<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30936865320652604</id><updated>2024-09-01T16:15:50.101-07:00</updated><title type='text'>celebration called life</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30936865320652604/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mrs. Rao</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02587725075421053915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8BrvDreu39lIDs57D_V786bK_D7TSWF0JZyERFgV09YbiTeNWp3x8bQCEcZG-vEC7V1plBi6SXoTtDhFj0EtUjArpeZSuKVg4x9qdljhe5lPGLs3jpecpqz0hQ_zQ8g/s220/DSC01659.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30936865320652604.post-6493148174270288532</id><published>2010-05-20T08:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T08:37:54.143-07:00</updated><title type='text'>वादळ - प्रश्न की उत्तर</title><content type='html'>आजपर्यंत मी असा पाऊस पाहिला नाही&lt;br /&gt;
जो थांबला नाही वर्षून &lt;br /&gt;
असा पूर पाहिला नाही जो ओसरला&lt;br /&gt;
नाही येवून&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
काही स्वप्ने तुटलिही &amp;nbsp;असतील ह्या गोंधळात&lt;br /&gt;
पण सगळे प्रश्न मात्र अनायासे सुटले&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
माझी माझी म्हणून उराशी कवटाळलेली दुख्खे&lt;br /&gt;
क्षणाधार्त वाहून गेली&lt;br /&gt;
आणि मागे उरली ती फक्त स्वच्छ पाटी&lt;br /&gt;
नव्या स्वप्नासाठी, नव्या भविष्यासाठी&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
आजपर्यंत मी अशी इमारत पहिली नाही जी&lt;br /&gt;
बांधता येत नाही मातीमोल होऊन&lt;br /&gt;
अशी स्वप्न जी साकारता येत नाहीत&lt;br /&gt;
प्रयत्नांच्या हातून</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/feeds/6493148174270288532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/30936865320652604/6493148174270288532' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30936865320652604/posts/default/6493148174270288532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30936865320652604/posts/default/6493148174270288532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/2010/05/blog-post_20.html' title='वादळ - प्रश्न की उत्तर'/><author><name>Mrs. Rao</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02587725075421053915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8BrvDreu39lIDs57D_V786bK_D7TSWF0JZyERFgV09YbiTeNWp3x8bQCEcZG-vEC7V1plBi6SXoTtDhFj0EtUjArpeZSuKVg4x9qdljhe5lPGLs3jpecpqz0hQ_zQ8g/s220/DSC01659.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30936865320652604.post-2327392707973374306</id><published>2010-05-07T14:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T14:14:18.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>एक विचार</title><content type='html'>एकदा तू मला मोगरा आणला होतास&lt;br /&gt;
कोमेजल्यावर सुध्धा त्याचा गंध अगदी तसाच राहिला होता.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
निदान त्या निर्माल्याएवढ &amp;nbsp;तरी ताज हव होत रे तुझ प्रेम!&lt;br /&gt;
आज आठवणीच्या&amp;nbsp; कप्प्यात दरवळण्यासाठी सुगंधाबरोबर बरेच काही शिल्लक राहिले असते.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/feeds/2327392707973374306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/30936865320652604/2327392707973374306' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30936865320652604/posts/default/2327392707973374306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30936865320652604/posts/default/2327392707973374306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/2010/05/blog-post.html' title='एक विचार'/><author><name>Mrs. Rao</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02587725075421053915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8BrvDreu39lIDs57D_V786bK_D7TSWF0JZyERFgV09YbiTeNWp3x8bQCEcZG-vEC7V1plBi6SXoTtDhFj0EtUjArpeZSuKVg4x9qdljhe5lPGLs3jpecpqz0hQ_zQ8g/s220/DSC01659.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30936865320652604.post-2131255156390928197</id><published>2009-11-12T13:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T13:19:29.749-08:00</updated><title type='text'>शब्द म्हणतो.......</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;पारिजाताचे फुल&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;हातात पारिजाताचे फुल घेवून जेंव्हा तू मुठ झाकलीस&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;मला माहित होते ते फुल कोमेजेल.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;पण मी काहीच बोलले नाही,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;कारण मला वाटले कधी न कधी तुझे तुलाच ते उमजेल. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;तू ती मुठ उघडूच नयेस असं वारंवार वाटत होतं.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;कारण त्या फुलाचं कोमेजलेलं मन,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;निदान तुझ्या हातात तरी पहायचं नव्हतं.  &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;आज ह्या गोष्टीला अनेक वर्षे लोटली. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;रेशीमबंधांचे रुपांतर दोरखंडात झालेय. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;तुझ्या हातात फुलाचं कोमेजण मनाला स्पर्शत नाही;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;वठलेला पारिजात केंव्हाच उन्मळून पडलाय.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;मला कळतंय, तुला ते फुल सांभाळायचं होतं &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;अजाणता तुझ्या कडून ते कोमेजल.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;माझं मन कदाचित तू तेंव्हाच वाचलं असशील &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;पण दुर्दैव, फार उशिरा तुला ते समजलं.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;एकाच वाक्याचे किती वेग-वेगळे अर्थ लावता येतात, नाही का? म्हणजे जेंव्हा एखादा कवी आपली कल्पना मांडतो किंवा एखादा चित्रकार चित्र काढतो, तेंव्हा त्याच्या मनात जो अर्थ त्या कल्पनेचा असतो, पाहणाऱ्या प्रत्येकाला तो तसाच दिसतो असे नाही. उलट प्रत्येक माणूस आपल्या मानाने त्या कल्पनेचा अर्थ काढत असतो. फार वर्षांपूर्वी मी एक कविता लिहिली होती. माझ्या मते ती कविता अव्यक्त प्रेमाची होती. म्हणजे मुलीला मुलगा आवडतो पण ती सांगत नाही. पुढे दोघही आपापल्या दिशांना निघून जातात. बऱ्याच वर्षांनी मुलगा मुलीला परत भेटतो आणि आपल्या एके काळाच्या प्रेमाची कबुली देतो. पण मुलगी त्या भावनांच्या पलीकडे गेलेली असते. अशी माझी आपली साधी, सोप्पी, सरळ कविता होती.   ह्या कवितेतून दुसरा कुठला अर्थ निघू शकतो ह्याची मला काडीमात्रही कल्पना नव्हती. जेंव्हा पहिल्यांदा मी ही कविता आमच्या एका सरांना म्हणून दाखवली तेंव्हा त्यांच्या मते ही कविता एका प्रेमविवाह झालेल्या जोडप्याची होती. &quot;अकेले हम अकेले तुम&quot; सारखी. म्हणजे नवीन लग्न झाल्यावर बायकोला नवऱ्याचा आधार वाटतो. त्याची मुठ तिला सांभाळण्याची धडपड वाटते. काही वर्षांनी तीच मुठ म्हणजे तिच्या झेपेवर पहारा वाटतो. त्याला तिला सांभाळायचे असते आणि तिला भरारी घ्यायची  असते. काळजी आणि घुसमट ह्यातील रेषा तो कधी पार करतो, दोघानाही समजत नाही. दोघंही आपल्या परीने बरोबर असतात आणि समोरच्याच्या नजरेत दोषी.  मला दोन्ही  अर्थ आवडतात. शेवटी कवीने आपली लेखणी मांडायची. अर्थ काढणे वाचकावर सोडून द्यायचे.  because beauty lies in the eyes of beholder. नाही का? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/feeds/2131255156390928197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/30936865320652604/2131255156390928197' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30936865320652604/posts/default/2131255156390928197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30936865320652604/posts/default/2131255156390928197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post_12.html' title='शब्द म्हणतो.......'/><author><name>Mrs. Rao</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02587725075421053915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8BrvDreu39lIDs57D_V786bK_D7TSWF0JZyERFgV09YbiTeNWp3x8bQCEcZG-vEC7V1plBi6SXoTtDhFj0EtUjArpeZSuKVg4x9qdljhe5lPGLs3jpecpqz0hQ_zQ8g/s220/DSC01659.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30936865320652604.post-9135773264186807971</id><published>2009-11-11T10:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T10:16:35.833-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>कधी काळी मी कविता लिहायचे. गाता न येण्यासारख्या कविता. &quot;प्राची&quot;ला &quot;गच्ची&quot; जोडणे कधी मला जमले नाही. म्हणूनच कदाचित आता कविता चांगल्या जमत नाहीत. एखादी कविता सुचावी असे सोनेरी क्षण कधीतरीच येतात. अशाच एका सोनेरी क्षणाची हि निर्मिती. माझी कोणे एका काळाची कविता.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-weight: bold; &quot;&gt;अबोल&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;तू सांगायचास, मी ऐकायचे &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;ते मी अबोल होते म्हणून नाही &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;तर तुला बोलायला आवडायचं म्हणून.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;मग तशी प्रथाच पडली &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;आता दोघाही गप्प असतो.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;कारण तुझ्या कडले विषय संपलेत &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;आणि तुझे ऐकता ऐकता &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;मी बोलणेच विसरून गेलेय.......&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/feeds/9135773264186807971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/30936865320652604/9135773264186807971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30936865320652604/posts/default/9135773264186807971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30936865320652604/posts/default/9135773264186807971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Mrs. Rao</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02587725075421053915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8BrvDreu39lIDs57D_V786bK_D7TSWF0JZyERFgV09YbiTeNWp3x8bQCEcZG-vEC7V1plBi6SXoTtDhFj0EtUjArpeZSuKVg4x9qdljhe5lPGLs3jpecpqz0hQ_zQ8g/s220/DSC01659.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30936865320652604.post-7479143039010595438</id><published>2009-10-16T07:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T08:03:52.382-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heaven is......</title><content type='html'>for me, the heaven is not the white place with fog around, the goldeen gates and the wings. maybe because i don&#39;t know what it feels like. i believe in everything that i think will be possible in this lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for me, heaven is reading VaPu while listening to Sandeep Khare.&lt;br /&gt;for me, heaven is the perfect made cookie dough n the smell of fresh baked cookies.&lt;br /&gt;for me, heaven is kissing right under niagara falls.&lt;br /&gt;for me, heaven is winning a 20 dollar jackpot in Las Vegas.&lt;br /&gt;for me, heaven is feeling the marble of Taj Mahal in hot sunny summer afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;for me, heaven is seeing dolphins swim in mid ocean.&lt;br /&gt;for me, heaven is unnameable colors of sea in Key West.&lt;br /&gt;for me, heaven is witnessing seaside sunrise from my bed. &lt;br /&gt;for me, heaven is standing in the middle of lighted Times Square at 2 pm and still find world go by.&lt;br /&gt;for me, heaven is watching London from the London eye.&lt;br /&gt;for me, heaven is visiting the house of first inspiration, Sherlock Holmes.&lt;br /&gt;for me, heaven is walking along river theymes.&lt;br /&gt;for me, heaven is marrying my mr. right and finding out he is actually mr. right.&lt;br /&gt;for me, heaven is long drive on highway A1a in Florida.&lt;br /&gt;for me, heaven is wandering in the old town St. Augustine.&lt;br /&gt;for me, heaven is perfecting a recipe and adding it a personal touch.&lt;br /&gt;for me, heaven is talking to best friend all night over a cup of hot chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;for me, heaven is every feeling, every emotion, every smile which makes me grateful for having and living the life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can call me optimistic but i find pleasures in the small things.&lt;br /&gt;because for me, every small pleasure is heaven.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/feeds/7479143039010595438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/30936865320652604/7479143039010595438' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30936865320652604/posts/default/7479143039010595438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30936865320652604/posts/default/7479143039010595438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/2009/10/heaven-is.html' title='Heaven is......'/><author><name>Mrs. Rao</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02587725075421053915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8BrvDreu39lIDs57D_V786bK_D7TSWF0JZyERFgV09YbiTeNWp3x8bQCEcZG-vEC7V1plBi6SXoTtDhFj0EtUjArpeZSuKVg4x9qdljhe5lPGLs3jpecpqz0hQ_zQ8g/s220/DSC01659.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30936865320652604.post-3400745589483925187</id><published>2009-10-13T11:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T11:37:20.904-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Being Scared.......</title><content type='html'>Before marriage, I was a daredevil. I liked riding on racing bikes, sitting in the most dangerous rides in amusement parks, hiking and all sorts daring things. Then I got married. And within the minutes of &#39;subhmangal savadhan&#39; I changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of a sudden my heart started missing a beat even on stupid alladin ride in Disney. I didn&#39;t know what was the thing which made me go from warrior to woos  within a matter of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then something amazing happened. I was bit by an unknown creature from the sea. and when it was still unknown and I thought god forbid, if it&#39;s a snake which will kill me, it occurred to me. I always thought if I have a near death experience, i will think about lot of things and people, anyway I will be ready to die. but at that moment all I thought was who will take care of my beloved husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It&#39;s so amazing to know it&#39;s not the marriage which made me coward, it&#39;s the one live for makes the fear of dieing darker.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/feeds/3400745589483925187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/30936865320652604/3400745589483925187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30936865320652604/posts/default/3400745589483925187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30936865320652604/posts/default/3400745589483925187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/2009/10/being-scared.html' title='Being Scared.......'/><author><name>Mrs. Rao</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02587725075421053915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8BrvDreu39lIDs57D_V786bK_D7TSWF0JZyERFgV09YbiTeNWp3x8bQCEcZG-vEC7V1plBi6SXoTtDhFj0EtUjArpeZSuKVg4x9qdljhe5lPGLs3jpecpqz0hQ_zQ8g/s220/DSC01659.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30936865320652604.post-1136324918232159607</id><published>2009-09-29T15:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T15:19:55.697-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Salty Coffee</title><content type='html'>when I was a teenager, I read a story called &#39;salty coffe&#39;. it was a nice story about an average biy who falls in love with a beautiful girl. he asks her out and to his surprise she says yes. on their first date, out of nervousness the boy puts salt in his coffe instead of sugar and to cover that up, he tells a story about his chilhood on the seashore. the girl falls in love with him and marries him. she makes salty coffee for him all his life. when he dies, he leaves a note behind confessing he drank salty coffee just to keep her. the last line of the story said, when someone asks me how the salty coffee tastes, I say sweet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved that story. and I wanted a guy who can do that for me. then I grew up and fell in love for real. turned out salty coffee doesn&#39;t really tastes sweet...... well, rather it tastes really bad! &lt;br /&gt;every story is after all just a story and it doesn&#39;t teach you things real life teaches you. my love taught me, love isn&#39;t about drinking a salty coffee for rest of your life, it&#39;s about confiding and manning up about the mistake. telling the girl that u goofed up because she is beautiful. the story told me that the love exists but my prince charming taught me, love co-exists.  love is making the salty coffee sweet again and drinking it together sip by sip for the rest of your life.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/feeds/1136324918232159607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/30936865320652604/1136324918232159607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30936865320652604/posts/default/1136324918232159607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30936865320652604/posts/default/1136324918232159607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/2009/09/salty-coffee.html' title='Salty Coffee'/><author><name>Mrs. Rao</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02587725075421053915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8BrvDreu39lIDs57D_V786bK_D7TSWF0JZyERFgV09YbiTeNWp3x8bQCEcZG-vEC7V1plBi6SXoTtDhFj0EtUjArpeZSuKVg4x9qdljhe5lPGLs3jpecpqz0hQ_zQ8g/s220/DSC01659.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30936865320652604.post-3520164904298781856</id><published>2009-09-24T14:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T15:09:00.578-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Block.....</title><content type='html'>It&#39;s really been a long time since I wrote something. If this is called writer&#39;s block, looks like it stayed for a real long time. &lt;div&gt;There&#39;s been times when I sat in front of my laptop thinking of what to write. When we were kids, we always joked about the person who looks thoughtful but is really dumb. We used to say he thinks about what to think. Something like that happens to me every time i sit to write. So this blog is probably the a thought on what to write.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And this might be the first time I actually wrote something meaningless. But as the old saying goes, it&#39;s better to try and fail than just sitting there wondering about what might happen if I try. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so this blog is to break the block!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/feeds/3520164904298781856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/30936865320652604/3520164904298781856' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30936865320652604/posts/default/3520164904298781856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30936865320652604/posts/default/3520164904298781856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/2009/09/block.html' title='The Block.....'/><author><name>Mrs. Rao</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02587725075421053915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8BrvDreu39lIDs57D_V786bK_D7TSWF0JZyERFgV09YbiTeNWp3x8bQCEcZG-vEC7V1plBi6SXoTtDhFj0EtUjArpeZSuKVg4x9qdljhe5lPGLs3jpecpqz0hQ_zQ8g/s220/DSC01659.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30936865320652604.post-6556143112710170390</id><published>2009-01-12T14:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T14:13:11.634-08:00</updated><title type='text'>golden globe awards</title><content type='html'>and finally some Indian won a Golden Globe. so what, they called my beloved Rahman, &quot;Ruman&quot;, they sure are impressed by his talent as a music director. the mesmerising music and the soothing words of Gulzar sure did some magic after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all those moments of pride when an Indian is recognized in the world scenario, were overpouring yesterday. slumdog millionare is sure a good movie but why still a movie totally &#39;Indian&#39; isn&#39;t in competition? there comes the hope part.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i never stop hoping and the day isn&#39;t far away when people will pronounce &#39;the music maestro&#39; Rahman!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/feeds/6556143112710170390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/30936865320652604/6556143112710170390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30936865320652604/posts/default/6556143112710170390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30936865320652604/posts/default/6556143112710170390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/2009/01/golden-globe-awards.html' title='golden globe awards'/><author><name>Mrs. Rao</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02587725075421053915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8BrvDreu39lIDs57D_V786bK_D7TSWF0JZyERFgV09YbiTeNWp3x8bQCEcZG-vEC7V1plBi6SXoTtDhFj0EtUjArpeZSuKVg4x9qdljhe5lPGLs3jpecpqz0hQ_zQ8g/s220/DSC01659.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30936865320652604.post-8443143137324948024</id><published>2008-11-18T10:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T10:59:20.062-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the beggining........</title><content type='html'>Life is always full of new things. A new morning everyday with new hopes. The only reason we are alive is because we don&#39;t stop expecting and hoping for new things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my hope of future. New start to my same old words...........</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/feeds/8443143137324948024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/30936865320652604/8443143137324948024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30936865320652604/posts/default/8443143137324948024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30936865320652604/posts/default/8443143137324948024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://celebrationcalledlife-withlove.blogspot.com/2008/11/beggining.html' title='the beggining........'/><author><name>Mrs. Rao</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02587725075421053915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8BrvDreu39lIDs57D_V786bK_D7TSWF0JZyERFgV09YbiTeNWp3x8bQCEcZG-vEC7V1plBi6SXoTtDhFj0EtUjArpeZSuKVg4x9qdljhe5lPGLs3jpecpqz0hQ_zQ8g/s220/DSC01659.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>