<?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-31876318</id><updated>2024-10-04T19:01:13.577-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Iridescence</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>62</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-9189795975516472889</id><published>2019-09-17T20:10:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2019-09-17T20:11:58.050-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Illusions Mostly Occur Due to Top-down Perceptual Rather than Bottom-up Sensory Errors</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;There are various visual illusions
that exhibit different perceptual processes. In scientific psychology, the
question that always draws attention is to what extent perceptual processes are
driven by the top-down perception theory as opposed to bottom-up information.
Eysenck (1998) stated that bottom-up processing is reliant on external stimuli,
whereas top-down one is influenced by prior knowledge, expectations, context,
and so on. Carlson, Miller, Heth, Donahoe and Martin (2010) stated that the
process of perception, in the case of bottom-up processing, starts with the
features of the image that the retina captures. This information is then
processed in a hierarchical manner by the successively higher levels of the
visual system until the top of the system receives the information, and the
perception of the object occurs. In contrast, top-down processing entails
contextual information extracted from memory, and here the information is
passed on from higher to lower neural areas (Carlson et al., 2010). Top-down
effects are voluntary, whereas bottom-up is more of physiological in nature (Watanabe,
Nanez and Sasaki, 2001). Top-down theory of perception is supported by
constructivists like Bruner and Neisser, whereas
bottom-up theory is upheld by direct-realist like J.J. Gibson (Shea, 2013). The
conflict between these two groups of psychologists arises while interpreting
optical illusions, which are images ambiguous in nature, and therefore, can be
interpreted in dual ways. This paper will argue that illusions are the product
of top-down perceptual rather than bottom-up sensory errors. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;The top-down processing theory was
proposed by psychologist Richard Gregory who argued that stimulus information
gathered from our environment is ambiguous in nature, and hence in order to
interpret it correctly, we need higher cognitive information based on our past
experiences or knowledge stored in our brain to deduce a perception (Gregory,
1974). He believed that a lot of information (about 90%) our eyes see are lost
by the time this information reaches the brain and hence, our brain needs to
rely on the prior knowledge to make a perception of reality (Gregory, 1970).
Our perceptions are hypotheses influenced by our past and therefore, if we form
incorrect ones, then it will lead to errors in perception, such as forming
visual illusions like the Necker cube. The optical illusion of Necker cube was
first observed by Louis Albert Necker in 1982. The cube is ambiguous, because
it can be differently interpreted by different people. At the intersection
point, where two lines meet, it is unclear which is at the front, and
therefore, it can be perceived in two different ways (Woodson, 1979). &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;The question that arises is if
Gregory&#39;s theory of top-down perceptions involves interpreting an image based
on a hypothesis, what kinds of hypotheses are they. Hypotheses vary from one
person to another, because they are situational and are based on memory and
past experiences. Therefore,&lt;span style=&quot;color: red;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;the same optic
illusion can be interpreted in two ways in two different situations. For
instance, the picture below showcases a box. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG0_aArTgz1CE92SDa5h7ufNw_fzLNaTwWlTm36Xcd9N1ERwYe0wQA4VHM1ahG9LyBqunypzyem9VQzDrjECjxeu9wnVHF44N1sd8lcMQg83j6KAYmcJPdKrnUhPLESr82_P28/s1600/1.jpg.png&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; data-original-height=&quot;172&quot; data-original-width=&quot;141&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG0_aArTgz1CE92SDa5h7ufNw_fzLNaTwWlTm36Xcd9N1ERwYe0wQA4VHM1ahG9LyBqunypzyem9VQzDrjECjxeu9wnVHF44N1sd8lcMQg83j6KAYmcJPdKrnUhPLESr82_P28/s1600/1.jpg.png&quot; /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;When viewed alone&lt;u&gt;,
&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;the
picture engages your brain in bottom-up processing, because apparently, it does
not involve any optical illusion. The three thin horizontal lines and two thick
vertical lines seen in the picture do not give any special context to derive a
specific meaning. Hence, it does not involve any top-down processing (Carbon,
2014). But if the picture is positioned in two different situations, the brain
engages in making a perception based on hypotheses. For example, when the image
is placed in between two letters A and B, the brain perceives the image as
letter &#39;B&#39;, whereas when the same image is put between two numbers 11 and 12,
the brain hypothesizes it as number &#39;13&#39;. This shows that hypotheses vary in
different situations.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;On the other hand, Gibson, who
proposed the bottom-up perception theory, argued against Gregory&#39;s concept of
top-down visual illusions on the grounds that Gregory&#39;s perceptions of reality
are based on artificial images and not real ones found in normal visual
environments. Gibson (1966) believed that perceptions are survival mechanisms
influenced by evolution, and it does not involve learning. He claims that perceptions
are direct and not the result of hypotheses as Gregory proposed. Gibson argued
that when we receive information from the visual environment about an object&#39;s
size, shape, or color, our brain perceives it as what we see (Gibson, 1972).
The perception does not involve interpretation because the whole perception is
based on sensory stimuli. According to Gibson (1972), perception is a bottom-up
process because it follows a pattern of how the information is received. The
whole process begins with an analysis of the pattern of light, known as optic
array, that reaches the eyes, with all the visual information required for
further processing. The information received is passed on to the retina where
the process of transduction into electrical impulses starts, and these impulses
are then relayed to the brain which triggers further responses along the visual
trajectories until they reach the visual cortex for the final processing of
information (Gibson, 1972).&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Though Gibson&#39;s theory provided an
explanation for the direct perception of the environment, he, however, could not
provide any logical reasoning for the optical illusions. He reasoned that the
images used for optical illusions are highly artificial in nature, and the
chances for such images to be encountered in real word are very rare (Gibson,
1972). However, it is not true that optical illusions cannot be experienced in
natural environmental conditions. For instance, a stick looks straight if you
hold it in front of your eyes, but if you put the stick in a glass of water, it
looks bent. The stick looking bent is not an artificial image that we do not
encounter in real life. The difference between the two perceptions is that in
the case of the stick looking straight, the stimulus energy reflecting from the
stick to the retina sent information to the brain that is the direct mental
representation, which is supported by Gibson’s theory of direct perception
(Favela &amp;amp; Chemero, 2016). However, in the case of the stick looking bent in
water, the stimulus energy reflecting from the stick to the retina sent
information to the brain that results in an illusion (Favela &amp;amp; Chemero,
2016). The stick looks bent, however, it is not really bent.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;This example of a
bent stick suggests that Gibson&#39;s theory explains perceptions based on ideal
viewing conditions, whereas Gregory&#39;s theory involves viewing in conditions
that are not ideal.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;When Gibson argued that the
ambiguous images used for top-down theory of perceptions are unreal, he failed
to take a note of a few factors. Firstly, it is true that some pictures with
ambiguous features or two-dimensional or three-dimensional drawings used for
experimentation purpose are unnatural, but we encounter a lot of ambiguous
images in real-life situations that are not the result of unnatural lab
experiments. The straight stick looking bent in water is one such example. The
illusion of the stick looking bent can be experienced by two individuals at the
same time. Secondly, perceptual apparatuses of different animals are different,
and therefore, a natural image may produce optical illusion in a natural
environmental condition because of how the brain perceives information (Favela
&amp;amp; Chemero, 2016). For example, though the illusion of a bent stick in water
can appear same to the eyes of two people who have the same perceptual
mechanisms, the stick may look straight in water to the eyes of a gannet that
has the capacity of accommodating light refraction at the boundary of air and
water. Gibson failed to consider the visual capacity of the&lt;u&gt; perceiver&lt;/u&gt; while
dismissing optical illusions.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Direct realists like Gibson argue
that since the top-down processing of perception depends on hypotheses while
interpreting information, if the hypotheses are misleading, then it will result
in a wrong perception of an image or a situation (Carbon, 2014). For example, making
typos during texting or typing is common among people and the readers while
reading through a typo use the filling-in phenomena by filling in missing
details. In such a case, the brain simply extracts prior information from
memory and rearranges or fills in the missing letters within the words. If the
prior knowledge registered in the brain is faulty, then there are chances for
the brain to make wrong hypotheses and erroneous processing of typos. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;What direct realists overlook is
that the fundamental principle behind top-down processing theory lies in making
a connection between sensory inputs and our semantic networks. The
knowledge base or the semantic network determines what kind of hypotheses an
individual is likely to make (Costall, 1980). The hypotheses made by one
individual could be different from that of another one, depending on their
previous experience (Kohn, 2007). Since no two people have similar past
experiences, their perceptual system varies. For example, if we read an old
book where coffee stains have obscured partial information, some of the letters
have become blurred, and the decay processes have made the white paper turn
into a yellowish substance, we can read only the fragments of the text and then
reconstruct the general meaning of what we read by making hypotheses (Carbon,
2008). In other words, we fill the gaps of missing texts and passages depending
on our prior experience. The meaning gathered from the text could vary from one
individual to another, as both have different past experiences.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Another good example is the famous
man-rat illusion where the sketching is ambiguous in nature and not easily
decipherable. So, one can interpret that the image is of a man while another
can interpret it as an image of a rat (Carbon, 2014). For most people, the
perception of the images switches from man to rat. This is a fascinating
example of an illusion that demonstrates the mental capacity of a human being
to switch from one meaning to another (Carbon, 2014). It also reveals the
intriguing process of our brain that makes the initial perception through the
activation of our semantic network. If one has the experience of seeing a
picture of a man before, or if one knows what a man looks like or has heard the
word &quot;man&quot;, then one is more likely to interpret the ambiguous
picture as an image of a man. If one&#39;s previous experiences were more
associated with a rat, or another animal of such kind, then one is more likely
to interpret the image as a rat (Carbon, 2014).&amp;nbsp;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Another factor that counteracts
Gibson&#39;s claim that if the knowledge base is erroneous, then it will lead to
perceptual errors is how our perception is based on the expectation we keep
from a scene. For example, while entering a classroom, we expect to see a black
or whiteboard and desks. If these objects are present in the classroom, we
rapidly interpret them. If these elements that we are expecting to see in a
classroom are not present in the scene, it leads to perceptual errors. Biederman
(1981) showed in his experiment that there was an increased error in
identifying fire hydrants when they were placed in kitchens. The same error
happened in identifying sofas when they were placed in city streets. It happens
because our brain is used to seeing an object in its designated place. The
brain will have difficulty in processing information when the object is not
seen in its usual context. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;
In conclusion, it is worth mentioning that there are two groups of
perceptual theorists: top-down perceptual theorists and bottom-up theorists. The
first ones, known as constructivists, believe that perception is influenced by
contexts, prior experience, and expectations. Bottom-up theorists, also called
realists, believe that perception is sensation and is the direct result of
external stimuli. Constructivists interpret optical illusions on the ground of
prior knowledge, contextual information, and expectations, whereas direct
realists dismiss the existence of optical illusion, calling it an unnatural
phenomenon that does not take place in natural environment condition. However,
optical illusions are not only two-dimensional or three-dimensional distorted
images. They can be encountered in the natural environment too, as seen in the
example of a straight stick looking bent in water. Direct realists also argue
that the interpretation of illusions is based on hypotheses and hypotheses
influenced by prior knowledge are prone to errors if the knowledge base is
misleading. However, the determination of hypotheses to be erroneous in nature
is not an easy process, because hypotheses are influenced by prior experience,
expectations, and contextual information. All these three variables could be
subjective in nature, and therefore, it cannot be stated with conviction that
hypotheses could be misleading.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div align=&quot;center&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;&quot;&gt;References&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;line-height: normal; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Biederman, I.
(1981). On the semantics of a glance at a scene. In M. Kubovy and J. Pomerantz,
Eds., &lt;i&gt;Perceptual Organization&lt;/i&gt;. Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;line-height: normal; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Carbon C. C.
(2008). Famous faces as icons. The illusion of being an expert in the
recognition of famous faces. &lt;i&gt;Perception,&lt;/i&gt; 37, 801–806 &amp;nbsp;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;line-height: normal; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Carbon, C. (2014).
Understanding human perception by human-made illusions. &lt;i&gt;Front Hum Neurosci&lt;/i&gt;.
8, 566. Retrieved from https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4116780/&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;line-height: normal; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Carlson, N. R.,
Miller, H., Heth, C. D., Donahoe, J. W., &amp;amp; Martin, G. N. (2010). &lt;i&gt;Psychology:
the science of behavior &lt;/i&gt;(7th (International) ed.). Boston, MA: Allyn &amp;amp;
Bacon (Pearson).&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;line-height: normal; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Costall, A.
(1980). The three faces of Edgar Rubin. &lt;i&gt;Perception&lt;/i&gt;. 9, 115. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;line-height: normal; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Eysenck, M. W.
(1998). &lt;i&gt;Psychology: an integrated approach&lt;/i&gt;. Harlow: Addison Wesley
Longman.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;line-height: normal; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Favela, L.H. &amp;amp;
Chemero, A. (2016). An ecological account of visual “Illusions”. &lt;i&gt;Florida
Philosophical Society&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;i&gt;16&lt;/i&gt; (1),
68-93. Retrieved from https://philosophy.cah.ucf.edu/fpr/files/16_1/Favela_and_Chemero.pdf&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;line-height: normal; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Gibson, J. J.
(1972). A Theory of Direct Visual Perception. In J. Royce, W. Rozenboom (Eds.).
&lt;i&gt;The Psychology of Knowing.&lt;/i&gt; New York: Gordon &amp;amp; Breach.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;line-height: normal; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Gibson, J. J.(1966).&lt;i&gt;The
Senses Considered as Perceptual Systems&lt;/i&gt;. Boston: Houghton Mifflin.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;line-height: normal; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Gregory, R.
(1970). &lt;i&gt;The Intelligent Eye&lt;/i&gt;. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;line-height: normal; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Gregory, R.
(1974). &lt;i&gt;Concepts and Mechanisms of Perception&lt;/i&gt;. London: Duckworth.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;line-height: normal; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Kohn, A. (2007).
Visual Adaptation: Physiology, Mechanisms, and Functional Benefits. &lt;i&gt;Journal
of neurophysiology&lt;/i&gt;, 97, 3155-3164. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;line-height: normal; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Shea, N. (2013).
Distinguishing Top-Down From Bottom-Up Effects. Perception and Its Modalities.
Retrieved from http://www.nyu.edu/gsas/dept/philo/courses/readings/2013.topdown.final.pdf&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;line-height: normal; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Watanabe, T.,
Nanez, J. E., &amp;amp; Sasaki, Y. (2001). Perceptual learning without perception. &lt;i&gt;Nature&lt;/i&gt;,
413, 844-848. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormalCxSpMiddle&quot; style=&quot;line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;line-height: normal; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Woodson, P.P.
(1979). A Test of Two Theories of the Necker Cube Reversal Illusion. &lt;i&gt;University
of Richmond&lt;/i&gt;. 1265. Retrieved from &amp;lt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://pdfs.semanticscholar.org/7573/8c68d6eae784b9dc4192061226132d126e89.pdf&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;https://pdfs.semanticscholar.org/7573/8c68d6eae784b9dc4192061226132d126e89.pdf&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormalCxSpMiddle&quot; style=&quot;line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;times new roman&amp;quot; , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/9189795975516472889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/9189795975516472889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/9189795975516472889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/9189795975516472889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2019/09/illusions-mostly-occur-due-to-top-down.html' title='Illusions Mostly Occur Due to Top-down Perceptual Rather than Bottom-up Sensory Errors'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG0_aArTgz1CE92SDa5h7ufNw_fzLNaTwWlTm36Xcd9N1ERwYe0wQA4VHM1ahG9LyBqunypzyem9VQzDrjECjxeu9wnVHF44N1sd8lcMQg83j6KAYmcJPdKrnUhPLESr82_P28/s72-c/1.jpg.png" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-5586200047053491174</id><published>2013-01-10T20:41:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2013-01-11T12:34:06.949-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Women Against Women</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;In the wake of the recent horrific incident in Delhi, some womenfolk have suddenly been stirred out of their impassivity into sudden sympathetic mode on the ordeal of their less fortunate sisters. Please don&#39;t misunderstand me, I am not being sarcastic and I am not generalizing women with my remark. But my observations and experiences in life have shown me that women themselves don&#39;t empathize with other women. Most of the time I have seen women, in group, either criticizing harshly the one woman who has taken a bold step in voicing protest against something wrong or
playing the role of mute spectators, in a manner of complete indifference to
something not concerning them, to the suffering of other women.For instance, take the rape case of Park Street in Kolkata. Who labeled the lady in distress as prostitute? A woman chief minister, who being a woman herself, can be expected to exhibit a minimum amount of compassion was the first person to put the victim&#39;s character under scrutiny. Just because the victim, a mother of two, didn&#39;t act by the rules demarcated by the society doesn&#39;t make her a prostitute. When the power holders of our country try to lessen the gravity of a crime by publicly calling the victim a prostitute, it sends the message loud and clear that rape on a prostitute is admissible and not liable to punishment. What is the definition of a prostitute? According to the dictionary meaning, a prostitute is a woman who sleeps with men in exchange of money, but in practical life the word is slapped on any woman not following the set of conventions drawn by the patriarchal society. &#39;Prostitute&#39;, a word of humiliation, is used as a very strong abusive word to denigrate woman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;One of my female friends in college had problem with another girl studying in the same batch. The reason for her hatred towards the other girl was unknown to me since both of them had studied in the same school and knew each other a long time before even I met them. Now my friend used to call the other girl a &#39;prostitute&#39; behind her back, the reason she explained was that girl used to roam around with a lot of boys. Now though all of us studied in the same college, I never had the opportunity to know the other girl personally until I enrolled for masters in CU. We happened to study in the same tuition class where I got to interact with the girl branded a &#39;prostitute&#39; by my friend. She was a very decent girl hailing from a good family and nothing in her demeanor would speak ill of her character. But there she was a victim of slander by her own school batch mate. It is a tendency seen among many women to damage the reputation of another woman they have rivalry with by throwing mud at her character. A woman&#39;s character is a soft spot very easy to be defiled in our society.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;A woman I know went belligerent on Orkut when ditched by her long standing boyfriend for another woman, she posted pictures of both hers with her bf and the bf with the new woman in the same album exposing how the man had cheated on her. The number of people verbally abusing her far outweighed the number of people supporting her stand. Starting from the word &#39;prostitute&#39; she was showered with malicious remarks and defamatory emails. She told me that her friends from school even refused to recognize her after that incident and yes, she studied in a girls&#39; school. The man she was in live-in relationship with for more than couple of years chose to marry the girl his parents chose for him, the reason was utterly nonsense. A woman who could consummate a relationship before marriage is not worth marrying, according to his family. But what about the man who played the same role in the live-in scenario?? &#39;Shonar Aangti&#39;, a golden ring that&#39;s what an Indian man is, impervious to all blemishes. This attitude of the society in putting the blame on women for everything boosts up the confidence of men with ulterior motives. Coupled with that, the lack of security measures for women, blatant insensitive remarks by those in power and incompetent police force all contribute to emboldening the perpetrators of crimes against women. That&#39;s why the number of rape incidents keeps increasing every year by leaps and bounds. According to statistics most of the rape cases after languishing for years in court either are nullified on the ground of consensual sex or cancelled due to lack of evidence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;In most cases, perpetrators of sexual violence are granted acquittal upon which they live a normal life with family and children, while their victims bear the brunt of mental and physical trauma, social ostracism and a lifelong ignominy. In our country it’s very easy to dismiss a woman or suppress her voice by slinging mud at her character. Just prove her a ‘prostitute’ and the case is resolved. It is easier to put a rape victim’s character under doubt than proving the culprits guilty of rape. What are the factors that determine a woman of questionable character? Well, the parameters vary from people to people. For some, a woman going out without shrouding herself in burkha or veil is a ‘prostitute’. For some, a woman going out or mingling with boys is a ‘prostitute’. Any woman acting beyond the set of boundaries imposed by the society or a woman questioning the restrictive and regressive social practices is a prostitute for some. As I said, it’s easier to label a woman as prostitute than proving a culprit guilty and since many power holders with their remarks make it obvious that physical assault on a prostitute is an allowable offense, not liable to punishment, if a situation comes when me or you might have our characters put on trial just like the Park Street rape survivor, you or me are likely to be branded a ‘prostitute’ and face the world with the stigma awarded by the government.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;So ladies, before we talk about changing the outlook of society towards women, please keep this in mind next time when you bitch ugly about a woman friend of yours. It&#39;s the lack of unity within us that is always taken advantage of. Please next time when you see a woman being unnecessarily heckled by people just because she has taken a stance to protest against a wrong done to her, instead of joining the group hurling a volley of aspersions to the woman, please extend your moral support to bolster her voice. I know there are a lot of great women in the world, who continue to give us inspiration through their courage and undying spirit, but this article&amp;nbsp;doesn&#39;t&amp;nbsp;address them, it addresses that section of women who are first on the line in pointing finger at another woman. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/5586200047053491174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/5586200047053491174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/5586200047053491174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/5586200047053491174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2013/01/women-against-women.html' title='Women Against Women'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-8051939159629353165</id><published>2012-12-20T15:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-12-20T16:06:09.072-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Hole of Security in US Schools</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;

&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966;&quot;&gt;An
interesting question was put to me by my sister, &quot;America, a land of
opportunities and a dream destination for many, how could schools there after
31 school shootings don&#39;t have their security level strengthened a bit that
anyone can enter a school premise at any given time and randomly shoot children
and how could guns be accessible to any Tom Dick and Harry that any psychopath
can target children and innocent people to vent his outrage?&quot; Isn&#39;t a
school supposed to be one of the safest places in the world so that mothers
while sending their children off to schools don&#39;t feel fear of their children
returning dead or injured riddled with bullets? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;

&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966;&quot;&gt;The school
where I used to work in Kolkata was a very ordinary government run school but it too used to close the gate  of entrance the moment the school started its session  for
the day. At least one security guard was placed in front of the gate throughout
the time the school was in session to ensure that anyone entering the school
did have proper reasons for a visit. The big renowned schools are all guarded
with security personnel to keep constant vigil; every car is screened before
passing the school gates. Thanks to almighty, till now we have no incident of
school children being randomly shot at point blank range to their deaths.
Despite a lot of law and order problems in our country, India is safe at least
so far as killing people randomly on roads with guns is concerned. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;

&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966;&quot;&gt;Why these minimal
security measures like screening people before allowing entrance in schools are
not put in place in US schools to ascertain safety for children? Instead, most
of the people are here talking about training teachers in gun usage. Is it a
viable option for teachers to enter a classroom with guns making a school turn
into a potential field of battle? Is there any guarantee that not a single
student will be harmed caught between the exchange of gunfire between teachers
and the assailant? What if a naive student out of curiosity taking the
opportunity of the teacher&#39;s moment of absent mindedness clicks the trigger in
the classroom shooting someone, may be accidentally, fatally? There are a lot
of risk factors involved in introducing guns to teachers, rather, what could have
been a very simple action like strengthening security in schools is totally out
of discussion. The schools instead of giving guns to teachers could install armed
security personnel at the entrance making sure every unknown person is frisked
before allowing entrance in schools just like they do in airports. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;

&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;

&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/8051939159629353165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/8051939159629353165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/8051939159629353165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/8051939159629353165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2012/12/big-hole-of-security-in-us-schools.html' title='Big Hole of Security in US Schools'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-8410348367129556500</id><published>2012-10-09T12:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-10-09T12:35:07.540-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baking Gone Wrong </title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;&quot;&gt;Cooking/baking mishap is a
common phenomenon everyone cooking or baking in the kitchen must have
encountered at least once (in my case pretty often) in their life. Sometimes
out of unmindfulness we botch up a dish that we might have cooked umpteen times
earlier by missing out on some key ingredients or blundering a crucial step. If
while cooking, I enter a serious conversation with someone, chances of my
forgetting something to add are ample with the final output turning awful in
taste. Hence usually when I invite someone over to my place, I keep everything
ready beforehand so as to avoid culinary disasters. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;&quot;&gt;As if precautions are not
all the time useful in keeping hazards away, sometimes, troubles come uninvited
when a slight oversight in calculation can put a damper on all your efforts and
hard work as it did happen yesterday while I set myself to baking a lemon pie. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;&quot;&gt;Hours’ worth of pain in
baking a lemon pie went down the drain when unknown to my knowledge the lemon
rinds settled to the bottom of the bowl I used for mixing the ingredients and
the turnout, denuded of the sweet lemony yellow color was looking pale white,
to my absolute frustration. The thing went wrong from the moment in order to
give scalloped edges to the pie; I changed the baking dish twice. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;&quot;&gt;I admit I am still an
amateur in making pies. It will take some time for me to get comfortable with
the entire process of pie making. However, today I was determined to make the
go successful until the shortfall in the amount of butter required caught my
notice. It was too late; I didn&#39;t want to send my hubby rushing to the grocery
store, third time in the evening. So I adjusted the flour and the remaining
ingredients for the crust in proportion to the butter; still everything turned
amiss for my one single mistake in using a pie dish smaller in size. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;&quot;&gt;The crust came nice,
thankfully, but the topping was in excess of what the pie dish could contain,
so it spilled over. Panicked, I backed away from pouring the remaining topping
batter into the pie dish and quickly putting my presence of mind into action
decided upon baking a batch of lemon muffins with the residue. So I added
baking powder and baking soda into the batter and just as I started spooning it
into the muffin molds, my hubby gently reminded me of the muffins I baked few
weeks back that were completely parched and chewy in texture as a result of my
being forgetful to add butter. As luck would have it, I was forgetting butter
this time too, but due to my hubby’s timely reminder I saved myself from a
pang of throwing another set of muffins into the garbage bin. Since butter was
absent at home on that day at that time, I used canola oil instead and voila,
lemon muffins turned out really cool with color shimmering between orange and
lemonish yellow. Gorgeous! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;&quot;&gt;Alas! I can&#39;t say the same
for the lemon pie, which to my utter dismay was pale white, the top a tad over
baked. The reason for the distinguishing difference in color between the two
goodies that were baked using the same batter was due to the lemon rinds
accumulating at the bottom of the mixing bowl, the last dreg of which went into
the muffins lending them a beautiful color whereas the lemon pie, to my
oblivion, received a miniscule of the lemon rinds, the agent that lends color
and flavour to lemon goodies and resultantly ended up looking drab. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599; font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;On hindsight, I realize I
should not have taken up the baking project at all for I was not feeling well
that day since morning. You cannot expect perfect turnouts with half-hearted
effort. Some pics of the baking gone wrong captured for your view:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Andalus&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Andalus&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/8410348367129556500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/8410348367129556500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/8410348367129556500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/8410348367129556500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2012/10/baking-gone-wrong.html' title='Baking Gone Wrong '/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwqBhNGC-_K6UdLE7iEHdjMwJc8vKJyCOkOZNoa40ZGbyQtoJvY5tlgHlWrDdFDSyGGbIZorPW7D6lwDF4MX3jPGN6I-I4vV0eXz8pMaiPTzE7Gv4R9iRtIyuOrJWYt0ueAzsq/s72-c/muffin2.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-8501288657545817790</id><published>2012-09-10T10:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-09-12T22:35:04.094-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Housemaid and A Newly Wed Wife</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f1c232;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f1c232;&quot;&gt;

&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Andalus&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f1c232;&quot;&gt;Life is a long road trip that puts us through a lot of
hardships to test our perseverance, determination and courage and along the way
we collect pebbles of memories; the pleasant ones bring smile to our face each
time we cut back to those moments and those, not so pleasant, are pitched away
to the farthest corner of our minds. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f1c232;&quot;&gt;

&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Andalus&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f1c232;&quot;&gt;Immediately after marriage when we shifted from Pune to
Kolkata, I encountered adversities galore in terms of managing household on my
own. One after another maids came and went, each giving me tough time regarding
regularity of coming, cleanliness and most important of all &#39;reliability&#39;.
Nevertheless, the girl we hired to cook made a favourable impression on me. For
the convenience of understanding, I would address her as ‘B’ through the rest
of the article. So &#39;B&#39; was very young, few years younger to me and unlike other
maids who were all older and hence tried means to put me down, she easily made
her way to my heart by her obedient and friendly nature. In fact, within a
matter of few months, she managed to earn my absolute trust and I began to rely
on her completely for every small errand. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f1c232;&quot;&gt;

&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Andalus&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f1c232;&quot;&gt;At that time I used to be pretty careless with my stuff
which I kept strewn all over the place. But not for a single time the thought
that &#39;B&#39; could pick away anything without asking me crossed my mind. I found
her completely trustworthy and to some extent as I already used to give a lot
of things away to her unasked, I never felt that she would breach my trust by
stealing. My mother, however, heckled by and tired of her maidservants
cherished a different opinion. She warned me a lot of time to remain watchful
with my things when maids are around, but I, used to the habit of throwing
every caution to the wind, ignored her advice most of the time until one day
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f1c232;&quot;&gt;when a big burglary took place in a neighbouring flat two floors down in our apartment builidng that I first thought of being cautious.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f1c232;&quot;&gt;

&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Andalus&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f1c232;&quot;&gt;We used to stay in a 2BHK at that time. Most of the days,
&#39;B&#39; would go slow in wrapping up her work that I, in order to reach my
workplace on time, was forced to go to the bathroom keeping my home
unsupervised to her advantage. The idea was while I busied myself taking bath,
she would be finishing off the last minute cleaning of the kitchen and the washing
and drying of our clothes. Fortunately, I was a tad wise to keep my bedroom
under lock and key. The other room with the attached bathroom had to be kept
accessible to her for her need of rinsing clothes.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f1c232;&quot;&gt;

&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Andalus&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f1c232;&quot;&gt;Many a time when I would give her something, clothes or
foods, she would neatly tie them up in plastic packets which were aplenty in
our house, thanks to our weekly shopping at the nearby supermarket and would place
that at the entrance door of our flat. Most of the days I would find her
squatting on the floor of our hallway waiting for me to get out of the bathroom
and as soon as I would come out, she would hurriedly walk away, with the packet
tightly held under her armpit, in the direction of the lift in our 12 storied apartments.
Although many a time I was pinched by a sudden desire to see inside the packet
she was carrying, I withheld myself every time from doing so on account of bad
manners. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f1c232;&quot;&gt;

&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Andalus&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f1c232;&quot;&gt;One day I completed my shower in less time than usual and
came out of the bathroom early while the sound of clothes pounding against the
marble floor of the bathroom in the next room came to my ears. That day I gave
her an old salwaar of mine, which although was in pretty good condition lost my
favour among the host of new dresses I got as gifts in my wedding, not to
mention the ones dearly presented by hubby. So I gifted that dress to her in
the morning of that fateful day and she loved it instantly, the expression on
her face betraying her pleasure. Standing in front of the bathroom, I saw the
plastic packet neatly folded up at the corner of our entrance door across the
hallway. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Andalus&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f1c232;&quot;&gt;Somewhat driven by my mother&#39;s constant counsel to practice
caution, I suddenly felt the urge to check into the packet to verify my
mother&#39;s speculation against my goodwill. There opened a Pandora&#39;s box when I
pulled out one by one a lot of items including food and a bed sheet stashed
away in a clever manner inside the salwar several folds under, out of the
packet. What unfolded to me later on that she had been doing this, I mean,
sneaking items from the kitchen and from my house under my nose ever since I reposed
my absolute trust and began depending on her. That I never felt the need to
check into the things she was carrying in the plastic bag only strengthened her
confidence on my stupidity and gullibility and emboldened, she went on pulling
off her stunt until caught red handed. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f1c232;&quot;&gt;

&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Andalus&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f1c232;&quot;&gt;I remember one day while helping me with the pleats of
saree, she casually enquired of my ornaments coffer, which though surprised me
a bit didn&#39;t arouse any suspicion then. Now that I have become seasoned in the
matter of keeping home well managed, I sometimes look back and feel surprised
that for some people, it does not take a moment to betray someone&#39;s trust. As
my goodwill fell flat before my mother&#39;s years of experience, I am left to
wonder whether people economically deprived may ever establish a good
sustaining rapport built on trust with the economically privileged ones. The
question is open to discussion.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f1c232;&quot;&gt;

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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/8501288657545817790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/8501288657545817790' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/8501288657545817790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/8501288657545817790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2012/09/housemaid-and-newly-wed-wife.html' title='Housemaid and A Newly Wed Wife'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-6229959385566429087</id><published>2012-03-15T11:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-03-26T16:52:39.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kutch Work and Satin Stitches : Two Astounding Salwars</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: black; color: #ead1dc; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;It&#39;s been quite some time when I made my last entry. With so many changes going around in my life, I got busy all of a sudden. Recently, only in last week on this day, my hubby became ill and passed out in the morning, scaring the hell out of me. In a foreign country where I have not yet&amp;nbsp;been a month, if such unexpected thing happens for which you are not prepared either mentally or financially, it puts a lot of pressure on your nerve. It was one nerve-wrecking moment for me when I saw Debu lying unconscious on the floor taken by a sudden seizure. It&#39;s only in USA that quick help arrives at a phone call and I am lucky that this thing happened here else if the same would have occured in India immediately after relocating to a new place away from&amp;nbsp;my hometown, I don&#39;t know how I would have coped up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: black;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ead1dc;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;For a long time, I have been thinking of&amp;nbsp;entering a post on the recently finished embroidery projects but somehow could not make enough time. Just at the start of every year, I undertake several sewing and embroidery projects and along the way I get bored with the whole thing only to put them on the back burner for an indefinite period of time. As the news of Debu&#39;s onsite deployment came, I went into a mad rush to bring my unfinished and half-finished embroidery projects to a close for lots of raw materials bought at the cost of hefty amount of money would go to a waste otherwise.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;This snapshot is of the one I stitched for my sister in law. The entire salwar kurta has been embroidered with kutch work or what is popularly known in Kolkata as &quot;Gujrati stitch&quot;. &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: black; color: #ead1dc; font-family: Trebuchet MS;&quot;&gt;Well, embroidery is my passion, but upon shifting to Bangalore, once I got myself occupied with a hectic schedule, I hardly could manage any time to pursue my hobby. Corporate jobs are too demanding of your time. So just when the time came to pack things up again to relocate to a new place, my sense suddenly reminded me of the unpleasant experience during out last relocation when I lost quite a valuable important items. I didn&#39;t want the same to be repeated again and so was the rush to finish the ones which are in half-finished state.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: black; color: #ead1dc; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;That way during our trip to Kolkata prior to flying to USA, I could have some salwars stitched for myself and some to be gifted away&amp;nbsp;to my relatives. However, despite my painstaking effort, only three embroidery projects were done and dusted with on time. One is the salwar where I did kutch work and presented to my sister in law. Another is a bed cover done with the rare palestrian knot stitches and gifted to my mother. Unfortunately, my hubby forgot to capture the pics of the bedcover so can&#39;t upload them till we visit Kolkata again. Last one is a salwaar kurti for myself. I have used very fine satin stitches along with sequins to add an extra resplendence. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: black; color: #ead1dc; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;The photo above and the ones below are of the salwar kurti I embroidered for myself with delicate satin stitches, fishbones and seed stitches accentuated further by a line of sequins. It has been tailored into a salwaar now paired with a baby pink pant and baby pink dupatta. I am looking for an occasion to wear it. I promise to upload some pics of mine wearing it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: black; color: #ead1dc; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;While working on the motif, I was planning to gift it to someone when completed, but greedy me, I fell in love with the turnout. Hence, I kept it for myself :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: black; color: #ead1dc; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Now, some more projects are underway, one of them is a silk saree. My sister in law gifted the saree to me on my wedding registry. The saree is beautiful, but with a thought to add some more blings, I am doing mirror work on it. Just can&#39;t wait to finish it, but 12 yards of saree is not dead easy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/6229959385566429087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/6229959385566429087' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/6229959385566429087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/6229959385566429087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2012/03/kutch-work-and-satin-stitches-two.html' title='Kutch Work and Satin Stitches : Two Astounding Salwars'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNglb09gcI6NrihYFsWve8IDVrfgFAxy6Ej5BYCK_kJiDzrvOSxWLzvMcLZ5UAOEzfTX8oSn8x7D5WNLaY1v50jiF9kFMcER0BZ4-akoOxw0v3Kr_lrs2aefja5P7F164O7VwZ/s72-c/stit.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-7189230816476389753</id><published>2012-01-10T07:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T07:35:47.156-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Deadly Piranha</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;Today in the evening I was watching a programme on Animal Planet about piranhas where the&amp;nbsp;fearless wild life&amp;nbsp;enthusiast Jeremy Wade with nerve made of steel embarked on a venture to find out the truth behind piranha stories of eating humans alive within minutes. In his quest of finding out the truth, Jeremy threw himself into an Amazon river filled with piranhas to see if they would attack him or not&amp;nbsp;and what triggers their feeding frenzy. But interestingly piranhas didn&#39;t attack him. Next in a swimming pool, a cluster of piranhas were made to starve for a day. The next day Jeremy threw a piece of meat into the pool to see their reaction and piranhas devoured the piece of meat within minutes. He then dived into the swimming pool but to his astonishment not a single piranha showed any interest in him. He probed deep into the case of an accident that occurred in the 70s when a bus spun out of control and headed on to the Amazon River. Around 40 people were dead and eaten alive. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;The revelations he came across during the investigation is quite amazing. Piranhas don&#39;t attack their victims unless they are hungry, of course and unless the victims are hurt and bleeding. When the victims are in helpless condition or someway catching their attention, like in an incident piranhas attacked a group of 8 people swimming in the sea and their flailing arms and legs in the water during swimming caught notice. In the event of about 40 people eaten alive after an accident, the victims, injured and stuck inside the bus were desperately trying to come out and this helplessness alerted them about potential victims. If you stay still in water swimming slowly without thrashing about unnecessarily, chances of piranhas attacking you is slim, so I presume upon watching the programme. Hats off to Jeremy for his bold dare devilry and what&#39;s amusing he calls himself a &quot;human guinea pig&quot; every time he takes a risk upon himself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;Curiously enough, prima facie piranhas look quite cute, just like other small fishes but a close view revealing their razor sharp teeth give a hint of their murderous nature. Those of you interested in catching glimpses of the programme may check out the following videos:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;http://animal.discovery.com/videos/river-monsters-piranhas-devour-a-duck.html&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f3f3f3;&quot;&gt;http://animal.discovery.com/videos/river-monsters-piranhas-devour-a-duck.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f3f3f3;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://animal.discovery.com/videos/river-monsters-swimming-in-a-piranha-pool.html&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f3f3f3;&quot;&gt;http://animal.discovery.com/videos/river-monsters-swimming-in-a-piranha-pool.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/7189230816476389753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/7189230816476389753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/7189230816476389753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/7189230816476389753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2012/01/deadly-piranha.html' title='Deadly Piranha'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-6623173226915168447</id><published>2011-12-16T04:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-16T10:53:07.473-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fiction Vs Non-fiction...what to choose?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;Once I was more keen to reading fiction books primarily because the dreams woven within fictions end up in a happy note most of the time. Non-fiction never appealed to me because I thought it futile to read real life agonies documented in a book. I was like &quot;when there are so much pain all around in this real world, why waste time going through the agonies experienced by different people and feel the pain&quot;...rather the non-fiction stories with their melodramatic plot and action sequences and ultimately a happy union made me feel happier, transporting me into a world of Utopia...where every wish is granted, every dream is fulfilled and every desire is met....I was a decade younger when I used to think so silly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;Now all grown up with a mind of my own, not that I didn’t have a mind ten years earlier, but yes, emotional maturity was not there which is required to think in-depth, I have started developing a liking for non-fictions, biographical and auto-biographical writings. The euphoria of reading surreal stories has been replaced now by the empathy and understanding gained out of a real-life experience recorded on paper. It seems each of us lives through a life that is nothing short of a kaleidoscope of happiness &amp;amp; unhappiness, failures and frustrations, wins and losses, fortunes &amp;amp; misfortunes. Each of us has our life affected by the refrains of this kaleidoscope and we live it all, sometimes survive and sometimes give up halfway through. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;One of my college pals couple of years back committed suicide for a reason unknown to us. She left behind two small young daughters. Looking back as I could recall, she was a vivacious girl very much in love with a boy whose photo she once showed to us. Her father died all of a sudden while she was still in college and later I heard that she got the job of her father. After passing out from college I met her once in a metro train on my way back home from the university while I was doing my masters and she was returning from office. She was wearing a saree and I caught a glimpse of the streak of vermillion smearing her head. She was looking happy, at least so I presumed. I wonder what might have transpired within a handful of years that she chose the drastic step of ending her life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;Sitting in the cocoon of comfort of my paternal home, when I was chatting with one of my old college friends with my heart full of excitement for shifting to Bangalore the following month, my friend broke the dreadful news to me. That was first time someone I knew of my age died and that is also through a means like suicide....It is just terrible....the feeling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;As life seems more real now than it was when I was living it with an impressionable mind busy in conjuring up dreams for future, I feel more than inclined to go through non-fictional autobiographies and biographies&amp;nbsp;for life pictured in non-fiction might not take you to a hunky-dory realm of paradise, but it will bring you face to face with what life is all about and how people survive amidst untoward circumstances and live their share of good and bad fortunes boldly with an indomitable spirit. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/6623173226915168447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/6623173226915168447' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/6623173226915168447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/6623173226915168447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2011/12/fiction-vs-non-fictionwhat-to-choose.html' title='Fiction Vs Non-fiction...what to choose?'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-1373406232537801341</id><published>2011-11-16T23:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-18T22:14:47.189-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Keep Dreaming !!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffd966;&quot;&gt;Everyone should dream. Without a dream you wont have anything to look forward to. I know not all dreams come true, but that should not stop you from dreaming. Afterall, dream is what begets passion in us to make an all-out effort to pursue our goals. People put up with hardships and struggles year after year with a smile on face cause they hope that one day their &#39;dreams&#39; would materialize. It&#39;s a dream that gives strength to overcome a crisis.It&#39;s a dream that keeps a person get going amidst devastation. It hurts when dreams are shattered, but it hurts more when you have no dream to hold on to. Dreamless life becomes void, static and monotonous. So keep dreaming !! cause &quot;dreams are necessary to life&quot; as quoted by American author Anais Nin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/1373406232537801341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/1373406232537801341' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/1373406232537801341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/1373406232537801341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2011/11/keep-dreaming.html' title='Keep Dreaming !!'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-1200433610371234683</id><published>2011-11-14T04:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-14T06:11:39.909-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Revolution 2020 by Chetan Bhagat - A Review</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;I have this problem with the books of Chetan Bhagat that when I sit to read his writing, until I reach the end of the book reading, I find no peace.That&#39;s how addictive his writing is. I bought his latest novel &#39;Revolution 2020&#39; from a street vendor. Just when I was in the midst of an interesting chapter, I noticed that around 16 pages from pg 216-232 were missing in my copy. Damn ! I felt like going back to Karamongala to return the book and exchange it with a fresh piece, but we were only about one and half hour away from the movie we were to see that evening. Travelling down to Karamongala meant we would have to miss the movie. Tickets were bought already, but I had no patience to wait until the next day to know what transpired in the novel. So my hubby scoured the cyberspace desperately in search of a pdf version lest I stayed adamant with my demand to get the book exchanged first and made him miss his movie. Thankfully a philanthropist blogger was generous enough to distribute pdf versions of the book on his blog and my husband downloaded it from there, all for my sake I assume :p&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;Based on what&amp;nbsp;apparently seems&amp;nbsp;to be a real life incident, &#39;Revolution 2020&#39; recounts the life story of three friends - Gopal Mishra, Raghav &amp;amp; Aarti. Set against the backdrop of Varanasi, a city that cleanses sins, the novel revolves around their ambition, competitiveness, jealousy, failures and achievements in life. It also broaches a very sensitive topic up for discussion - the desperation among Indian parents for their sons to clear engineering or medical entrance exam and putting pressure on them for repetition in case of failure at first attempt. It&#39;s hard to live a free life being a woman in our country, thanks to the deluge of restrictions imposed on our freedom to movements. But the novel opens my eyes to view the perspective of guys who go through the pain of pressure for clearing JEE or AIEEE at any cost. Based on a period when number of seats in govt Engineering colleges were limited and private technical institutions were not prevalent in India, the novel describes the frustration of its central character Gopal Mishra who for the sake of fulfilling his father&#39;s dream goes all the way from Varanasi to Kota to spend one year taking preparation for JEE and AIEEE.On the other hand, Raghab, the good boy, cleared JEE but instead of choosing IIT as his alma mater goes to BHU for further studies as it will help him fulfill his passion of &#39;journalism&#39;. When asked if being a journalist is his ultimate ambition, why he is wasting precious years studying engineering, he replies &quot;Dad. Why else?&quot; Such is the mindset of most of the Indian parents who think that without an engineering or medical degree, their children&#39;s career will go to waste. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;This desperation to become engineers or doctors breeds jealousy &amp;amp; frustration among those who lag behind in the rat race while their friends race ahead of them&amp;nbsp;clearing the sought-after JEE&amp;nbsp;or AIEEE. This is what forms the core of this novel - how sheer competitiveness and failure in the tests of life take two friends apart, with a fuel adding to the flame is the girl who, both friends are in love with, responds to the proposal of the guy, handsomer of the two with a brighter future. How life with all its challenges change the moral trajectory of people and how an underdog also has the ability to make it big in life with fate standing by him are the questions answered in this novel. A fully engaging book, it will keep you glued until finish. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/1200433610371234683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/1200433610371234683' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/1200433610371234683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/1200433610371234683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2011/11/revolution-2020-by-chetan-bhagat-review.html' title='Revolution 2020 by Chetan Bhagat - A Review'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-422128123131755164</id><published>2011-11-13T01:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-13T10:54:23.913-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rockstar - My Review</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;I cherish a fondness for Ranbir Kapoor ever since I have seen his second release &#39;Bachna Ae Haseeno&#39;(I gave his debut movie &#39;Sawariya&#39; a deliberate miss for the acrid reviews). I simply admire the way he brings forth a character alive by his spontaneous god-gifted &amp;amp; genetic acting ability. In Wake Up Sid, even Kankona Sensharma, who is my favourite because of her natural expression, looks slightly faded in comparison with Ranbir&#39;s full-bodied performance. So I might be quite prejudiced when it comes to writing a review on Ranbir&#39;s film as my eyes remain transfixed on him throughout, everyone else sharing the same screen space looks hardly existent in the shadow of his power-packed deliverance. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;&#39;Rockstar&#39; begins with Ranbir missing from a stage show &amp;amp; his entering the screen struggling with a band of police to wriggle himself free &amp;amp; finally arriving on stage with a guitar in hand. The next moment we are taken through a kaleidoscope of fast-paced flashback glimpses into Ranbir&#39;s life.The film covers the journey of an eccentric man called &#39;Janardhan&#39; from an ordinary boy, passionate about music with dreams of reaching heights just like his idol &quot;Jim Morrison&quot;, to a megastar, riddled with negative controversies &amp;amp; a heap of court cases.The first half of the movie was simply fantastic when Jordan aka Janardhan influenced by the words of his mentor made romantic moves towards the most beautiful girl in the college, Heer (Nargis Fakhri) with a motive to experience &#39;pain&#39; as &#39;pain&#39; motivates one to sing with passion. Their unusual friendship and curious attempts at socially unacceptable things brought them close to each other. While Nargis moved to Prague after marriage, fate &amp;amp; a chain of circumstances transformed Ranbir aka Janardhan into the country&#39;s next big sensation. The second half highlighted more of the candyfloss mushy romance between Ranbir &amp;amp; Nargis than the ups &amp;amp; downs of the rockstar&#39;s life. The movie went overboard with an application of the cliched stereotypical formula of Bollywood showing true love winning over a terminal life-threatening disease. It was just way too much and watered down the effect of the film.However, for a die-hard romantic person comfortable with conventional love stories, the film might do the trick. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;The hypnotic numbers composed by A.R Rahman playing in the background was mesmerizing, interweaving perfectly with the story-telling.I like the way Imtiaz Ali built the story with minute details. The technique of showing a collage of shots passing rapidly on the screen and then painting a picture through subsequent development of the story was undoubtedly commendable and artistic. Shammi Kapoor in the last role of his life as Bismillah Khan was heart-touching.The film even paid a tribute to late Shammiji through the enactment of a one minute song sequence from &#39;Kashmir Ki kali&#39;. Shot across beautiful locations of Prague with the breathtaking bird&#39;s eye view capturing the entire city in a single frame, the cinematography by Anil Mehta was stupendous. Needless to mention, Ranbir outdid his fellow actors in his portrayal of the passionate whimsical somewhat crazy character of &#39;Jordan&#39;, the rockstar. Ethereal Nargis Fakhri was more noticeable for her ravishing glow than acting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;The film with all its flaws in archetype storyline is watchable because of many reasons mentioned above. Undisputably, the movie would have been awesome if the story, woven around Janardhan&#39;s achievement, failure &amp;amp; frustration, would have received the main focus of treatment with the love story complementing it. Sadly, love ostensibly being the main concern overshadowed what the movie was meant to be based on - &quot;Music &amp;amp; Rockstar&quot;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/422128123131755164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/422128123131755164' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/422128123131755164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/422128123131755164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2011/11/rockstar-my-review.html' title='Rockstar - My Review'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-1210597969199506113</id><published>2011-11-08T03:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-20T05:34:30.016-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Encounter with Beading</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1bzBVQgN7APuI8zG7fXfz47OHND59dGVpYs33ZQDK9ngvpby_TewB9hl-CV3FdwDHiwxS0izieU6hdQIg_otVfrALy8XLVAezTibth3SAPpXi4mpH2IXLYwC_bMXE8h8Cs4sz/s1600/DSC_0056.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;424&quot; nda=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1bzBVQgN7APuI8zG7fXfz47OHND59dGVpYs33ZQDK9ngvpby_TewB9hl-CV3FdwDHiwxS0izieU6hdQIg_otVfrALy8XLVAezTibth3SAPpXi4mpH2IXLYwC_bMXE8h8Cs4sz/s640/DSC_0056.JPG&quot; width=&quot;640&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;Beading is one hobby that I have picked up by mere chance. I am hooked on to embroidery since my childhood days. Yes heard right from childhood days, barely from the age of eight. There was one of my aunties who had done a diploma in embroidery and her expertise in sewing would alter any ordinary fabric into a wow marvellous piece of handicraft. It&#39;s unfortunate that she never opted embroidery as her vocation cause I believe she had the talent to become a successful business woman had she started selling her sewn bedclothes and tableclothes. They were simply amazing !!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;So as imitating elders comes naturally to any child, same was with me. Auntie used to visit our house with a pouch containing needles and fabrics and as she would busy herself readily in conversation with my mother, her hands would skillfully continue maneuvering the motifs into beautiful pieces of art, simultaneously. Sitting by her side while mutely observing the dexterity of her hands I would feel an urge swelling inside me to imitate her and swept away by that growing urge, I made repeated pleas to have her teach me some stitches. On my persistence, she showed me how to make certain stitches including chain stiches and buttonholes.That was the beginning. I stitched some wonderful tableclothes, during my school days , which my mother still uses. But after sometime as I started growing up and got myself entangled in what seemed neverending pursuit of education...graduation, postgraduation....my mother gradually stopped buying me threads and fabrics in order to put pressure on me to keep studies as my first priority. Thus embroidery went on the backburner until I got married and returned to Kolkata from Pune, within three months, to join back school where I had been working as an assistant teacher after my postgraduation. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9V6qjPiXCtOppI_sh8ayhvPghmabS-rs9orWnG0wcBYcfpl237YGd20xAZsl3icCrNPI8t6hE0N37-fosZKvH6LdYmHdsnKzV9jng4D_jis4j4ujbpNTNXltQRw_N6u3x2sqe/s1600/DSC_0042.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;424&quot; nda=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9V6qjPiXCtOppI_sh8ayhvPghmabS-rs9orWnG0wcBYcfpl237YGd20xAZsl3icCrNPI8t6hE0N37-fosZKvH6LdYmHdsnKzV9jng4D_jis4j4ujbpNTNXltQRw_N6u3x2sqe/s640/DSC_0042.JPG&quot; width=&quot;640&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;During my short-term absence from work, one or two new teachers were recruited in school. B was one of the newly recruits who joined as a temporary teacher in the same subject as me...English. She is of the same age as mine. Hence just within few days we made a good rapport with one another. I came to know of her brilliance in drawing. As our friendship bloomed and we started visiting each other, one day at her home I discovered a salwar piece she was sewing. The motif was designed so beautifully on the fabric that I thought of picking up my needles again. On my insistence she drew some beautiful motifs on&amp;nbsp;the dupatta of one of&amp;nbsp;my salwaars&amp;nbsp;and thus I reverted to my old hobby once again. My passion for embroidery made me scout through the cyberworld in quest of patterns and stitches unknown to me. I learned a lot about world embroidery and came to know that embroidery involves such a wide gamut of subjects that learning all of them in one life is next to impossible. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNmt5aXxSgMw2z2fLlGujL3sJTiI7XPxurZ2IOg3eslCDJ1dHkZx2twyZr0j5Uyui7zWUW-kE09GeUuT61VOrTt-DBjJiX1U08Q8F1WbVVaw_2q41HeHowNKpgGjCKPVyqsRAp/s1600/necklace2.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;466&quot; ida=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNmt5aXxSgMw2z2fLlGujL3sJTiI7XPxurZ2IOg3eslCDJ1dHkZx2twyZr0j5Uyui7zWUW-kE09GeUuT61VOrTt-DBjJiX1U08Q8F1WbVVaw_2q41HeHowNKpgGjCKPVyqsRAp/s640/necklace2.jpg&quot; width=&quot;640&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;My hunger for learning more and more about embroidery one day brought me vis-a-vis with another exquisite craft...Beading. Now I guess you might have been able to corelate the introductory statement of this article to the rest of my blabbering. One thing leading to another, chance led me to beading. As I&amp;nbsp;moped around different websites featuring the works of a host of terrifically talented people in the art of beading, I&amp;nbsp;deliberated to start beading jewellaries. But unlike embroidery I am only a novice here. I have merely started to walk in the art of beading...and I have a long way to go, a lot of things to learn and enjoy.Beading is strenuous for eyes but the strain seems trivial to the joy that I feel upon completion of a bracelet, earring or necklace created by me.Recently I wove a necklace using Dutch Spiral Stitch that I learnt couple of days back. The snaps are attached with the write-up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/1210597969199506113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/1210597969199506113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/1210597969199506113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/1210597969199506113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2011/11/my-encounter-with-beading.html' title='My Encounter with Beading'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1bzBVQgN7APuI8zG7fXfz47OHND59dGVpYs33ZQDK9ngvpby_TewB9hl-CV3FdwDHiwxS0izieU6hdQIg_otVfrALy8XLVAezTibth3SAPpXi4mpH2IXLYwC_bMXE8h8Cs4sz/s72-c/DSC_0056.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-5377297177772159608</id><published>2011-10-27T12:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-31T05:12:10.457-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ra.One - Review</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #fce5cd;&quot;&gt;We went to watch Ra.One yesterday on Diwali with full-blown expectation that the movie would leave its mark on the history of Bollywood industry for generations to come cause this is the first sci-fi movie made on such huge scale with a whopping budget of 175 crores in Bollywood. Shahrukh also made good marketing endeavour by endorsing various brands to promote his film.Just before the release of the movie, video games of Ra.One flooded the market and thus with the craze set, expectation out of Ra.One was huge. We assumed that it would be another groundbreaking sci-fi film after Robot&amp;nbsp;to break records of all-time Bollywood megahits.In our enthusiasm, we invested in watching the 3D version of the film.That the money spent on the tickets&amp;nbsp;was totally wasted soon dawned on our consciousness just as we started watching the movie. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #fce5cd;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #fce5cd;&quot;&gt;To our disappointment, only 15 minutes after starting the film, it seemed as if the movie was not going to be what we expected. The dialogues were insipid with unsuccesful ticklish efforst made to incite amusement.Right from the beginning as Shahrukh entered the screen in the role of a South Indian scientist Shekhar, who relished noodles with curd and was the creative lead in the game division of a scientific lab, all he did was unnecessarily trying to be funny and look like a joker instead.He was a timid cowardly scientist who with an intent to become hero in his son&#39;s eyes embarked on the creation of an all-powerful invincible wicked anti-hero called Ra.One. To combat Ra.One was created a hero with less power called G.One. We were only few minutes away from intermission when finally G.One and Ra.One came out of the box of video game into reality.The first one hour of the movie was spent on showing Shahrukh trying different ways to impress his son, like dressing up in a tight leather garment in a Michael Jackson style, quoting from the Gita, trying to correct Kareena&#39;s Tamil and ofcourse creating the villain called Ra.One. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #fce5cd;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #fce5cd;&quot;&gt;The second half spilled some power-packed action scenes between Ra.One and G.One with special effects no other hindi movie can boast of.I specially liked the crumbling of Churchgate station of Mumbai into a rubble, following the impact of G.One stopping a spun-out train with his bare hands. But sadly apart from the tumbling down of Churchgate Station, nothing appeared innovative or fresh in ideas. The movie was a sad hotchpotch of threadbare concepts collected from Hollywood and Tollywood.Many scenes and sequences, mannerisms of characters would give you a constant reminder of Matrix, Terminator 2 and recent Tollywood Blockbuster Robot. Rajnikanth in his one minute cameo of Chitti earned an applause, but he too was brought out inanely with his one word dialogue &quot;Chitti, Chitti&quot;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #fce5cd;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #fce5cd;&quot;&gt;Kareena brought some refreshment with her performance in &quot;Chamak Challo&quot; number but Shahrukh as G.One was looking sloppy and horrible shaking a leg, waist and butt to the tune. Imagine Arnold Schwarzenegger dancing the same in Terminator triology...I would faint.Debutant Armaan Verma who played the role of Shahrukh&#39;s son Prateek delivered a commendable performance.Arjun Rampal took the form of Ra.One for an estimated half an hour only, the other half was played by Tom Wu.According to Anubhab Sinha, Ra.One&#39;s director &quot;When we started this film, the idea was can we make a simple film, about a husband, wife and child and then suddenly blow everyone&#39;s mind when they start fighting [...] So there were two films in one: the people who like the action...and those who like a family film.&quot; Anubhab Sinha should have had understood that the&amp;nbsp;audience doesnot expect a family drama out of a sci-fi movie. You cannot put Baghban or Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gam in the same wrapper of Robot. Both fall under different genres and need discrete treatment. Mixing the two is sure going to be a disaster like Ra.One. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/5377297177772159608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/5377297177772159608' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/5377297177772159608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/5377297177772159608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2011/10/raone-review.html' title='Ra.One - Review'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-5311311988147677914</id><published>2011-10-22T12:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-08T04:09:40.102-08:00</updated><title type='text'>8 Kinds of Annoying People</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;In our day to day life we come across so many people with different nature and characteristics, some of whom become our friends instantly right from the moment we shake hands and some of whom remain intriguing and mysterious to us even after years of spending time with them and some of whom we dont gel with at all for they being completely opposite to us in nature and mental wavelength.My fate has brought me in touch with a whole gamut of people from extremely bad and selfish to extremely good and generous and here in this article I would like to talk about 8 kinds of people, among others whom I find completely displeasing to my taste.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;1) &lt;span style=&quot;color: lime;&quot;&gt;&lt;u&gt;Frustrated Obtrusive kind&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;: There is one person whom I reconnected recently in FB after a gap of over a decade.Calling that person &#39;friend&#39; will be an overstatement as I hardly ever had communicated with him. We met in coaching class at ninth standard when I used to shy away from him and his peers because they used to bully and tease me over my nickname. Yes I have an embarrassing nickname given affectionately by one of my aunties during those kuchikoo muchiko session when every baby wrapped up in his/her mother&#39;s lap gets smothered with affection from all.I was no exception either. However, the nickname, usually restricted within family members, caused me pain during my childhood when&amp;nbsp;disclosed to outsiders for there were insensitive children and teenagers who using it as a weapon used to target me for a ridicule and you know children can be quite cruel when it comes to bullying someone. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;Without my knowledge, that embarrassing name got leaked in school and subsequently in coaching classes. Before long, my fellow mates in school and coaching classes started holding me up to ridicule by pronouncing my name in an irritating, ugly fashion. I remember once while returning from coaching class, I bumped into this person concerned and his buddies and they started calling me by my nickname at the top of their voice across the street and mortified in shame and embarrassment, I started running towards my home crying. I was in ninth standard then.&amp;nbsp;I used to hate this person so much that when on the first day of my college I saw him and his buddy hovering infront of&amp;nbsp;our college entrance(dont exactly know why for they didnt study in the same college) and approaching to talk to me, I brushed them aside rudely in feign of total ignorance. After about more than a decade, all of a sudden I got a friendship request from this person on FB and since I have long left all these unpleasant incidents behind me, there was no reason why shouldnot I accept his request. I reasoned that we both were immature and young when such bullying took place, but now all grown up, things could start on a clean slate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;Here I made the blunder. &quot;People dont change&quot;. Recently then I had gone into a severe argument on FB with one or two of my friends over Anna Hazare related issue and over some feminist topics and I fought my friends with full strength in support of my views and they with theirs. This person in concern observed that online exchange of words and arguments between me and my friends and wanted to make his presence in my friend list known to me.He started commenting on my even benign status messages in a provocative tone as if making an attempt to get a reaction from me. I ignored him mostly, but when I updated my status with a quotation, collected from one of the websites,this person stepped his foot forward in initiating an argument with me. Although the status message was at all not argument-worthy and never even in my dreams I did imagine that someone might try to instigate me into fighting over such plain quote like &quot;Happiness and content lie in the mind, not in the material gain or possession.&quot; I got few &quot;likes&quot; on this status and so I was pretty baffled when this person started attacking me saying that I didnt believe in the quotation myself and that my actions proved that and that I was misguiding people. His behaviour confused me and I didnot exactly realize why this person was attacking me personally. &quot;My actions?&quot;....he hardly knows me on a personal level and how could without knowing me and without being in touch for over a decade, he had the audacity to point his finger at my &quot;actions&quot;? My husband told me not to say anything to him saying that this person was yearning for an attention from me and so he was trying to provoke me into a verbal duel.But I had alreday made a reaction by responding to his comments and so there was no stepping back. My slience would be taken for my weakness and he would again try to harrass me over another status update of mine.I argued with him for a while after which I decided to quit cause I started feeling he intentionally was trying to pick a fight. The next day he put a sarcastic status message on his wall targetting me very diplomatically without mentioning my name, but it was plain and clear that the sarcasm in the message was meant for me.He wrote something like &quot;Some people dont know what they are saying, why they are saying and dont believe in the words themselves and keep misleading innocent people.&quot; I preferred to ignore that. But the same day I saw him posting a group snap taken years before infront of the coaching centre when we were all studying in xth std and he blurred my image in that group photo with green sketch pen. It was so obvious that he was again trying to bully me, but all he was causing was &quot;irritation&quot;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;When we were studying in the same coaching centre during ninth and tenth std, he had an affair with one of my school mates which I guess didnot last long. Since I was not in touch with either of them after completing tenth, I dont know exactly what transpired between the two or what happened later in his life that he was cherishing not a very pleasant notion about women. Since he presumed that I am still the weaker kind, he might have thought to vent his frustration with women through me. The moment I put up a status like &quot;Happiness and content lie in the mind, not in the material gain or possession.&quot;, he tried to wreak his vengeance or frustration with women on me.I hate men who try to feel superior suppressing a woman&#39;s voice. He might have suffered some wrongs in his life but that doesnt justify his action of ventillating his frustration on someone he has not met for years. I immediately dropped him off from my friend&#39;s list refusing to be treated like a punch bag. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;2) &lt;span style=&quot;color: lime;&quot;&gt;&lt;u&gt;Dead before death kind&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;: I dont feel any empathy for the people who give up even before the battle is started. In short, people lacking the mental strength to fight back annoys me. I have seen friends and even near and dear ones who are relatively in a much more better condition than many, crying over their lot and indulging themselves in eternal self-pity. They are so self-centred that they refuse to see beyond the narrow walls of their own life and crib and complain how unhappy they are whereas people really in suffering donot have the luxury to ponder and complain about their fate. This &quot;dead before death kind&quot; lacks the fighting spirit and believes that a fairy will appear from nowhere and set everything right. They dont have the strength to fight their own battle and they constantly look at others for support. I know someone who is so timid to confront her own husband that she pushes her underage daughter forward to fight with him on her defense. When asked why she is ruining the innocence of her child by exposing her to the ugly side of life, she answered &quot;Because I cant fight with him.I fear his temper and he shouts a lot.&quot; Okay, so your child can fight her father, but you dont have the guts to confront a short-tempered husband. How silly that sounds. On the other hand, I have seen people who overcome challenging and traumatic situations, which might knock over even an optimist into self-pity, boldly. There is one beautiful girl whose right hand got amputated in an accident at a tender age of 21 years. Many of us including myself would have gone into a phase of perennial depression, facing a trauma like this. She is an architect engineer for whom her right hand was everything, but she refused to give up and when I see her combatting her situation so bravely, I feel so inspired. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;3) &lt;span style=&quot;color: lime;&quot;&gt;&lt;u&gt;Comparison and jealousy&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;: I hate the lot who spend hours comparing themselves with others and on calculation how better or worse their condition is compared to their peers.Out of this constant comparison forms jealousy which sometimes even proves fatal for a relationship or friendship.I had a friend during my childhood to grown up years whom I shared a close bond with, atleast I believed so till I realized that she suffered from a kind of inferiority complex about herself and since I was the weak kind, immature&amp;nbsp;devoid of&amp;nbsp;personality, she used to feel superior by belittling me. When she&amp;nbsp;got higher first division in matriculation exam with just 25 marks short from getting star marks and I barely managed to obtain first division, she started boasting that off, sometimes to the extent of hurting me making&amp;nbsp;comments like &quot;Arrey ami oi college e chance pachchi naa, tui pabi ki kore&quot; (arrey, I am not getting admission in that college, how cud you?) After the results of higher secondary exam were out and I got through with first division in arts stream and she got second division in science stream, she stopped calling me up and visiting my house. So one day on my way to their house, I met her and her mother. Her mother instead of congratulating and boosting up my confidence saying something in praise made a comment &quot;amar meye arts niye porle higher first division jeto.&quot; (If my daughter would have studied with arts, she would have scored higher first division.&quot;) You see if a mother is like this, you cannot expect a better person from her daughter.I remember after I took admission in CU for masters in English and my friend didnt get chance in MSc, her mother stopped talking to me when I used to visit her house.It&#39;s only when my friend&#39;s marriage got fixed that her mother started treating me well into their home. My friend continued her rivalry with me till she got married, and after that I discontinued f&#39;ship with her. Well, I tried many a time to cut loose from her company, but everytime I used to distance myself away, she on some pretext or the other used to call me up or visit my house with a cake or gift to revive the f&#39;ship. I had a problem back then. I couldnot behave rudely to people or say any hurtful words. She kept taking advantage of my weakness and used me to her benefit till she got married.She was one of my childhood friends whom I loved a lot, but jealousy and constant comparison proved detrimental to our f&#39;ship. While I was fine with her achievement and success, she had problem with mine. I didnt attend her nuptial ceremony cause I was invited only the day before her wedding while her marriage was fixed two months earlier and she lived in the same locality as me. She tried to contact me twice or thrice after her marriage, but I didnt respond back cause I&amp;nbsp;realized that it&#39;s better to stay friendless and&amp;nbsp;lonely than keeping a bad friend for company.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;4) &lt;span style=&quot;color: lime;&quot;&gt;&lt;u&gt;I am Best&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;: If inferiority complex is damaging to the growth of one&#39;s personality, same is true for people suffering from superiority complex. People with superiority complex are so self-absorbed that they spend considerable amount of time blowing their own trumpet without waiting for others to&amp;nbsp;sing praises&amp;nbsp;for them. When I used to work in a higher secondary school as an assistant teacher I had one colleague who used to think that she was best at everything, which is a fine thing by the way if one could be best at everything, but wait, let others give compliments to you, otherwise constant self-praise and bragging makes you a very nagging person to others.She was amiable and open-minded by heart and good as a human being, but this tendency of constant self-aggrandizement and self-praise made her unpleasant to everyone. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;5) &lt;span style=&quot;color: lime;&quot;&gt;&lt;u&gt;Fake Personae&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;: I hate fake people.&amp;nbsp;I am sure many of us might have come across this bunch of people who fabricate stories glorifying themselves&amp;nbsp;to substantiate their superiority. Propelled may be by an inferiority complex these people with an intent to show themselves superior or on par with their peers resort to lies, sometimes in a compulsive manner. The problem is that the people who lie compulsively dont realize that the little incongruities in facts and figures expose themselves as liars to others and that just because some people are polite enough not to say something harsh right into your face exposing you, doesnot mean that they are buying your words and cant see through the fabrication.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;6) &lt;span style=&quot;color: lime;&quot;&gt;&lt;u&gt;Hypocrites&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;: There are people whose actions dont match their words and who dont practise what they preach, whose versions and opinions change in next to no time with the change of season and situation. That childhood friend of mine whom I mentioned in the&amp;nbsp;third paragraph used to always taunt me about my brother having passed out from a private engineering college in Bangalore. My brother is 10yrs senior to me and he had gone through a struggling period with regard to landing up with a good job. He is now doing pretty fine careerwise but he once spent time sitting at home unemployed. This friend of mine used to say many hurtful words to me relating to my brother&#39;s unemployment and often used to say that the college my brother passed out from was bad and hence he had problem getting a good job. Well, years later her marriage got fixed with someone who passed out from the same Engineering college my brother got his degree from. You ought to have seen the change in her tone then. She called me up and started saying, &quot;tor dada r college ta oto kharap noi re.amar husband o okhan thekei pass koreche&quot;. (Your brother&#39;s college is not that bad actually, my husband too has passed out from there.) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;7) &lt;span style=&quot;color: lime;&quot;&gt;&lt;u&gt;Abusive people&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;: I notice that among youngsters using the &quot;F&quot; words has become a kind of fad, which is so obvious if you tune in to any reality show involving youngsters and half of the words they say are beeped. I find those people so very annoying who begin a heated argument with an abusive word or sentence.I often see even highly qualified people using dirtiest of slangs to attack an opponent. Hurling abuses to unnerve an opponent is a huge turn-off for it can create rifts in hearts and antagonize people, to such an extent that sometimes the damage caused by reviling and ribaldry doesnot heal at all.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;8) &lt;span style=&quot;color: lime;&quot;&gt;&lt;u&gt;Unsolicited Advisors&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;: When I was working in a school, there were colleagues who presumed that they had the prerogative by virture of their seniority to advise their juniors, not only about professional matters but also about very personal things.They just didnt know when and where to draw the line and some of them were so annoying that they used to make constant intrusion into my personal space by giving me advice on personal matters including children, marriage,clothes and diet. After marriage I put on a considerable weight and I wanted to shed a few kilos. With that goal, I started a diet and tried avoiding rice as best as possible. During recess instead of taking roti or rice with curry, I went for lighter meals like fruit salad or a bowl of vegetables etc. It caught the eyes of my colleagues according to whom heavy lunch consisting of rotis or rice is an ideal meal. So these unsolicited self-acclaimed well-wishers literally started bugging me with questions about my diet making predictions as how this kind of light meal is going to make a long-time ill impact on my health and I would suffer problem during child-birth. Then after the completion of one year of my marriage came the barrage of advices with regard to family planning and how no matter what I should be thinking of taking a child. I never felt such pressure from my own mother and mother in law for conceiving and these people who were nothing more than colleagues to me, who were never to be seen in close vicinity in time of need,&amp;nbsp;pried into my private matters to such a nagging&amp;nbsp;extent that I literally felt &#39;rescued&#39; when I quit the job ultimately. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/5311311988147677914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/5311311988147677914' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/5311311988147677914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/5311311988147677914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2011/10/8-kinds-of-annoying-people.html' title='8 Kinds of Annoying People'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-520006271672409448</id><published>2011-09-30T02:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-30T11:15:54.261-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Madhubala : the Venus of the Indian screen</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;Yesterday someone shared a rare collection of photos of Madhubala on FB. The photos clicked by photographer James Burke were published in Life Magazine of America which also featured unusual photos of actresses like Asha Parekh, Nalini Jaywant and Begum Para. I could not help sharing such exclusive snaps of her in my blog. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu1Lnux7RV4eLjhZk3z90q89H-ATVUXW1lGNRKE0MWQJ-YsTSvFAblj9kp1pWFoA5J52f971abmHYT_pcPud3NNijquESBRIf4nQtNnzfY-KpmLvAu-JRym2Ae8YMuUAPH7_8Q/s1600/madhubala8.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; kca=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu1Lnux7RV4eLjhZk3z90q89H-ATVUXW1lGNRKE0MWQJ-YsTSvFAblj9kp1pWFoA5J52f971abmHYT_pcPud3NNijquESBRIf4nQtNnzfY-KpmLvAu-JRym2Ae8YMuUAPH7_8Q/s320/madhubala8.jpg&quot; 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width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0tjjfE0zsbUcdDT5An3IQxuI5NQqyprGpQd23pwMxt0PYr5vl-t177M8GQCxTvrJLiALQlT_Z1pWaKMEeuTdNBG7n-j859KtEg4aZM37nSBqlbgfU79VfH4TXCKEYDxEAoDA0/s1600/madhubala.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; kca=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0tjjfE0zsbUcdDT5An3IQxuI5NQqyprGpQd23pwMxt0PYr5vl-t177M8GQCxTvrJLiALQlT_Z1pWaKMEeuTdNBG7n-j859KtEg4aZM37nSBqlbgfU79VfH4TXCKEYDxEAoDA0/s320/madhubala.jpg&quot; width=&quot;204&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOm5HjMZSj0K9UfRJXvBNJKDSX-4zF43G30jknHHHOC4SZz_BrPdwpTCiPVLerIuiDsCRYx77gK0pzyvXoMVr6g3zeZgAsjmzW4HgSE1xTSycJgeeolFlRPKDoeEh4D5bArc1a/s1600/Madhubala2.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; kca=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOm5HjMZSj0K9UfRJXvBNJKDSX-4zF43G30jknHHHOC4SZz_BrPdwpTCiPVLerIuiDsCRYx77gK0pzyvXoMVr6g3zeZgAsjmzW4HgSE1xTSycJgeeolFlRPKDoeEh4D5bArc1a/s320/Madhubala2.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPmXGyWJ7yElOuFtE3VAVKWONBM2BFBPqJun5TjnutZ1Km_LuhUF09bvf8Q6RjPABDmcNwRPLJ-EU9ZR3yKDXhYvuKwBk7yOX6nvqWHWFlxiqNTcm6ZIL1pfWfkb62GE71-T7P/s1600/Madhubala6.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; cssfloat: right; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; kca=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPmXGyWJ7yElOuFtE3VAVKWONBM2BFBPqJun5TjnutZ1Km_LuhUF09bvf8Q6RjPABDmcNwRPLJ-EU9ZR3yKDXhYvuKwBk7yOX6nvqWHWFlxiqNTcm6ZIL1pfWfkb62GE71-T7P/s200/Madhubala6.jpg&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;Madhubala looking so ethereal and life-like in the photos just piqued my curiosity further to explore more about this divine beauty. An actress of yesteryear, she was famed for her unparalleled luminous beauty and her swashbuckling performance in movies like Mughal-E-Azam, Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi, Howrah Bridge and Mahal. In her brief span of life she performed in 70 movies some of which were based on choices done arbitrarily to fend for her family members as she was the sole earning member of her family. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;Born on the Valentine day of 1933, she came from a royal lineage of Kabul, Afghanisthan. Mumtaz Jahan Begum Dehlavi was her maiden name before she joined film industry and assumed the name &quot;Madhubala&quot; on the advice of Devika Rani, another well-known actress of that era. Fifth among 11 siblings, she entered films as a child artist at the age of 9. Her first film was Basant (1942) where she acted alongside the then famous actors Mumtaz Shanti and Ulhas. The film acquired whopping success in the box office but she had to wait till 1947 to bag the role of a leading lady. She was only 14 when the producer Kidar Sharma paired her against Raj Kapoor in the movie &quot;Neel Kamal&quot; (1947).The film didnot do well commercially but her impeccable beauty did not go unnoticed. Her first commercially successful movie was Mahal (1949) with Ashok Kumar, which earned her star status overnight. The song &quot;Aayega Aanewala&quot; was a haunting melody that propelled both Madhubala and Lata Mangeshkar rightaway into stardom.Encumbered with the burden of running her family as the only breadwinner she, in her initial years of career, chose movies randomly with the sole purpose of earning money.Financial desperation led her into compromising with the credibility of a serious actress and consequently she belched out a series of flop movies which earned her the sobriquet &quot;Box-Office poison&quot;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKayxUF8XeoMYdnSNS48-XGqllyyU23x1z54UNTpO3zA-vmKfcxwyi8BsS3I94tFMZmi49u2cdGhw0hpH-DudehK7qKpqQmoKPbuwxf0zcTvCiQBAD0u2orFrGYDSpDCEaQf_e/s1600/madhubala4.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; kca=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKayxUF8XeoMYdnSNS48-XGqllyyU23x1z54UNTpO3zA-vmKfcxwyi8BsS3I94tFMZmi49u2cdGhw0hpH-DudehK7qKpqQmoKPbuwxf0zcTvCiQBAD0u2orFrGYDSpDCEaQf_e/s200/madhubala4.jpg&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;However, with her inimitable grace and matchless beauty, she notched a niche as one of the topmost heroines of that era starring opposite to an array of popular heroes of that time including Raj Kapoor, Dev Anand, Dilip Kumar, Ashok Kumar, Shammi Kapoor, Sunil Dutt and Pradip Kumar. She had worked with directors like Mehboob Khan, Guru Dutt, Kamal Amrohi and K. Asif who were notable and venerated in the genre of style and movie-making. Her role as an Anglo-Indian Cabaret dancer in Howrah Bridge, as Renu in Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi, as Anarkali in Mughal E Azam are some of the memorable characters she beautifully essayed, among others. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;True to the words of the soothsayer who predicted that despite attaining lot of success and fame, she would lead an unhappy life and die a premature death, Madhubala had her personal life strewn with frustrations.Madhubala&#39;s father Ataullah Khan had a predominating presence in her life.He was extremely possessive of her and didnot allow her to mingle with people outside shooting schedules. She was not allowed to attend any film premiere or any party involving film promotion and she rarely gave interviews. Hollywood director Frank Capra, mesmerized by her celestial beauty as she was featured in many American magazines including LIFE and Theatre Arts, wanted to meet her during his India visit.But her father turned down the proposal of Frank Capra wanting to discuss a Hollywood opening for Madhubala,thereby nipping her prospective Hollywood career in its bud. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;Madhubala had a longstanding 7 years of courtship with actor Dilip Kumar. They first met each other on the set of Jwar Bhata way back in 1944 when Madhubala was barely 11 years old. But their feelings for each other developed during the shooting of Tarana (1951) when Madhubala expressed her love sending a flower attached with a note through her hairdresser to Dilip Kumar. Unfortunately, following a controversial court case with B.R Chopra during the making of Naya Daur, the two parted ways for good. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSCAn4L0FZMhfhXFVxiVpgGWZQBfZT0wONiJF7vwkm17Q2Bs7AqetwDcLLaH_dpTCeat2MDAMxehlLsHm4rwsJ2iGPAF105jZ63RJmXcKZTnXi4VequDppDn4KqLtv3y1bPEiE/s1600/madhubala9.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; kca=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSCAn4L0FZMhfhXFVxiVpgGWZQBfZT0wONiJF7vwkm17Q2Bs7AqetwDcLLaH_dpTCeat2MDAMxehlLsHm4rwsJ2iGPAF105jZ63RJmXcKZTnXi4VequDppDn4KqLtv3y1bPEiE/s200/madhubala9.jpg&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;However, there is a dichotomy of opinions&amp;nbsp;with regard to&amp;nbsp;the separation of Dilip Kumar and Madhubala. Some say that it was the preponderant influence of Ataullah Khan on Madhubala which forced her distance from Dilip Kumar.Ataullah Khan disapproved of her liaison with Dilip Kumar as he didn&#39;t want her to get married and quit films as his family solely lived on Madhubala&#39;s earnings. During the filming of Naya Daur, the director B.R Chopra wanted to shoot a part of the film in Bhopal and hence he wanted the unit to travel there.Ataullah Khan conceived that as a ploy to help Dilip Kumar romance Madhubala and opposed to it. Eventually, Madhubala like a true obedient daughter quit the film and thereupon B.R Chopra sued Madhubala for not completing the film she accepted advance payment for. The case lasted one year and actor Dilip Kumar testified against Madhubala and her father during the court proceeding. This case badly jeopardized Madhubala&#39;s image and embittered her relationship with Dilip Kumar. But in a recent interview on Madhubala, her younger sister Madhur Bhushan opined that &quot;The reason Madhubala broke up with Dilip Kumar was B R Chopra&#39;s film Naya Daur, not my father.&quot; She said &quot;Chopra&#39;s production filed a case against her, which went on for a year. But this did not spoil their relationship.Dilipsaab told her to forget movies and get married to him. She said she would marry him, provided he apologised to her father. He refused, so Madhubala left him. That one &#39;sorry&#39; could have changed her life. She loved Dilipsaab till the day she died.&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;(If anyone is keen to read the whole interview, here goes the link: &lt;span style=&quot;color: #cc0000;&quot;&gt;http://specials.rediff.com/movies/2008/mar/25sd1.htm&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;Khatija Akbar in her biography about Madhubala wrote &quot;Her father was a stern and dominating personality and Madhubala had been in awe of him all her life. When it came to the crunch, despite the depth of her feelings for Dilip Kumar, she did not have the courage to defy and over-ride her father and marry without his approval. Her happiness hinged on both Dilip Kumar&#39;s love, and her father&#39;s acceptance of it; that kind of emotional dependence is no longer seen or even understood.&quot; Shammi Kapoor believed &quot;&quot;She did not know when to break away. Geeta (Bali, Shammi Kapoor&#39;s wife) too was supporting her entire family, who similarly lived off her, but at one point she decided to leave. She left everything she had with them, broke away and married me. Madhubala could not leave her family.&quot; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;center&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen=&#39;allowfullscreen&#39; webkitallowfullscreen=&#39;webkitallowfullscreen&#39; mozallowfullscreen=&#39;mozallowfullscreen&#39; width=&#39;320&#39; height=&#39;266&#39; src=&#39;https://www.youtube.com/embed/BnjZmHyoiAM?feature=player_embedded&#39; frameborder=&#39;0&#39;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;Madhubala suffered from a serious heart ailment and during those days open heart surgery was not so widely prevalent.She had a hole in heart which was first discovered when she coughed blood during the shooting of Bahut Din Huwe (1954) in Chennai. However, not until 1957 during the shooting of Chalack when she passed out all of a sudden on the set that&amp;nbsp;the seriousness of her disease was detected. Her sister said &quot;She was advised bed rest for three months, but after a month of rest, Madhubala resumed work. Looking at her, one would not say that she was sick. She, herself, was not ready to believe that she was sick.&quot; Her last film was Mughal E Azam. Though some films were released after she became severely ill and after her death, but all of them were shot before she was taken ill and got bed-ridden in 1960. The shooting of Mughal E Azam took place through a long span of 9 years. The&amp;nbsp;director K Asif, unaware of the severity of Madhubala&#39;s disease, slotted&amp;nbsp;arduous shooting hours which proved detrimental to her health. Furthermore Madhubala&#39;s&amp;nbsp;estranged relationship with Dilip Kumar drained her emotionally&amp;nbsp;when she had to perform&amp;nbsp;with him in romantic scenes. Reports say that apart from when dialogues were to be delivered, Dilip Kumar never exchanged a word with her. According to her sister &quot;Madhubala married Kishore Kumar out of stubbornness, and anger towards Dilipsaab.&quot; Khatija Akbar in her biography about Madhubala wrote &quot;Emotional to a fault, guileless in the bargain, she was simply not equipped to deal with the shock of the break-up.&quot; Like a fine actress she artfully hid the pain of her broken heart beneath the veneer of her effervescent smile. Filmfare in 1958 rightly observed: &#39;Her laughter is a becoming quality, not only because she comes to life as it were when she laughs but because a smile is the most charming cloak for a sob... Madhubala has had her share of struggle, suffering, disillusionment and emotional shock but no matter what lies beneath the surface she cloaks it with a graceful smile.&#39; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;After Mughal E Azam, she fell seriously ill. She even went to London for treatment in 1960 but her condition was in an advanced stage and doctors feared that she might not survive a surgery. The doctors announced that she would live more or less for a year only but defying their judgement, she continued to live for 9 years. Over the last few years of her life, she became completely bed bound and couldnot dress up. She died at a tender age of 36. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;Her distracting glamour and infectious smile would always be missed in the movies.That we have never seen her grow old in front of our eyes the way we see other celebrities might be the fact that has etched her presence perennially in our minds. We find her a kind of riddle, a conundrum that is yet to be solved. At the same time her suffering and emotional hardship gnaw at out hearts arousing a wave of sympathy for her. That a coveted beauty like her had to perish at a tender age of mid-30s is a dreadful fact that has made her memory indelible, synonymous with the way we always rue over the untimely demise of Hollywood diva Marilyn Monroe. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d9ead3;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Below is shared the link to the magazine Theatre Arts, 1952 August issue which you would find in the blog of Dr. Surajit Singh. &lt;a href=&quot;http://films.hindi-movies-songs.com/index-books.html&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cc0000;&quot;&gt;http://films.hindi-movies-songs.com/index-books.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cc0000;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Dr. Surajit Singh painstakingly collected not only the 1952 August issue of the magazine but also has shared a song sung by Madhubala in the film Pujari (1946). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Madhubala&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cc0000;&quot;&gt;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Madhubala&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cc0000;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BnjZmHyoiAM&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cc0000;&quot;&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BnjZmHyoiAM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/520006271672409448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/520006271672409448' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/520006271672409448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/520006271672409448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2011/09/madhubala-venus-of-indian-screen.html' title='Madhubala : the Venus of the Indian screen'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu1Lnux7RV4eLjhZk3z90q89H-ATVUXW1lGNRKE0MWQJ-YsTSvFAblj9kp1pWFoA5J52f971abmHYT_pcPud3NNijquESBRIf4nQtNnzfY-KpmLvAu-JRym2Ae8YMuUAPH7_8Q/s72-c/madhubala8.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-5842358540545887578</id><published>2011-09-20T05:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-20T05:33:43.342-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My niece performing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;Oh children grow up so fast. It seems like yesterday only when my brother in law accompanied by my elder brother dropped by my school to pick me up&amp;nbsp;but on being sadly refused permission by the&amp;nbsp;officer-in-charge&amp;nbsp;to even&amp;nbsp;meet me and give the good news firsthand, they returned home&amp;nbsp;while I sulked and kept waiting for the school&amp;nbsp;to end so that I could rush back home as hurriedly as possible. It was an occasion of momentous joy for us. My elder sister had given birth to a doll in a hospital in Howrah, and she was the first birth of the generation succeeding us. Now aged 15,&amp;nbsp;Titir as we lovingly call her is growing up rapidly. Besides being academically sound and the topper in her school DPS Razarhat, she is a good dancer. Here goes some of the videos, capturing her dance performance on Rabindra Jayanti,&amp;nbsp;shared by bro-in-law on You tube:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen=&#39;allowfullscreen&#39; webkitallowfullscreen=&#39;webkitallowfullscreen&#39; mozallowfullscreen=&#39;mozallowfullscreen&#39; width=&#39;320&#39; height=&#39;266&#39; src=&#39;https://www.youtube.com/embed/mMzyQQWfjc8?feature=player_embedded&#39; frameborder=&#39;0&#39;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen=&#39;allowfullscreen&#39; webkitallowfullscreen=&#39;webkitallowfullscreen&#39; mozallowfullscreen=&#39;mozallowfullscreen&#39; width=&#39;320&#39; height=&#39;266&#39; src=&#39;https://www.youtube.com/embed/spzsyHMkKqk?feature=player_embedded&#39; frameborder=&#39;0&#39;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/5842358540545887578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/5842358540545887578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/5842358540545887578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/5842358540545887578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2011/09/my-niece-performing.html' title='My niece performing'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-1179584154170412427</id><published>2011-09-17T02:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T11:21:22.162-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Last Goodbye  to Lynn Gilderdale - Review</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsXQaipIcoBq9BKtJXrYO0cgiCTHX1qFT0THnCaFnlml0EedFeJw7JYG2hsOLVnxBQF-CInVdJB7GBh1HETvHA6Ly9hBQoq5f8Z9B5MSb95dvfh7s7w_-nLklZdEBVHgMgGz-9/s1600/Lynn+Gilderdale.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;195&quot; kca=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsXQaipIcoBq9BKtJXrYO0cgiCTHX1qFT0THnCaFnlml0EedFeJw7JYG2hsOLVnxBQF-CInVdJB7GBh1HETvHA6Ly9hBQoq5f8Z9B5MSb95dvfh7s7w_-nLklZdEBVHgMgGz-9/s320/Lynn+Gilderdale.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f4cccc;&quot;&gt;Myalgic Encephalomyelitis(ME) also known as Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS) is one of the debilitating diseases that has affected reportedly 17 million of people all over the world.Myalgia means muscle pain and encephalomyelitis means inflammation of the brain and spinal cord. The syndrome varies from patient to patient. People with lighter syndrome recover from the illness and lead a normal life, but people with severity of the cases become bed-bound,paraplegic with difficulty in eating and speaking. What triggers the disease is still a mystery. A simple flu or viral fever can leave one stricken with CFS. &quot;One Last Goodbye&quot; authored by Kay Gilderdale gives an account of the horrible life led by her daughter Lynn Gilderdale whose life was mercilessly cut short by this vicious diease.Lynn was barely 14 years old when the disease assailed her body. It was a routined BCG vaccination that triggered the ailment in Lynn. Immediately after the BCG jab, Lynn fell victim to a series of diseases including severe viral fever, tonsilitis, bronchitis which left her totally sapped and drained of all energy. She became completely bed-ridden within 6 months. Since she developed difficulty in &amp;nbsp;swallowing food, she was fed through a nasogastric tube at first which later on was replaced by a Hickman line. Hickman line is a line &quot;permanently inserted into a major artery leading to the heart.&quot; Within a year or so she lost her speech too. In her mother&#39;s words &quot;&quot;the disease that had stolen her life and left her completely bedridden, unable to walk, talk or even swallow.&quot; For 17 long years she suffered the ailment which ravaged her body completely and restricted her life to the four walls of her room. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f4cccc;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f4cccc;&quot;&gt;The ruthless undreamt-of blows came from some medical professionals who, deficient in their knowledge about ME, proclaimed that Lynn was pretentious and merely faking her illness in order to escape from school. Some even implicated that Lynn might have suffered some terrible sexual assault during her childhood at the hands of her own father and so out of paranoia, she started faking her illness which included violent convulsions, partial memory loss, vomiting, fainting frequently, paralysis from chest down etc. I wonder she had had to be an oscar winning actress if the words of the ignorant doctors were taken to be true.Back in 1991, when Lynn fell ill with ME, very few people were actually aware of the existence of ME and its symptoms. Most of the doctors and even best known hospitals, designated to specializing in the treatment of ME, dismissed the disease as something to do with physical illness. They rather treated the patients for psychiatric ailment, thereby worsening and aggravating the condition of the patients further. In Lynn&#39;s case whenever she was hospitalized for better treatment, she came out of the hospital in rather worse state than she went in. Her mother stated that she would regret all through her life for leaving Lynn at the Guy&#39;s Hospital of Uk for two weeks against Lynn&#39;s wish cause she lost her speech completely afterwards. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f4cccc;&quot;&gt;ME patients develop sensitivity to bright light and sound, and Lynn had her room shrouded with closed curtains. Only a bulb fitted to the aquarium, at 3 feet distance from her bed, used to provide the required gleam in her room. Since she was confined to her bedroom, her parents tried their best to offer her comfort bringing a little bit of life that she missed due to the illness, in her bedroom. She loved fishes and the aquarium was laid nearby her bed so that she could observe their activities for day long. She had about 5 or 6 hamsters which were kept in a cage and placed on a table nearby so that she could feed them and cuddle them when felt. She could not take part in socialization or meet people as interaction with people used to leave her totally wiped out and she took several days to recuperate from the exhaustion.Hence her parents whenever there was any get-together or party held at home used to record the event in video recorder and show it to Lynn so that she could witness what all passed in the party. Undeniably, she was blessed with one of the most caring mothers who willingly confined herself within their home because of her daughter. As Lynn waged battle with her illness, Mrs Kay Gilderdale continued her fight in finding out a miraculous remedy to Lynn&#39;s all distress. Unfortunately, ME is a strange disease which affects the neurological functioning of brain making all the actions of our body go haywire and till now, it is not curable. Lynn went through torrents of test which showed no symptoms of abnormality. Her blood was fine, CT-Scan showed her brain was in perfect order and other tests also exhibited no clear sign of any problem. Hence doctors started believing that the problem was in Lynn&#39;s mind. One doctor even commented that Lynn suffered from &quot;Lynn Gilderdale syndrome&quot;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f4cccc;&quot;&gt;Since ME is not very common, an array of misconceptions and prejudices relating to the disease are predominant in the medical world. Sometimes even patients suffering from slight stress and exhaustion are considered as having ME, whereas actual patients suffering from ME show more severe symptoms. Usually, exercise or physical work out is considered beneficial for anyone suffering from physical disability, but patients ill with ME get into a worse state if they work out. Some doctors dont believe that any disease called &#39;ME&#39; even exists and they treat ME patients for mental illness taking every of their discomforting syndrome as mere pretense. What&#39;s worse when Lynn contracted a skin infection called &#39;ringworm&#39; from her cat and developed itchy red sores on different areas of her body, the doctor treating her opined that it was self-inflicted and that Lynn had done this to herself purposely to get &#39;attention&#39;. He even summoned a psychiatrist to tend to Lynn. Her parents had really a tough time convincing the doctors of the actual cause of her infection. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f4cccc;&quot;&gt;Years rolled on with Lynn showing no sign of improvement and slowly her body gave away to a series of other breakdowns - liver dysfunction, heart problems, severe osteoperesis, adrenal failure, thyroid gland dysfunctioning and kidney problems, among other things. 17 years is a precious period of anyone&#39;s life or for any pain to get healed. Lynn and her mother had been fighting against ME together with the hope of Lynn being able to lead a normal life one day once she recovered from the disease. But all pains endured and all efforts undertaken during the long span of 17 years proved futile as Lynn instead of getting better was turning worse. Her suffering slowly forced her to come to a decision of ending her life as death seemed to be the only respite possible from her ugly life. During the last few months of her life, she was suffering from bouts of depression which evermore hardened her determination to end her life and she cajoled and coaxed her mother to assist her in suicide. The last few hours before her death was riddled with tension and anxiety as she plunged into an unconscious state with the morphine overdose and her mother kept awaiting her death with bated breath. The account of that phase was very emotional and touching and I prayed that no mother ever had to go through such agony of seeing her daughter or son die infront of her eyes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f4cccc;&quot;&gt;What could be more cruel than being held responsible for the death of one&#39;s own daughter? As if Lynn&#39;s death alone was not enough to shatter the spirit of Kay Gilderdale that she was accused and imprisoned, under criminal suspicion, of &#39;murdering&#39; her own daughter. The last few chapters describing Kay&#39;s battle against the pointed fingers at her involvement in Lynn&#39;s death was charged with emotions and would&amp;nbsp;wring tears even from the hardened of hearts. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: white;&quot;&gt;Below is shared the link that has excerpts from Lynn&#39;s diary which written few months prior to her death is open only to some select few.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1246053/Lynn-Gilderdales-heartbreaking-online-diary-chronicled-life-suffered-ME.html&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cc0000;&quot;&gt;http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1246053/Lynn-Gilderdales-heartbreaking-online-diary-chronicled-life-suffered-ME.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f4cccc;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/1179584154170412427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/1179584154170412427' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/1179584154170412427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/1179584154170412427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2011/09/mecfs-one-last-goodbye-to-lynn.html' title='One Last Goodbye  to Lynn Gilderdale - Review'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsXQaipIcoBq9BKtJXrYO0cgiCTHX1qFT0THnCaFnlml0EedFeJw7JYG2hsOLVnxBQF-CInVdJB7GBh1HETvHA6Ly9hBQoq5f8Z9B5MSb95dvfh7s7w_-nLklZdEBVHgMgGz-9/s72-c/Lynn+Gilderdale.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-46167269125572222</id><published>2011-09-13T22:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T22:44:47.854-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding Rituals and Customs of Different Countries</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;James Stockdale’s quotation “And we had our own custom, traditions, and proprieties” rightly sets the tune of my article. It is true that we all are bound by a set of traditions, customs and proprieties which are very unique and aboriginal of our own individual culture. However, marriage being one tradition followed by all and sundry across the world irrespective of community, religion, country has rituals and customs varying from country to country and sometimes from one region to another within the same country. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;Some of these rituals are quite bizarre forcing us to think that marriage is more than the commitments, love and friendship. It is a way to embark upon a new life with all the blessings and wishes of family and friends who do everything going out of their way to make the day special for the wedding couple. Without these off-the-wall strange rites the ceremony of marriage won’t be marriage…….an event fraught with amusement and pleasure. It seems incredible that with the fast changing scenario of society and culture, some of the ancient wedding rituals that have been carried over from one generation to the next are still in vogue today. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;Scottish wedding traditions are quite elaborate with a lot of interesting ancient customs all of which are no longer followed in detail. There is an assortment of pre-wedding, during the wedding and post wedding rituals like the feet washing, stag night, blackening of the bride, hand fasting etc. In ‘feet washing’ custom the bride dips her feet in a tumbler full of water with a bunch of her female friends sitting around her to wash her feet. There remains a coin hidden in the water and the one who finds the coin out is believed to be married next year. ‘The Stag Night’ custom is what we call in modern terms ‘bachelor party’. The groom accompanied by his friends celebrates the night usually in a bar drinking to his heart’s content being the target of the good-natured ribaldry. No Scottish wedding is complete without the bagpipers piping in the beginning and at the end of the ceremony. During the marriage ceremony, there is a ritual called ‘hand fasting’ which requires the couple to tie their hands in a cord or ‘tartan cloth’ while they take their marriage vows meaning that from then on they are combined into a single entity. Strangely enough, in some of the provinces of Scotland, there is a pre-wedding ritual called ‘blackening the bride’ where the kitchen refuse like rotten eggs or fishes or stale vegetables are thrown at the bride and then she is ‘paraded round the town mostly in bars along the way.’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;French wedding too is performed in a grand manner where the orange blossoms play a significant role. During the wedding vows, a silk fabric called ‘carre’ is held over the head of the bride and groom to protect them from evil. Then there is a ritual of the bride’s father taking the bride’s shoes off and handing it over to the groom as an indication to ‘pass the authority’ over the bride to the groom. The groom acknowledges the transfer of the authority by gently tapping the head of the bride with the shoe. At the reception small cakes usually brought by the guests are arranged in a mound as high as possible and the bride and groom are to kiss that mound without toppling them over. This custom stands for a life of prosperity. On the wedding night friends of the bride and groom make a loud noise by blowing horns or clanging pots and pans to force the wedding couple come out of their chamber fully dressed to entertain their ‘tormentors’ with foods and drinks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;German wedding incorporates some weird customs one of them being ‘polterabend’ which entails smashing of a pile of dishes by the assembled guests for the bride and groom to clean the mess up. The idea working behind such custom is that the action of cleaning the heap of shattered dishes would prepare the couple for their new lives together. The throwing of rice is an ancient custom of German wedding passing on from one generation to the other. While leaving the church after marriage, the newlyweds are deluged in rice. Each of the rice grain sticking to the hair of the bride is believed to indicate future progeny. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;In Chinese traditions the wedding day is called the ‘groom’s day’’ meaning the groom and his families will have to bear all the expenses associated with marriage. The process of marriage is initiated by three letters. First is a request letter sent by the groom’s family to the bride’s family to confirm the formal arrangement of marriage. Second is the gift letter that mentions the value of each gift sent to the bride’s family from groom’s side and the concluding letter is presented on the day of the wedding. The color red plays an important role in Chinese marriage. Everything starting from envelopes to the wedding dress of the bride is in red. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;India being a multi-lingual and multi-cultural country has people celebrating the occasion following a range of customs differing from one province or community to another. Diversity in its true form exists here. The rituals and rites followed in Bengali wedding are at variance with the ones observed in a Marathi wedding. There is a plethora of wedding rituals performed during the wedding, pre-wedding and after the wedding of a Bengali marriage. Red being the color of fertility and prosperity for Indians, the bride dons the traditional dress ‘saree’ of red or colors having a shade of crimson. The wedding day is preceded by rituals like ‘holud kota’ and ‘dodhi-mongol’. In ‘holud-cota’ ceremony the bride is smeared from top to toe with turmeric paste by the elderly married women. Turmeric is believed to brighten up the bride’s complexion bringing a natural glow to her face. ‘Dadhi mongol’ ceremony takes place at the dawn of the wedding day when married ladies put a pair of red and white bangles on the hands of the bride feeding her curd and rice, the only meal for the day. Both these rituals are performed at the groom’s home too with a slight difference that the groom doesn’t wear the bangles. The main wedding rituals involve a host of customs like ‘mala bodol’, ‘subho-drishti’, ‘saat paak’, ‘sampradan’ etc. The wedding begins with ‘saat-pak’ when the bride seated on a low wooden stool is carried by her brothers or uncles to circumambulate the groom for seven times. After the end of this ritual, the bride and the groom exchange garlands of tuberose thrice followed by ‘subho-drishti’ when the bride and groom steal a romantic glance of each other in front of all the invitees. ‘Sampradan’ is a ‘transfer of authority’ over the bride from her father to the groom. With this ceremony the father of the bride hands over all the responsibilities of his daughter on the shoulders of the groom. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ffe599;&quot;&gt;Regardless of the difference of wedding customs and traditions discussed above, the main purpose of observing all the rituals in a nuptial is common for everyone i.e. to felicitate the couple binding them in an eternal bond of love and commitment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: red;&quot;&gt;Resources:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Brainyquote.com: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/traditions.html&lt;br /&gt;
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http://www.vowsfromtheheartofscotland.com/traditions.htm&lt;br /&gt;
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http://www.muslim-marriage-guide.com/french-wedding-customs.html&lt;br /&gt;
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http://ezinearticles.com/?German-Wedding-Customs&amp;amp;id=1321753&lt;br /&gt;
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http://www.983wedding.com/chinese/&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/46167269125572222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/46167269125572222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/46167269125572222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/46167269125572222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2011/09/wedding-rituals-and-customs-of.html' title='Wedding Rituals and Customs of Different Countries'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-6379057540834973249</id><published>2011-09-12T22:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-12T22:53:40.272-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lance Armstrong: It&#39;s Not About the Bike</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Recently I have finished reading the autobiography of Lance Armstrong, the great cyclist who not only beat testicular cancer, but also has set an example for us that nothing can overpower strong will and determination.&lt;br /&gt;
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The book begins featuring Armstrong as an obstinate go-getter who literally lives on cycling. If Lance sets his mind about something, no obstacles, no impediments can stand in his way. At a very early age of his life, he realizes that unlike others he has an exceptional capability to bear severe pain and injury. His persistence and mental stamina are revealed when Lance survived an almost fatal accident which left him severely wounded. He received multiple stitches on his head and the massive gash on his foot was stitched too. His knee being sprained in the accident was kept in brace. His doctor advised him to take complete rest for three weeks. But Lance was Lance. He cut the stitches on his foot with nail-clipper, removed the brace from his knee and participated in Triathlon competition within 7 days from the accident. Incredibly, he came out third at the competition.&lt;br /&gt;
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Only at the age of 25, Lance was detected with cancer. Normal people facing the similar situation would have broken down in despair, but he combated the disease perseveringly undergoing innumerable sessions of chemo. The strong chemicals in chemo left his body burning in pain. He lost his hair, lost his muscles and appetite. He retched for hours. When normal guys of his age were out there enjoying their lives, he was pinned down on bed to battle with a life threatening disease like cancer. However, his plight could not make him give up hope to survive and race again. With the same fortitude that he showed all through his treatment he waged the battle, this time, to revive his physical strength to compete with others in one of the most gruelling sport events.After recuperating from cancer, he not only won once but seven times in Tour De France, the most challenging race that demands extreme physical and mental endurance. Lance is truly an inspirational figure.&lt;br /&gt;
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The book also captures moments of his relationship with his mother, who conceived him at a very young age. He is very lucky in one way that he has got such a loving devoted mother to stand by his side through thick and thin. Besides his mother, the coterie of his close friends including his coach whom he fondly called his ‘surrogate father’ and his manager supported him immensely during the crisis.&lt;br /&gt;
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The book is a must read for everyone as it teaches us how to conquer the hardships of life through strong resolution and will power. Life is full of challenges but the success of life depends upon how we overcome those challenges and charge forward to achieve our goals. “Make every obstacle an opportunity”……Lance’s mother’s words not only inspired him to give a full-blown fight to the disease, but also will continue to inspire us to look upon obstacles as mere challenges to overcome.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/6379057540834973249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/6379057540834973249' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/6379057540834973249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/6379057540834973249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2011/09/lance-armstrong-its-not-about-bike.html' title='Lance Armstrong: It&#39;s Not About the Bike'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-3028082524672131023</id><published>2011-08-17T06:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-17T13:29:28.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Female Circumcision</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;I was under this delusion that at the onset of 21st Century the condition of women are quite progressive and that we have left behind the barbaric past which subdued women forcing them to follow rituals without any logical explanation, but to my horror I recently discovered the existence of female circumcision widely practised in some parts of the world even today and as per the report of &#39;WHO&#39;, &quot;an estimated 100 to 140 million girls and women worldwide are currently living with the consequences of FGM&quot; (Female Genital Mutilation) carried out on cultural and religious reasons. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span closure_uid_4m8za4=&quot;90&quot; closure_uid_9qx489=&quot;101&quot; style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;I knew about circumcision performed on men where through surgical help the foreskin of a man&#39;s sexual organ is removed to stimulate the pleasure of copulation, but that something like &#39;female circumcision&#39; exists was&amp;nbsp;rankly unknown to me until I read through some books by Jean Sasson based on the lives of Arab women. In few sections of the world, still this barbarization is inflicted on young girls,who have just reached puberty, in the name of religion and tradition. God knows when these people will be enlightened enough to stop exercising such inhuman act on their women. This torturous act entails no medical benefits except an excruciating pain experienced by the victims of this rite. While surfing through the WHO website I came across an information, which also has been reiterated in the book &quot;Daughters of Arabia&quot; by Jean Sasson, regarding FGM. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span closure_uid_31gmym=&quot;91&quot; closure_uid_dtgc0h=&quot;91&quot; style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;The procedures to execute circumcision are extremely painful and they are done by mainly non-medical staff, quacks or even barbars with the help of equipments like scissors, needles, knife etc. A special ceremony is organized to celebrate the occasion&amp;nbsp;when varieties of&amp;nbsp;delicacies are prepared to feast upon and then the girl to be circumcised is taken into a room where&amp;nbsp;other women hold her down while the person&amp;nbsp;appointed to carry out&amp;nbsp;the task&amp;nbsp;sets into work&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The procedures involved with FGM are of four types:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div closure_uid_dtgc0h=&quot;102&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;&quot;1.Clitoridectomy: partial or total removal of the clitoris (a small, sensitive and erectile part of the female genitals) and, in very rare cases, only the prepuce (the fold of skin surrounding the clitoris). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;2.Excision: partial or total removal of the clitoris and the labia minora, with or without excision of the labia majora (the labia are &quot;the lips&quot; that surround the vagina). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;3.Infibulation: narrowing of the vaginal opening through the creation of a covering seal. The seal is formed by cutting and repositioning the inner, or outer, labia, with or without removal of the clitoris. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div closure_uid_sbjc6n=&quot;102&quot;&gt;&lt;span closure_uid_sbjc6n=&quot;101&quot; style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;4.Other: all other harmful procedures to the female genitalia for non-medical purposes, e.g. pricking, piercing, incising, scraping and cauterizing the genital area. &quot; (credited&amp;nbsp;to http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs241/en/) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;The immediate hazard of Female Circumcision involves &quot;severe pain, shock, haemorrhage (bleeding), tetanus or sepsis (bacterial infection), urine retention, open sores in the genital region and injury to nearby genital tissue.&quot; as reported by WHO. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;Permanent or long-term effect incurred by FGM includes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;&quot;recurrent bladder and urinary tract infections; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_18adhx=&quot;109&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;cysts; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_18adhx=&quot;109&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;infertility; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_18adhx=&quot;109&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;an increased risk of childbirth complications and newborn deaths; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_18adhx=&quot;109&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;the need for later surgeries. For example, the FGM procedure that seals or narrows a vaginal opening (type 3 above) needs to be cut open later to allow for sexual intercourse and childbirth. Sometimes it is stitched again several times, including after childbirth, hence the woman goes through repeated opening and closing procedures, further increasing and repeated both immediate and long-term risks.&quot; (credited by http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs241/en/) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span closure_uid_icu9c4=&quot;91&quot; style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;This beastly rite is quite rampant in some parts of Africa, Middle East, Asia and among some immigrant communities of Europe and North America. Though people are at odds with the necessity of the performance of this act, some fanatical and lunatically obsessed people find it righteous to carry on this tradition. Preventive steps to eradicate such an evil practice infringing on the human rights are underway. For more details, go through the following websites:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div closure_uid_4m8za4=&quot;104&quot;&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_nugt2t=&quot;92&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs241/en/&quot;&gt;&lt;span closure_uid_nugt2t=&quot;91&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee;&quot;&gt;http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs241/en/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_nugt2t=&quot;92&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_nugt2t=&quot;92&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1497147/&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f3f3f3;&quot;&gt;http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1497147/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/3028082524672131023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/3028082524672131023' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/3028082524672131023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/3028082524672131023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2011/08/female-circumcision.html' title='Female Circumcision'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-6217357279931932099</id><published>2011-08-05T06:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-05T06:40:18.517-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why women are forbidden to testify in Saudi Court?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_czb9lc=&quot;115&quot;&gt;&lt;span closure_uid_cwq7z3=&quot;90&quot; style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;While reading Princess by Jean Sasson, I came across an interesting piece of information much to my amusement. So I thought to share it with you. The extract below is copied verbatim from the book itself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;WHY WOMEN ARE FORBIDDEN TO TESTIFY IN CRIMINAL PROCEEDINGS IN SAUDI COURT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;&quot;There are four reasons given why women&#39;s testimony is not valid in Saudi court:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ol style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_c23upi=&quot;107&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;Women are much more emotional than men and will, as a result of their emotions, distort their testimony.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li closure_uid_c23upi=&quot;107&quot;&gt;&lt;span closure_uid_c23upi=&quot;106&quot; style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;Women do not participate in public life, so they will not be capable of understanding what they observe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li closure_uid_c23upi=&quot;107&quot;&gt;&lt;span closure_uid_c23upi=&quot;108&quot; style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;Women are dominated completely by men, who by the grace of God are deemed superior; therefore, women will give testimony according to what the last man told them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li closure_uid_c23upi=&quot;107&quot;&gt;&lt;span closure_uid_c23upi=&quot;109&quot; style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;Women are forgetful, and their testimony cannot be considered reliable.&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;span closure_uid_1blljx=&quot;100&quot; style=&quot;color: #b6d7a8;&quot;&gt;I found the fourth reason the most amusing and the most obnoxious. &quot;Women are forgetful&quot; ???? I have seen women having sharp memories than most of the men. I have seen my father forgetting to lock the door before stepping out of home but my mother? She will NEVER miss that. As for me, I never even forget the things said to me. I can clearly recollect each and every happy and sad moments of my life with a photographic memory. So strange that on such baseless and unjustified ground, a country&#39;s law deprives women of their right to testimony !!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/6217357279931932099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/6217357279931932099' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/6217357279931932099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/6217357279931932099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2011/08/why-women-are-forbidden-to-testify-in.html' title='Why women are forbidden to testify in Saudi Court?'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-1235455247158500344</id><published>2011-08-02T02:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-03T02:51:40.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Debu&#39;s B&#39;day 2011</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1zhU_tef586KbfWDMwGPTangi_J7aDWzd8VZc1vad0zpVF71J2jp7j1W3XOiAdejTb5YBGMpZhUg3Mlw7isBX2V9-KhzAog4U-SKntM1KDEmM825jaiR7tasWUs1dcEk7axPn/s1600/DSC_1952.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; cssfloat: right; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;212&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1zhU_tef586KbfWDMwGPTangi_J7aDWzd8VZc1vad0zpVF71J2jp7j1W3XOiAdejTb5YBGMpZhUg3Mlw7isBX2V9-KhzAog4U-SKntM1KDEmM825jaiR7tasWUs1dcEk7axPn/s320/DSC_1952.JPG&quot; t$=&quot;true&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj20I6CCPs1tVERb1MvuoslLQFqxrXI8j1eeWggYvxFsIZ-EwiYBPmivy_15q2sJ4X3h5k4E_1Tn4dasp_Zk1TxPBhvRrjTwez6g5CgXQYoPlfY6c2AwRkdL-gdVRrQmUPoKvTi/s1600/DSC_1947.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;212&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj20I6CCPs1tVERb1MvuoslLQFqxrXI8j1eeWggYvxFsIZ-EwiYBPmivy_15q2sJ4X3h5k4E_1Tn4dasp_Zk1TxPBhvRrjTwez6g5CgXQYoPlfY6c2AwRkdL-gdVRrQmUPoKvTi/s320/DSC_1947.JPG&quot; t$=&quot;true&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4B6zyYKOSRiW-sq_PxZ_o8DBWuC9ZVM3QiHCa41LRvNEwnxZCaGHxaaGO8Rl2kJfRarX3d0gYI8hC-Aq-B4Mjxs6Klq0Ea-HzM0QzA4kaxEx6UVpW3l9cJ0I5YEyJmM3HvWSZ/s1600/DSC_1964.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;212&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4B6zyYKOSRiW-sq_PxZ_o8DBWuC9ZVM3QiHCa41LRvNEwnxZCaGHxaaGO8Rl2kJfRarX3d0gYI8hC-Aq-B4Mjxs6Klq0Ea-HzM0QzA4kaxEx6UVpW3l9cJ0I5YEyJmM3HvWSZ/s320/DSC_1964.JPG&quot; t$=&quot;true&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_tno5i6=&quot;120&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_1l4hyv=&quot;130&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_ums2zy=&quot;158&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span closure_uid_65julv=&quot;110&quot; closure_uid_iyazz5=&quot;378&quot; closure_uid_tno5i6=&quot;268&quot; style=&quot;color: #ea9999;&quot;&gt;Yesterday was Debu&#39;s B&#39;day. Usually every year on his b&#39;day I wish him as soon as the the sound of clock ticking twelve rings in my ear but this year I was so immersed in a novel I am going through currently that I forgot all about his b&#39;day until the next morning when upon opening the facebook page I saw Debsankar&#39;s updates on my wall page with wishes of b&#39;day swarming his wall. He was about to leave for office when this happened. Immediately I gave him all my wishes that he must have been waiting to hear since the night before. Last year we celebrated his b&#39;day at a friend&#39;s place who invited us for their wedding anniversary. So, alongside their cutting the cake for anniversary, Debu also blew candles and cut cake for his b&#39;day at the same ceremony. But, this year I didnt want him to celebrate this occasion somewhere else other than with me at our home. So I prepared cake, chicken curry, chana masala, vermicelli payesh&amp;nbsp;and luchi for the celebration. Nonetheless, Debu with his busy schedule could make time for home only after 8.30p.m and so we celebrated the last three hours of his b&#39;day together with each other in merriment.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_tno5i6=&quot;120&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div closure_uid_tno5i6=&quot;120&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/1235455247158500344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/1235455247158500344' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/1235455247158500344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/1235455247158500344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2011/08/debus-bday-2011.html' title='Debu&#39;s B&#39;day 2011'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1zhU_tef586KbfWDMwGPTangi_J7aDWzd8VZc1vad0zpVF71J2jp7j1W3XOiAdejTb5YBGMpZhUg3Mlw7isBX2V9-KhzAog4U-SKntM1KDEmM825jaiR7tasWUs1dcEk7axPn/s72-c/DSC_1952.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-5897857141231486148</id><published>2011-07-31T12:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-03T04:04:53.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>&quot;Princess&quot; &amp; My Overview</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_v5khyr=&quot;107&quot;&gt;&lt;span closure_uid_ivibhp=&quot;90&quot; style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;I dont know if I should encroach upon any issue belonging to a foreign nation and voice my opinion. But reading through a couple of books on the derogatory condition of women living in Saudi Arabia, my heart seethed with anger at the lowly life imposed upon these hapless women and myself being a woman, I could not restrain my voice upon knowing the suffering of another woman. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span closure_uid_ivibhp=&quot;90&quot; style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;Recently while surfing through an e-library I stumbled upon a book called &quot;Princess&quot; penned by Jean Sasson. Jean Sasson is an American writer a good chunk of whose books revolve round the women of Middle East. Jean stayed in Saudi Arabia for over a decade and this gave her an opportunity to peep into the lives of Saudi women. The one I am going through right now relates the experiences of a Saudi princess &#39;Sultana&#39; who was the youngest of her 11 siblings. She shared her gruesome lifestory with Jean and insisted on her story to be written and made public. She wanted to reveal the painful inner life of Saudi princesses shrouded under the disguise of sparkling jewellaries and high life of the royals.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_v5khyr=&quot;107&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_v5khyr=&quot;107&quot;&gt;&lt;span closure_uid_qrlwi1=&quot;91&quot; style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;The story brought forth the hypocrisy of Saudi men who bound their women by forcing them to follow stringent customs of medieval period while they themselves roamed around freely and easily got away with the commitment of the most forbidding heinous acts of adultery and rape. It is shocking how teenage girls are married to sagging old men fourth times their age and mothers have no say in the marriage of their daughters. How a woman for petty violation of Muslim custom is stoned to death or drowned in the pool by none other than her own father while&amp;nbsp;men go around violating women and their rights as a human being. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;&quot;Princess&quot; by Jean Sasson is a real eye opener to the distressing condition of women born &amp;amp; rotting in Saudi Arabia. I feel that being born as a stray dog would provide one far more better life than the one lived by a woman there. Atleast a street dog has freedom to do what it feels like, but women, considered nothing more than a piece of flesh and machinery for reproduction, have their entire life controlled and maneuvered by the will of the men clan. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div closure_uid_p67ftg=&quot;112&quot; closure_uid_rjtujh=&quot;102&quot; closure_uid_v5khyr=&quot;108&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_v5khyr=&quot;108&quot;&gt;&lt;span closure_uid_qo73av=&quot;91&quot; closure_uid_wne93q=&quot;91&quot; style=&quot;color: #f6b26b;&quot;&gt;The book gave me an insight into the state of women in Saudi society as nothing more than a herd of cattle, ready to be sacrificed any minute for the pleasure of the opponent sex. Sultana through this book has made an appeal to the women ,fortunate to live&amp;nbsp;a life of freedom, for coming together to help uplift the condition of women in Saudi Arabia as the men tied to the barbaric medieval time wont pursue the change for the betterment of the fairer sex. I wish I would know a way to contribute to the cause.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/5897857141231486148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/5897857141231486148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/5897857141231486148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/5897857141231486148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-dont-know-if-i-should-encroach-upon.html' title='&quot;Princess&quot; &amp; My Overview'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-7808126895159736903</id><published>2011-07-27T08:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-28T22:32:53.041-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I too had a love story</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_qpv59r=&quot;97&quot;&gt;&lt;span closure_uid_94a6lc=&quot;90&quot; closure_uid_lg78ed=&quot;90&quot; closure_uid_qpv59r=&quot;123&quot; style=&quot;color: #ea9999; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Recently one of my friends told me about a book called &quot;I too had a love story&quot;. I have read &quot;Love Story&quot; by Erich Sehgal but &quot;I too had a love story&quot; was an unknown name to me. I have never heard or read about the writer. Then I got to know that this is the debut book of Ravinder Singh, a software engineer in Infosys, who has given an account of a sad love story here. Since Erich Sehgal&#39;s &quot;Love Story&quot; ended with the untimely demise of the girl the hero was in love with, I immediately had a hunch that this book by Ravinder Singh too would be sad in undertone for the titles of both the books are quite akin to each other, but I had least idea that the tale told in the story relates Ravinder&#39;s personal experience. Upon my friend&#39;s positive feedback, I downloaded the pdf version and went through it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div closure_uid_el83gx=&quot;102&quot;&gt;&lt;span closure_uid_94a6lc=&quot;90&quot; closure_uid_el83gx=&quot;100&quot; closure_uid_qpv59r=&quot;123&quot; closure_uid_u87dn2=&quot;91&quot; style=&quot;color: #ea9999; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;The love story circling around the two main characters, Ravinder himself and his girlfriend Khushi, whom he met through Shaadi.com, was portrayed beautifully.It was a perfect love affair though an unconventional one, because Ravinder met the girl hardly twice face to face. But physical distance was&amp;nbsp;never a hindrance to their booming affection for each other. Even before meeting&amp;nbsp;one another&amp;nbsp;in person, they fell madly in love and decided to tie the knot. Their&amp;nbsp;frequent communication&amp;nbsp;on phone throughout the day, chatting on net, exchange of mails and snaps&amp;nbsp;contributed&amp;nbsp;to the&amp;nbsp;formation&amp;nbsp;of a beautiful relationship. They both were faithful and committed to each other and I was quite carried away by Ravinder&#39;s honesty and committment to his girlfriend, very unlikely trait to be spotted among guys of today&#39;s generation. Their love story had a slight&amp;nbsp;resemblance with my own, because I too met my hubby through a matrimonial site. My hubby too popped the question even before seeing me in person and we, too hardly met twice or thrice before taking the vow of marriage. Yes, we were glued to each other on phone almost all the time, but since he lived in one city and me in another, the chances of meeting each other were very rare. Perhaps, this sets the trend for modern day love affairs where distance is bridged via technology. Internet and mobile have become an integral part of our life so much so that the thought of living without them seems an impossible phenomenon. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ea9999; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span closure_uid_bfoh6d=&quot;91&quot; closure_uid_cun7p6=&quot;91&quot; closure_uid_gwa3yn=&quot;91&quot; style=&quot;color: #ea9999; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Anyway, coming back to the story, the romance was growing strong between Khushi and Ravinder with the passage of time and both of them got inseparably attached to each other emotionally. Ravinder could not spend a day without talking or chatting with Khushi and same was from her side too. Just when their betrothal date was fixed right on 14th February 2007 (the year I got married too in the month of November and had everything been going perfectly, Ravinder too would have married Khushi in November 2007 only) , Khushi was very happy making preparation for the big event of her life. She was laughing, singing and dancing in happiness for the forthcoming ceremony, but alas ! life is so unpredictable or may be God is so ruthlessly humorous&amp;nbsp;that he strikes the lethal blow when one is gearing up for embracing the utmost happiness.&amp;nbsp;Quite sadistic, huh&amp;nbsp;!!&amp;nbsp;Two days prior to the engagement, Khushi while coming back from office&amp;nbsp;at the crack of dawn&amp;nbsp;(She was doing night shifts for US project) met with an accident which left her mortally wounded. For two weeks she battled with life and&amp;nbsp;eventually succumbed to her injuries. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div closure_uid_94a6lc=&quot;110&quot; closure_uid_qpv59r=&quot;122&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ea9999; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_bfoh6d=&quot;102&quot;&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_e8421l=&quot;92&quot;&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_ahuzlg=&quot;91&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #ea9999; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;span closure_uid_bfoh6d=&quot;92&quot; closure_uid_e8421l=&quot;91&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Life is so very unfair. Unscrupulous dishonest people afflicting pain to others for their own gain never face such fate, but good righteous people incapable of cheating anyone are the ones to suffer such predicament. The last few pages describing the blow of Khushi&#39;s death on Ravinder where he wrote &quot;She died and I survived. I survivded and so I died every day&quot; was so heartbreaking that my eyes welled up in tears. Unfaithful people shifting from one partner to another like the change of weather, exploiting others for their own benefit never receive any punishment and good human beings go through all the trials and tribulations as if God is testing their resilience at every junction of life. Why God doesnot have any fairness in doling out justice? Like Ravinder, I too have lost all the faith in the existence of the Supreme Being. God is nothing but a figment of our imagination fed into us by our family and society since the time we open our eyes. It adds to my wonderment that innumerable wars are fought and riots are agitated in the name of this nonexistent being&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_ahuzlg=&quot;91&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_ahuzlg=&quot;91&quot;&gt;&lt;span closure_uid_ahuzlg=&quot;122&quot; closure_uid_gwa3yn=&quot;103&quot; style=&quot;color: #ea9999; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Ravinder&#39;s splendid depiction of Khushi aroused my curiosity to view her photo but by surfing the net, I could find only Ravinder&#39;s snaps. Unquestionably, Ravinder is a&amp;nbsp;pretty handsome dude but somewhere in his eyes, the pain he suffered is hidden. I went through his facebook fan page and his profile but could not locate any snap of Khushi. I wish alonside the beautiful but heart-wrenching love story, he could have some snaps of Khushi printed in his book. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/7808126895159736903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/7808126895159736903' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/7808126895159736903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/7808126895159736903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2011/07/recently-one-of-my-friends-told-me.html' title='I too had a love story'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31876318.post-9127821110215312549</id><published>2011-07-27T01:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T01:52:51.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Family Reunion in Hyderabad</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_as8l1m=&quot;129&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSEsR4TJ1JK-jc_AsreeQKiEjKbJ-Pselq3brSSKuzWX1d-3BS3JRhjFxIFGxbSz-PLuaVY14t9ud0tlf-yt_IwD_t3yAn4hTETr3OyLtBSYy2f-j86yvNJC8x5wAkS7IiVdRD/s1600/DSC_1869.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSEsR4TJ1JK-jc_AsreeQKiEjKbJ-Pselq3brSSKuzWX1d-3BS3JRhjFxIFGxbSz-PLuaVY14t9ud0tlf-yt_IwD_t3yAn4hTETr3OyLtBSYy2f-j86yvNJC8x5wAkS7IiVdRD/s320/DSC_1869.JPG&quot; t$=&quot;true&quot; width=&quot;212&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span closure_uid_as8l1m=&quot;90&quot; closure_uid_cse2nq=&quot;514&quot; closure_uid_yci0qb=&quot;111&quot; style=&quot;color: #9fc5e8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Went to Hyderabad last weekend to enjoy the family congregation after a long time. Next month my brother in law will be flying back to Norway (this time with his wife) for two years and since the agonizing process of spouse visa is over and Manjira (my sis in law) finally has got the visa in her hand after 8 months, they can happily travel together to Norway now. I can precisely feel the frustration and helplessness Manjira might have gone through for the delay in the visa being issued and all the while she and Debjoy (my bro in law) had to stay apart just owing to this visa problem. So we are all happy that finally the harrowing period of waiting&amp;nbsp;is over and their life&amp;nbsp;is getting&amp;nbsp;back to normal. On this occasion, my parents in law also flew all the way from Kolkata to Hyderabad to meet her two sons. Since it&#39;s been a long while when the two brothers were seen together last in the same place and given the uncertainty of both of their happening to be at the same place, this time my mom in law didnt want to take any chance and wanted to arrange this family get-together before Debjoy flies to Norway and we to Sao Paolo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_cse2nq=&quot;111&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #9fc5e8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #9fc5e8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div closure_uid_cse2nq=&quot;143&quot;&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_qgyi06=&quot;162&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span closure_uid_cse2nq=&quot;523&quot; closure_uid_gj2mtb=&quot;112&quot; closure_uid_yci0qb=&quot;112&quot; style=&quot;color: #9fc5e8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;On the first day of our arrival to Hyderabad, we were dog-tired and reached Debjoy&#39;s house around 9.30 p.m. He brought the famous Hyderabadi biriyani from market and we had an appetizing dinner with biriyani &amp;amp; chicken curry served on our platter. But my digestive system failed to work properly, may be because of the jerking it experienced all through the journey from Bangalore to Hyderabad and throughout the night I tossed and turned on my bed in sheer uneasiness and couldnot sleep properly. Next day morning I took an oath for not to eat anything spicy and to remain on light meal all day long. My mom in law prepared some light homely meals including fish and &#39;sukto&#39; daal (daal cooked with vegetables) and by the evening, I felt pretty sound. We went out for sighseeing around Hyderabad towards the evening and visited Hussain Sagar. There was a statue of lord Buddha built exactly in the middle of the lake and we ferried there to catch an up-close view of the statue. We clicked some nice shots there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_qgyi06=&quot;162&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_qgyi06=&quot;162&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; closure_uid_qgyi06=&quot;535&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHtdblsySvM9UHzktQ3RDiSCKxlaqwzlEwq-8UfB31pzQc06n7sPYxSiftEMnyfB7P4WRcBuu5cS9DGixasrr0Kawwoo57NJz-RROy629B9kCA5axwI-qd3RGvj5nGvwpnPFfR/s1600/DSC_1872.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;cssfloat: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;212&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHtdblsySvM9UHzktQ3RDiSCKxlaqwzlEwq-8UfB31pzQc06n7sPYxSiftEMnyfB7P4WRcBuu5cS9DGixasrr0Kawwoo57NJz-RROy629B9kCA5axwI-qd3RGvj5nGvwpnPFfR/s320/DSC_1872.JPG&quot; t$=&quot;true&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_qgyi06=&quot;162&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_cse2nq=&quot;112&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_cse2nq=&quot;112&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-EU3L5ikyxXYtVDpgTjmLuDpRTL7ogveyWJsgVasF_c0_wumtltF-QYjDh5TQE2xV3tO-ugKzgo2L0F8OotXYiiG16AHu6tohwS406-Dp7TRV28Ve2v9pwXhcxq3bmT9FwCvn/s1600/DSC_1867.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;209&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-EU3L5ikyxXYtVDpgTjmLuDpRTL7ogveyWJsgVasF_c0_wumtltF-QYjDh5TQE2xV3tO-ugKzgo2L0F8OotXYiiG16AHu6tohwS406-Dp7TRV28Ve2v9pwXhcxq3bmT9FwCvn/s320/DSC_1867.JPG&quot; t$=&quot;true&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisdA2WTepJx-GdSAOQxsdjHyF9V7wfUMvaTRuEQDjnXTaxvc_vwbThzGNvFEtbiDZkN0umMYyKhqvEyB_mYStW6cn3DpFkY2zCouqNNGrbwJs5iKn5fTsvuSyd8hRFkT2Uv4al/s1600/DSC_1875.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;209&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisdA2WTepJx-GdSAOQxsdjHyF9V7wfUMvaTRuEQDjnXTaxvc_vwbThzGNvFEtbiDZkN0umMYyKhqvEyB_mYStW6cn3DpFkY2zCouqNNGrbwJs5iKn5fTsvuSyd8hRFkT2Uv4al/s320/DSC_1875.JPG&quot; t$=&quot;true&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_cse2nq=&quot;112&quot;&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_qgyi06=&quot;405&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span closure_uid_as8l1m=&quot;130&quot; closure_uid_cse2nq=&quot;524&quot; closure_uid_gj2mtb=&quot;111&quot; style=&quot;color: #9fc5e8;&quot;&gt;We spent some 30 minutes there when looking at the overcast sky, I felt a presentiment of a torrential downpour and told others to take a ferry back to the Eat Street. Just as we boarded the ferry, rain started pouring like cats and dogs and we could see people rushing towards the dock to get into a ferry, but as the number of passengers a ferry could load was limited, the late-comers had to wait for the next ferry amid the torrential rainfall. Apart from the statue, there was no establishment holding a roof and hence the passengers waiting for the ferry had no choice other than getting drenched. Fortunately, we were inside the ferry and&amp;nbsp;on our way back to the Eat Street.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_cse2nq=&quot;513&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #9fc5e8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #9fc5e8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #9fc5e8;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em closure_uid_kf9rsa=&quot;111&quot;&gt;Overlooking the Hussain Sagar, Eat Street is a popular hangout in Hyderabad for weekend revellers. Undoubtedly spending time there with friends will add to a marvellous experience. By the time we returned to Eat Street, I was feeling mighty hungry and so therefrom we headed straight towards City Centre where in a restaurant we planned to take our dinner. Debjoy took us to a nice Chinese restaurant at City Centre where we ordered items like Sapo Chicken, Crab fried rice, American Corn fried rice and Roasted chicen in soya sauce.The food was awesome in taste esp Sapo Chicken was mouthwatering. After the dinner, we returned to Debjoy&#39;s house and engaged in an exhilarating session of adda. Next day being Monday was the day we were supposed to return and though I wanted to extend our stay by one day, Debu could not do so as his hands are tied with office work. So we came back to Bangalore on Monday night.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/feeds/9127821110215312549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/31876318/9127821110215312549' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/9127821110215312549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31876318/posts/default/9127821110215312549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gomratherium.blogspot.com/2011/07/family-reunion-in-hyderabad.html' title='Family Reunion in Hyderabad'/><author><name>Ashmita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06813805601079200282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSEsR4TJ1JK-jc_AsreeQKiEjKbJ-Pselq3brSSKuzWX1d-3BS3JRhjFxIFGxbSz-PLuaVY14t9ud0tlf-yt_IwD_t3yAn4hTETr3OyLtBSYy2f-j86yvNJC8x5wAkS7IiVdRD/s72-c/DSC_1869.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>