<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047</id><updated>2026-07-17T09:17:20.868-07:00</updated><category term="love"/><category term="happiness"/><category term="Life"/><category term="happy"/><category term="blogger contest"/><category term="life partner"/><category term="relationship"/><category term="Dusty"/><category term="Missing you"/><category term="friends"/><category term="marriage"/><category term="memories"/><category term="molestation"/><category term="partner"/><category term="sexual abuse"/><category term="Lillie McFerrin Writes"/><category 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term="funny incident"/><category term="giveaway"/><category term="global warming"/><category term="goplay"/><category term="housing"/><category term="humour"/><category term="impression"/><category term="infidelity"/><category term="joy"/><category term="learning"/><category term="lesson"/><category term="loved ones"/><category term="optimism"/><category term="paper"/><category term="passion"/><category term="platinum day of love"/><category term="poachers"/><category term="prompt"/><category term="punishment"/><category term="rain"/><category term="rains"/><category term="romance"/><category term="satisfied"/><category term="save paper"/><category term="save water"/><category term="school"/><category term="second chance"/><category term="speak up"/><category term="stand up for yourself"/><category term="stayfree"/><category term="strength"/><category term="teacher"/><category term="teacher&#39;s day"/><category term="tigers"/><category term="time to change"/><category term="traffic control"/><category term="traffic rule"/><category term="traffic sense"/><category term="truth"/><category term="valentine&#39;s day"/><category term="water is precious"/><title type='text'>Complicated Life....</title><subtitle type='html'>My thoughts about everything and anything....</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>46</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-5973846630126360430</id><published>2015-03-19T00:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2015-03-19T00:47:31.902-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="happiness"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="housing"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="marriage"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="optimism"/><title type='text'>Friends Forever!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
My wedding had been one hell of an experience for me. Though we were in love and were very serious about spending our lives together, we both were very clear on our terms of marrying only with our parents&#39; consent. My family happily gave their nod but the trouble was from his side. With a lot of convincing and patience from our end, Shyam&#39;s family finally agreed to get us married. Even though Shyam belongs to the community where Dowry is a must, my in-laws did not ask us for anything. All that they wanted was us to marry according to their customs which my family agreed without any qualms.&lt;div&gt;
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My late Father had not been very responsible when he was alive which meant we had no much savings. Our wedding date was fixed just after a month which left us with very little time to arrange the monies. The whole period between our engagement and wedding was very stressful for both of us. There were no sweet talks but only arguments and discussions about how to mobilize money between us. Shyam had couple of payments from his clients and some savings which helped us to some extent. The first breather came to us from the office I was working for. Since I was with the company since 2 years, the management did not hesitate in sanctioning a reasonably huge amount as a loan for my wedding. I had a chit of about 2 Lacs which I was paying since couple of months. It was no where nearing maturity and lifting the chit at that point of time meant losing a lot of money. We both were not sure which source we should be trying to arrange the monies which left us both worried. We were filled with negativity as we weren&#39;t sure what we should be doing. The relatives did not prove to be of any help. I was in my office pantry lost in thoughts as to what to do when a colleague (now friend) asked me what&#39;s the matter. When I shared my situation with her, she immediately offered help without any second thought. I was kinda in shock as we were not exactly very close friends but still she offered to help me. It was that moment which gave me the much needed strength and optimism to get up and walk again! It did not stop there. My other friends did not back off in helping either and it made me feel lucky and blessed for having such amazing friends.&lt;/div&gt;
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The saying, &#39;A friend in need is a friend indeed&#39;, is so true in my case. I cannot thank my friends enough for being there for me during the most important phase of my life. We were able to clear off 85% of the monies in 1.5 Years. The thing which makes us proud is that we bore our wedding expenses on our own without depending on our parents.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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The post is written for &lt;a href=&quot;http://housing.com/&quot;&gt;Housing.com&lt;/a&gt; which believes in the inimitable power of optimism.&lt;/div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/5973846630126360430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2015/03/friends-forever.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/5973846630126360430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/5973846630126360430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2015/03/friends-forever.html' title='Friends Forever!'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-5808057950363716905</id><published>2014-02-26T21:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2014-02-26T21:04:22.563-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blogger contest"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dove"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="goplay"/><title type='text'>Go Play!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&#39;I&#39;ve asked you a hundred times to keep your hair plaited! Why do you insist on leaving it open?&#39;, yelled my Grand Ma at me. &#39;But I want to leave it open Granny. I like it that way&#39;, I said in an irritated tone. My Mom gently brushed my shoulder asking me to keep quiet.&lt;br /&gt;
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&#39;Today&#39;s generation don&#39;t listen to elders at all!&#39; murmured my Granny and went in. She got a bottle of coconut oil and a hair band. &#39;Come here right now&#39;, she ordered. I quietly went and sat down. She poured half the bottle of oil into my hair and put a tight plait. &#39;See, how beautiful you look now. You will spoil your hair if you leave it just like that.&#39; she said kissing me on my forehead. At that very moment I wanted to shout at the top of my voice that I don&#39;t like plaiting my hair but I kept quiet. I din&#39;t wanted to embarrass my Mom.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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&#39;Mom, why does Granny always want me to keep my hair plaited? And look how much oil she has poured on my head. I will have to put a full bottle of shampoo to rinse this off my hair!&#39; I said to my Mom after we came back home from my Granny&#39;s place. &#39;She cares for you baby. She doesn&#39;t want your hair to get spoiled.&#39; I din&#39;t wanted to argue with my Mom, so I went into my room.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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&#39;Granny, please let me do whatever I want with my hair. I promise I will take care of it.&#39;&lt;/div&gt;
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&#39;How will you take care of your hair? If you do not keep it plaited, your hair will become frizzy and you might even have hairfall&#39;, she warned.&lt;br /&gt;
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&#39;I won&#39;t Granny. I will keep it nourished with Dove.&#39;&lt;br /&gt;
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&#39;Dove? How will that help you?&lt;br /&gt;
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Granny, Dove really helps in keeping hair moisturized and nourished. Touch my hair and see how soft it is.&#39;&lt;br /&gt;
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&#39;It is soft because I oil your hair regularly.&#39;&lt;br /&gt;
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That&#39;s true Granny but it&#39;s also because of Dove. Let me show you&#39; I said removing the band from my hair.&lt;br /&gt;
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&#39;Watch this Granny&#39;, I said swaying my head as my hair bounced enjoying the new found freedom.&lt;br /&gt;
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My Granny gave me a surprised look.&lt;br /&gt;
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&#39;You want me to plait my hair right? Let me show you in how many different ways that can be done.&#39;&lt;br /&gt;
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I showed her all the different kinds of hairstyles I knew and she looked at me in awe.&lt;br /&gt;
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&#39;Oh my little princess, you look so beautiful.&#39; she said.&lt;br /&gt;
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Just a moment Granny, I said and got a curler and straightener from my neighbor Pinky.&lt;br /&gt;
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&#39;I sat down and straightened my hair. &#39;It will burn your hair!&#39; screamed my Granny.&lt;br /&gt;
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&#39;It won&#39;t Granny. Touch my hair and see how it feels.&#39;&lt;br /&gt;
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Then I curled my hair from the mid section something I wanted to do from so long!!! My Granny gave up on me and left. I took my phone, played the song &quot;Shake it like Shammi&quot; and danced swaying my head and shaking my body like Shammi. I felt on the top of this world playing with my hair and dancing! I suddenly heard someone bang the door. I opened the door but no one was there. My Mom called out my name loud! I got up from my bed startled and realized that it was all a dream. My hair was still the same. And no, I was not playing with it.&lt;br /&gt;
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I will never be allowed to play with my hair!&lt;br /&gt;
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This is my entry to the &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.indiblogger.in/topic.php?topic=105&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Indiblogger&lt;/a&gt; contest Dove Go Play hosted my Dove.&lt;br /&gt;
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Watch the &lt;a href=&quot;https://twitter.com/DoveIndia&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;#DovePlay&lt;/a&gt; Video here:&lt;br /&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/5808057950363716905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2014/02/go-play.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/5808057950363716905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/5808057950363716905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2014/02/go-play.html' title='Go Play!'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-1997459554305592737</id><published>2014-02-18T22:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2014-02-19T05:32:36.691-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Lillie McFerrin Writes"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="prompt"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="strength"/><title type='text'>Five Sentence Fiction – Strength</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&quot;What&#39;s wrong my love?&quot;, she enquired gently placing her hand on his shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He looked up at her and broke into tears.&lt;br /&gt;
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&quot;We... &amp;nbsp;we lost everything, including this house&quot;, he said crying out louder.&lt;br /&gt;
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She held him in her arms and said, &quot;We did not lose everything, our love is still going strong and it will find us a way out of this.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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He looked into her consoling eyes for that is all the &lt;i&gt;strength&lt;/i&gt; he needed to get up and work again.&lt;br /&gt;
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This five sentence fiction is written for the prompt &quot;&lt;a href=&quot;http://lilliemcferrin.com/five-sentence-fiction-strength/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Strength&lt;/a&gt;&quot; at &lt;a href=&quot;http://lilliemcferrin.com/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Lillie McFerrin Writes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/1997459554305592737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2014/02/five-sentence-fiction-strength.html#comment-form' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/1997459554305592737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/1997459554305592737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2014/02/five-sentence-fiction-strength.html' title='Five Sentence Fiction – Strength'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-5708728355930471139</id><published>2014-02-03T01:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2014-02-03T01:51:51.314-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="betrayal"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="frozen"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="infidelity"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Lillie McFerrin Writes"/><title type='text'>Frozen</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
They kissed and caressed each other as if their bodies were hungry for love since long. He unbuttoned her blouse hurriedly pushing her on the bed. Engulfed in passion and lust they forgot that they&#39;d left the door open. She opened the door only to find her husband lying naked with her best friend. She &lt;b&gt;froze&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;at her husband&#39;s infidelity and the brutal betrayal by her best friend.&lt;br /&gt;
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This five sentence fiction is written for the topic &quot;&lt;a href=&quot;http://lilliemcferrin.com/five-sentence-fiction-frozen/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Frozen&lt;/a&gt;&quot; at &lt;a href=&quot;http://lilliemcferrin.com/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Lillie McFerrin Writes&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/5708728355930471139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2014/02/frozen.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/5708728355930471139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/5708728355930471139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2014/02/frozen.html' title='Frozen'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-2907174507873318668</id><published>2014-01-21T02:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2014-01-21T02:42:24.049-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="marriage"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Missing you"/><title type='text'>A Long Separation!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
I&#39;ve been married for almost 8 months now and we did have our share of fights some real big and a lot over silly things. There were days when I would just tell my husband that I long to go to my Mum&#39;s place, pack my bag and just go to stay for a weekend. Yes, the separation would be painful for both of us but we could deal with it as it would only be for a day or 2.&lt;br /&gt;
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So, now last week by hubby darling was gone for an official trip for a good 5 days (and 6 nights) to Bangalore. This was the first time we were away from each other for so long. 5 days seemed like 5 months. I stayed at my Mum&#39;s place when he was away. This separation from him made me realize how habituated I&#39;ve become to his presence. I&#39;ve never felt this way before even when he was in Bangkok for a good 3 months during our initial days of courtship. I sulked and so did he hoping the days would pass soon and we could be with each other. So, when he came back from his trip after 5 days, my hubby dearest told me how much he missed me, a thing which he shies away from saying generally.&lt;br /&gt;
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You might now argue that it&#39;s silly and we feel this way only because it&#39;s our first year of marriage. Maybe when we have kids tomorrow, we might not miss each other so much. He shopped for me when he was in Bangalore and perhaps tomorrow he will shop for our kids. But however it might be tomorrow, I know now that my life without him will be as meaningless as Prabhu Deva&#39;s action flicks.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWP7aSKG8QSedE3cU3tGU65AwKs-0nOTZOKv9MdaMoAdbMeG9anYZCe139Ydt5oZ2_h_Tg17oeXKxivXaS0iW4s6hG-IkxkY-kA2Y4EWwgzPojpn0l9CDGKvSX3JCZzGsjdPkkRYUme1J7/s1600/MissYouPuppy.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWP7aSKG8QSedE3cU3tGU65AwKs-0nOTZOKv9MdaMoAdbMeG9anYZCe139Ydt5oZ2_h_Tg17oeXKxivXaS0iW4s6hG-IkxkY-kA2Y4EWwgzPojpn0l9CDGKvSX3JCZzGsjdPkkRYUme1J7/s1600/MissYouPuppy.jpg&quot; height=&quot;290&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/2907174507873318668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2014/01/a-long-separation.html#comment-form' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/2907174507873318668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/2907174507873318668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2014/01/a-long-separation.html' title='A Long Separation!'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWP7aSKG8QSedE3cU3tGU65AwKs-0nOTZOKv9MdaMoAdbMeG9anYZCe139Ydt5oZ2_h_Tg17oeXKxivXaS0iW4s6hG-IkxkY-kA2Y4EWwgzPojpn0l9CDGKvSX3JCZzGsjdPkkRYUme1J7/s72-c/MissYouPuppy.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-6930234475327861686</id><published>2013-11-07T22:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2013-11-08T01:00:37.201-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blogger contest"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="happiness"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="happy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="platinum day of love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="second chance"/><title type='text'>A Second Chance</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
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&quot;I am in love with you Anika!&quot;, exclaimed Nirav.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Have you lost your mind Nirav? I was married before! I am a divorcee! Did you forget that?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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&quot;I don&#39;t care Anika. I love you too much to judge you!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;But I do Nirav,&quot; screamed Anika slamming the door on Nirav&#39;s face. She wasn&#39;t expecting a proposal from him. She had dealt with enough shit in her previous courtship and wasn&#39;t ready for anymore.&amp;nbsp;After all&amp;nbsp; she knew all men are the same. Was Nirav trying to take advantage of her? Or did he think she&#39;s an easy catch for him since she is alone? Or does he think she&#39;s a damsel in distress and he could save her? Whatever it was, Anika just wasn&#39;t ready.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Nirav walked towards his car depressed by Anika&#39;s reaction to his proposal. He thought she would just say she needs time but such a reaction was totally unexpected. He felt dejected, hurt, broken and above all guilty for having hurt his love. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Anika and he did exactly that. Maybe he should have waited little more before expressing his feelings for her. But now, the cat was out of the bag, He could not take back what he said and what she had heard. He did not know how to make her feel better. He tried hard to stop those stupid tears from flowing but he did not succeed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The office seemed empty without Anika. It was nearly a week since she came to work and that left Nirav restless. He urged to see her and considered going to her apartment but&amp;nbsp;decided&amp;nbsp;against it. After all, she might be hurt and taken aback by his sudden outburst of feelings for her which he had hidden for quite long. He finally gathered the courage to call her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anika ignored Nirav&#39;s calls. She sat in silence and recollected all that had happened at the party. The dance floor, the food, the cocktails and the heavy music, a perfect&amp;nbsp;office&amp;nbsp;day celebration. Everyone were dressed in their best clothes. Nirav paired a black casual shirt with a blue jean. Anika looked her best dressed in a pink knee length dress and minimal makeup. She had always been more comfortable with Nirav than anyone else in the office. In the two years of time they knew each other, there friendship&amp;nbsp;deepened&amp;nbsp;with time. Nirav was always in love with her but he knew Anika needed a lot more time to start living life again. After her divorce with Arnav, she&#39;d suffered a major&amp;nbsp;depression&amp;nbsp; Arnav was an overtly suspicious and insecure man. He controlled Anika&#39;s life for a good 3 years with his constant nagging. His insecurity grew with each passing day and Anika could take no more. She filed for a divorce and chucked him out of his life.&lt;br /&gt;
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After the heavy dancing, the music became softer. Anika stood at a corner with a couple of colleagues laughing&amp;nbsp;uncontrollably at a joke. Nirav approached her and in a filmy style asked, &quot;Can I have the pleasure of a dance with you my lady?&quot;. Anika tried to hide her blush and bent her head grinning when Nirav grabbed her by her hand.&lt;br /&gt;
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Anika&#39;s heartbeat tripled when she felt Nirav&#39;s warm hand curl around her back. He looked into those shy-filled beautiful eyes which otherwise were always confident. Anika tried avoiding his gaze but could barely control herself. They danced forgetting everyone else lost in each other. It took a while for Anika to regain her senses. She pushed Nirav away and rushed outside the hall. Nirav went behind her to the parking lot. He urged her to stop but she got into her car instead and drove away. Nirav followed her to her house. He rang her doorbell and she opened her door. Her smudged mascara and red eyes made Nirav&#39;s heart sink. He could swear she cried and that was because of him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anika&#39;s train of thoughts was disturbed by the doorbell. She peeped through the keyhole and found a man at the door. She opened the door and the man handed her a small box and left. She went in and opened the box to find a dazzling platinum ring. With it was a note saying, &quot;Life deserves a second chance and so do you. I am at your door. Will you please open the door for me?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anika fought back those tears and opened the door. Nirav walked in without asking her permission. That made Anika furious. &quot;You can&#39;t barge into my house like that without asking me!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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&quot;Well, you can&#39;t barge into my heart without asking me either Anika!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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Anika was flabbergasted.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Now, will you please close that door so that the neighbors don&#39;t hear what we talk?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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Anika closed the door.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Nirav, please, I don&#39;t wanna talk to you. Please leave.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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&quot;But I want to. I&#39;ve had enough now Anika. I know it&#39;s hard for you to get over Arnav but when will you start living your life again? I don&#39;t want to fool around with you. I want to be with you, every moment possible, hold your hand, look into those beautiful eyes and find love in it. For me. I want to be the man of your life. I don&#39;t promise that we will never have fights, but I want to fight with you and then make up to you by doing something crazy. I want to be the reason for your smile. I want to bring back happiness in your life Anika, the happiness that you deserve, the happiness that you have long forgotten.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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&quot;Nirav, I just can&#39;t trust a man again.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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&quot;You have to Anika. Not for anyone else, but for yourself. Not for getting hurt again but to be loved. Let go off your past my love. It isn&#39;t worth your grief. If you do not love me, then I will walk away right now without bothering you anymore. But if you love me and you are holding yourself back because of your past, then please let it go. And I promise to be by your side, forever.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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&quot;Nirav..... I, I...&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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&quot;Yes Anika. Tell me, do you love me?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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Nirav waited for Anika to open up but she kept crying.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;I am leaving Anika&quot;, he said turning back to leave when Anika hugged him from behind crying out loud. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Nirav turned back, held her beautiful face in his palm and kissed her forehead. He took the ring from her hand and put it in her ring finger. &quot;I&#39;ve another one for myself&quot;, he whispered in her ears taking out the ring from his pocket.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;You bought platinum love bands?&quot; She asked.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Yes. This is to let you know that our love has begun and will never end. It will not tarnish or fade away with time just like platinum which is the most eternal and precious metal. Also, to tell you that I will love you selflessly forever and ever till my last breath&quot;, saying that he gently brushed his lips against hers.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Looking into his eyes, she held his hand and put the ring in his ring finger. She pressed her lips against his and kissed him passionately for what seemed like an eternity.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;This is my entry for the contest, &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.preciousplatinum.in/en/about-platinum/platinum-day-of-love&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: black;&quot;&gt;Platinum Day of Love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, on Indiblogger.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/6930234475327861686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2013/11/a-second-chance.html#comment-form' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/6930234475327861686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/6930234475327861686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2013/11/a-second-chance.html' title='A Second Chance'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-2907169848821187650</id><published>2013-08-30T05:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2013-11-27T22:11:42.024-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blogger contest"/><title type='text'>From Smelly to Smiley</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.indiblogger.in/topic.php?topic=85&quot; title=&quot;Ambi Pur Smelly to Smiley - Runner-up&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;img alt=&quot;Ambi Pur Smelly to Smiley - Runner-up&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; src=&quot;http://www.indiblogger.in/badges/145x200_ambipur-smelly-smiley-runnerup.png&quot; width=&quot;145&quot; /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
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No smell in this world can escape my husband&#39;s sharp nose. He will catch any smell in the air and never hide his disgust if the smell is pungent.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We had an argument over a petty issue one morning over breakfast and it turned into a big fight. I was so mad that I considered taking an auto to work than going with him. All would have been fine if I&#39;d gone to office with him. But I din&#39;t. And that rose his temper. He did not call me till lunch.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My impatience grew and finally I gave him a call post lunch. Two rings and he disconnected the call. Damn!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I thought he might be held up with some important work.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I called him again during my tea break at 4:30.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No response.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I instantly knew what was in store for me. I will have to deal with his anger back home. I gulped my tea in 2 big sips and went back to my seat. He was the one who always made up for a fight but I guess it was my turn now. I looked for some tips online but none caught my fancy. Then suddenly, the old saying about men popped into my head - &quot;&lt;i&gt;the way to a man&#39;s heart is through his stomach&quot;.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;And then I knew what I should do to cool him down.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I took permission to leave early from my boss, left the office at 5, picked up groceries from a supermarket and went home. I went to the kitchen, made all arrangements to prepare a lip-smacking dinner. I made fried chicken, pudina rice and raita. Chawal ki kheer is my husband&#39;s favorite sweet dish when I make it. Hence, I thought that should make a perfect dish for dessert. I put some milk to boil when my phone rang. It was my friend. I spoke to my friend for sometime and went to take a shower.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I put on his favorite perfume, wore a simple pink saree, a strawberry flavored gloss and few bangles. As I sprinkled some perfume on my hand and smelled it, another smell caught my nose. SOMETHING WAS BURNING!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Goodness gracious! It was my kheer!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I rushed to the kitchen and stared at the burnt container in horror! I dumped the container in the sink and opened the windows to get rid of the smell. But it din&#39;t help. I heard the doorbell and peeped to see who it was. It was my husband!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Oh my! This smell. What am I gonna do!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And then, I knew what I should be doing! I went to the kitchen and unsealed the newly brought bottle of Ambi Pur - Lavender and sprayed it all over the house. In a span of few seconds, the burnt smell disappeared. I breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door to find my impatient husband losing his cool and ready to shout at me. And then, he saw me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He checked me out for a few seconds and came in silently. I shut the door and went to the kitchen without saying anything. I pretended to do some work when I felt his arms around me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;The house smells as awesome as you my love.&quot; he said planting a kiss on my neck.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;I am sorry for not answering your calls today.&quot;, he said handing over a gift wrapped box to me. &quot;And I am sorry for picking up an argument over a petty issue.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;I am sorry too&quot;, I said giving him a tight hug.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That way, a bit of cooking, a bit of looking good and Ambi Pur freshener helped me make up to my hubby darling! :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is my entry for the &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.indiblogger.in/topic.php?topic=85&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: white;&quot;&gt;Indiblogger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt; contest, Smelly to Smiley from&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href=&quot;https://www.facebook.com/AmbiPurIndia&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: white;&quot;&gt;Ambi Pur India&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/2907169848821187650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2013/08/from-smelly-to-smiley.html#comment-form' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/2907169848821187650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/2907169848821187650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2013/08/from-smelly-to-smiley.html' title='From Smelly to Smiley'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-7290389240467849620</id><published>2013-07-02T06:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2013-07-02T06:35:19.530-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="happiness"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="happy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life partner"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="marriage"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="perfect relationship"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="relationship"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="relationship status"/><title type='text'>From Ms. Mahalingam to Mrs. Reddy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
I am married!&lt;br /&gt;
To the man who has shown me what it is to feel &quot;loved&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;
To the man who has made me fall in love with myself again.&lt;br /&gt;
To the man who has shown me I am worth a lot more than what I&#39;d thought.&lt;br /&gt;
To the man who believes in me more than I do.&lt;br /&gt;
To the man who became a friend when I wanted one, lover when I felt unwanted, critic when I needed a reality check and now who is my husband promising to never leave my side till his last breath.&lt;br /&gt;
To the man who never gave up on me and kept trying.&lt;br /&gt;
To the man who loves me for what I am. .&lt;br /&gt;
To the man I can daringly be my worst with.&lt;br /&gt;
To the man who knows me more than anyone else does.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
To the man who laughs with me at my stupid jokes, grabs my hand when I cross the road, holds me in his arms when I feel cold, dances with me to a song only we both know, and above all loves me without conditions, truly, madly, deeply like the Savage Garden song! ;)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/7290389240467849620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2013/07/from-ms-mahalingam-to-mrs-reddy.html#comment-form' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/7290389240467849620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/7290389240467849620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2013/07/from-ms-mahalingam-to-mrs-reddy.html' title='From Ms. Mahalingam to Mrs. Reddy'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-306003937954708033</id><published>2013-03-06T04:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2013-04-01T06:06:48.839-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Tale of Inhumanity</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
Silently, I witness hundreds of&amp;nbsp;passerby&#39;s&amp;nbsp;daily, some using me as a temporary home to rest, some as a place to booze and some as a brothel. Being an abandoned old cottage for so long, I enjoy watching people using me as a number of things not knowing that I hear every word they utter and I watch everything they do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This night wasn&#39;t normal though. She seemed to be barely 14 or 15. Her hands were tied behind and her legs were tied too with a rope which left bruises on her fragile skin. Her eyes were swollen. She was fully clothed but only for sometime. I had seen these 5 men before. They had come on a number of occasions with a bottle of alcohol cleaning me temporarily and boozing whole night.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She screamed as hard as she could and cried for help. No one came to her rescue. The big hefty man slapped her hard several times and she passed out. They did not showcase a hint of humanity. They tore her clothes&amp;nbsp;mercilessly&amp;nbsp;and took turns forcing themselves on her. She could hardly do anything to save herself. I could feel her agony and my heart went out for her. Her bare body was bruised and I witnessed red marks all over. I blinked my eyes several times thinking it&#39;s a nightmare but it wasn&#39;t. The men&#39;s laughter pierced through my ears and I wanted to crush their bones for hurting an innocent girl but I could barely move. I never felt as helpless as this before.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One of the men untied her legs and held the rope in his hands staring at her and smiling a crooked smile. The big hefty man instructed him to strangle her. She begged them not to kill her but her plea fell on deaf ears. She was strangled to death. The five men left the place leaving the lifeless naked body on it&#39;s own not&amp;nbsp;turning&amp;nbsp;back.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I had never witnessed such a brutal act before and cursed for not been able to help that poor little kid. Her body began decomposing and was noticed by a villager after few days. Taken aback by this inhuman act, he called the police from his mobile and narrated what he saw. The police came in a few minutes and examined her body. She was covered, photographed and then taken in a&amp;nbsp;stretcher&amp;nbsp;to the ambulance parked outside. Police questioned the villager asking him if he knew anything. I shouted at the top of my voice that I could help them find the culprits but my voice was unheard. I was after-all a cottage. An old, abandoned cottage.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/306003937954708033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2013/03/a-tale-of-inhumanity.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/306003937954708033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/306003937954708033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2013/03/a-tale-of-inhumanity.html' title='A Tale of Inhumanity'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-6777532193287695041</id><published>2013-02-12T04:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2013-02-12T23:47:49.892-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Dusty"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="happiness"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="joy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life"/><title type='text'>The joy of owning a dog.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
Dogs, the companions who are by your side all their life only expecting love and nothing else. I always had this craving towards owning a dog and when the long cherished dream became a reality with Dusty&#39;s &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.beingnamrata.com/2011/08/most-beautiful-gift.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: white;&quot;&gt;home coming&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, I regret for not having bought a dog long ago.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The love and affection that a dog has for it&#39;s owner is beyond the love between humans. The innocent gaze of your pooch, the wagging of tail, the endless licks, the morning walks can&#39;t be&amp;nbsp;exchanged&amp;nbsp;with anything else. You can be quietly sitting on a chair with a book or a&amp;nbsp;newspaper&amp;nbsp;and your dog will&amp;nbsp;patiently&amp;nbsp;sit beside you occasionally licking your feet. They wait for you for hours looking at the door only to jump on you when you come home. Once, we all, except my Mom, had gone to a nearby place and had been a little late than usual. Dusty sat near the door waiting for us to come silently and refused to come in even when my Mom called her! Such is a dog&#39;s love for it&#39;s owner!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
From the time Dusty came into my life, I feed the dogs in my colony with small treats whenever possible. Never a day passes when we do not talk about our princess! She&#39;s on our mind all the time and I feel my life would be so incomplete without her!&lt;br /&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/6777532193287695041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-joy-of-owing-dog.html#comment-form' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/6777532193287695041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/6777532193287695041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-joy-of-owing-dog.html' title='The joy of owning a dog.....'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0VzeoN5L0_WTFgjSHxpHMOA1JUW8NvwD5ClT1fnolqEI_fRipcyUFkPgpjNCWpbULtaFVNnG7l94yu6mjl7aL1mD-h3CU9y29h0JYhFmu81yZYj7jf5Tqvg7GvJ1YpDRo9np0hVkNbrg/s72-c/2012-09-19+20.19.23.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-4761412022863490258</id><published>2013-01-19T02:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2013-01-19T02:22:27.092-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="passion"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="perfect relationship"/><title type='text'>The Perfect Relationship</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
Two hearts united&lt;br /&gt;
forever in love strengthened&lt;br /&gt;
by trust deepened&lt;br /&gt;
over time unaffected&lt;br /&gt;
by the world&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Two bodies ignited&lt;br /&gt;
in passion numbed&lt;br /&gt;
by sweat provoked&lt;br /&gt;
by an ardor desire lusted&lt;br /&gt;
in sinful appetite&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Two souls wedded&lt;br /&gt;
in marital bliss bound&lt;br /&gt;
by customary rituals looking&lt;br /&gt;
for a happy life together&lt;br /&gt;
Forever......&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;http://static.priyo.com/files/image/2011/11/29/20111129-relationship-460.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;http://static.priyo.com/files/image/2011/11/29/20111129-relationship-460.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/4761412022863490258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2013/01/the-perfect-relationship.html#comment-form' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/4761412022863490258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/4761412022863490258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2013/01/the-perfect-relationship.html' title='The Perfect Relationship'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-1288565750643357458</id><published>2013-01-02T05:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2013-01-02T05:19:00.441-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="eve teasing"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="molest"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="molestation"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="rape"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sexual abuse"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="speak up"/><title type='text'>Let&#39;s stand up for her......</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
It&#39;s 2013. A new year filled with new hopes, new aspirations, new goals and&amp;nbsp;of course&amp;nbsp;resolutions which we tend to break at the drop of a hat. However, this year is different.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The brutal gang rape and murder of the innocent 23 year old girl in Delhi reflects our society&#39;s actual state. Sexual assault on women at workplace, schools, private vehicles, public transports, roads and almost all possible places shows the carelessness of not just our Government but of us as well. Most of the time a woman has to deal with eve-teasers all by herself as we merely spectate the whole scenario without uttering a word in her support.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What do we, as the responsible members of this society, do when we watch a woman being sexually harassed in a public transport? Do we stand up for her or leave her on her own as if we do not care? What if back home our sister or mother or wife or daughter narrate a painfully helpless situation to us about the kind of humiliation and&amp;nbsp;assault&amp;nbsp;they were subjected to by their co-worker or a roadside romeo? How would we feel if we happen to know that absolutely no one raised their voice against this shameful act? I don&#39;t see a reason for us to feel bad as we din&#39;t raise our voice either when someone else&#39;s sister/mother/wife/daughter was being eve-teased.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I happen to recall an incident which happened a few months ago wherein some bastard on a bicycle hit my Mom hard on her bum as he rode away. My Mom shouted at the top of her voice running behind him and asking people to catch hold of him. No one did anything and that jerk, despite being on a bicycle, escaped. Such is our society. And so are we. We love being spectators.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Instead of taking resolutions like quitting smoking or drinking or any such resolution which we know we will never follow, let&#39;s take an oath to raise our voice against any offense that we witness. Let&#39;s promise to safeguard a woman&#39;s self respect by being by her side even if she&#39;s a stranger. Let&#39;s resolute to stand up for a woman in need and object any kind of obscene behavior and lewd comments passed at her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let&#39;s not let some insane sadists take away a woman&#39;s innocence and self respect and leave her only to be humiliated by the society till she lives.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Is this hard to do?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.storypreso.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/08/eve.menforwomen-Small.png&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; src=&quot;http://www.storypreso.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/08/eve.menforwomen-Small.png&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Picture Courtesy: Click &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.storypreso.com/2010/08/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: white;&quot;&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/1288565750643357458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2013/01/lets-stand-up-for-her.html#comment-form' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/1288565750643357458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/1288565750643357458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2013/01/lets-stand-up-for-her.html' title='Let&#39;s stand up for her......'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-2465067943794063874</id><published>2012-12-20T03:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-12-20T03:39:01.886-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="molest"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="molestation"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="nightmare"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="rape"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sexual abuse"/><title type='text'>Delhi - A Woman&#39;s Nightmare</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
More than 500 rapes (reported) in our so-called capital city in 2012. Where is our country heading to? Sexual&amp;nbsp;assault, domestic violence, eve teasing, torture, what else should we women go through? What do these assholes have in their minds when they put women through such gruesome torture? If going out in the night after 8:00 PM means I am not coming back in one piece, then I do not want to go out at all! If despite such gruesome act the criminals are acquitted, then why is there even a law in our country? If that innocent girl would not&amp;nbsp;have&amp;nbsp;boarded&amp;nbsp;that bus, some other girl might have. It could have been anyone. Someone as young as 16 or as old as 30. It could have been anyone. That very thought scares the hell out of me.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTlba7jxK35dl4reMyDZ86co7CO_aIQpXNKa-9F433xNTKJL3-uiwmuBJxlCg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTlba7jxK35dl4reMyDZ86co7CO_aIQpXNKa-9F433xNTKJL3-uiwmuBJxlCg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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What possibly could be a rapist&#39;s state of mind? Do they enjoy it? Do they like it when a woman begs for mercy? Do they feel it&#39;s their birth right to sexually assault any woman they want? Where do they get such courage from? We all know the answer. It lies in our weak law and order. The endless court trials which eventually bury the truth and silence the victim. The doubt on a woman&#39;s character when she screams out loud that she was raped. The questions and humiliation she is subjected to by the police as if they doubt her statements. &amp;nbsp;The poor male-female sex ratio. When a woman is raped, there is every possibility that she won&#39;t be accepted in the society with the same dignity she held earlier. Why is that not the case with the rapists? Why ain&#39;t they looked down upon?&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQbZ5CY-7mai52nyB-50KE1oh9xEuuAv5xebajI4XNDdC_OjUquwnScQ39_&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;106&quot; src=&quot;http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQbZ5CY-7mai52nyB-50KE1oh9xEuuAv5xebajI4XNDdC_OjUquwnScQ39_&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Will the rapists get away without being punished like always? If they are indeed punished, will it be just jail for a few years? Is 7 years of jail the enough for a crime as grave as rape?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If a woman is this unsafe in our country&#39;s capital, then I dare not ever put my foot there. I always knew Delhi is unsafe for women but I never heard of such a gruesome incident before. High in crime rate especially against women, why doesn&#39;t the police ensure maximum security is provided? Crimes happen in Delhi even in broad daylight and go unnoticed. Lewd comments are passed on the fairer sex in public transports like buses and people keep quiet. It&#39;s said that &quot;Dilli dilwalon ka shehar hai&quot;. Sahi mein?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Delhi indeed is India&#39;s Rape Capital in true sense!&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/2465067943794063874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/12/delhi-womans-nightmare.html#comment-form' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/2465067943794063874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/2465067943794063874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/12/delhi-womans-nightmare.html' title='Delhi - A Woman&#39;s Nightmare'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-1620412223561604021</id><published>2012-11-20T01:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-11-20T01:25:49.455-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="content"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="happiness"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="happy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life partner"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="partner"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="relationship"/><title type='text'>Not a Complicated Life anymore!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
Life isn&#39;t as complicated when you have a beloved life partner to live through. Someone who strives hard to make you feel as special as possible. The ups and downs can never break you when you have a sweet heart who never leaves your side. When mutual trust and respect fills a relationship, insecurities take a back seat.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s been almost 2 years since I&#39;ve had that someone special in my life and my life just feels so good. Unconditional love, respect for one&#39;s individuality, understanding of one&#39;s wants and desires without really having to say anything, these are few things which are needed for a beautiful relationship to blossom further. I can hardly ask for more since I&#39;d got more than these from my man!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I can barely wait for the day when I would settle down with my hero in what&#39;s considered to be the most purest relationship, marriage. When we would share a relation which is beyond physical intimacy.&amp;nbsp;When all it takes to break a cold war is a hug.&amp;nbsp;I can&#39;t wait for the day when I would be waking up with him in the morning only to fall asleep in his secured arms in the night. When we would spend an entire day together in silence and still feel like we had the best time. I can picture our life as perfect as it can be. Late night movies, weekend trips, surprises, kids, silly fights etc.,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I can&#39;t wait to grow old with the man of my dreams.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/1620412223561604021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/11/not-complicated-life-anymore.html#comment-form' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/1620412223561604021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/1620412223561604021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/11/not-complicated-life-anymore.html' title='Not a Complicated Life anymore!'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-7201097989338827547</id><published>2012-10-13T09:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-10-14T23:37:03.114-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="daddy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Missing you"/><title type='text'>Life Goes On</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
My Dad left us midway without giving a prior warning 3 months ago in a road mishap. Aged 55 then, no one could actually guess his age right. Lot of people thought he was in his early 40s owing it to his high energy and youthful looks.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He had his own way of living life. He lived for the moment. He would tell us that tomorrow is uncertain and throughout his journey with us, I saw him following this principle. He believed that Life Goes On no matter what. Whether you had money or not.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He had a lot of friends. While passing by from our street in just about a kilometer radius, he would wave at 10 different people. He used to stop atleast 3-4 times to talk to someone or the other. I felt he knew almost everyone. I used to get so bugged when he did that and would plead to him not to stop anywhere. I feel now I was so wrong. All those people came to offer their last goodbye to him at his funeral. They were all there, feeling equally bad for our loss.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He loved kids. All the kids of our society loved him too. He would call them &#39;dost&#39; and raised his thumb to them everyday as a sign of friendship. He would become a kid with them and shower his love upon them. How much I wish he showered his love on my kids too. How they would call him &#39;Nana&#39; and go around sitting on his shoulders just like I did as a child.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Three months passed just like that and with each passing day, I feel he&#39;s become even more close to my heart. He isn&#39;t there physically. I long to hug him tight and cry but I don&#39;t feel his arms. I long to fight with him for no real reason, pick up a debate with him on a silly topic, laugh with him watching Dusty&#39;s naughty acts and above all sit with him in deep silence not uttering a word. How I wish he fulfilled my kanyadaan rituals and wished me love for my new life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There were a lot of things maybe he wanted to tell us but he couldn&#39;t because death took him away even before he saw us. I know that I would still live my life and in a matter of few months, everything will get back to normal like nothing happened at all. In a few years, his memories would fade away making way for new ones.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Like it&#39;s rightly said, Life Goes On....&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmS059gy7ZQ_23Gs1kdCBNo4FcOK6D0LkO0RRrIK5Gg3mOItHKniSARruvm-2cQxcar2Vow_R29WmetgQWToIGZnToOV26ymsJZ150CLVo7nQYAOVnp-OvgX22hEwqLtYALo_ZRC6eNYs/s1600/life+goes+on.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmS059gy7ZQ_23Gs1kdCBNo4FcOK6D0LkO0RRrIK5Gg3mOItHKniSARruvm-2cQxcar2Vow_R29WmetgQWToIGZnToOV26ymsJZ150CLVo7nQYAOVnp-OvgX22hEwqLtYALo_ZRC6eNYs/s320/life+goes+on.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/7201097989338827547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/10/life-goes-on.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/7201097989338827547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/7201097989338827547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/10/life-goes-on.html' title='Life Goes On'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmS059gy7ZQ_23Gs1kdCBNo4FcOK6D0LkO0RRrIK5Gg3mOItHKniSARruvm-2cQxcar2Vow_R29WmetgQWToIGZnToOV26ymsJZ150CLVo7nQYAOVnp-OvgX22hEwqLtYALo_ZRC6eNYs/s72-c/life+goes+on.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-8574343617651467685</id><published>2012-08-05T01:27:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2012-08-05T23:18:41.418-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blogger contest"/><title type='text'>A wrong arrangement...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
Dressed in a beautiful red lehanga, embellished with gold and diamond jewelry, the blushing bride sat on a bed decorated with flowers. She could hear the chatter batter and laughter of the teens &amp;amp; kids outside and Rajeev, her husband trying hard to keep them away from the room. He was finally successful and closed the door after he came in. Ananya&#39;s stomach twisted and her heart raced at almost double the speed when she felt Rajeev coming close to her. They had been engaged for around a month until they tied the knot in a grand affair. Rajeev had treated her well during their engagement days and she fell in love with her fiancee after a couple of meetings.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div&gt;
Rajeev sat on the bed beside her and held her hand. Ananya looked into Rajeev&#39;s eyes and her heart skipped a beat. She was tensed, restless and her stomach ached. She wan&#39;t sure how Rajeev would take the next step. &#39;Will I feel good if he touched me&#39;, she thought.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
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&lt;i&gt;It was quite a day. I am tired. Let&#39;s go to sleep&lt;/i&gt;, Rajeev said interrupting her thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He said that and went straight to bed. She told herself that maybe he&#39;s just tired and everything would be fine the next day. She realized that she is tired too, changed and went to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Nothing changed even the next day. Not even the day after. Infact nothing changed ever.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Rajeev would come late in the night and go&amp;nbsp;straight&amp;nbsp;to bed. He seemed like a normal person when his parents were around but in their bedroom he was different. He showed least interest in her and never even looked at her. Ananya wasn&#39;t sure what to do and whom to talk to. Even Rajeev chucked their honeymoon plans saying that he can&#39;t take any further leaves.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She felt it was high time she broke the ice.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I have to talk to you Rajeev, &lt;/i&gt;Ananya said closing the door.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I&#39;ve to head for a meeting. Can we talk later?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;No. It&#39;s important. I can&#39;t wait to talk to you later. I need some answers and I need them now.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Rajeev knew what&#39;s coming. He understood he can&#39;t run away from Ananya any further. It&#39;s time to face her questions.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Wh....what&#39;s it Ananya?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I want to know why did you get married to me?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;What kind of question is that, Rajeev said avoiding her eyes.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Well, that&#39;s absolutely a valid question considering how you treat me in our bedroom.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;What do you mean by how I treat you? Did I ever do anything wrong with you?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;That&#39;s precisely my point. You do nothing. You come, change and sleep. Forget about making love, you never even come close to me. Why did you marry me then?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Look, Ananya, I am really getting late. I need to go.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Answer me Rajeev! Now! Before I scream and you parents know what&#39;s happening or rather not happened between us.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Rajeev just stared at Ananya not uttering a word.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Do you love me Rajeev? Don&#39;t you find me attractive or beautiful? Don&#39;t I ever turn you on?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Ananya, you certainly are beautiful, competent, attractive and the perfect marriage material. But you ain&#39;t the girl I am in love with. Infact, it&#39;s not even a girl I am in love with.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
The newly wedded bride gave her husband a puzzled look.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I like men Ananya. I am gay.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;What? What did you just say?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Yes Ananya. I am gay. Women don&#39;t turn me on. It&#39;s men who get my hormones running. I tried telling this to my parents but could not gather the guts. I am sorry but we can&#39;t make love for sure.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Then why did you get married to me? You had no right to play with my life!&amp;nbsp;You could have told this to me before getting married Rajeev. I would have said no to your parents. You telling me this now! What do you expect me to do?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I don&#39;t know Ananya. I am feeling guilty too. I could have told you earlier but my parents would have found another match for me if you rejected their proposal. I had to marry someone and it happened to be you. I an sorry.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Rajeev said that and left.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ananya stood at her place dumbfounded not knowing what do to......&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Conclusion:&lt;/b&gt; Well, so, arranged marriages have their share of risks. So, I had rather have a love marriage ;) You already know the person beforehand in a love marriage, but in an arranged marriage, the man could be a gay, impotent or in love with someone else. So, my vote goes to Love&amp;nbsp;Marriage&amp;nbsp;:)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is my entry for the Indiblogger Contest, Love Marriage ya Arranged Marriage, the new TV show on Sony Entertainment Television. Know more about the show &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: white;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.facebook.com/LoveYaArrange&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/8574343617651467685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/08/love-marriage-ya-arrange-marriage.html#comment-form' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/8574343617651467685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/8574343617651467685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/08/love-marriage-ya-arrange-marriage.html' title='A wrong arrangement...'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-1119809129979349100</id><published>2012-07-21T00:01:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2012-07-23T03:39:50.052-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="daddy"/><title type='text'>Miss You Daddy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
Dad,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You left us helpless and lonely in this selfish world without any warning. I had never ever imagined God would take you away from us so mercilessly. I had imagined you bidding me goodbye with teary eyes on my wedding night and later playing with my kids. I had never ever thought you would force me to bid you adieu forever.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How do you expect me to forget that fateful day ever in my life? When you were taken away from me forever for no mistake of yours. When you were taken away from me due to someone else&#39;s carelessness? How do I forgive that careless driver who took your life away? How will I ever be able to get over you and move on Daddy?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I&amp;nbsp;suffer&amp;nbsp;with a headache, you were always ready with a disprin. Now my heart&#39;s heavy and it aches Dad. What medicine will you give me that will ease this pain? Will disprin work just like how it worked on my headache?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When you get Chicken home on a weekday, I would ask you why did you get Chicken today, lets eat on Sunday. You would answer, &#39;Agar main subah nahin utha toh. Aaj khaana ho toh aaj hi khaana chahiye. Kya pata main subah naa rahoon.&#39; I laughed it off whenever you said that Daddy. But today I feel you were so right. You were fit and fine when you left home in the morning and never came back.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I took you for granted when you were alive. How I would fight with you when you would keep all the fans switched on for no reason. How I would scream at you when you fought with Mom for some vague reason. Whom should I scream at now? Who would deal with my tantrums now?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One thing that your demise had taught me Daddy is that life is uncertain and death is inevitable. Thinking what will happen tomorrow ruins our present and worrying about a problem takes away the moment&#39;s joy. You never know how and when death would come and take us away forever from our loved ones. Your death has taught me to cherish the current moment, love unconditionally and express it when the time is in your hands, and most importantly value people when they are alive because how much ever you want to value them later, they ain&#39;t alive to see it and feel happy about it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
P.S: Wish I could tell you Daddy how much I miss you.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love,&lt;br /&gt;
Namu&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/1119809129979349100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/07/miss-you-daddy.html#comment-form' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/1119809129979349100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/1119809129979349100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/07/miss-you-daddy.html' title='Miss You Daddy'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoXyefw0lEd3PZJEUF9fOEcNgRlMlZNLUVnRkoF9frv4PqEawqVgMAaNUJIYv9YKPQhyxzMjWgzTJMwNa7VWKHvDpKdTecQkJmYq0VOVbYgLcomgI5SoRJSqz356hTrp6xNUxJoaikrOY/s72-c/30092011132.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-6894688932772945391</id><published>2012-05-18T02:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-05-18T02:09:49.476-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="environment"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="save water"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="water is precious"/><title type='text'>Har ek boondh zaroori hota hai!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
Now, how precious do you think is Water? Not just the drinking Water but Water in whole. You need Water right from the time you get up in the morning. First you need Water to brush your teeth. Then for potty. Then bath. Then when you go to pee multiple times in a day. To wash your hands before and after every meal. To clean the house. To clean the utensils. And the list is endless...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://spiritualtravelman.files.wordpress.com/2008/01/faucet.gif&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;http://spiritualtravelman.files.wordpress.com/2008/01/faucet.gif&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;How would you actually manage when your watchman comes and tells you that there is no bore Water for the entire day? You will feel helpless. You did not store Water in advance. Not a drop in any of the buckets. That&#39;s exactly what has happened to every family living in our complex. We were told that there will not be Water for the whole day. And we were like OMG!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This was not for a day. Our building&amp;nbsp;maintenance&amp;nbsp;uncle took good 2 days to analyze why there is a water problem. Either the ground water level has gone down or the motor might need a repair. On the whole, we have been suffereing since 5 days with minimal water supply. The problem is still not&amp;nbsp;fixed&amp;nbsp;and we have started saving bore Water just like how we save drinking Water. We are given water once or twice a day which is just enough for all of us to take bath or go to potty. We try to store as much Water as we can.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This problem has got me ponder over how important Water is to mankind or for that matter to Earth. I wonder how the animals roaming on the roads and birds in specific survive during summers. It&#39;s so difficult for humans to survive without water even for a day! And these poor creatures have been victims of our development. For that matter, even &lt;b&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.beingnamrata.com/2011/12/changes-after-dusty-coming-home.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: white;&quot;&gt;Dusty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/b&gt;feels restless when it is too hot and sits in the bathroom just to feel a little cold.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I take an oath that I will never waste water in my life! Har ek boondh zaroori hai yaar!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.canterbury.gov.uk/images/recycling/everydropbig.gif&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;http://www.canterbury.gov.uk/images/recycling/everydropbig.gif&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/6894688932772945391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/05/har-ek-boondh-zaroori-hota-hai.html#comment-form' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/6894688932772945391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/6894688932772945391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/05/har-ek-boondh-zaroori-hota-hai.html' title='Har ek boondh zaroori hota hai!'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-1491948217245809697</id><published>2012-05-10T02:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-05-10T02:40:02.658-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="relationship"/><title type='text'>It was never going to be an ordinary day...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
It was never going to be an ordinary day. It was her birthday. I had planned everything well in advance. She did not know anything about my plans. Our relationship was a long distance one where we got to meet only once or twice a month since I worked in Bangalore and she worked in Mumbai. We met through common friends around 2 years ago and hit off instantly. Couple of casual meetings, a proposal from me and we started dating. After around 6 months of our courtship, I got a job in Bangalore and I had to relocate.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.aspieweb.net/wp-content/uploads/2010/08/aspergers-love.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;http://www.aspieweb.net/wp-content/uploads/2010/08/aspergers-love.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
I wanted to surprise her on her birthday and make it the best birthday of her life. I did not wanted her to know that I would be flying to meet her on her birthday. So, when she called me to confirm if I am coming to meet her, I told her that I am tied up with hell lot of meetings and I can&#39;t come to see her. She was obviously pissed with me and hung up the phone on my face. She later called up to let me know she understands that work is important too and said we will celebrate her birthday some other day together.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She lived alone in a decent apartment in Mumbai. Whenever I went to see her, we would spend almost the entire time in her apartment. I loved cooking for her and she loved eating. We were just perfect together. I never knew how time flew when I was with her. She had a face as beautiful as that of an angel. She had a great body as she liked working out. She never had to try hard to turn me on as the very sight of her did the magic.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Her birthday was on Wednesday. I boarded the flight to Mumbai late Tuesday night. I reached Mumbai at around 12:30 AM and took a cab to her apartment. I knew she must have been expecting my call at sharp 12 but I was in flight then. She must have tried my number too but it must given her a message that the number is switched off. She must be even more angry now but I knew it will all be fine when she would see me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://wallpaperswide.com/thumbs/girl_in_white_dress-t2.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;207&quot; src=&quot;http://wallpaperswide.com/thumbs/girl_in_white_dress-t2.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
All the moments spent with her were still clear in my memory. I had picked a beautiful white knee length dress for her. &#39;How angelic she would look in this dress!&#39; I said to myself.&amp;nbsp;Of course there were flowers and chocolates too and a champagne bottle.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I got down from the cab, paid the driver and rushed to her apartment. She lived in the 3rd floor. I had no&amp;nbsp;patience&amp;nbsp;to wait for the lift to come so I took the stairs. I did not wanted to ring the doorbell so I&amp;nbsp;instead&amp;nbsp;took out the spare key of her apartment from my wallet. I unlocked the door and entered her house. I opened the door of her bedroom slowly and stood frozen right where I was! I could not believe what I saw!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There lay my angelic beauty soaked in her own blood...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At that instance, I felt my whole world crashing. I felt numb. I stood right in my place for God knows how much time dumb-struck. My heart thumped so hard that I felt it might just fall out. Tears rolled down my face as I saw her lying motionless on her bed. It took me a while to call out her name.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&#39;Payal!&#39; I screamed!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I rushed to her and took her in my arms. Her eyes were closed. My senses stopped working. I closed my eyes and cried out loud. I felt someone wiping my tears. My heart skipped a beat.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I opened my eyes and saw her smiling at me. I thought I was dreaming. She reached for my lips, kissed me and whispered, I Love You baby...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was a prank. She played a prank on me. She was very much alive and fine too. It took me a while to regain my senses. She laughed but I did not even smile. I was still in shock.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She tried reaching my phone but it was switched off. She was quite angry that I did not even bother to wish her at 12. She came near the window to close it when she saw me getting down from the cab. She was so happy that I came all the way from Bangalore to be with her. She wanted to surprise me instead and thought about this prank. She had some red dye with her which she&amp;nbsp;immediately&amp;nbsp;sprinkled on the bed and on her and lay&amp;nbsp;pretending&amp;nbsp;to be dead.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I slapped her hard and then hugged her tight. It was never really going to be an ordinary day. The rest of the day was as beautiful and extra-ordinary as it can be.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #ffff99; border-bottom-color: rgb(234, 234, 234); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-color: rgb(234, 234, 234); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-color: rgb(234, 234, 234); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-color: rgb(234, 234, 234); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 0px; border-width: initial; color: #555555; font-family: LucidaGrande, LucidaSansUnicode, TrebuchetMS, Verdana, tahoma, arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;
&lt;br style=&quot;background-color: white; border-bottom-color: rgb(234, 234, 234); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-color: rgb(234, 234, 234); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-color: rgb(234, 234, 234); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-color: rgb(234, 234, 234); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 0px; border-width: initial; clear: both; color: #555555; font-family: LucidaGrande, LucidaSansUnicode, TrebuchetMS, Verdana, tahoma, arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #ffff99; border-bottom-color: rgb(234, 234, 234); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-color: rgb(234, 234, 234); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-color: rgb(234, 234, 234); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-color: rgb(234, 234, 234); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 0px; border-width: initial; color: #555555; font-family: LucidaGrande, LucidaSansUnicode, TrebuchetMS, Verdana, tahoma, arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
This post is part of the contest&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style=&quot;color: maroon;&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.writeupcafe.com/contest/1&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot; title=&quot;It was never going to be an ordinary day.. | WriteUpCafe.com&quot;&gt;It was never going to be an ordinary day..&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: black;&quot;&gt;on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.writeupcafe.com/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot; title=&quot;WriteUpCafe.com&quot;&gt;WriteUpCafe.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;background-color: white; border-bottom-color: rgb(234, 234, 234); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-color: rgb(234, 234, 234); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-color: rgb(234, 234, 234); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-color: rgb(234, 234, 234); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 0px; border-width: initial; clear: both; color: #555555; font-family: LucidaGrande, LucidaSansUnicode, TrebuchetMS, Verdana, tahoma, arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #ffff99; border-bottom-color: rgb(234, 234, 234); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-color: rgb(234, 234, 234); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-color: rgb(234, 234, 234); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-color: rgb(234, 234, 234); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 0px; border-width: initial; color: #555555; font-family: LucidaGrande, LucidaSansUnicode, TrebuchetMS, Verdana, tahoma, arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/1491948217245809697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/05/it-was-never-going-to-be-ordinary-day.html#comment-form' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/1491948217245809697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/1491948217245809697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/05/it-was-never-going-to-be-ordinary-day.html' title='It was never going to be an ordinary day...'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-4751761799895728070</id><published>2012-05-07T22:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-05-07T22:21:51.241-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="I Love You Mom"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mom&#39;s love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mother&#39;s Day"/><title type='text'>Can I ever repay your unconditional love?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You brought me in this beautiful World&lt;br /&gt;
Going through a pain which I certainly would not bear&lt;br /&gt;
You understood I am hungry when no one else did&lt;br /&gt;
You smiled your angelic smile when I stood up on my own&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You taught me morals, you taught me what&#39;s right&lt;br /&gt;
You hugged me tight when I shivered with cold at night
&lt;br /&gt;
You showed me the path when I din&#39;t know where to go&lt;br /&gt;
You slapped me hard when I came home with a bruised elbow&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You believed in me when no one else did&lt;br /&gt;
You knew when I lied but still smiled&lt;br /&gt;
And said you trusted me&lt;br /&gt;
You got up before me during my exams to make me a cup of tea&lt;br /&gt;
You tolerated silently when I vented my frustration on you&lt;br /&gt;
You let me go out on my birthday even though you wanted me at home&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You loved me and without conditions&lt;br /&gt;
How could I ever repay for all that you had done for me?&lt;br /&gt;
All I can do is take care of you and Love You with all that I have&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Happy Mother&#39;s Day Mom!&lt;br /&gt;
I Love You!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2SIYM6ebrzYwMg1vN_hDo8itBTia8v3eiSMm7vrHimsERRyzf-2HDSQMlauzOaU55TNSI0GFbfzWCR5Y1Tmm4ShuvJSVLxgCB0kaizRIKOt3MNSMf9q6aH8ACOLpd3-nJkGFQFfRDjKk/s1600/Mom+n+Me.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2SIYM6ebrzYwMg1vN_hDo8itBTia8v3eiSMm7vrHimsERRyzf-2HDSQMlauzOaU55TNSI0GFbfzWCR5Y1Tmm4ShuvJSVLxgCB0kaizRIKOt3MNSMf9q6aH8ACOLpd3-nJkGFQFfRDjKk/s1600/Mom+n+Me.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dearest Mom&amp;nbsp;Dearest&amp;nbsp;Daughter :)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/4751761799895728070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/05/can-i-ever-repay-your-unconditional.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/4751761799895728070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/4751761799895728070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/05/can-i-ever-repay-your-unconditional.html' title='Can I ever repay your unconditional love?'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2SIYM6ebrzYwMg1vN_hDo8itBTia8v3eiSMm7vrHimsERRyzf-2HDSQMlauzOaU55TNSI0GFbfzWCR5Y1Tmm4ShuvJSVLxgCB0kaizRIKOt3MNSMf9q6aH8ACOLpd3-nJkGFQFfRDjKk/s72-c/Mom+n+Me.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-4031405144780863941</id><published>2012-04-22T22:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-04-26T02:12:20.678-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
I like my clothes at their shabbiest best&lt;br /&gt;
I like my hair left loose to the air&lt;br /&gt;
I like my life in a certain way&lt;br /&gt;
I can deal with you being the way you like and expect the same for me&lt;br /&gt;
I am ME&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am moody&lt;br /&gt;
I do not pay attention to half of the things you say&lt;br /&gt;
I take you for granted sometimes&lt;br /&gt;
I forget to keep in touch sometimes&lt;br /&gt;
But still I am ME&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am warm, loving and caring&lt;br /&gt;
I can breakdown for the simplest things and be strong in the toughest times&lt;br /&gt;
I cry when I see tears in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;
I say sorry for the silliest reasons&lt;br /&gt;
I am Me&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I may look grown up but I am a child at heart.&lt;br /&gt;
I may be silent sometimes that&#39;s because my thoughts are somewhere else&lt;br /&gt;
My heart is a deep ocean of secrets where you will drown&lt;br /&gt;
I am Me&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am not the best girl you&#39;ll ever meet&lt;br /&gt;
I lose it when you compare me to the perfect girl&lt;br /&gt;
I am not perfect in most of the things I do
&lt;br /&gt;
I am perfect in my own special way&lt;br /&gt;
I am Me&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I love&lt;br /&gt;
I laugh&lt;br /&gt;
I cry&lt;br /&gt;
I frown&lt;br /&gt;
I see&lt;br /&gt;
I feel&lt;br /&gt;
I live&lt;br /&gt;
I am Me&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/4031405144780863941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/04/i-am-me.html#comment-form' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/4031405144780863941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/4031405144780863941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/04/i-am-me.html' title='I am Me'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-5026440071996306781</id><published>2012-04-12T23:11:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2012-04-13T04:13:11.474-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="humour"/><title type='text'>A Letter to the Telecom Operators</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;Dear Telecom Operators,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We know that you guys are letting us stay connected with all our friends through your awesome network and great&amp;nbsp;connectivity&amp;nbsp;and trust me it&#39;s not a favor. We are charged a good amount to money for this each month which we pay without much ado. Other than letting us talk to our friends, you offer us a number of Value Added Services (VAS) like Hello Tunes (Or Dialer Tones or whatever), which are also not for Free. You charge a good Rs. 30 as a monthly Rental and Rs. 15 for every song we change even though I am sure it doesn&#39;t cost you so much. So when I give a call to my friend, I am curious to know what song has he on as his Hello Tune but this is what I listen to:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Press star and 9 to copy this song. Charges Rs. 15 for song selection and Rs. 30 per month for Hello Tune.. Hello...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, even before this irritating message is completed and I get to hear the song, my friend answers the call. Can you please tell me why is he paying you Rs. 30 per month? Is it so that we hear your never ending advertisements? Trust me, the boring trin trin is better than that lady&#39;s voice! She&#39;s so annoying!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I tell my friend I want to hear the song begging him not to answer the call. I am forced to hear the annoying message again and then the lovely song. Well, thank you for that. I appreciate that you remember playing the song after your so-important&amp;nbsp;advertisement.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ah! I can&#39;t blame you completely, can I? You do give me a free hand. Incase I do not want my callers to hear any promo, I have to make a call to you and plead for the same. Now, what do you think dude? Would there be anyone who would, in the first place, want that promo to be played? Then why play it and then remove it on request?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Recently, I&#39;ve noticed something else. I have a number of my friends who are Vodafone&amp;nbsp;Network&amp;nbsp;users. This is what I hear when I call them:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Switch to Vodafone now and enjoy all local calls at 1 paise for 2 seconds. &amp;nbsp;Trin Trin.....&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How should I tell you that I am not&amp;nbsp;interested&amp;nbsp;in switching to Vodafone? Is there a specific key I could press to tell you I am not, so that I don&#39;t have to hear that message again? How should I convey the message that I am happy with my current network even though it does suck sometimes? Though I am being charged some extra bucks, I still do not want to switch? May be I should send you a recorded voice because that&#39;s the language you probably understand.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We already see a lot of your advertisements on TV and we love them too. Isn&#39;t that enough? Please stop this nonsense or else I... what can I do? Other than just blogging? Ah! Never mind.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
P.S: I was so annoyed with these stupid ads that I had to write this post. Besides, there was no other topic I could think of.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
P.P.S: I am sorry that I am unable to read/comment on your posts. I am somehow keeping busy these days but I miss reading your posts. I will do stop by your blog this week and will leave comments too :)&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/5026440071996306781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/04/letter-to-telecom-operators.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/5026440071996306781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/5026440071996306781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/04/letter-to-telecom-operators.html' title='A Letter to the Telecom Operators'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-6300470841484492835</id><published>2012-04-05T02:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-04-05T05:29:33.515-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blogger contest"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="change"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="stayfree"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="time to change"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="traffic control"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="traffic rule"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="traffic sense"/><title type='text'>Time to Change - Let&#39;s Control Traffic!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgT930i5LT8ItYTlhEOflzM_OoZof46_yN-3kBVii1WZgszXlsbqESeUQAMa5aViSK-a9X40E_TuIULcuQvdZK2jzTK1il8aRf3ZqjaY1zO6Pbh_tmsHBGahN0ZtLlXWznrmpr7svqoIw/s1600/traffic-jam.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;272&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgT930i5LT8ItYTlhEOflzM_OoZof46_yN-3kBVii1WZgszXlsbqESeUQAMa5aViSK-a9X40E_TuIULcuQvdZK2jzTK1il8aRf3ZqjaY1zO6Pbh_tmsHBGahN0ZtLlXWznrmpr7svqoIw/s400/traffic-jam.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
If there&#39;s one thing which irks all of us around then that certainly is traffic! But what do we do to get that down?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Nothing!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We are the ones who complaint about the the roads being so busy. We crib about the ever-increasing traffic but do we ever leave our vehicles at home?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Never!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There could be a shop which is just half a kilometer away but we still go on our vehicle instead of walking. It takes ages for us to reach a certain place which would otherwise take half the time thanks to constant jams. The peak times are morning between 9:00 to 10:00 and evenings from 6:30 to 8:00. Sometimes, we are halted at a place for long that we could actually take a short nap!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, what could we actually do?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If I could change something around me, then that would be how the traffic is generally handled. My hero had actually mentioned this to me once and I really liked the idea. The idea is as&amp;nbsp;follows:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;li&gt;There should be a rule by the Government according to which all citizens should opt for a public transport&amp;nbsp;at-least&amp;nbsp;twice in a week so that less vehicles are seen on roads. This would help us in minimizing the jams to a certain level.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDqxpC2iOdakbX-VmU776yFY0l_zwT8TYLbV-RWeiSQZAbDg5NPdQ34aKCAAX4YAGCOEovoDdE33gDG36pqdGHsz-wiz4e3SHaSpdYpbqwdMe6dXVi-9MqEyO-RC5D7-v4c7JrxDoEJcQ/s1600/dev009355_123468076.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;250&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDqxpC2iOdakbX-VmU776yFY0l_zwT8TYLbV-RWeiSQZAbDg5NPdQ34aKCAAX4YAGCOEovoDdE33gDG36pqdGHsz-wiz4e3SHaSpdYpbqwdMe6dXVi-9MqEyO-RC5D7-v4c7JrxDoEJcQ/s400/dev009355_123468076.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;li&gt;There shouldn&#39;t be more than 2 vehicles in a house which has around 5 people. Now, why would you need&amp;nbsp;separate&amp;nbsp;bike/car for every person living in the same house?&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;A random day can be declared as No Red Car day (or some other color for that matter). So, every citizen owning a red car should leave his car at home (exceptions for any emergencies).&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Office hours should have a gap of atleast an hour. Like some companies should start functioning at 8 AM, some at 9 AM and so. This would lead to people leaving at different times, so minimum traffic. ;)&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A little change in our everyday life will leave a great impact on our environment. Also, walking for short distances like when you go Grocery shopping could actually give you a good health too. ;)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On a lighter note, sales people should be called by&amp;nbsp;companies&amp;nbsp;only when they would buy the product/service. All negotiations should be done over the phone so that the roads are not that busy during the day. You know there&#39;s no point in going to a client who would eventually not buy anything :P So, the customers around should call the sales reps only when they are actually buying and not for the heck of it. ;)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s time to think!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s time to change!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Written for&amp;nbsp;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.indiblogger.in/topic.php?topic=53&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Indiblogger&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;contest ,&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href=&quot;https://www.facebook.com/sftimetochange&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Time to Change&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, an initiative by Stayfree who believe, a little chance can make a big difference!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
P.S: I&#39;ve a soft corner for Sales people since I am a Sales Professional too! ;)&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/6300470841484492835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/04/time-to-change-lets-control-traffic.html#comment-form' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/6300470841484492835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/6300470841484492835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/04/time-to-change-lets-control-traffic.html' title='Time to Change - Let&#39;s Control Traffic!'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgT930i5LT8ItYTlhEOflzM_OoZof46_yN-3kBVii1WZgszXlsbqESeUQAMa5aViSK-a9X40E_TuIULcuQvdZK2jzTK1il8aRf3ZqjaY1zO6Pbh_tmsHBGahN0ZtLlXWznrmpr7svqoIw/s72-c/traffic-jam.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-8620049083974871498</id><published>2012-02-14T05:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-04-13T05:47:28.940-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="happiness"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life partner"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="memories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="valentine&#39;s day"/><title type='text'>A day worth remembering....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;It&#39;s that day of the year again when men&amp;nbsp;desperately&amp;nbsp;try wooing their women and women wait for surprises from their partners. So howz it for me?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The last year&#39;s Valentine&#39;s Day was my first Valentine with my hero. He was out of town (Kerala) on urgent work and was expected to return only on&amp;nbsp;February&amp;nbsp;16. I was feeling quite low and was&amp;nbsp;certainly&amp;nbsp;not happy as I expected a big surprise from him knowing his romantic side. But when I discussed with him my idea of Valentine&#39;s Day, I learnt how he dislikes the idea of celebrating love for just one day! I obviously was upset with his version as somehow I always loved Valentine&#39;s Day (&lt;i&gt;okay, I know this is girlish and absurd but I can&#39;t help it ;))&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I came to work on February 14, I received a cute customized e-card from him&amp;nbsp;on my email&amp;nbsp;with all our pictures beautifully arranged. Though I loved the card, I thought this is the least I could expect from an anti-Valentine&#39;s Day person. The previous day he told me that he&#39;s going to some hilly area in some part of Kerala on&amp;nbsp;February&amp;nbsp;14th to trek and he&#39;s phone would be out of reach (how much I hated this). &amp;nbsp;So, I gave up the idea of receiving any romantic surprises from him and decided to be by myself on V-Day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My&amp;nbsp;colleagues&amp;nbsp;cum friends were all excitedly telling me about their plans for the evening and I was wondering what I could possibly do. I saw his name flash on my mobile at around 11:30. I picked up the phone expecting nothing at all, speaking general things.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class=&quot;tr_bq&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;My Hero:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;What are you upto?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: Nothing. Just at work.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;My Hero&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Not going anywhere? I know I am not there but you could always go out with Deepa or anyone else right?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;Yeah rite!&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;Ah. Yeah but I guess I will go home. Everyone have got plans of their own (&lt;i&gt;trying to sound as upset as I can)&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;My Hero&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Oh. By the way, what would you do if I come in front of you right now?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Err. What?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;My Hero&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Look back. (&lt;i&gt;I was in speaking to him from my office&#39;s entrance)&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;What? Oh my God!!!! You here!!!!!&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://harsharajgatty.files.wordpress.com/2009/12/happy-face.gif&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;http://harsharajgatty.files.wordpress.com/2009/12/happy-face.gif&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I jumped with joy when I saw him in front of me smiling! I rushed to him and gave him a tight hug (as tight as I could ;)).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class=&quot;tr_bq&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: Weren&#39;t you in Kerala? How did you come? And so&amp;nbsp;suddenly? You din&#39;t tell me!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;My Hero:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;How would that be a surprise then? I came via plane to take my sweet heart out on the day which means a lot to her. I finished my work way in advance to be with you today.&amp;nbsp;It doesn&#39;t matter if I like this day or not.&amp;nbsp;You love it so do I. :)&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I was moved by this gesture of his. I&#39;d never thought he would come just because I like the idea of celebrating Valentine&#39;s Day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What did I do next? Ofcourse I took an off immediately and went out with my love. We had pizza at Pizza Hut (I love pizzas), caught some English movie and then headed to our then&amp;nbsp;favourite&amp;nbsp;Cafe Coffee Day. :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No matter how special he makes my each Valentine, the one day I would cherish and remember forever would be the last year&#39;s one. :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
P.S: Happy Valentine&#39;s Day people! ;)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/8620049083974871498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/02/day-worth-remembering.html#comment-form' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/8620049083974871498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/8620049083974871498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2012/02/day-worth-remembering.html' title='A day worth remembering....'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635635714657465047.post-9169832301284893989</id><published>2011-12-20T01:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-26T04:28:20.678-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Dusty"/><title type='text'>Changes post Dusty&#39;s home coming :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://namratam.blogspot.com/2011/08/most-beautiful-gift.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: white;&quot;&gt;Dusty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt; came home on August 22, 2011 and she was barely a month old. She&#39;s about 5 months old now (her birthday is July 20) and let me tell you she&#39;s full of life! Watching her grow is one the best things right now in my life. She&#39;s tenacious, hyper-active and truly a bitch! ;)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The other day I was trying to list the benefits of having her at home. So, that&#39;s when&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;I thought about writing this post!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here&#39;s a list of things which we hardly need at home now thanks to Dusty!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Body Lotion:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt; With winters here, a body lotion is a basic need to keep dry skin at bay. Not for us! The moment we step out of the bathroom after a shower, Dusty comes running and licks our feet and hands! Our Ration Guy is curious to know why we ain&#39;t including a body lotion in the grocery list. He doesn&#39;t know that we have a better body lotion with us! ;)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mop Stick/Broom:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; We don&#39;t broom or mop the house from the time Dusty came home as it&#39;s barely needed. Anything that falls on the floor can be found in Dusty&#39;s mouth. Right from spilled tea to even money (she ate a 20 rupee note too!), she doesn&#39;t leave anything!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Alarm:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt; I feel Dusty licking my face at sharp 6:00 AM in the morning. I try covering myself with my&amp;nbsp;blanket&amp;nbsp;but she bites my face through it! If I try to move away, she gets on the bed and jumps on me! I no longer put an alarm as Dusty works better than that!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Stuffed Toys:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt; I&#39;ve got quite a decent collection of Stuffed toys and I love cuddling with them. But now with Dusty around, my stuffed toys lay at a corner and I hardly look at them (except the one My Hero gifted me on my birthday). Dusty&#39;s softer than a cotton ball and cuddling with her feels so good! :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There are few things which no&amp;nbsp;longer&amp;nbsp;belong to us!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Sleep:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt; There&#39;s no room for sleep anymore in our lives as Dusty wakes up as early as 3:30 and starts barking till we take her for a walk!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Bed:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &amp;nbsp;She&#39;s quite grown up now and gets on the bed without much ado. She occupies half of the bed like a queen. :) At around 5:00 A.M. daily in the morning, she jumps on my bed and pushes me away and sleeps there as if the bed belongs to her! My bed is no longer mine! :(&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkUJrC9bCyoe7y0-Movc0hSXxX6z3j6awhpSgL4gBrnCGEyWT_TC8pnGpOSLyge_Bajhul_PVUUUN2yHsi4pltwsYh7zJ1ptOs7Ff8-KSlGutW2zLp10W2znT_-aIeU5fnxP7iZQ_pVc/s1600/2011-12-17+10.50.57.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkUJrC9bCyoe7y0-Movc0hSXxX6z3j6awhpSgL4gBrnCGEyWT_TC8pnGpOSLyge_Bajhul_PVUUUN2yHsi4pltwsYh7zJ1ptOs7Ff8-KSlGutW2zLp10W2znT_-aIeU5fnxP7iZQ_pVc/s400/2011-12-17+10.50.57.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSNGcwIZTsSH-tjLe2JZWrlAqkHt2SlZdgQ6BCApT_yFF7Wj63-qAyCj-nugaPwjar09yq8xSWZXILZB3C5TccG9jX36-Sc9RJN09CPpV0B7AafjD-QNgdurTPp7v3aiI6L6woA3S_wL8/s1600/2011-12-17+10.51.38.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSNGcwIZTsSH-tjLe2JZWrlAqkHt2SlZdgQ6BCApT_yFF7Wj63-qAyCj-nugaPwjar09yq8xSWZXILZB3C5TccG9jX36-Sc9RJN09CPpV0B7AafjD-QNgdurTPp7v3aiI6L6woA3S_wL8/s400/2011-12-17+10.51.38.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;Dusty on my bed!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;And the last one:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Tensions:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt; When Dusty gazes at me innocently, tensions take a back seat. Once I got Pizza home, everyone at home had a slice of it (except Dusty). My Dad was busy playing some game on the laptop so he kept his slice on the table and thought he will eat it in a while. The next minute the pizza was gone! When we looked around, we found Dusty enjoying the Pizza under the bed! We bursted out laughing and she din&#39;t care! Such&amp;nbsp;mischievous&amp;nbsp;acts of hers makes me forget everything else and gets a smile on my face. :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvSX2xF4pyY08ggtmBIBu-AA_kbeamGDTQTR3QwQJfp_rfW1IsENwjRUFO3mFYOk5h9VmwqFKQs_vVNw1lrxx4Sn5ZLdNf9DFgPZ3mKhxR4WpLEFJ8fJFZz1ZWj18EVnlc2HbsRKVbrjE/s1600/2011-12-15+07.40.26.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvSX2xF4pyY08ggtmBIBu-AA_kbeamGDTQTR3QwQJfp_rfW1IsENwjRUFO3mFYOk5h9VmwqFKQs_vVNw1lrxx4Sn5ZLdNf9DFgPZ3mKhxR4WpLEFJ8fJFZz1ZWj18EVnlc2HbsRKVbrjE/s400/2011-12-15+07.40.26.jpg&quot; width=&quot;300&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYDqhVpxDbVYG2gGbloa8lTvMjxe6fC7zINa6QAOPZlxZbZPjvr-wtlOHLNGFvBkT37_4jOsgcnM7SP5O1kuDOVBeKgi0igzy7Ixd-gn2n5bbkAWJLflwaVo-KpYbhJymJFiB8sYwEGpg/s1600/2011-12-11+11.41.42.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYDqhVpxDbVYG2gGbloa8lTvMjxe6fC7zINa6QAOPZlxZbZPjvr-wtlOHLNGFvBkT37_4jOsgcnM7SP5O1kuDOVBeKgi0igzy7Ixd-gn2n5bbkAWJLflwaVo-KpYbhJymJFiB8sYwEGpg/s400/2011-12-11+11.41.42.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAP9-lm9ceDp1fBi2mycDgehY8vOwWE84TdH2Uvs69qo-_BrN6gldKczdsPfvjQR_8WSmgDdxDuqwRyXzfE76yUdgzAaKvrRRpcOC0eOXOuVAhaG4FqMq1E0vyyMpZeDumAxyZ6LYXrss/s1600/13112011312.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAP9-lm9ceDp1fBi2mycDgehY8vOwWE84TdH2Uvs69qo-_BrN6gldKczdsPfvjQR_8WSmgDdxDuqwRyXzfE76yUdgzAaKvrRRpcOC0eOXOuVAhaG4FqMq1E0vyyMpZeDumAxyZ6LYXrss/s400/13112011312.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;Eating a stolen banana :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZ0QRAexgU4ct7HO2eGaYLrYdaOr58uSgRoxdSQi6-flDrsIeyp4jYdp96visZ4QvvUYsBtsAyBt3YQ7dOxdInn-5OXuJDdmEO6WRx8JxRwMPALR30zupIvbCWdWsZQWUVGBVVtbgBjo/s1600/Dusty+new.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZ0QRAexgU4ct7HO2eGaYLrYdaOr58uSgRoxdSQi6-flDrsIeyp4jYdp96visZ4QvvUYsBtsAyBt3YQ7dOxdInn-5OXuJDdmEO6WRx8JxRwMPALR30zupIvbCWdWsZQWUVGBVVtbgBjo/s400/Dusty+new.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyFZy8t8GgDY05n6wqRtC_59mPhqjWRMFcpKXMGXZUTCV93v03Fb3XQQWFqq3SMg3MI-NPoiXbhah_y9R1Hu0h87wm3pqC92eOZ9hDwNIsTB3PLkx9wKNRDLFgY6DCeUzH84WkcnOu49A/s1600/Dusty+new+6.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyFZy8t8GgDY05n6wqRtC_59mPhqjWRMFcpKXMGXZUTCV93v03Fb3XQQWFqq3SMg3MI-NPoiXbhah_y9R1Hu0h87wm3pqC92eOZ9hDwNIsTB3PLkx9wKNRDLFgY6DCeUzH84WkcnOu49A/s400/Dusty+new+6.jpg&quot; width=&quot;300&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_HWBqzov6G9LuPjGE1JrCBk471Ebmj6LSCXJ54GVB_7Ofv4URsEM4rob11qaklYrOgD-qFjj2xIWq2abS91WsKbQY8LnC7ovRQEHjJKE02qcDaIXN4nqrUKvvRvazOwkH7qXVJ9PElYY/s1600/picture2life_78131_original.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_HWBqzov6G9LuPjGE1JrCBk471Ebmj6LSCXJ54GVB_7Ofv4URsEM4rob11qaklYrOgD-qFjj2xIWq2abS91WsKbQY8LnC7ovRQEHjJKE02qcDaIXN4nqrUKvvRvazOwkH7qXVJ9PElYY/s400/picture2life_78131_original.jpg&quot; width=&quot;395&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;Collage :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/feeds/9169832301284893989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2011/12/changes-after-dusty-coming-home.html#comment-form' title='24 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/9169832301284893989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635635714657465047/posts/default/9169832301284893989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namratam.blogspot.com/2011/12/changes-after-dusty-coming-home.html' title='Changes post Dusty&#39;s home coming :)'/><author><name>Namrata Mahalingam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13572999419520874804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHzzZpWpREYEDeGrkOeE6ERhSMqHoapZJzXIW8xNxHwFcW9kSE6aCiJKnmHJ1qO0k7XLLCc1xNTCL3ih98f8loz90Re7SyDd3tLoxaCQdZ_Q66B3KwO-SArllLBkHyy8/s220/2012-08-15+17.15.53.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkUJrC9bCyoe7y0-Movc0hSXxX6z3j6awhpSgL4gBrnCGEyWT_TC8pnGpOSLyge_Bajhul_PVUUUN2yHsi4pltwsYh7zJ1ptOs7Ff8-KSlGutW2zLp10W2znT_-aIeU5fnxP7iZQ_pVc/s72-c/2011-12-17+10.50.57.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>24</thr:total></entry></feed>