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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DkcMQ3c6eCp7ImA9WhRUGUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32880268</id><updated>2012-01-30T12:08:02.910-08:00</updated><category term="childhood" /><category term="pen" /><category term="commercial" /><category term="watch" /><category term="death" /><category term="bathing" /><category term="Thoughts" /><category term="cleanliness" /><category term="cartoons" /><category term="nature" /><category term="MondayBlues" /><category term="biking" /><category term="Environment" /><category 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term="obviousness" /><category term="Infatuation" /><category term="self-conflict" /><category term="space" /><category term="curiosity" /><category term="pencil" /><category term="Science Fiction" /><category term="take a break" /><category term="Swine Flu" /><category term="change" /><category term="Harry Potter" /><category term="gtalk" /><category term="hacking" /><category term="marriage" /><category term="winter" /><category term="honesty" /><category term="memories" /><category term="animation" /><category term="Natural Machines" /><category term="good habits" /><category term="internet" /><category term="Diwali" /><category term="mobile phone" /><category term="driving" /><category term="spitting" /><category term="zodiac sign" /><category term="poems" /><category term="anecdote" /><category term="observation" /><category term="idea" /><category term="superhero" /><category term="55wordFiction" /><category term="office" /><category term="birthday" /><category term="politics" /><category term="culture" /><category term="romantic" /><category term="experience" /><category term="music" /><category term="name" /><category term="terrorism" /><category term="Wastage" /><category term="life" /><category term="time" /><category term="expansion" /><category term="friendship" /><category term="dreams" /><category term="food" /><category term="discipline" /><category term="holi" /><category term="career" /><category term="Orkut" /><category term="fear" /><title>Just Like That !</title><subtitle type="html">Exploring subtleties of life and various ideas that cross my mind!</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Abhishek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05519234767682408962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uJWXOLIAe0c/TJXs4527d1I/AAAAAAAABKw/kzKxi764hmo/S220/me.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>175</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/blogspot/HnHcb" /><feedburner:info uri="blogspot/hnhcb" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUYNR3wyeyp7ImA9WhRUFkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32880268.post-1674443883105466700</id><published>2012-01-26T13:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T13:26:36.293-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-26T13:26:36.293-08:00</app:edited><title>The Tie knot</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
It was in 6th class that we had to wear a proper tie and not the one with elastic and ready-made knot in it. That was when I considered wearing a tie a nuisance, because I couldn't figure out how to tie the knot. It took me few weeks to understand. Meanwhile my father used to tie it for me and I used to carefully take it off so as not to disturb the knot, and wore the same next day, and tightened the knot to fit my neck. But I did enjoy tightening of knot while looking at the mirror, and adjusting my tie, holding that tie knot that looks like a samosa.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uu9doQ4hIv0/TyHDrMGhR2I/AAAAAAAABSc/-JirP5cexh4/s1600/tie_mirror.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="223" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uu9doQ4hIv0/TyHDrMGhR2I/AAAAAAAABSc/-JirP5cexh4/s320/tie_mirror.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Finally when I understood the trick behind the tie knot, the tie became my favorite attire in the uniform! And I used to proudly explain to others the intricacies of the tie knot! I even played around with the tie after coming back from school, so as to figure out how to use a tie in a street fight or combat, to distract the enemy.&lt;br /&gt;
I was rather disappointed when wearing ties were not allowed in summers. The only thing I looked forward to in winters now, was wearing tie in my school uniform, along with the blazer; I felt like a gentleman then! I still do, when I'm in a suit with a tie!&lt;br /&gt;
BTW, has anyone tried to kill him/herself using a tie knot? I do think that someone with a lot of optimism must have come up with the idea of wearing a tie. He must have seen people being hanged. Put the image of the hanging rope around the neck of the person, and you'll get a tie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-1674443883105466700?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gnb1ovFLifY/TxGp3gaN_3I/AAAAAAAABSI/EApPlqiT8Lk/s1600/lizard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="172" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gnb1ovFLifY/TxGp3gaN_3I/AAAAAAAABSI/EApPlqiT8Lk/s200/lizard.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
I don't remember my first tryst with a lizard but my mother tells me 
that I used to scare the hell out of them and they used to run for their
 dear lives!&lt;br /&gt;
That was when I was perhaps 3 or 4 years old, when 
nothing scared me, maybe because I really didn't understand things, was 
just exploring, looking around, touching them, sniffing them, putting 
them in my mouth! No! I didn't put a lizard in my mouth, couldn't catch 
them properly because they are fast. I did however caught a few by their
 tail. And they shed their tail and run away when caught by their tail. I
 was too young to know all this, my mother told me about it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Since the time I can remember, the presence of a lizard has 
scared me! I could feel the fear flow through my body alongside my blood
 when someone indicated presence of a lizard nearby. My eyes would 
carefully but hastily scan the possible areas in the room, i.e., 
everywhere, for the presence of the green reptile. And when I spotted 
it, I avoided that section of the room till I forgot that a lizard had 
been in that section. And if I couldn't spot a lizard, I'd assume it was
 in one of the hidden corners of my room, i.e., under the bed, study 
table or inside my cupboard, and avoided those areas till my mind didn't
 pay attention to the existence of a lizard nearby.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think sometime in the past my mother must have shrieked at 
witnessing a lizard crawl out from behind the door and hastily move 
upwards on the wall, to feast on the insects partying around the 
tubelight. And her reaction must have shaken and stirred me up as well. 
She does get startled even now but its not as dramatic. And whenever 
this happens, my gaze instinctively follows the lizard to watch it feast
 on the insects partying near the tubelight.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Once late at night I woke up to visit the toilet. I switched 
on its light and when I slowly opened the door inwards with my right 
arm, I felt something fall on my arm. For a brief second I looked at it,
 loudly shrieked, then shook my arm vigorously. I could hear my mother 
walking towards me from behind. For a moment I could feel it move 
hastily on my arm, then fall on the floor and go away. I could feel my 
heart beat as fast as a racing bullet! I didn't visit that toilet that 
night and for several nights after that. This was my most horrifying 
experience with the green reptile. But I soon got over it, and if they 
keep their distance, I'm fine with them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A lizard nearby did scare me for quite many years, but from a 
distance I have always enjoyed following it with my gaze across the wall
 or the floor, on the study table, the door, the bed, etc. I would wait 
for it to leap to catch with its mouth a small insect and in few bites 
swallow the whole of it. It then stays in that position for sometime 
before moving on to further tasks that it might have.&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes 
I've stared into the eyes of the lizard while it stays in the same 
position. Sometimes I've tried to get as close as possible before taking
 its pic.&lt;br /&gt;
BTW, lizards eat mosquitoes, that's one more reason why I
 have left behind my fear of lizards and embrace their presence in my 
room, and hope they be a Good Knight for me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-1292488278637020708?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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It was while walking down the road to my hostel (OBH) in IIIT-Hyderabad, that I decided to try blind walk. I was about 11 PM and the road was deserted. I'd been on that road like a million times so I decided to see how well I remembered it. It was a straight road, and nobody was walking on it, not even dogs. I closed my eyes, and decided to stop only at the end of the road. How would I know I'd reached the end of the road, I didn't know, but I started anyways. I started from the center of the road and took few steps quickly, then slowed my pace, then after few steps slowed it further, and with every next step tried to make sure I was keeping my foot on the road only. After some 15 steps, I suddenly opened my eyes and found myself one step away from hitting the pavement. That was disappointing. I couldn't even walk straight, I couldn't even trust my own legs !!!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3-DPCoPOi8c/TwwzQasF0aI/AAAAAAAABSA/tdaukKB12eI/s1600/lonely-walk-road-sad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3-DPCoPOi8c/TwwzQasF0aI/AAAAAAAABSA/tdaukKB12eI/s320/lonely-walk-road-sad.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I tried this experiment a few times but failed to reach the end of the road everytime. This fear of falling, this uncertainty without vision stopped me from going beyond a certain distance everytime I tried to. I gave up on blindwalk and went back to walking on the edge of the pavement, balancing my steps till the end of the road. One step in front of the other, carefully placed on that tiny black/white edge of the pavement, sometimes covered with soil and made it slippery. I made sure my foot was carefully placed within the given dimensions each time. However, I realized that this is not how we naturally walk, we can't place both our feet in that one straight line while walking, they need two different closeby parallel lines for a comfortable walk. Anyways, this was easier than the blind walk because I could see, and quickly react in case of imbalance. In a few days, I became quite good at it. I thought that good balance can help me in my Karate practice as well, which I'd left for quite some time. Besides, walking alone from the research lab to hostel can be boring and this kept my mind engaged.&lt;br /&gt;
A few weeks later, I got the notification from the conference committee that my paper had been Rejected, on reasonable grounds of course. After reading the reviews I realized that I should pay attention to the 'related work' section and the 'experiments' section. Had I been more vigilant and less of a slacker, my paper would have been easily accepted! One of the three authors had given 'weakly accept' to it, one gave 'weak reject' and the third one, 'strong reject'.&lt;br /&gt;
Anyways, I could feel the dejection in the silence of the night as I walked back to my hostel room. As always, the road down to my hostel was deserted. I hopped on to the pavement and started walking on its edge but stepped down immediately. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I guess I wasn't in the mood that night. I just wanted to feel this silence, this cold still air, the shadows of the trees from the street lights. I just wanted to be in the moment, and lose every thought in my mind, every purpose of my life. I stood there with my eyes closed. But then it occurred to me that I should go back to hostel before the dog's gang wars start, which usually begins after midnight. I didn't feel like opening my eyes and looking at the hostel I'd been living in for so many years. I felt it was taunting me that I couldn't even publish a paper. I started walking slowly, soaking in the whole moment. I felt every motion in my body, my arms disturbing the still air, my nose taking in deep breaths, my legs taking one step at a time and landing on the even surface of the road. The end of the road has a depression where we had a speedbreaker earlier, and I was trying to keep my legs aware of the change in the texture of the road. But then I had stopped thinking at that time, I just didn't want to care anymore. What I felt can't be termed as anger or disappointment, it was perhaps acute indifference. The fear of falling and getting hurt had paled away in front of the growing anguish over wasting away the best years in pursuit of something while getting dragged down by my vices and bad habits. The mishmash had now become too much!&lt;br /&gt;
Spending some quite time in my mind felt good and I wanted it to continue. I didn't even realize I was walking while I kept moving towards the end of the road. Suddenly I felt the bright light of the street light in front of my hostel. I knew I was near to the end of the road. My leg became alert and sensed for the dent in the road. Finally I stepped on it and after few more steps opened my eyes to the stairs straight into the hostel.&lt;br /&gt;
That night was not inspiring in true sense, as I never mended my bad habits, nor did I get a publication for quite some time after that. However I did walk till the end of the road, with my eyes closed. I realized that I must stop thinking and trust myself to do the right thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-1126179521647837748?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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I don't remember my first interaction with a girl of my age but I do 
remember looking at girls differently than boys since my earliest 
memories. Reason, they wore skirts! They had longer hair. Their smile 
was more attractive. They didn't play sports... basically many reasons. 
Moreover, I never felt comfortable when some girl used to join us in our
 quest to destroy imaginary enemy camps and kill all the imaginary 
terrorists. We had to run, use firearms, girls couldn't do that!&lt;br /&gt;
Anyways, bottom line is that I
 knew from Day 1 of my existence that girls are different than boys, 
nobody had to tell me that. Sure, in childhood I had some female friends
 too and even though my best friends were boys only, being in a girl's 
company felt different. It just happens, it always happens.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
During
 my teenage years, girls started looking attractive and I became 
conscious. I wasn't sure why it happened and wasn't sure how to behave 
with a girl, so I preferred silence and speaking only when spoken to. 
This way I spent my teenage years falling in and out of various one 
sided infatuations.&lt;br /&gt;
College days were fruitless too. Not too many 
girls around. Besides, my self-conscious nature didn't allow me to talk 
to even those girls, and it got worse with every next day. Earlier I was
 hesitant, then I even started stammering a bit while talking to a girl,
 along with high heart beat rate and clumsiness. In fact, I couldn't 
even take a girl's name, I felt so hesitant. I felt a knot in my tummy. I
 felt a force pulled me back whenever I tried to talk to a girl. I guess
 I had become like Robinson Crusoe, who has been away from better half 
of humanity during best part of his life!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In my 5th 
year 
in college, I joined &lt;a href="http://www.meetup.com/MadhapurTM/" target="_blank"&gt;Madhapur Toastmasters&lt;/a&gt;. Life wasn't going anywhere in those 
days. Moreover, I always wanted to get over my fear of public speaking 
and forget forever those failed attempts to finish my speech on stage. I
 got many opportunities to talk to girls in Toastmasters meetings. 
Toastmasters are always eager to meet new people and make them feel 
welcome, be it in our meetings or elsewhere. And interacting with so 
many girls in person has perhaps helped me be more confident when 
talking to a girl. And in the process I think I might have made some 
female friends in Toastmasters!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I got placed
 in Capital IQ after spending 6 years in college, 
based only on what I studied in first 4 years! One good thing happened 
though, many girls joined in the technology team as well. During our 
orientation, during our training period, and during our tech team 
outing, I got to interact with some girls. They've been friendly and 
nice to me but I confess and I feel bad about it, that I haven't been so
 friendly and nice. Maybe because its not like it used to be in school days, 
even though we do have lunch breaks, and coffee breaks! I hope 
interacting with girls becomes as normal to me as it was in school days 
(before high school).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A person gets some chances in his life to change before 
taking on the 'real world' alone. I got many chances as I studied in 
many schools, then stayed in a hostel in college, and now I've joined a 
company. The irony here is that I've been the ugly duckling because I'm quite 
the opposite of what an army kid would be like. (army kid = person whose
 parent, father mostly, is in the army).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But as famously said by 
Coelho, if you really want something, the whole universe conspires to 
help you achieve it. And I think the wheel has been set in motion since I
 joined Toastmasters and later gained momentum when I joined Capital IQ.
 All I want is to be comfortable while talking 
and interacting with girls, have some female friends and maybe sometime 
later, a girlfriend also!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-1420922429571087730?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5cE_qFBRKt5TtumsQo9pDdgtqd4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5cE_qFBRKt5TtumsQo9pDdgtqd4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~4/G5fpKqiSjYY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/feeds/1420922429571087730/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32880268&amp;postID=1420922429571087730" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/1420922429571087730?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/1420922429571087730?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~3/G5fpKqiSjYY/girls.html" title="Girls" /><author><name>Abhishek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05519234767682408962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uJWXOLIAe0c/TJXs4527d1I/AAAAAAAABKw/kzKxi764hmo/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>6</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/2011/12/girls.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08MRHo7fCp7ImA9WhRWEUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32880268.post-4162352508139077912</id><published>2011-12-29T08:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-29T09:31:25.404-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-29T09:31:25.404-08:00</app:edited><title>The middle finger and the thumb</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
Everyone wants to be the best, right? But one must always remember, 
that everything has its pros and cons! For example, the middle finger. 
It stands tall among other fingers and is the 'center' of attraction. 
However this has lead to some bad experiences for the middle finger. The
 most common example, if a person has to show his machismo, he uses his 
middle finger to show how tall his tallest finger is. This confuses me as to how this truly shows the strength of a person!&lt;br /&gt;
Thumb
 has also been exploited in similar ways. Being the fattest finger, it 
enjoys prosperity as it has good amount of empty space in the hand to 
spread around and doesn't have to adjust with other fingers. But it is 
also shown to others to mock them by boasting about thickness of one's 
thumb, by waving it sideways! Poor thumb. However, it has been used by 
many for a noble cause as well, to wish good luck. I guess that's why 
Laughing Buddha is fat, like a thumb amongst fingers, as it signifies 
good luck and prosperity.&lt;br /&gt;
Now you may wonder, being a middle 
finger or thumb is so much better than the little finger. Agreed, but 
little finger has its own quality, its the cutest of all!&lt;br /&gt;
The 
index finger seems to be the balanced one. It acts like a leader, but 
also points things out, in a positive or negative way. And yeah, it got 
some ego too !!&lt;br /&gt;
Best is to be the 'ring' finger! It doesn't meddle
 with anybody else's business/affairs and keeps to itself in spite of 
being amongst others. Its rightly chosen to wear the wedding ring 
because its like a married person !!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R_RvxBS8pqQ/TvyjjfE-PAI/AAAAAAAABR4/kq2-xsOVw4o/s1600/fingers-punta-deleste.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R_RvxBS8pqQ/TvyjjfE-PAI/AAAAAAAABR4/kq2-xsOVw4o/s400/fingers-punta-deleste.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When leadership works with talent, we get 'peace'. (index+middle finger).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When leadership works with prosperity, we get happiness. (index+thumb finger) Because that gesture is to urge someone to smile!&lt;br /&gt;
The
 ring finger and the thumb working together doesn't really fit... now we
 know why a married person doesn't have much prosperity, and we know why
 !! :P&lt;br /&gt;
However, the star and the highlights of one's hand will
 always be the middle finger and the thumb. Moreover, when the two work 
together, under the able guidance of the index finger, wonderful things 
happen! How else do you think you can hold a pen and write?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-4162352508139077912?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6OsoeZW8WcZUWSTtdRsuY43nFiQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6OsoeZW8WcZUWSTtdRsuY43nFiQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~4/Bz15UVF4FNg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/feeds/4162352508139077912/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32880268&amp;postID=4162352508139077912" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/4162352508139077912?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/4162352508139077912?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~3/Bz15UVF4FNg/middle-finger-and-thumb.html" title="The middle finger and the thumb" /><author><name>Abhishek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05519234767682408962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uJWXOLIAe0c/TJXs4527d1I/AAAAAAAABKw/kzKxi764hmo/S220/me.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R_RvxBS8pqQ/TvyjjfE-PAI/AAAAAAAABR4/kq2-xsOVw4o/s72-c/fingers-punta-deleste.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/2011/12/middle-finger-and-thumb.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUHR3w5fip7ImA9WhRWEEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32880268.post-6100114473003926520</id><published>2011-12-27T11:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-28T07:30:36.226-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-28T07:30:36.226-08:00</app:edited><title>One Night Stand</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I am a procrastinator, and looks like this time I miscalculated BIG time!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6_mkPB2q67k/Tvs153vje5I/AAAAAAAABRs/qH7tHbbG1Vg/s1600/The-night-before-an-exam-is-like-Christmas-eve-You-stay-up-and-hope-for-a-miracle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6_mkPB2q67k/Tvs153vje5I/AAAAAAAABRs/qH7tHbbG1Vg/s200/The-night-before-an-exam-is-like-Christmas-eve-You-stay-up-and-hope-for-a-miracle.jpg" width="153" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;
Abhishek
 sat on his bed in his hostel room, with heavy dinner of chole bathoore 
digesting in his tummy! While he felt groggy, he knew he couldn't give up,
 not tonight. It was already 9 PM, about 11 hours left before the exam, 
and 12 research papers were still left to be read, each research paper at 
least 6 pages long. Even if he skip the experiments and results section, he'll still have to read 4 pages at least. With these calculations in his
 mind, he was at least hopeful to read each paper once, and sleep by 3 
AM. Again, he miscalculated!&lt;br /&gt;
At 3 AM, still 7 papers were left. 
His neighbor who was studying with him in his room had given up an hour ago and 
slept off in his bed. With no bed to sleep, Abhishek realized he 
actually won't need to sleep if he really wants to finish his syllabus. 
Heroically trudging through the murky and muddy areas of the research 
papers, he finally managed to read 10 of them, with 2 hours to spare!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Atul, wake up Atul! Its 6 o'clock, wake up! Study something at least!"&lt;br /&gt;
"Oye, sone de" (hey let me sleep), Atul grumbled groggily.&lt;br /&gt;
Abhishek realized his fellow warrior had given up the will to fight. 'But I won't give up', he told himself, 'I will NEVER!'&lt;br /&gt;
With
 renewed vigor and beautiful view of sunrise from window of his room, he
 got back to studying the research papers. At 7:10 AM, he had finished 
his syllabus! Ah, he relaxed for the first time in last 10 hours, then 
immediately stopped relaxing. A daunting thought crossed his mind, 
'Without sleep how will I sit through 3 hours of exam!'&lt;br /&gt;
At the ring 
of warning bell at 11:15 AM, Abhishek got up, submitted his answer 
sheets, and walked out of the exam hall. Its finally over, he exclaimed to himself, and 
stopped somewhere in between the corridor, looking to his left, then to 
his right, and then around him at people, surprised that they were 
unaware that a miracle just took place!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Two weeks later, Abhishek got the grade for that course -- A.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-6100114473003926520?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KoEEtWz5A1U/TvbK1oAyDPI/AAAAAAAABRU/keKWBbcefJA/s1600/deer-wallpapers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KoEEtWz5A1U/TvbK1oAyDPI/AAAAAAAABRU/keKWBbcefJA/s200/deer-wallpapers.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Whenever I think of Christmas, the first thing that comes to mind is 
Santa in his red and white dress. And whenever I think of Santa, I think
 of flying with him in his sleigh! Imagine riding in his sleigh, flying 
into the night sky, over the city lights. This scene reminds me of 
Superman and I wish I could also fly like Superman or at least ride in 
Santa's Sleigh!&lt;br /&gt;
Flight is something that fascinates me the most! 
The closest I've come to 'flying' is flying in an aeroplane but one 
can't really enjoy the scenic beauty outside by looking through the 
window of the plane. They should make bigger windows at least!&lt;br /&gt;
When
 I think of such scenic beauty, two things come to mind. One is the 
hovering clouds in the sky. While sitting in a plane and peeping out, 
you see the clouds below you and you feel you're actually flying higher 
than what your eyes could see from down below. The second thing that 
comes to mind is the earth down below, which looks as if God himself has
 created a mosaic that we live in and mistake it for forests, farms, 
buildings etc.&lt;br /&gt;
Coming back to Santa, I heard/saw in TV shows that 
whenever Santa crosses a home from above, he puts the gift in the fire 
chimney, and next day the gift appears in the stockings! I feel Santa 
has been doing a pretty good job as the official mascot of Christmas! 
But seriously, receiving gift feels so good. And you know what feels 
even more good? To see the happiness in the other person's face when 
he/she receives and opens your gift.&lt;br /&gt;
Christmas is the reason we had 
winter vacations in school, and for that I am grateful! But to me 
Christmas is not just about flying with Santa, receiving gifts or 
enjoying the vacation, its also a reminder that on this day, long time 
ago, a man was born who has been regarded as God. He was God indeed, for
 he served Humanity and taught us to live in peace and harmony. He sacrificed himself, he suffered for our sins as the legend goes. Believers say that Jesus will absolve us of our sins. He certainly will, but only for you to start anew a better life, not to start committing sins again! In realitiy, sins can't be absolved completely, but the effect can be balanced out with good deeds.&lt;br /&gt;
So while we celebrate Christmas, let us not forget that it is Jesus's birthday and we must gift him something. If nothing else, we can at least live in peace and harmony, and do good to everyone around us. I feel that had we listened to Jesus and followed his path, in other words, the path of goodliness, we might have already established human colonies in Mars, made a fully functional time machine for common people and wouldn't have any poverty. In other words, total progress, because of no time wasted in having bitter feelings!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Merry Christmas everyone! Have a good day! Be a Santa to someone today, and a Jesus to everyone everyday. :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-1699305326804103860?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5v9OYP0Qp-LzNRU0f7cM3hUC1hc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5v9OYP0Qp-LzNRU0f7cM3hUC1hc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~4/vvwWqAuIa5s" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/feeds/1699305326804103860/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32880268&amp;postID=1699305326804103860" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/1699305326804103860?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/1699305326804103860?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~3/vvwWqAuIa5s/christmas-thoughts.html" title="Christmas Thoughts" /><author><name>Abhishek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05519234767682408962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uJWXOLIAe0c/TJXs4527d1I/AAAAAAAABKw/kzKxi764hmo/S220/me.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KoEEtWz5A1U/TvbK1oAyDPI/AAAAAAAABRU/keKWBbcefJA/s72-c/deer-wallpapers.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-thoughts.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEICQns_fip7ImA9WhRVFUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32880268.post-6559574491879456521</id><published>2011-12-22T10:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-14T06:49:23.546-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-14T06:49:23.546-08:00</app:edited><title>School in Winters</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
Sniffing more heavily
 than panting, he jogged towards the school bus, clutching his bag 
hanging on his shoulders. The sunshine after about a week of foggy days 
felt refreshing. Too tired and nervous to speak, he continued to chase 
the school bus till one of his friends noticed him and asked the driver 
to halt. Abhishek carefully caught the railing and climbed the uneven 
steps into the bus. He felt a pinch of cold the moment he sat on the 
wooden bench. He looked around, and as usual, saw Rajat wearing only a 
half sleeves sweater on his uniform. Abhishek looked at the sleeves of 
his blazer and the shining golden color buttons stitched at one end of 
the sleeve. At least he could take off his monkey cap, but his mother 
asked him not to, until few hours. Besides, Abhishek knew what happens 
when he removes his monkey cap when its cold; he catches cold.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cool air from behind the seat through the gaps between the thick 
canvas and the metallic bus kept his back chilly. Abhishek blocked most 
of the wind with his school bag, yet some escaped through the gaps and 
managed to touch him. He felt his cold finger-tips. He felt his cold and
 moist nose-tip as he sniffed. There was a general silence in the bus, 
except when some kid got into the bus. The regular noises of vehicles 
and cool dense winter wind was pretty much what Abhishek experienced 
till he reached school.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Abhishek finally took off his monkey cap, after the third period,
 one period before the recess, when his mother had allowed him to do so.
 The monkey cap seemed adamant to leave his head, as it pulled on to his
 hair and resist his attempt. Abhishek was left with his head looking 
like a globe with skyscrapers. He tried to put them in sleeping position but some would just not budge! &lt;br /&gt;
Ah,
 the recess! Abhishek enjoyed bathing in the sunshine as he and his 
friends sat at the open air auditorium, munching the respective content 
in their tiffin boxes. Now came Abhishek's favorite part, he took off his
 sweater (he already had got rid of his blazer before walking into the 
blissful sunshine during recess), and wrapped it around his waist by 
tying the arms of the sweater together. Now, he felt one amongst equals!
 Its sufficiently warm now, he tried to convince himself as he walked 
back to his classroom with his friends after the bell announced the end 
of recess. Watching everybody else without any sweaters or blazers 
strengthened his belief. As soon as he walked into the shade of his 
classroom, he realized he was wrong. Before he could do anything else, 
his body had sent out a warning signal... aacchoo... he sneezed! And 
sniffed.&lt;br /&gt;
He unwrapped his sweater from around his waist and wore it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-6559574491879456521?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Wrapped comfortably in my blanket, I sat there reading my novel. Ah, I
 so much loved reading the stories from old yellow pages. 
And occasionally I enjoyed smelling the pages. While the author talked 
about how Oliver got his name as Oliver Twist, my mind got distracted by this 
sudden urge to eat something. It was already 10 AM, although the thick 
fog outside that covered my view through the window in my room often 
put me in early morning mood. The warm feeling being inside the blanket 
was too comfortable for me to leave and arrange for breakfast for 
myself. So, I put my focus back on the novel. Finally at 12:10 PM, I got
 out of my blanket. The window was covered with few water droplets and 
the view through the glass pane was clear and beautiful. There was only a
 grey wall few meters beyond the window, but it looked beautiful 
nonetheless. I put the milk to boil and while I stood there, staring at 
the milk to show signs of heated agitation and bubble formation at the 
edges of the vessel, I thought of walking out to get some fresh air. As I
 opened the secondary door (the primary door is the wooden door, the 
secondary door is the door with sieve like metallic net that lets the 
air in but can keep people out), I felt the warm soft feeble sunrays 
touch my arm. The smell of an early winter afternoon greeted me as I 
walked out and picked up the newspaper at the gate. For a while I stood 
there looking around at other people's houses. It looked as if nobody 
stayed in them because the whole area felt so deserted. I started 
reading the newspaper with my back to the sunrays, and ah, it felt so 
good. As if the sunrays were fingers gently, softly massaging my back 
and it felt like eternal bliss. I stood there for some more time but 
felt stupid standing like that and reading newspaper. I also got bit 
tired so I walked back in, rather reluctantly and I felt as if I was 
entering a refrigerator when there's no electric supply.&lt;br /&gt;
What's that noise, I wondered. Its coming from the kitchen. OMG !! The milk !!
 I ran up to the kitchen, clutching the newspaper in my left hand. By 
the time I reached the kitchen, more than half of the milk had escaped 
the hot confines of the vessel, rest of it was also quite prepared to 
leave! I turned off the gas knob, and poured the remaining milk into a glass for my consumption. Suddenly I felt the craving for maggi.
 I put maggi with its masala in more than required quantity of boiling 
water, and left it to prepare itself for me. I took the warm milk in one
 hand, the newspaper in other, and sat on a chair with my back to the 
sun. With brief sips of hot milk, I read the editorial. This time I 
wasn't worried because the only way water escapes a boiling vessel is by
 evaporation and I had put plenty of water to keep me free for sometime 
to enjoy the sunshine and the morning news.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-2237727493988426762?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes it happens so that you just get lost in the beauty of a girl you happen to see someday. You have seen her for the first time, you know nothing about her yet knowing her is the only thing that feels right. Time moves on, yet time stops for you as your whole being is being absorbed by her mere presence. No other thought dare cross your mind while she is the queen of your fort (mind)! All of a sudden, priorities realign themselves around her. You dress up properly, eat well, exercise, work more, participate actively in various events just to get her attention. You do everything except a simple, casual, run of the mill, "hi" to her when you and she are alone traveling in an elevator. You've seen her so many times that she has become a silent yet integral part of your life. And you know she has also seen you many times, noticed you many times, yet you could never muster enough courage to strike that one conversation, that one "hi" that could initiate something BIG, something that could perhaps change your life for the better. You wait in anticipation for something to happen but nothing does, not without your initiation.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It is the month of July and the unpredictable rains are reigning the city skies. At 6:20 PM, excited to reach home early, Parth is about to walk out of his office building when he sees many people standing and waiting near the gate, under the roof. Its raining heavily. Parth looks at his watch. He wants to leave now, reach home, listen to some Linkin Park, then perhaps doze off for a while. But these bloody rains; he wish he had at least bought an umbrella with his first salary !&lt;br /&gt;
Oh never mind, he tells himself. He simply storms out in the rain, clutching himself closely to protect his chest from the falling drops. Within seconds he feels the rain wash away his ego, as he realizes that he has made a BIG mistake and instantly starts shivering.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Parth wait, you'll get wet!" Someone calls at him. He just stops walking, then slowly turns to see someone walking towards him, holding her yellow umbrella covered with flower photos.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"God blessed me; an umbrella person!" Parth feels delighted! "and she knows me...wait, who is she?"&lt;br /&gt;
"Hello Mr. Toastmaster !!"&lt;br /&gt;
"Natasha!!! Hi!"&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;It is her indeed. Wait, is this one of my day dreams where I imagine all good things that could possibly happen in my life without affecting the balance of nature and smooth functioning of cosmos! And wow, she reads my invite mails that I send to everybody in the office and to whom very few respond but to which eventually nobody comes!&lt;br /&gt;
Lost in his thoughts, Parth doesn't realize and walks into a puddle just outside his office gate. In an ordinary movie situation, the heroine might have laughed but not Natasha. The muddy water also gets smeared all over her jeans!&lt;br /&gt;
"Dude, careful!" she says in a serious tone.&lt;br /&gt;
Mr. Toastmaster to Dude, such a sudden degradation. :(&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"I am so sorry, I didn't realize..."&lt;br /&gt;
"Its okay I guess! What else are Saturdays for?!"&lt;br /&gt;
"Toastmasters meeting?"&lt;br /&gt;
She smiles at me!&lt;br /&gt;
"Seriously, you come to &lt;a href="http://www.meetup.com/MadhapurTM/"&gt;madhapur toastmasters&lt;/a&gt; meeting, I'll buy you a new pair of jeans!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What? Parth asks himself. What? Seriously?!&lt;br /&gt;
"Is this how you invite new people to your club?!"&lt;br /&gt;
Parth thinks he is still talking to himself but it is Natasha talking to him.&lt;br /&gt;
"No!"&lt;br /&gt;
"Dude, these things ", indicating her jeans, "happen in a rainy season, so chill !!"&lt;br /&gt;
"So you're not coming to the toastmasters meeting?"&lt;br /&gt;
"No!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-2342797388895746503?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5j3TDGW30Yk/Tuj1enKYfrI/AAAAAAAABRE/tJX_eBKE1aA/s1600/Movie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5j3TDGW30Yk/Tuj1enKYfrI/AAAAAAAABRE/tJX_eBKE1aA/s200/Movie.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Movies are perhaps the most widespread medium of entertainment, after
 Facebook of course! and what kind of movies are we making! C-R-A-P !!! 
:( The King Khan himself set the bar high in this case. :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am a movie buff but since last couple of years I've lost interest in watching movies.
 Reason: easily predictable storylines in case of thriller/suspense 
movies, hardly any memorable moments in a romantic/family/drama movies, 
and yes, bad performances in many cases, and of course, to top it all, 
terrible storyline (yes I mentioned it again because this is our biggest
 point of falter)!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Last Saturday, I attended Mind-Mash, a 
collection of 8 short plays by First Rush! The best part, terrific 
performances by first timers, along with decent scripts and good 
direction. It was much better than any movie I can remember I must have 
enjoyed that much in last one year, except Rockstar (even this one had 
loopholes in its story).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Coming straight to the point, bollywood 
movies suck big time! With so much talent, investments and experienced 
people in the industry, why we still end up making 'hollow' movies?? 
hollow = good trailer, crappy movie!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How many think Don 2 would 
indeed be the return of King Khan? Honestly, I don't. He has done much 
better roles that he doesn't seem keen in anymore. Its only because of 
Farhan Akhtar, who's a terrific director that I think Don 2 won't 
disappoint, even though its 'too much packed in 2 min' trailer makes me 
doubtful sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We have lost simplicity, we have lost 
depth in our movies. Why do the younger generation still enjoy Dev Anand
 or Shammi Kapoor or Rajnikant's performances, while cringing at the 
very sight of Fardeen khan or tushar kapoor? They were fabulous actors, no doubt about that, but seriously, is it only the actor's 
fault? NO! Its the whole system of the movie making, trying to 
make it GRAND, then falling flat on its face because there's no strong foundation !!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I ain't a Hollywood fan either. I feel they make more crappier 
movies than us, its just that we don't generally get to see them. But 
their good movies are definitely better than ours!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, my verdict: We have been doing miserable as far as 
entertaining the audience is concerned. The quality of movies can 
definitely be much better! Churning some 10 decent movies a year isn't 
good enough. Why make a movie when you know its gonna be crappy? All the
 time, energy, resources wasted!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ok, now that we've failed
 to entertain, why not make a few movies with social message in it, or 
to motivate people come forward and participate in nation building 
itself !! Big banners like Yash Raj films can take a lead in this direction and can actually make some good movies for social cause, and add same magic to it that they add in their romantic films!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My idea: Invite people working on social projects and make a script for a movie out of it. It will increase people's awareness, will give the social workers much needed fame and later much needed funds, and this might also encourage others to join the initiative. Maybe Ranbir kapoor could be the protagonist! He could do the Rocket Singh again!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-8486320136011314126?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/apEr5YpzZ_Eom6Z3ViH4ptbZanA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/apEr5YpzZ_Eom6Z3ViH4ptbZanA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~4/P_A6TR6sl2o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/feeds/8486320136011314126/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32880268&amp;postID=8486320136011314126" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/8486320136011314126?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/8486320136011314126?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~3/P_A6TR6sl2o/social-movies.html" title="Please make better movies" /><author><name>Abhishek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05519234767682408962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uJWXOLIAe0c/TJXs4527d1I/AAAAAAAABKw/kzKxi764hmo/S220/me.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5j3TDGW30Yk/Tuj1enKYfrI/AAAAAAAABRE/tJX_eBKE1aA/s72-c/Movie.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/2011/12/social-movies.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU4NQHk8fyp7ImA9WhRQEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32880268.post-8755081009011436336</id><published>2011-12-06T01:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-06T09:53:11.777-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-06T09:53:11.777-08:00</app:edited><title>Failover</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uTDinupSeEI/Tt5WZT85x1I/AAAAAAAABQ8/nYQenCYQTuk/s1600/Failove+Cluster_0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="142" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uTDinupSeEI/Tt5WZT85x1I/AAAAAAAABQ8/nYQenCYQTuk/s200/Failove+Cluster_0.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
I was intrigued by the idea of failover clusters in SQL Server 2008. If one node fails, the SQL Server will failover to the next node in the priority queue, and the end user doesn't even notice the change, maybe a small blip for few seconds. The ability to maintain robust state of the system for continuous good quality service is what has been the main objective of database servers, as has been for any and every other system ever made.&lt;br /&gt;
At an individual level, I feel the idea of failover can make a BIG difference in one's life. What confused me as a kid now makes sense. I used to wonder as to why people involve themselves in so many activities. They have their job, then their hobbies, then maybe some social activities as well, along with spending time with their friends and family. The way I see it, each of these activities is like a node in the failover cluster. The primary node is the job; if one has a bad day at job, then one can rejuvenate by falling back on the other nodes, hobbies, other activities, friends/family. You may think, if the second node also fails then one will fall back on the third node, and so on, hence the more nodes, the merrier!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Time, has always been a constraint so there's always a limit to the number of 'nodes' one can have in one's life. In fact, these nodes in our lives that help us failover is created in reverse order. First, we have a family, then we learn to make friends. After that we start a hobby and involve ourselves in some social activities by contributing whatever we can, as a kid. Then we start doing some part-time job or internship, and after graduation, we get a bigger/better job. After this, job becomes the main node and we fall back on things, generally in the reverse order, although for many people, friends and family are more reliable as failover node than their hobbies but the reason I keep friends/family as last option because I know that in each of our lives, even if everything else leaves us, they will always be there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-8755081009011436336?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4IJ6_0Jq-GErLarUKfnFHhIKttc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4IJ6_0Jq-GErLarUKfnFHhIKttc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~4/vgPh7EYaP4I" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/feeds/8755081009011436336/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32880268&amp;postID=8755081009011436336" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/8755081009011436336?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/8755081009011436336?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~3/vgPh7EYaP4I/failover.html" title="Failover" /><author><name>Abhishek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05519234767682408962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uJWXOLIAe0c/TJXs4527d1I/AAAAAAAABKw/kzKxi764hmo/S220/me.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uTDinupSeEI/Tt5WZT85x1I/AAAAAAAABQ8/nYQenCYQTuk/s72-c/Failove+Cluster_0.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/2011/12/failover.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0YNRHw6cCp7ImA9WhRTF04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32880268.post-7019856362319561684</id><published>2011-11-07T22:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-07T22:53:15.218-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-07T22:53:15.218-08:00</app:edited><title>Smoking sweet</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hbuXVbGDXKQ/TrVd7NGgPCI/AAAAAAAABQs/W906N73vzUM/s1600/smoking-man.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="193" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hbuXVbGDXKQ/TrVd7NGgPCI/AAAAAAAABQs/W906N73vzUM/s200/smoking-man.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Why is it that every boy tries to act like a man to look stronger, by mimicking some adult habits like pretending to hold a cigarette and puff up imaginary smoke by curling his lips and tilting his head upwards. I know because I've done that a lot, not because I wanted to feel like a man but because it felt so cool !! The heroes in movies and advertisements puff up smoke, then go and do awesome things like kicking villain's ass or impressing a girl with their macho. I tried to feel that awesomeness too, but using fake cigarettes.&lt;br /&gt;
Amongst my fake cigarettes, my favorite one was 'pencil'. Yes, I always had a pencil with me in my pencil-box, and of different sizes. It was always available. Sometimes I used to eat off some wood at the end of the pencil, sometimes the lead. And holding the pencil between my index and middle finger, and slowly, easily exhaling air pretending it to be loaded with nicotine made me feel all tension leaving my mind. Now I know it was the 'slow exhalation' step in 'deep breathing' exercise which is famously used in Yoga and relaxation techniques.&lt;br /&gt;
I also used Phantom 'sweet cigarettes' which I'm sure some of you who lived their childhood in the 1990s would know about. Now this was basically white peppermint with red color at one of its tip to show the burning part of cigarette. And if we split it in two equal halves, there was always an argument on who'd get the one with the red color at the tip.&lt;br /&gt;
And the most unusual one, which you may find awkward, the lolipop! At least on the outside, it looks a little like cigarette!&lt;br /&gt;
The best season to test out the fake cigarettes is Winters, especially early mornings. While going to school my friends and I used to compete as to how much fog a person could exhale. That macho feeling amidst the shivers... what fun !!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-7019856362319561684?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nhUPI8Msg4oy_57Pp_XA5cFwz7k/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nhUPI8Msg4oy_57Pp_XA5cFwz7k/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~4/LvalSWDNU2Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/feeds/7019856362319561684/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32880268&amp;postID=7019856362319561684" title="9 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/7019856362319561684?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/7019856362319561684?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~3/LvalSWDNU2Q/smoking-sweet.html" title="Smoking sweet" /><author><name>Abhishek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05519234767682408962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uJWXOLIAe0c/TJXs4527d1I/AAAAAAAABKw/kzKxi764hmo/S220/me.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hbuXVbGDXKQ/TrVd7NGgPCI/AAAAAAAABQs/W906N73vzUM/s72-c/smoking-man.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>9</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/2011/11/smoking-sweet.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUERXgyfyp7ImA9WhRTFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32880268.post-5960370105060540082</id><published>2011-11-04T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-04T08:23:24.697-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-04T08:23:24.697-07:00</app:edited><title>Shop Phobia</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UomRXLjNZIY/TrQDW38PwAI/AAAAAAAABQk/-_OjDXIr3Yw/s1600/empty_cart3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="146" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UomRXLjNZIY/TrQDW38PwAI/AAAAAAAABQk/-_OjDXIr3Yw/s200/empty_cart3.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
With all the careful planning and confidence I decided to jump into this thing called Shopping, alone! Even after many failed attempts to do some shopping for my parents and my sister, I still didn't learn, that shopping is not my thing! But like a brave soldier, I left office early, reached Shilparamam, and marched confidently towards the gate when the security or some guy motioned me towards the ticket counter, which was on the right side.&lt;br /&gt;
Once inside, I didn't know where to go. Walking few steps from the gate towards left side and there's this market of handicrafts, clothes, pearls and other jewelry, woodwork, and many things that I don't know the name of. Basically a shopping haven for women. And I, a guy standing somewhere there, looking around and totally drowning in my confusion as to, why did I come here!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Since I was there I decide to take a casual stroll. Understandably, shopkeepers, the vigilant ones, were giving me some kind of look but it wasn't a pleasant one! Maybe they were tired or just plain bored! With 2K in cash with me, I was trying to figure out as to where to invest this money. I saw some people at some shops being attended to and looking at few samples of sarees, dress materials and dresses. Some were looking at the woodworks and the handicrafts. I saw them and wondered as to how they figure out what to buy. I go for shopping at the last moment when I "need" something. So don't really know how to think like a shopper. If my mother was with me, all I had to do was pay the final amount after all the bargaining and negotiations. Disheartened, distraught, dejected, and not disillusioned anymore I walked back towards the exit.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On my way, one guy invited me to his shop. I didn't go. Then this other guy invited me. I didn't go but he persisted! He asked me to take a seat, and started explaining me about Pashmina, the real Vs. less real ones, and told me some really interesting physical as well as geological facts about it. In spite of his enthusiasm and impressive knowledge, I didn't feel like buying Pashmina. I guess my mood was off and already set that I would never do shopping alone especially if its not for me. But that guy was a good salesman. If you happen to visit Shilparamam, you may want to check out his shop, "Ladakhi Arts".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-5960370105060540082?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I_Jaq5k4xz0/TrA17fY_j2I/AAAAAAAABQc/X5KFsGFPp90/s1600/Dark_Room_by_ikiz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="125" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I_Jaq5k4xz0/TrA17fY_j2I/AAAAAAAABQc/X5KFsGFPp90/s200/Dark_Room_by_ikiz.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
The recent electricity cuts in Hyderabad has been creating quite a havoc in many people's lives. I am a victim too. With a lot of expectations, I switch on my laptop which has almost zero battery backup, put on my favorite playlist and start getting ready for the day, except that after few minutes, i.e., at 10 AM, there is no electricity and my laptop is on a standby mode. I sigh, shut the lid and play those songs in my head instead!&lt;br /&gt;
Worse happens when electricity cut happens at night, especially during sleep hours. The swarm of mosquitoes, somehow seem to be waiting at some corner of the room, waiting for electricity cut to leave me vulnerable without the Good Knight! They seem to attack even more mercilessly than before. And they force me to fight back too and spill blood, most of it being my blood, from their bodies.&lt;br /&gt;
But all is not lost. Because it is the absence that makes us realize the importance of that thing. Besides, these electricity cuts can really boost health of our people, especially kids who won't be able to play X-box type games or computer games, or watch TV, not for very long anyways! Moreover, being in the dark, using torch or candlelights to resume one's daily work can be quite exciting, an unexpected uninvited change from the same monotonous life with blinking tubelights and boring bulb lights.&lt;br /&gt;
In my childhood, my friends and I used to play Dark Room where the seeker has to find everybody else in the dark room. This game can now be played as Dark House or Dark Building in case of electricity cuts.&lt;br /&gt;
If you haven't tried Dialogue in the Dark, I'm sure you must have got enough experience of it by now as you might have sat and eaten your dinner in darkness. But if you haven't, do try. Its quite an interesting experience and you may enjoy using our other senses to fill in for your visual sense. One of my friends shared her &lt;a href="http://nnivedita.com/portfolio/tsrdialogue-in-the-dark/"&gt;experience&lt;/a&gt; and reading that I'm definitely trying it out during next electricity cut.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-8246130485842991168?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Su7bMkjupE-Ur3jTb8Xz6xeyukc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Su7bMkjupE-Ur3jTb8Xz6xeyukc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~4/GHeYqdeA90s" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/feeds/8246130485842991168/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32880268&amp;postID=8246130485842991168" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/8246130485842991168?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/8246130485842991168?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~3/GHeYqdeA90s/electricity-cut.html" title="Electricity Cut" /><author><name>Abhishek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05519234767682408962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uJWXOLIAe0c/TJXs4527d1I/AAAAAAAABKw/kzKxi764hmo/S220/me.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I_Jaq5k4xz0/TrA17fY_j2I/AAAAAAAABQc/X5KFsGFPp90/s72-c/Dark_Room_by_ikiz.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/2011/11/electricity-cut.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak4FSXo8eSp7ImA9WhdaGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32880268.post-3610945498450845782</id><published>2011-10-30T10:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-30T05:48:38.471-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-30T05:48:38.471-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="AboutMe" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="MondayBlues" /><title>Monday Blues</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9AvKsWDlV2k/TqfzLHNspAI/AAAAAAAABQI/PO-mh462Ukc/s1600/an-office-worker-puts-on-a-happy-face1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9AvKsWDlV2k/TqfzLHNspAI/AAAAAAAABQI/PO-mh462Ukc/s200/an-office-worker-puts-on-a-happy-face1.jpg" width="133" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Do you suffer from Monday Blues? This is perhaps one of those things that separates me from the "crowd". I look forward to Mondays.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
During my school days, I looked forward to saturdays like every other kid but times were different then, during those days I used to live at home. Now, I live away from home, with some friends. Taking forward the lethargic and laid back attitude of college life, I lose every weekend morning to sleep, and then laze around in the afternoons only to have the night time left which I spend watching some TV shows or chatting on facebook. The point I'm trying to make here is, a good, early start of the day is essential! And I get that on weekdays when I have to wake up by 9 AM to go to office. I sip a cup of coffee and get by the day. That way I also end up sleeping pretty early, by around 1ish AM at night.&lt;br /&gt;
Another reason I look forward to mondays is because I get to meet people at office. My colleagues and seniors are really cool and we have great working environment. On weekends I only get to meet people during regular Madhapur Toastmasters meeting or other toastmaster's clubs meeting. Other than that, I'm pretty much with myself only. Although I do enjoy watching TV shows at my flatmate's PC which has really cool LCD screen while at the apartment, its watching the TV shows that I've been trying to give up for quite sometime now. And when alone, well, if I have electricity and access to the internet, facebook and online streaming of TV shows becomes the obvious choice. Else, I get lost in my thoughts, make stories in my mind that later I feel too lazy to type out.&lt;br /&gt;
I love mondays, it gets me back to office where I learn many new things about SQL server and database systems, and it gives me a sense of purpose in my life. Although the AC sometimes blocks my nose, I think its a small price to pay for all the returns everyday and at the end of every month.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-3610945498450845782?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wSM5NUuBZgorfyE21nhf5RfyV8M/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wSM5NUuBZgorfyE21nhf5RfyV8M/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~4/yWMSqP1JI88" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/feeds/3610945498450845782/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32880268&amp;postID=3610945498450845782" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/3610945498450845782?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/3610945498450845782?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~3/yWMSqP1JI88/monday-blues.html" title="Monday Blues" /><author><name>Abhishek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05519234767682408962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uJWXOLIAe0c/TJXs4527d1I/AAAAAAAABKw/kzKxi764hmo/S220/me.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9AvKsWDlV2k/TqfzLHNspAI/AAAAAAAABQI/PO-mh462Ukc/s72-c/an-office-worker-puts-on-a-happy-face1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/2011/10/monday-blues.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0YFRHc_fip7ImA9WhdaFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32880268.post-3625199855079023229</id><published>2011-10-26T07:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-26T07:25:15.946-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-26T07:25:15.946-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="AboutMe" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Diwali" /><title>Happy Diwali everyone</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mm6tNeIFYJY/TqgWHabklSI/AAAAAAAABQU/w30QISMxMzU/s1600/diwali.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mm6tNeIFYJY/TqgWHabklSI/AAAAAAAABQU/w30QISMxMzU/s200/diwali.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Diwali, the festival of lights, the symbol of good over evil. Diwali has always been my favorite festival among all the festivals I know. The house gets cleaned and one wears good/new clothes. The house, the colony, the whole country lights up! I used to eagerly but patiently wait for the Diwali Pooja to get over so that I could start the ceremony of bursting crackers! Within an hour, some guests might come over, and it was even better if they had kids and even more better if they were my friends. But crackers bursting was the most fun. The adult males sometimes smiled, sometimes laughed as we attempted the rockets and bigger bombs! We were Army kids and so Diwali crackers should be kid's play, even for us.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My Diwali crackers bursting days started early in my childhood. I started with sparkles, and dreaded holding a lighted phuljhadi. The sparks just jumped out of it and fell on my arm, freaking me out! I got used to it and I knew that if I can handle phuljhadi, I can handle any firecracker! So I lighted/bursted them all, except the rockets because I heard all kinds of bad stories about it, especially the one that the bottle used to launch the rocket might get tilted and rocket might land in someone neighbor's house! But lighting a bomb and throwing it away, using a candle or agarbatti, I was slowly becoming a pro! And then the inevitable happened... the 10th standard Board Exams. Since 10th Standard, I didn't burst crackers. I somehow lost interest and even today I don't. I'm not being environment friendly, its just that it doesn't make sense to me anymore!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Fast forward to the present. I am typing this post on my laptop. I lit two candles at God's corner, at a corner of our apartment, and prayed (i.e., wished for many things). I also lit few candles in the verandah. My Diwali preparations done! Also, I cleaned my room! And as I sit here I hear some crackers bursting. But the intensity has reduced. Have the crackers reduced or people actually celebrating the festival have reduced? I'd like to believe the former is true. We already light up the whole country with diyas and candles, as for the sound effects, lets use modern technology to simulate cracker's noise and have a pollution free Diwali!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Happy Diwali Everyone. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-3625199855079023229?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mNrpvwa1Bv0/TqRtAFqb6iI/AAAAAAAABQA/8-jAWdQtkGo/s1600/super-hero.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="188" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mNrpvwa1Bv0/TqRtAFqb6iI/AAAAAAAABQA/8-jAWdQtkGo/s200/super-hero.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
After watching Captain America (2011) movie, I finally understood what I want to be. I want to be a superhero! In fact I do have some skillsets required to be a superhero. I am short in height, like Peter Parker (Spiderman), or Logan (Wolverine) or Steve Rogers (Captain America). I like helping people but only when they ask for help. I am good at keeping a low profile and making excuses about my sudden absence at the most critical times (Superman, Batman, Spiderman). And I love watching superhero movies and reading their comic books.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I spent my whole Sunday (i.e., yesterday) and devised a detailed set of steps I need to follow to embrace my destiny (career) as a full time superhero!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1. &lt;b&gt;My Superpowers:&lt;/b&gt; I'll need something/someone radioactive enough to bite (Spiderman) or hit me (Hulk, DareDevil). So I need to be in US for something like this to happen. That's why I have started preparing to switch job to another company in which I'll get to stay for few months onsite immediately on my joining (I'm ready to settle for less pay for quick onsite opportunity). So if you know of such an opportunity, do let me know. BTW, I'm a software engineer, in case you haven't already figured out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. &lt;b&gt;My Love:&lt;/b&gt; I'll need to make an exhaustive list of all the girls I've ever had crush on, since school days till today, starting with friends, then acquaintances, then almost strangers. After that I'll have to start meeting them, in the order written in the list because I've observed that once a person becomes a superhero, even if the girl is unaware of it, she'll somehow show more interest in that guy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3. &lt;b&gt;My Sacrifice: &lt;/b&gt;I'll have to lose someone very close to me that should make me swear to eradicate evil and crimes. This will be the hardest of all and quite tricky. But we all make sacrifices for our career. So I've decided, I'll remove one of my closest friends from my facebook friends list. Will pick a chit to decide the name.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4. &lt;b&gt;My uniform:&lt;/b&gt; This is what will define me and put me into the character. I love wearing ties (like Doctor Who), so ties are mandatory. I also want to have a cape (Superman, Batman). Rest could be anything but within the limits of decency and should be socially acceptable as I'll be running around and fighting crimes during daytime also.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
5. &lt;b&gt;My online presence:&lt;/b&gt; Interested volunteers please write your e-mail id in the comments and I may get back to you in case required. This will be voluntary work, no compensation will be given. But c'mon, its the experience that counts! You'd be like my sidekick, a superhero's sidekick! You can include that in your resume and add me as one of your references.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't need to tell you where to find me in case you need me... Facebook of course! Just post your request on my wall and I'll get back to you whenever I or my sidekick friend checks Facebook the next time! I shall regularly tweet my activities so that the criminals fear me (sadly only the educated ones with access to internet!) and my friends, the common people feel safe.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So if you find someone running on the streets like a madman wearing a torn shirt and holding his bermudas, then that would be the criminal I'd be chasing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-3191077200996093585?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LrjibTqJSXtsCCxiIWiQeyzPEPA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LrjibTqJSXtsCCxiIWiQeyzPEPA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~4/BNKYaOzj82U" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/feeds/3191077200996093585/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32880268&amp;postID=3191077200996093585" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/3191077200996093585?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/3191077200996093585?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~3/BNKYaOzj82U/my-career-plan-be-superhero.html" title="My career plan: Be a superhero" /><author><name>Abhishek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05519234767682408962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uJWXOLIAe0c/TJXs4527d1I/AAAAAAAABKw/kzKxi764hmo/S220/me.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mNrpvwa1Bv0/TqRtAFqb6iI/AAAAAAAABQA/8-jAWdQtkGo/s72-c/super-hero.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/2011/10/my-career-plan-be-superhero.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUAHRXk-cCp7ImA9WhdTFUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32880268.post-363436715580958080</id><published>2011-07-13T09:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-13T10:22:14.758-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-13T10:22:14.758-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="terrorism" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mumbai" /><title>Price of a human life.</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mtkG53YH3HA/Th3JaUa5vdI/AAAAAAAABPM/wVB1-aTJjec/s1600/terrorism-5v.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mtkG53YH3HA/Th3JaUa5vdI/AAAAAAAABPM/wVB1-aTJjec/s200/terrorism-5v.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Today when I came back from office, Sushanta told me that Mumbai suffered three blasts today, which killed 8 and injured 70. On facebook I saw some talking about the coincidence of the blasts and Kasab's birthday falling on the same day!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This reminds me of 26/11 attack on Mumbai. Innocent people were massacred. The whole country was caught in a frenzy, a state of shock and fear, anxiety for the well being of people of Mumbai. These incidents pushes me to ask this very basic question: What is the price of a human life? What do these terrorists think is the price of a human life? What do you think it is?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A few times I have tried to imagine myself being shot dead or having a close friend/relative killed by these zombies. And I couldn't imagine it. The fear, the pain is too much to bear! Death of even a single person saddens the heart. And while all this happens, I find myself helpless in this situation, and seriously, there is no worse feeling than feeling desperate yet helpless.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I agree that its not always possible to predict the next bomb blast, the time and the location. But why do these blasts even happen? And why Mumbai, why? And why India suffers from so many terrorists attacks?! Is there a solution?! My head spins yet again as I try to calm myself and make peace with the fact that I have and perhaps will always be a pawn in their game (read: politicians, businessmen, bureaucrats) and if unlucky then may become a victim to one of these meaningless attacks.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mumbai, you've survived before, you'll survive again. Let us all become invincible and nullify the effect of their attacks by our never say die attitude. But by God how much I feel like slowly sucking life out of that person who pushes these so called "terrorists" to kill innocent people in cold blood.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
P.S. - Today I read about the origin of the initiative "Spoorthi" and later learned about the bomb blasts in Mumbai! What a difference in initiatives! &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-363436715580958080?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3MBZEf1pPdR2Xnlz-gqmk2ZSeWs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3MBZEf1pPdR2Xnlz-gqmk2ZSeWs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~4/WS5iLy_gLgI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/feeds/363436715580958080/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32880268&amp;postID=363436715580958080" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/363436715580958080?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/363436715580958080?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~3/WS5iLy_gLgI/price-of-human-life.html" title="Price of a human life." /><author><name>Abhishek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05519234767682408962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uJWXOLIAe0c/TJXs4527d1I/AAAAAAAABKw/kzKxi764hmo/S220/me.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mtkG53YH3HA/Th3JaUa5vdI/AAAAAAAABPM/wVB1-aTJjec/s72-c/terrorism-5v.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/2011/07/price-of-human-life.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04BRHozfSp7ImA9WhZaGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32880268.post-658304170599588634</id><published>2011-07-06T08:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-06T11:12:35.485-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-06T11:12:35.485-07:00</app:edited><title>What makes you feel happy</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X416KGTmong/ThR-IvkfV8I/AAAAAAAABO4/Te7ZJqsSfyM/s1600/happy-cat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="136" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X416KGTmong/ThR-IvkfV8I/AAAAAAAABO4/Te7ZJqsSfyM/s200/happy-cat.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;One of my friends gave me this questionnaire one day which had this question: What makes you feel happy?&lt;br /&gt;
I replied to him with the filled questionnaire after a week only because I really had to think about this question. I know what makes me laugh, what makes me smile, what delights me, what excites me but I believe happiness is something beyond all this, something grander.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The answer was so simple, being at home makes me happy! But then what if I didn't have a home. Would/Should that take away my happiness? Now a days I live away from home, does that mean I am not or can't be happy? This argument was good enough to compel me to think a little more.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If he had asked me this question few years ago I would probably had said, "dude, if Microsoft hires me I'd be really happy!" Microsoft didn't hire me, so can I never be happy?!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My definition of happiness has been changing over the years but after reading his question, I had to find a way to at least convince myself that there are some things in life that are or which can provide perennial source of happiness. Instead of specific reasons I started searching for general reasons, common things that happen in life. And then it struck me... I always like when someone comes and talks to me, I always enjoy sharing my ideas or opinions with others, I really feel connected with the other person during the face to face conversation. So I replied, "A good conversation". Most of my conversations have been good.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What makes you feel happy?! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-658304170599588634?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YsqKi6_C4baGxGuxg6UnSLNUVIc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YsqKi6_C4baGxGuxg6UnSLNUVIc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~4/9nOc_GKOHa0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/feeds/658304170599588634/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32880268&amp;postID=658304170599588634" title="10 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/658304170599588634?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/658304170599588634?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~3/9nOc_GKOHa0/what-makes-you-feel-happy.html" title="What makes you feel happy" /><author><name>Abhishek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05519234767682408962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uJWXOLIAe0c/TJXs4527d1I/AAAAAAAABKw/kzKxi764hmo/S220/me.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X416KGTmong/ThR-IvkfV8I/AAAAAAAABO4/Te7ZJqsSfyM/s72-c/happy-cat.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>10</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/2011/07/what-makes-you-feel-happy.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MMQHkzeyp7ImA9WhRSGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32880268.post-7817119762300699643</id><published>2011-07-06T05:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-20T12:04:41.783-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-20T12:04:41.783-08:00</app:edited><title>Learn to fall</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-14eRmBVXI_g/TfYXvMzwnBI/AAAAAAAABNY/igHTEa7DKpM/s1600/falling_dream.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-14eRmBVXI_g/TfYXvMzwnBI/AAAAAAAABNY/igHTEa7DKpM/s200/falling_dream.jpg" t8="true" width="198" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Our karate teacher, Mr. Babji taught some of my friends and me how to fall when someone lifts you on his back and throws you down. He told us that we should try to fall on the back and try to spread the impact across the whole back by rolling a little on the back. He told us that falling on our back causes less harm to the body than trying to break the fall using hands. This simple yet useful suggestion made me realize that in martial arts, as in life, falling is inevitable. That is why there are some techniques, some suggestions to minimize the hurt, the pain when the impact happens.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When someone says, "I got your back buddy", what they really mean can be correlated with the advice Mr. Babji gave us. In fact, isn't it that most of the times when we fall, we fall on our back (metaphorically and in reality) because nobody volunteers to fall, it just happens. While falling on our back, we can't&amp;nbsp;use our&amp;nbsp;hands to break our fall, we can't see how deep we'll find ourselves after its all over, how hard the impact would be, so we basically have no choice. One should just accept this situation but always have someone or something to make it easier for us. Friends, relatives, a pet or some hobbies like movies, music, sports, writing, workout, gardening etc. can be that cushion to make the fall bearable. We must have something to someone to come to, to share our success and seek comfort during disappointments.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-7817119762300699643?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SfsSfkr5DmYxmoRmPsFA98k9tEE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SfsSfkr5DmYxmoRmPsFA98k9tEE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~4/So4IoVjLMJ4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/feeds/7817119762300699643/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32880268&amp;postID=7817119762300699643" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/7817119762300699643?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/7817119762300699643?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~3/So4IoVjLMJ4/learn-to-fall.html" title="Learn to fall" /><author><name>Abhishek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05519234767682408962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uJWXOLIAe0c/TJXs4527d1I/AAAAAAAABKw/kzKxi764hmo/S220/me.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-14eRmBVXI_g/TfYXvMzwnBI/AAAAAAAABNY/igHTEa7DKpM/s72-c/falling_dream.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/2011/06/learn-to-fall.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04AQH4yeip7ImA9WhZQEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32880268.post-8918521099528265242</id><published>2011-04-19T10:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-19T10:59:01.092-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-19T10:59:01.092-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="idea" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Thoughts" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="office" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="observation" /><title>How to make office life less boring!</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bZI-Hv8bBkA/Ta3LPsrYp_I/AAAAAAAABNE/X_EhlShWqtI/s1600/Bored-office-worker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="160" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bZI-Hv8bBkA/Ta3LPsrYp_I/AAAAAAAABNE/X_EhlShWqtI/s200/Bored-office-worker.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Why is office life boring? - Simple, you do the same thing over and over again! But I do get better at it, and if I like doing that thing, and I attain success at a regular basis, why should I get bored?&lt;br /&gt;
Because you're doing the same thing every day !!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I propose a new model for professional life, and this model can actually work in today's world where many people are multi-talented and some are even following this model, thereby making their office or work life less boring and more exciting.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And the idea is... to have more than one job! In fact, I take this a step further... no moonlighting please, but more than one job during the daytime.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Take my case: I've been trained to be a software engineer and I have some research experience, so I can play two different roles in a company. Moreover, I also write fairly well, so I could also participate in being a Technical Writer. I have been attending Toastmaster's meetings so in few months time I could also be considered to become an Evangelist. The idea here is that one can don many caps being in the same company.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Two important things to keep in mind:&lt;br /&gt;
1. Each employee must be given a very small chunk of the project (because instead of 10 hours they'd spend some 4 hours on that project), which means there has to be a person who must understand the project on the whole and can suitably divide the project to different employees so that their work can be easily integrated later. This person will only have the work of dividing the project and assigning it to others. He may then participate in other work, like some managerial aspects or be an Evangelist for a while.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. The sense of urgency must go. In fact, less work hours for an employee on a particular project would mean more employees, so just before the deadline, all the employees could be asked to work few hours more to help the project launch successfully!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The payroll maintenance would become difficult in this situation but its worth it because an employee would gain different kind of experience, which means the company will have multi-talented employees who are ready to take up any role in the company, if the need be! This will make their life exciting and company's work easier, except the payroll part! Please note that an employee could have fixed salary or could have salary based on number of hours worked.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The latter case will also give the employee an option of working elsewhere for rest of the day. Commutation has to be worked out but if the two (or more) places are nearby, then the day can be divided into number of hours to be spent at each place.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Such a lifestyle can ensure less monotonicity in life which means a person will also be willing to work on weekends, and instead of lots of money from one job, will get some money from more than one job. Moreover, each person would be versatile, multi-talented and, lets be honest, productivity will enhance this way!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Besides, who needs a vacation when so much would be going on in life?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-8918521099528265242?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AUQ1onks6Kcr5eOP6ecC9TRx-P8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AUQ1onks6Kcr5eOP6ecC9TRx-P8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~4/22AhToAZzvQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/feeds/8918521099528265242/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32880268&amp;postID=8918521099528265242" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/8918521099528265242?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/8918521099528265242?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~3/22AhToAZzvQ/how-to-make-office-life-less-boring.html" title="How to make office life less boring!" /><author><name>Abhishek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05519234767682408962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uJWXOLIAe0c/TJXs4527d1I/AAAAAAAABKw/kzKxi764hmo/S220/me.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bZI-Hv8bBkA/Ta3LPsrYp_I/AAAAAAAABNE/X_EhlShWqtI/s72-c/Bored-office-worker.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/2011/04/how-to-make-office-life-less-boring.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEANRH08eSp7ImA9WhZREks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32880268.post-6483665747791665713</id><published>2011-04-08T04:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-08T04:39:55.371-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-08T04:39:55.371-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="anna hazare" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="honesty" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="observation" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="politics" /><title>Lokpal bill is not enough</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ynvs0goSkOE/TZ7z4eG6BfI/AAAAAAAABMs/uwF3Var0TrY/s1600/anna-hazare-fast630_338x225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ynvs0goSkOE/TZ7z4eG6BfI/AAAAAAAABMs/uwF3Var0TrY/s400/anna-hazare-fast630_338x225.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I feel delighted to see so many of my facebook friends actively supporting the cause for which Anna Hazare has been fasting, i.e., Anti Corruption! Some of their facebook post invites others to walk few miles to show their support, some other post shares a link to sign a petition supporting the bill. I really hope people's support for this great cause helps in passing the Lokpal Bill, and also that government realizes that people are aware now, people are ready to take action against anything wrong happening to them. Our unity towards the right cause can lead to a bright future.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But wait! Lets not get carried away by the extravagant and overwhelmingly enthusiastic response by our "elite educated mass" (not much of the total mass, though). By elite I don't mean wealthy, I mean people living comfortable lives, they may not be millionaires. Firstly, most of the supporters I have seen are youth. In a way its good that the young blood is ready to fight for a good cause and bring change for the better. Sadly, there's a lot more to this corruption thing than meets the eye. Youth generally have all the good intentions at heart but have very little idea of how screwed up the whole situation is! Just passing the bill and making it a law can't ensure effective execution of law.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Secondly, being elite educated mass, there are some "moral ethics" that we like to follow, to show our contribution towards society, and for self-satisfaction. We have enough knowledge and wealth, so we see corruption as a disgrace and arm ourselves to eliminate it from this planet! But really, why does a person become corrupt? Lack of knowledge or lack of wealth, or both, isn't it? My friends and I have been blessed with both, so we generally tend to misunderstand the whole situation. Nobody likes to be corrupt, they're forced to be.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Lokpal Bill is necessary but not a sufficient condition. The Lokpal Bill becoming a law is just the first step. There's a second step as well, which is much more essential. A law can help bring in line few stranded people, but can it bring in line the whole government?! Why not prevent the situation that makes the government guilty of corruption?! Why not take the second step, or are you planning to wash off your hands after this bill becomes a law, so that the executives and the government can exploit the loopholes in the law?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The second step is to live the life of an honest person, an honest citizen, an honest individual. Be honest in whoever you are, whatever you do. Instead of preaching, 'anti-corruption', preach and practice 'honesty'. Fight for an honest life instead of fighting against a life of corruption. It'd be like walking on a thin rope over an abyss, but only the rope walker knows the thrill and fulfilment in such a life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have high expectations from our elite educated mass in this direction.&lt;br /&gt;
Firstly, Be honest with yourself, be honest with others. Don't steal or snatch anything that's not yours, especially if you don't even need it.&lt;br /&gt;
Secondly, be strong. Its easy to get carried away by the promise of more wealth, more comfort, more power. Do you really need more? Is it helping you life a better life? Wealth may bring smile on face but what about the happiness in our hearts? Anna Hazare is an inspiration. He's a strong man. He's fighting for what he believes is right, he's fighting against the whole government! Can we find in our hearts enough courage to do what feels right, unbiased by the media or by the common thinking? Can we leave behind a legacy of honest lives that would be a guiding light for our future generations?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lets stop running away from the real problem and face it head on. Lets live honest lives and contribute towards progress of our country so that all the reasons for corruption are eliminated forever. Lets be sincere in our efforts, like Anna Hazare. Lets take the first step by supporting Anna Hazare. Then lets take the second step by living an honest life and helping each other so that we grow as a nation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-6483665747791665713?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/g6Il05ktkdCAp8-OnfsuLD9hKrs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/g6Il05ktkdCAp8-OnfsuLD9hKrs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~4/kj_cJ_sKEMs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/feeds/6483665747791665713/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32880268&amp;postID=6483665747791665713" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/6483665747791665713?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32880268/posts/default/6483665747791665713?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/HnHcb/~3/kj_cJ_sKEMs/lokpal-bill-is-not-enough.html" title="Lokpal bill is not enough" /><author><name>Abhishek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05519234767682408962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uJWXOLIAe0c/TJXs4527d1I/AAAAAAAABKw/kzKxi764hmo/S220/me.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ynvs0goSkOE/TZ7z4eG6BfI/AAAAAAAABMs/uwF3Var0TrY/s72-c/anna-hazare-fast630_338x225.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>7</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://abhisheksainani.blogspot.com/2011/04/lokpal-bill-is-not-enough.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0cAQXk8fip7ImA9Wx9bFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32880268.post-4476417309979311169</id><published>2011-02-23T11:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-23T11:57:20.776-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-23T11:57:20.776-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="time" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="discipline" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="talent" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="observation" /><title>Discipline, Talent and Time</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F2bTKh60sPc/TWVmRCZkhII/AAAAAAAABMA/jZvNObHnUkM/s1600/discipline.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="179" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F2bTKh60sPc/TWVmRCZkhII/AAAAAAAABMA/jZvNObHnUkM/s200/discipline.gif" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Discipline may not be a substitute for talent but talent evaporates  without it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He wasn't talented but he did treat things gently, patiently and took his own time to understand them and get familiar with them. Ask him something all of a sudden and he'd look lost. Give him few minutes and he'd be ready to impress you with his response. He had this genuine interest in understanding how things work rather than be prepared with tailor made responses to situations. Perhaps, at the age of 14 itself he had understood that nothing is permanent, everything changes.&lt;br /&gt;
He wasn't disciplined, he hardly followed a time table, except for the school time table which he had to. He too his own sweet time doing things. Once he was forced to finish off something before the deadline and he did. All other deadlines were excused for him so that he could meet this deadline. The teachers were rather surprised though. They could clearly see the drop in quality of this work as compared to his previous submissions, which often happened few days later. Some teachers were fine with his late submissions because they marveled at his output but some thought that special treatment to one student could mean partiality which eventually authorities were not ready to do. Poor chap, he suffered due to this.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, in a conventional sense, he was neither talented, nor disciplined. But he was both, yes he was!&lt;br /&gt;
You could call him talented, his talent lies in his perspective,  his approach towards things, situations.You could call him disciplined, when doing one thing, he paid complete attention to that thing only. He never compromised with this time and attention to his work. He overshot deadlines only because he knew he could do better and only when that zenith of perfection is achieved that he is ready to proudly claim that work as his own.&lt;br /&gt;
Perhaps we end up defining discipline and talent wrongly! Why do we have to use time to define discipline and talent?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-4476417309979311169?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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its just natural to conclude that they're gay.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I'm not. Nor my friend is. In fact, my friend has a girlfriend but she stays in another city. But instead of sitting home alone, they decided to go out in their respective cities, have fun and talk on phone every once in a while. Maybe we're good friends or maybe I am his only single friend but I'm sure I got the first call, and we were the only two guys walking the mall together that night. There were couples, yes, and there were families, and group of friends and by group I mean more than two! Arjun's phone rings suddenly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"It must be Aditi's call, yeah it is here. Hey Aditi."&lt;br /&gt;
""&lt;br /&gt;
Okay I don't know what she was saying, and if I try to speculate, that'd be lying to you.&lt;br /&gt;
"Aditi wants to talk to you."&lt;br /&gt;
"What? No no I don't want to dig into your precious conversation. I can talk to her tomorrow!"&lt;br /&gt;
"Take the phone, man." and he pushed his phone in my hand.&lt;br /&gt;
"Hey Aditi."&lt;br /&gt;
"Hi Parth. What's up with you guys? What are you going to do?"&lt;br /&gt;
"Well, we're gonna have something and look at hot chicks, rate them maybe. And yeah, the one with her boyfriend gets extra score."&lt;br /&gt;
"Cheapo! Ok, give the phone to Arjun."&lt;br /&gt;
""&lt;br /&gt;
Of course I don't know what she talked to him about but he was grinning.&lt;br /&gt;
"Yeah, we'll probably have a sub and then go to some other mall. We've actually decided to observe how couples behave in public."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And that was our plan, yes! Entertaining, and educative. But I'd have still preferred a pretty stranger girl than one of my best friends!&lt;br /&gt;
"Ok, I love you too. Bbye! Talk to you later. Yeah, will call you after I reach home and tell you everything I did. Ok, bye!"&lt;br /&gt;
I cringed a little inside when he said "I love you". Maybe I'm not used to this word. Please don't misjudge me. I have a loving family but I haven't said "I love you" to my mother as well! "I love you" and "Sorry" are something I have never been able to say to anyone.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
While we did window shopping and were walking towards the subway, a quick visit to what happened today morning. A phone call woke me up at 7 am, one and a half hour before my usual time.&lt;br /&gt;
"Hi Sunny."&lt;br /&gt;
"Hi Mommy. How're you? Why haven't you left for school already?"&lt;br /&gt;
"I am about to leave. Just wanted to say, "Happy Valentine's Day"!! Just wanted you to know that your father, your sister and I love you very much."&lt;br /&gt;
"thank you Mom."&lt;br /&gt;
"and also I had to wake you up. You and your bad habit of waking up late!"&lt;br /&gt;
"And I'm awake now. So, you please leave for school and I'll go to the toilet. Can't talk anymore. Bbye!"&lt;br /&gt;
I didn't wait to hear her reply because it was an emergency situation. It happens 5 minutes after I wake up, its fixed! That kind of makes me not want to have dinner while traveling overnight when I go home!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have no argument in my defense. Yes I can be labeled as a loser because I don't choose to be, I am forced to be single. Guys tell me, 'you got looks man, you got your writing and you got a good job, why don't you try, man? Girls are gonna like you, really!' Believe me, I've tried to try but, well, I talk direct. Its hard for me to read signs or flirt around. I mean, I could do that, maybe, but I am not sure of the other person's response. Its a hit and try game. You like someone, you walk up to her, and hope to start a conversation. That doesn't happen unless you have something in common. I did have something in common with that girl I met while on a 'date' with my best friend Arjun. I saw her sitting across us on the other table while we entered Subway. I deliberately took the chair to face my back towards her. The idea of talking to a girl without any plan scares me more than needles and ghosts!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I heard her approach towards the door from behind me when the person at the counter said, "Sir, you forgot your credit card." She and the guy with her looked back. While he walked up to the counter, her sight fell on me. I looked at her at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;
"Hey Parth, right?"&lt;br /&gt;
My face and hands were a little smudged with sauce, it happens all the time while I eat sub. I felt awkward.&lt;br /&gt;
"Yes indeed. How're you Natasha."&lt;br /&gt;
I didn't offer to shake her hands for obvious reasons.&lt;br /&gt;
"I'm good. How're you?"&lt;br /&gt;
"Good. So..." and while I searched for my next thought, her guy friend comes back.&lt;br /&gt;
I wipe off my hands with the tissue paper.&lt;br /&gt;
"Hey Parth, this is Arun. Arun, Parth."&lt;br /&gt;
"And this is my friend, Arjun."&lt;br /&gt;
All the formalities were done.&lt;br /&gt;
"Parth evaluated me for my speech this time and I was amazed. You were great Parth."&lt;br /&gt;
"Thanks Natasha. So when's your club's next meeting? Do send me an invite, I mean &lt;a href="http://www.meetup.com/MadhapurTM/"&gt;Madhapur Toastmasters&lt;/a&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;
"Sure! We're getting late for somewhere, so I'll see you later. It was nice meeting you. Bbye."&lt;br /&gt;
"Same here."&lt;br /&gt;
All the formalities were done.&lt;br /&gt;
"I have to tell Aditi this." Arjun says in his usual delightful mood when he knows something exciting.&lt;br /&gt;
"Why? What happened?"&lt;br /&gt;
"I saw a girl actually flirting with you. This is breaking news!"&lt;br /&gt;
"Flirting? No! We do that all the time. Its the &lt;a href="http://www.toastmasters.org/"&gt;Toastmasters&lt;/a&gt; code. We encourage each other and praise each other for a job well done. You never attend our meeting, I invite you so many times."&lt;br /&gt;
"Maybe now I will, I'm curious."&lt;br /&gt;
"Hey Aditi, yeah, I just saw a girl flirt with Parth."&lt;br /&gt;
""&lt;br /&gt;
"Yes I am sure. She was praising him and she started the conversation and all."&lt;br /&gt;
""&lt;br /&gt;
"Here, talk to Aditi."&lt;br /&gt;
He pushed the phone again in my hand.&lt;br /&gt;
"Hey Aditi. How was your evening? You sound so pleasant tonight."&lt;br /&gt;
Nothing worked. She started lecturing me that I should meet her more often.&lt;br /&gt;
"We're in toastmasters, that's why she talked to me! Please attend a toastmasters meeting in Pune, there are some clubs over there. You'll know."&lt;br /&gt;
"Why do you always try to deny that you are likeable."&lt;br /&gt;
"Arjun wants to talk to you, here."&lt;br /&gt;
And I took the remaining sub in my hand and quickly walked out before Arjun could push the phone back into my hand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32880268-6202410336846478906?l=abhisheksainani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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