unhampered, home is where you can be naked. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
The office or the hallowed workplace is meant to be a place of worship. Always realize that the place does not account for and has no feelings for your feelings. So lets keep the personal gratifications aside and concentrate on the jobs to to done.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A junior recently called me up to crib to me about how she wanted to make a career in testing and no one was willing to give her an ear. Infinite amount of reasoning seemed to find no favor with her and she decided to fight it out with the organization. It is people like these who end up being the frustrated employees within a company. Hating the management and the organization that has been paying for your food every month. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A career needs to be built no doubt but she has to realize that they are running a business here and not a career development forum. The services industry thrives on people who are flexible and can take on multiple roles with multiple skill sets. The easier it is for a person to fit in, the better he is at cutting out an impressive career. However, my junior had to take it pretty personally.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Another instance I have seen is people who take to others pretty personally. He is my friend, she is my personal favorite and so on and so forth. What they fail to realize is it is just a professional workplace. We are all colleagues here. Everyone has a right to have coffee with anyone they choose. I recently bumped into a colleague of mine while I was having coffee by the cooler. We started talking since we had a lot of catching up to do. But before we could get deeper into the conversation, her tail, rather her favorite colleague was there, standing right next to us and grinning all the while. He had to be there. He was her friend. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Incidents like these make me wonder when we will realize that we are no longer in school and it is about time we realized that it's a professional world out there. For all of you out there who still wonder if you are in a personal space in office, all I can say is.....GROW UP! &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-3613630757250059119?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/_e7gaEiyaZE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/3613630757250059119/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/05/beware-kids-at-work.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/3613630757250059119?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/3613630757250059119?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/_e7gaEiyaZE/beware-kids-at-work.html" title="Beware: Kids at work" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kv8QzbLb_CM/TrbMK38hstI/AAAAAAAABjI/CJUJ0jSfGjM/s72-c/kill.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/05/beware-kids-at-work.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkQDR3o9cSp7ImA9WhZWEEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-4824283971484790539</id><published>2011-05-10T23:18:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-05-10T23:29:36.469+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-10T23:29:36.469+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="technology" /><title>Skype: Eulogy</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TQ3jqIqyyrBowF7_ofizxQcSJ2Q/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TQ3jqIqyyrBowF7_ofizxQcSJ2Q/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TQ3jqIqyyrBowF7_ofizxQcSJ2Q/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TQ3jqIqyyrBowF7_ofizxQcSJ2Q/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Ooh Skype, I loved you. I loved you for your originality and your fantastic quality video calls. I loved you for being so low on ads and I loved you for what you did best-near perfect audio.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now after being chased by Google and Yahoo, you end up in Microsoft's arms. Not that I do not like the company that Bill Gates started but why were you so desperate to be sold. You were a phenomenon, Skype.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know you will survive and you will evolve. But you will no longer be Spiderman. You will be the dark Spiderman. You will be full of ads and you will mean business. You will support issues and you will crash. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I guess all good things come to an end, huh? Only I can never imagine something as good as you can come to an end (virtually, as in losing your individuality) for a mere 8 billion dollars? Did you realize you broke 8 billion hearts?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I hope Microsoft takes good care of you. And I hope you still manage to survive for what you stood for-Quality. I hope you still manage to keep lovers' hearts united, friends bonded and siblings loved. For you Skype were one of the most benevolent software of our times.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope..I so hope&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-4824283971484790539?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/3cSlGrjb10o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/4824283971484790539/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/05/skype-eulogy.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/4824283971484790539?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/4824283971484790539?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/3cSlGrjb10o/skype-eulogy.html" title="Skype: Eulogy" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/05/skype-eulogy.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQBSXY-eCp7ImA9WhZXGUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-7875094856450531801</id><published>2011-05-09T23:16:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-05-09T23:19:18.850+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-09T23:19:18.850+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life" /><title>Critique-aly yours</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jw4KndC-Nl0WaMR_5YPHhJO_O44/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jw4KndC-Nl0WaMR_5YPHhJO_O44/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jw4KndC-Nl0WaMR_5YPHhJO_O44/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jw4KndC-Nl0WaMR_5YPHhJO_O44/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;If there is no dearth of something ever in life, it is critique. There will always be critics waiting to gobble up your best effort and spit out such powerful words of contempt, you will feel ashamed you even tried.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The point however is whether you should give into critics. One way of looking at it is to take it as positive feedback and try to inculcate what the so called gurus point out to you. Ooh ya, take the feedback positively and &amp;nbsp;change your style. For what and for whom? Why should I change my style or anything just because some people feel so.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Another lesson springs up here. Do we need to change? Do we need to alter the way we do things just because a select few feel they are blessed?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I refuse and now I fully realize why W.Axl Rose had to pen song like 'Get in the Ring'. I am sorry my critics but I refuse to change-not my style, not my writing, and not my life. Dream on...suckers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-7875094856450531801?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/iCYuel20ZVE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/7875094856450531801/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/05/critique-aly-yours.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/7875094856450531801?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/7875094856450531801?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/iCYuel20ZVE/critique-aly-yours.html" title="Critique-aly yours" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/05/critique-aly-yours.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU8DR3Y8fyp7ImA9WhZXGEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-496356019238226446</id><published>2011-05-08T20:52:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-05-08T23:34:36.877+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-08T23:34:36.877+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life" /><title>Building Life’s data marts:</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IaFKn29pdxkGqF6uRWw8jFL7rvc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IaFKn29pdxkGqF6uRWw8jFL7rvc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IaFKn29pdxkGqF6uRWw8jFL7rvc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IaFKn29pdxkGqF6uRWw8jFL7rvc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;In continuation to my earlier post on &lt;a href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/05/data-warehouse-called-life.html"&gt;A data warehouse called Life&lt;/a&gt;, let’s try to build small data marts for life’s departments.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;A data mart by its ideal definition is a subset of the data warehouse which is oriented for specific business lines or teams. What this means is that while the data warehouse would be storing data for the entire enterprise, a data mart would have data relevant only to specific businesses within the organization. A marketing team would have no use of HR data and vice versa. Likewise for our architecture for the data warehouse called Life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Defining Life’s areas:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;In order to start building a data mart we need first define the different disparate areas of our lives. An ideal design would involve: the professional life, personal life and the individual life. Depending upon the kind of the person, life’s areas can be ideally charted out. Once the business definitions and bifurcations are through, the next step is to define tables and keys.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6KvD4duSO0I/TcbXOJXhPdI/AAAAAAAABb8/0Fx5ntY8R8c/s1600/dw1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604403424341867986" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6KvD4duSO0I/TcbXOJXhPdI/AAAAAAAABb8/0Fx5ntY8R8c/s400/dw1.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 243px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Defining tables:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Reiterating, the purpose of the data mart is to present only that data that is relevant to a specific area of our lives. When a particular data set is required it can be easily retrieved from a data mart instead of the query being fired on the entire data warehouse.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I usually follow the star schema to store data within the data mart. For the uninitiated, a star schema is a truly unique design that is aimed at faster retrieval of results from the repository.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Defining keys:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Keys connect the dimension tables to the facts. They provide the key to the relationship between calculated measures which reside in the fact table and the static data that resides in the dimension.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;A mind map can connect the measures in the fact to the incidents, colleagues and success or failures.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Analyzing trends:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The ultimate aim of the data warehouse is to come up with trends and lessons for the future. Keeping the data structured, layering the lessons learnt and the people we have met over our life time can help come up with some of the best analytics about life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;We usually tend to forget about our mistakes in life and only seldom do we ever care to learn from other people’s errors. The journey of life is a process of continuous evolution by incorporating teachings and lessons that we learn on the way. Setting up measures like success rates and failure rates can help in tweaking the way we live life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;With a sample representation of the data as above, one can come up with a unique approach as to understanding what went wrong and why. Happy journey everyone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-496356019238226446?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/NM4XQw_Cx8A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/496356019238226446/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/05/building-lifes-data-marts.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/496356019238226446?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/496356019238226446?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/NM4XQw_Cx8A/building-lifes-data-marts.html" title="Building Life’s data marts:" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6KvD4duSO0I/TcbXOJXhPdI/AAAAAAAABb8/0Fx5ntY8R8c/s72-c/dw1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/05/building-lifes-data-marts.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4FRXo_fSp7ImA9WhZXGEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-8759110088406429466</id><published>2011-05-07T09:42:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-05-08T23:35:14.445+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-08T23:35:14.445+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life" /><title>A data warehouse called life</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zpx9WbTDHnBiXXZJkdETHZSkj_o/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zpx9WbTDHnBiXXZJkdETHZSkj_o/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zpx9WbTDHnBiXXZJkdETHZSkj_o/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zpx9WbTDHnBiXXZJkdETHZSkj_o/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;A data warehouse, simply put is a vast storage of all relevant data available within an enterprise. And why a storage place for data is the next question that probably pops up. Its because data invariably brings out trends. A technical analyst scans huge amounts of data to find a pattern in stock movements. A marketing professional needs data to understand customers' interest in a product. Data is imperative to any business. And hence the next step to a data warehouse is Business Intelligence.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For more than six years  now I have been deeply involved with data warehousing technologies. Over the years I have realized that though data has always been associated with enterprises and businesses, it is also equally important to an individual. A cleverly crafted data warehouse with life's data can bring out some very interesting trends of an individual's life. And there can be no better place to store this immense data set than the brain. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We usually tend to store only selective data. Only memories that interest us. And we conveniently forget lessons that we have learnt over the years. We commit the same mistakes again and again and blame life for being unfair. Life's lessons are best stored in the warehouse, indexed and ready to use the next time a similar situation arises.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A close friend of mine had lost money over futures and options in the stock market. And it was a big lesson for him. But instead of storing the data and analyzing the reason for his loss, he very knowingly invested a larger sum in a similar transaction and suffered even more losses. Surprising, isn't it? But thats how most of us are. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In our &lt;a href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/05/data-warehouse-called-life.html"&gt;next post&lt;/a&gt;, let us explore how we can use data warehousing concepts to create data marts for parts of our life and how to build a perfect data warehouse for life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-8759110088406429466?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/CMrCbmXiZhc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/8759110088406429466/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/05/data-warehouse-called-life.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/8759110088406429466?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/8759110088406429466?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/CMrCbmXiZhc/data-warehouse-called-life.html" title="A data warehouse called life" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/05/data-warehouse-called-life.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4BQ30-fip7ImA9WhZXGEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-4899449909199578262</id><published>2011-05-05T23:25:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-05-08T23:35:52.356+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-08T23:35:52.356+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="corporate life" /><title>The dog gets his due</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yO614VeesEolqZ2X1Li7JLE-GbY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yO614VeesEolqZ2X1Li7JLE-GbY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yO614VeesEolqZ2X1Li7JLE-GbY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yO614VeesEolqZ2X1Li7JLE-GbY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;In persuasion to my last discussion about how women can very magically turn men into dogs, I realized that they can again turn them back into humans, emotions et all. Men and emotions? you ask but yes. Ask a man who has been ditched and you will realize how full of emotions men are. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And so did our man. Who had recently been transformed into a dog by his loyalty to a particular lady. When he finally decided to express his feelings for her, he was expectedly turned down. But the dog in him won. And though visibly hurt he still managed to play doggie for another day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope the new day tomorrow makes him realize that in a professional and corporate world, the human feelings and emotions do not matter. All that matters is your reputation. And once lost, you end up being the laughing stock of the entire team. I have seen this gentleman fall from grace, simply because he could not distinguish between a dog and a lover. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Being in love doesnt mean being a dog. And love and workplace seldom go hand in hand. So it is best to avoid the usual lovey dovey nonsense in the work place and take it out somewhere in the garden.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lesson learnt my friend huh? Hope you see the difference between a dog and a lover soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-4899449909199578262?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/HDOE3ssuirk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/4899449909199578262/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/05/dog-gets-his-due.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/4899449909199578262?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/4899449909199578262?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/HDOE3ssuirk/dog-gets-his-due.html" title="The dog gets his due" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/05/dog-gets-his-due.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4MR3g-eCp7ImA9WhZXGEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-8227438168929811248</id><published>2011-05-05T09:45:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-05-08T23:36:26.650+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-08T23:36:26.650+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life" /><title>Finding peace</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/APEg0xMqgx0ahfNxbZJNPyC8JZQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/APEg0xMqgx0ahfNxbZJNPyC8JZQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/APEg0xMqgx0ahfNxbZJNPyC8JZQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/APEg0xMqgx0ahfNxbZJNPyC8JZQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;How often do I hear,"all I need is peace". Its everywhere. The dialogue seems to have embedded itself on everyone's tongue. Everybody is cribbing about the lack of peace. And at the same time, they are all running away from it. Everytime I hear someone cribbing, I ask them to define peace. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace is something that need not be chased, we all have it inside us. When I was a victim of my own teenage angst, I was addicted to this particular song which had lyrics like..."there's a peace inside us all." And for over a year, I never imagined it could be "peace". I always sang it as "theres a beast inside us all". Though both are very much true, it is surprising how I never imagined someone could actually sing about peace. At least you don't expect it from a rock band. And this is exactly how the people searching for "peace" are. Peace is free my friends. Its deep inside us. Hiding behind all our material wishes. Waiting for us to grow really really old when we are free of our material wishes and are finally able to recognize it's worth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And today I find peace in music. Music makes me feel at peace with the world. The small "weird" little sounds make me feel like I am one with eternity. Peace is easy to find my friends. Only we never want peace. We want cars and money, we need partners and achievements. Even for music we need crystal clear sound. Music is best enjoyed naturally. Peace is best enjoyed naturally.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And so I am "calling out to jah". Bring them peace God. Let them not chase it. Show them the way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wish you were here...with me...at peace...all of you..&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-8227438168929811248?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/o5R13cutYJA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/8227438168929811248/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/05/finding-peace.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/8227438168929811248?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/8227438168929811248?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/o5R13cutYJA/finding-peace.html" title="Finding peace" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/05/finding-peace.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcGR3gzfyp7ImA9WhZXGEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5381292786440328903.post-7458762552615830006</id><published>2011-05-04T23:39:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-05-08T23:37:06.687+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-08T23:37:06.687+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="corporate life" /><title>Of women and dogs</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4_EVULgZ4v6eVIN4wsIfT_njltc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4_EVULgZ4v6eVIN4wsIfT_njltc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4_EVULgZ4v6eVIN4wsIfT_njltc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4_EVULgZ4v6eVIN4wsIfT_njltc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Its wonderful to see how a woman can have as many dogs as she pleases. There is no dearth of men always wanting to be wrapped around the little finger of a pretty lady. As long as the lady knows how to play. All she has to do is throw a ball and the dog will be only too eager to fetch it for her. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One such recent example has been that of a colleague completely enamored by a fresh joinee. He will wait for her for lunch, he will have a late breakfast if she is late for office and even wait for her outside the women's rest room. Once the star performer in the project, he is now the laughing matter of the entire team. His performance is below par and he has gone from being a 'like' to a 'dislike' among the team. And why wouldn't it be. All he has time for is his 'good friend'.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I pity them dogs. But I pity these dogs more who forget that they have a human heart somewhere which is supposed to carry a mini ounce of dignity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't blame the lady. She is just doing what she is good at. But what about the dog? What about the dog? And what about the dogs who are waiting for the ball to be thrown in their direction. God save the queen and her bountiful dogs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5381292786440328903-7458762552615830006?l=vinayakgole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/VinayakGole/~4/u0I3tpN-L1M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/feeds/7458762552615830006/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/05/of-women-and-dogs.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/7458762552615830006?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5381292786440328903/posts/default/7458762552615830006?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/VinayakGole/~3/u0I3tpN-L1M/of-women-and-dogs.html" title="Of women and dogs" /><author><name>Vinayak</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gV34W_DEQj0/SRgj7s8jemI/AAAAAAAAANk/BOU_RxUAxTI/S220/529632_200.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/2011/05/of-women-and-dogs.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

