<?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: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-33956991</id><updated>2012-02-10T03:33:51.860+09:00</updated><title type='text'>My memoirs.. :)</title><subtitle type='html'>The beauty of life lies in not the materialistic things...but in the soulful relationships we have throughout our lives...people who give meaning to our lives...being there for us...not only when we need them...but most importantly...when we don't need them..!! :)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Priyanka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16868317347352128005</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SRvY6FwkTBI/AAAAAAAAACc/fbSHsx9Rlh8/S220/P1010003.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33956991.post-5595030368569567442</id><published>2010-09-04T23:42:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2010-09-04T23:43:31.736+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Shenanigans</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330099;"&gt;Friday morning in the Chaks’ household:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330099;"&gt;8:30 a.m.: Mr. Chaks: Slow down girl, stand properly for your bath..baby..don’t let the water out.....(sigh)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330099;"&gt;9:30 a.m.: Mr. Chaks (while baby finds out that food flies better than an aeroplane): You have to eat your breakfast else we won’t take you out today evening. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330099;"&gt;                   To Mrs Chaks (in a growl): She’s not eating.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330099;"&gt;                   Mrs Chaks: It’s weekend, your turn to feed her breakfast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330099;"&gt;                   Mr. Chaks: Humph!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330099;"&gt;10:30 a.m.-1:00 p.m: Mr. Chaks (after baby has coloured the walls with different crayons, tried to jump from the dining table, picked out her dad’s razor to give herself a shave, etc etc etc): I haven’t had a smoke since morning...how do I keep up with her shenanigans....why can’t she behave herself?? What is all this?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330099;"&gt;                   Grandma Mrs. Chaks(very calmly): They are genes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33956991-5595030368569567442?l=pankha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/feeds/5595030368569567442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33956991&amp;postID=5595030368569567442' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/5595030368569567442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/5595030368569567442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/2010/09/shenanigans.html' title='Shenanigans'/><author><name>Priyanka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16868317347352128005</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SRvY6FwkTBI/AAAAAAAAACc/fbSHsx9Rlh8/S220/P1010003.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33956991.post-5838103135109337834</id><published>2009-01-02T23:43:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T02:38:39.520+09:00</updated><title type='text'>The Night before Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SV42GOsxU6I/AAAAAAAAADc/OLQ5-EQqCzk/s1600-h/the-night-before-christmas_src_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 169px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SV42GOsxU6I/AAAAAAAAADc/OLQ5-EQqCzk/s200/the-night-before-christmas_src_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286722493232534434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);   font-family:arial;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Snow fell softly, strains of 'Silent Night' emanated from the radio, big red stockings hung at the fireplace, a beautifully decorated Christmas tree, its star shining brightly, stood proudly near the window; all was calm and quiet, when suddenly..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;"CRASH… owwwww… BOOM… BANG.. owwwwww!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;And Tom, with his tail in the mouse trap, chased Jerry, from the pantry into the living room.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;"Hilarious!! Ho, ho, ho!!" laughed out the roly-poly old man, watching his favorite show for the umpteenth time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;"Haven't you left yet?" his wife chided.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;"I'm going, I'm going dear. There's still time. I wish I had a nice, quiet night before Christmas", Santa sighed, as he stepped into his sleigh and headed off into the night sky.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:Verdana;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;p  style="text-align: justify; line-height: 1.65em; font-size:1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33956991-5838103135109337834?l=pankha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/feeds/5838103135109337834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33956991&amp;postID=5838103135109337834' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/5838103135109337834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/5838103135109337834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/2009/01/night-before-christmas.html' title='The Night before Christmas'/><author><name>Priyanka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16868317347352128005</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SRvY6FwkTBI/AAAAAAAAACc/fbSHsx9Rlh8/S220/P1010003.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SV42GOsxU6I/AAAAAAAAADc/OLQ5-EQqCzk/s72-c/the-night-before-christmas_src_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33956991.post-2917395592173266700</id><published>2008-07-04T18:49:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T18:57:06.389+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Morning..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SG3z4-erKiI/AAAAAAAAACQ/dYi8AHL6uwA/s1600-h/P1010017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219095703362152994" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SG3z4-erKiI/AAAAAAAAACQ/dYi8AHL6uwA/s320/P1010017.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"&gt;Aveek felt numb. He felt a blinding light pressing on his eyelids. He was standing at the pearly gates. He had not survived the night on the frozen mountainside, after he got separated from his team. He could feel the angels near him, engulfing him in warm breath and thought, 'Do angels breathe?' He felt them licking his face. 'Hang on!', he thought, 'angels don't lick faces.' He slowly opened his eyes and was dazzled by the light. Slowly, as his eyes adjusted, he could make out a shaggy head, with drooping ears. Slowly, Jackie came into view. His dog had saved him, and he realized that the blinding light was the morning sun blazing down on him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33956991-2917395592173266700?l=pankha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/feeds/2917395592173266700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33956991&amp;postID=2917395592173266700' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/2917395592173266700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/2917395592173266700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/2008/07/morning.html' title='Morning..'/><author><name>Priyanka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16868317347352128005</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SRvY6FwkTBI/AAAAAAAAACc/fbSHsx9Rlh8/S220/P1010003.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SG3z4-erKiI/AAAAAAAAACQ/dYi8AHL6uwA/s72-c/P1010017.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33956991.post-299824722406312917</id><published>2008-07-04T18:46:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T20:33:39.873+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Pssst..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.positiveparenting.tv/psst.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.positiveparenting.tv/psst.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663333;"&gt;"Psst..psst..!! Anil..psst.." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663333;"&gt;"Whaaaaat??" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663333;"&gt;"We'll meet after class, and decide.." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663333;"&gt;"Shh..Rishi sir'll hear.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663333;"&gt;"Psst.. Sahil please pass this note to Anil." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663333;"&gt;"Marwayega kya Nitin!!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663333;"&gt;"Sir's not looking, pass kar de." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663333;"&gt;Rishi was not oblivious to what was going on behind his back, but he tried not to react. He chuckled to himself. He was remembering his schooldays when he and his friends used to pass notes in class and whisper endlessly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663333;"&gt;But this was military school. Discipline had to be maintained. With a heavy sigh, he turned from the blackboard and said, "Sahil, Anil, Nitin! Out of the class, right now and three rounds of the field." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663333;"&gt;Sahil gave Nitin a dirty look and said, "Ab kar psst, psst.. Idiot..!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33956991-299824722406312917?l=pankha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/feeds/299824722406312917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33956991&amp;postID=299824722406312917' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/299824722406312917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/299824722406312917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/2008/07/pssst.html' title='Pssst..'/><author><name>Priyanka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16868317347352128005</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SRvY6FwkTBI/AAAAAAAAACc/fbSHsx9Rlh8/S220/P1010003.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33956991.post-3112613956061915744</id><published>2008-07-04T18:43:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T20:35:39.423+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Nature's Song..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://coastercreationsinc.com/shop/images/Natures%20Song.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://coastercreationsinc.com/shop/images/Natures%20Song.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;A low-pitch of the north wind and,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;a falsetto from down under,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;a vibrato from the clouds, and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;a melisma from thunder. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;Swishing of the trees, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;as if cords being strummed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;Crashing of the waves, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;as if bongos being drummed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;All together it sounds as,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;a song from the heavens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;in midst of it, there's the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;cappella of the ravens. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;I stand on the porch,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;listening to my favourite song.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;Nature sings its opera,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;making me sing along.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33956991-3112613956061915744?l=pankha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/feeds/3112613956061915744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33956991&amp;postID=3112613956061915744' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/3112613956061915744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/3112613956061915744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/2008/07/natures-song.html' title='Nature&apos;s Song..'/><author><name>Priyanka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16868317347352128005</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SRvY6FwkTBI/AAAAAAAAACc/fbSHsx9Rlh8/S220/P1010003.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33956991.post-4507659119968264082</id><published>2008-07-04T18:39:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T20:38:21.627+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Clash..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://leafandlime.hobix.com/pic/clash.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://leafandlime.hobix.com/pic/clash.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Perseus reached the island of Medusa. There lying around were the statues of innumerable men, turned into stone. Perseus knew he had to be careful not to look at Medusa directly, else he would also be turned to stone. He constantly kept looking in his highly-polished shield, for a sign of her. Suddenly, there was a high-pitched scream….&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Shobhu, the director shouted "CUT!! This is ridiculous. Som, can't you look where you are stepping. Javed is a human being, not a statue. We have to finish this by tomorrow, and we haven't even proceeded to Act 2. Gear up guys, come on..PLEASE…"To himself, he said, "This is not 'Clash of the Titans', its clash of the morons."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33956991-4507659119968264082?l=pankha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/feeds/4507659119968264082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33956991&amp;postID=4507659119968264082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/4507659119968264082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/4507659119968264082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/2008/07/clash.html' title='Clash..'/><author><name>Priyanka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16868317347352128005</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SRvY6FwkTBI/AAAAAAAAACc/fbSHsx9Rlh8/S220/P1010003.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33956991.post-2959048378417873858</id><published>2008-02-06T16:05:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T14:04:01.641+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Sugary sweet Innocence..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SBVapg5SPWI/AAAAAAAAABo/jXagItlf8Ik/s1600-h/sugar%2520v3%2520small.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194157414493076834" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="227" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SBVapg5SPWI/AAAAAAAAABo/jXagItlf8Ik/s320/sugar%2520v3%2520small.jpg" width="301" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc6600;"&gt;“Daniel…Sara.. Come inside!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sound of two pairs of pattering feet and then Michelle felt a great weight collide with her. She smiled and looked down at her two angels, Daniel, aged three and Sara, aged two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Mom, what are you doing?”, asked Daniel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I am making pancakes for both of you, honey.”, Michelle replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sara was looking at the preparation in wonder. Michelle asked her, “You want to learn how to make them, sugar? See, Danny will help us. Won’t you honey?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes mom”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We first mix the flour with sugar. Now Danny will put sugar in the mixing bowl.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“How can I do that mommy? She’s too big for the mixing bowl.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33956991-2959048378417873858?l=pankha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/feeds/2959048378417873858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33956991&amp;postID=2959048378417873858' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/2959048378417873858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/2959048378417873858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/2008/02/sugary-sweet-innocence.html' title='Sugary sweet Innocence..'/><author><name>Priyanka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16868317347352128005</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SRvY6FwkTBI/AAAAAAAAACc/fbSHsx9Rlh8/S220/P1010003.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SBVapg5SPWI/AAAAAAAAABo/jXagItlf8Ik/s72-c/sugar%2520v3%2520small.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33956991.post-8489013380455099690</id><published>2008-01-17T20:02:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T20:18:09.213+09:00</updated><title type='text'>I told you so...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/R485AUpDaBI/AAAAAAAAABg/TYTd3WoiOSw/s1600-h/I+told+u+so[1].JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156402776066189330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/R485AUpDaBI/AAAAAAAAABg/TYTd3WoiOSw/s320/I%2Btold%2Bu%2Bso%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;"&gt;A loud explosion! Pungent, choking smoke filled the room. She had already started ranting about the experiment gone horribly wrong. "I told you not to mix the bullfrog horn before the potion turned lilac, but you never listen. Now look what has happened. I told you so. What are we going to tell our parents? You'll never learn, even though I keep telling you how to do it?......". Her voice faded slowly and he regained consciousness. He knew she got hysterical at the slightest disorder and wanted to console her. He was coughing badly but still groped around for her. His hand struck hers and pulled her. She was inert. No heartbeat. He willed her to speak, to say "I told you so..".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33956991-8489013380455099690?l=pankha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/feeds/8489013380455099690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33956991&amp;postID=8489013380455099690' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/8489013380455099690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/8489013380455099690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-told-you-so.html' title='I told you so...'/><author><name>Priyanka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16868317347352128005</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SRvY6FwkTBI/AAAAAAAAACc/fbSHsx9Rlh8/S220/P1010003.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/R485AUpDaBI/AAAAAAAAABg/TYTd3WoiOSw/s72-c/I%2Btold%2Bu%2Bso%5B1%5D.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33956991.post-8720743394274512268</id><published>2008-01-16T21:26:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T20:19:09.996+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Smile</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/R434Z0pDaAI/AAAAAAAAABY/-xKsBcgHtXQ/s1600-h/smile%20cat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156050270920337410" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/R434Z0pDaAI/AAAAAAAAABY/-xKsBcgHtXQ/s320/smile%2520cat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663300;"&gt;He felt someone's eyes on him. He looked up and saw a girl, dressed in a full length cocktail dress, looking at him, and, he couldn't believe his eyes, smiling at him. At that time she looked as the most beautiful girl in the room. She went on smiling at him. He went up to her and said, "Hello". The girl looked at him, smiled in a suggestive way and said, "Hello". He was pleased. He continued, "I am Jack. Can I buy you a drink?" She said, "Sure, but before that I wanted to ask you if you could introduce me to your absolutely handsome friend, sitting at the bar?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33956991-8720743394274512268?l=pankha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/feeds/8720743394274512268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33956991&amp;postID=8720743394274512268' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/8720743394274512268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/8720743394274512268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/2008/01/he-felt-someones-eyes-on-him.html' title='Smile'/><author><name>Priyanka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16868317347352128005</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SRvY6FwkTBI/AAAAAAAAACc/fbSHsx9Rlh8/S220/P1010003.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/R434Z0pDaAI/AAAAAAAAABY/-xKsBcgHtXQ/s72-c/smile%2520cat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33956991.post-6126312780960406930</id><published>2008-01-16T21:02:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T21:12:11.317+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Body</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/R430CUpDZ_I/AAAAAAAAABQ/7FkqZ6UWk5M/s1600-h/100_libra.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156045469146900466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/R430CUpDZ_I/AAAAAAAAABQ/7FkqZ6UWk5M/s320/100_libra.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"&gt;"What...??", Neha thought, "not again..!!" And finally shouted at her mom, "I can't go through another humiliation. Please mom, why don't you people leave me alone? Please stop bothering about my marriage. It just won't happen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she stormed out of the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She sat on her bed, hugging her pillow, and reflecting back on the past two years of the melodrama going on in the family. She was 33 years old, not beautiful but attractive with good features, had a doctorate in English, was earning well as a lecturer at the local university, had a very engaging and caring nature, and always had a smile on her face, but the only obstacle in her marriage was her body. She was obese. Now that she thought of the past two years, the ten-odd guys she had met, had all rejected her because of her body. And she was feeling pretty humiliated by now, and when she heard of the eleventh guy coming to visit her the next day, she thought that she just couldn't take another rejection. She decided to do something about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She went to her mother and said, "Mom, I want to talk to this Mr. Mayank, who is coming to meet me tomorrow, right now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her mother was surprised, "But why beta?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neha was exasperated, her nerves stretched to breaking-point. Controlling her anger, she said, "Please mother, you won't understand. Now will you please give me his number.?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her mother was stumped, but nevertheless she gave her Mayank's office number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neha called him at his office. The phone rang twice before being picked up by a gruff-voiced man. She asked tentatively, "Am I speaking to Mr. Mayank?" He replied politely, "Yes, may I know who is this?" She said, "Yes, I am Neha. You are supposedly coming to our place with a marriage proposal for me tomorrow." He said, "Oh yes, but-" She cut him in mid-sentence, "Please listen to me. Please don't take me otherwise, but I don't want you to visit us with this marriage proposal. You must've seen my photograph." He said, "Yes, I have, but-" She again interrupted him, "So you know exactly how I look. In fact I don't understand why you agreed to come when you know how I look. The same scene will be repeated again tomorrow, you'll reject me after seeing me, and then make up some excuse, and I'll have to face another humiliation and my parents have to face another disappointment regarding my marriage. So please spare us." And she slammed the phone down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was pretty sure, Mayank would not come and had not bothered to dress up at all. So when the door bell rang the next evening, she was surprised to hear her father welcoming Mayank in. She was amazed to hear Mayank say, "I want to meet Neha right now." She was pretty angry at him that he had not paid any heed to her phone call. She stormed into the living room, ready to give him a piece of her mind. But words failed her. There was Mayank, handsome, lean and absolutely fabulous. His photographer hadn't done justice to him. Her anxiety increased, thinking that he'll totally reject her. She started to say something but Mayank spoke before she could get a word out. "I came here today because I wanted to meet you. I want to marry you." Neha was stunned. Was she hearing him correctly? Even her parents were surprised on hearing this. Mayank continued, "I saw your phoograph, and the first thing that struck me was the honesty and dignity in your eyes and on your face. I want a wife, not a model. I always wanted my wife to be a dignified lady, who is honest with herself and the world. I wanted her to be caring, loving and who had the guts to face the truth about anything in this world. And I found all those qualities in you. After you rang off yesterday, I sat and thought about everything you said, and I decided that you are the one I want to marry, 'cos you are honest with yourself, and you were being honest with me. What does it matter if you are a few kilos over the ideal weight? It is just a body. One day it will perish, but what you have achieved in life, how you have made others happy, will always be cherished and you will always be loved for that, not your&lt;br /&gt;body.You'll always look beautiful to me. So please marry me, else I'll keep calling at your doorstep everyday of my life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tears were streaming down her face. She realised that whatever Mayank said was from straight from the heart. He really wanted to marry her for the person she was, not for how she looked physically. She was overwhelmed and looked at her parents. They could not believe this was happening. They were so happy. And finally when she looked at Mayank, she knew that she would never regret marrying him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The marriage took place 3 months later. And the couple looked beautiful and happy, and everybody was amazed at the change in Neha. She was the same as before, physically, but Mayank's love and support made her the most beautiful woman around. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33956991-6126312780960406930?l=pankha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/feeds/6126312780960406930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33956991&amp;postID=6126312780960406930' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/6126312780960406930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/6126312780960406930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/2008/01/body.html' title='Body'/><author><name>Priyanka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16868317347352128005</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SRvY6FwkTBI/AAAAAAAAACc/fbSHsx9Rlh8/S220/P1010003.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/R430CUpDZ_I/AAAAAAAAABQ/7FkqZ6UWk5M/s72-c/100_libra.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33956991.post-4435532132995002930</id><published>2007-03-17T14:17:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-03-17T14:26:42.953+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Relationships</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#339999;"&gt;Relationship is a fragile thing. Fragile, yet strong in a lot many ways. Demanding, yet giving. Fraught with tensions sometimes, yet the love is always there. In these busy times people do not have time for relationships. The world is ever changing. Times are changing, and along with it, as it is said, people are changing. A relationship is based on mutual trust, understanding, the basic nature of a person and how communicative both the persons are. Of course love is a factor, but unconditional love is a product of mutual respect, understanding and trust.&lt;br /&gt;Relationships are meant to be treasured, cherished and kept forever. But people tend to forget that they have to keep working on it to keep it going. Be it the relationship between a parent and a child, or between siblings, or friends, or a husband-wife relationship, it can work only when both the parties understand that they have to be patient with each other. Both have to understand the basic nature of the other person. No two persons are the same. Everyone has different needs, different view points and different expectations. Some people complain that they cannot understand what is wrong in their relationship although they enjoy the same things and have the same outlook on life. And then there are people who are enjoying a healthy relationship even though they are absolutely different in natures. It all boils down to the fact that you should have your priorities set straight and should understand your partner.&lt;br /&gt;Love automatically grows if there’s enough respect, understanding and good communication between the partners. If both understand and do not have ego clashes then the relationship is strong and ever lasting. Self-pride should never interfere in the relationship. Egos should be kept at bay without forgetting the self-respect factor. Be proud of your partner, be communicative, help them in understanding you and understand them and above all love them unconditionally. Be assured, you’ll have a relationship to be proud of. So enjoy your relationships. They are a beautiful gift from God. Life is all about love and relationships in the long run.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33956991-4435532132995002930?l=pankha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/feeds/4435532132995002930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33956991&amp;postID=4435532132995002930' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/4435532132995002930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/4435532132995002930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/2007/03/relationships.html' title='Relationships'/><author><name>Priyanka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16868317347352128005</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SRvY6FwkTBI/AAAAAAAAACc/fbSHsx9Rlh8/S220/P1010003.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33956991.post-115755959761773787</id><published>2006-09-07T01:15:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T01:19:57.636+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Thinking of you....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Every morning as I gaze at the sky blue,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I find myself just thinking about you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I look at the flowers topped with dew,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I find myself just thinking about you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;When I'm down or just feeling a bit blue,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I find myself just thinking about you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;When I'm alone, or with people few,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I find myself just thinking about you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;When I'm busy with the everyday things I do,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I find myself just thinking about you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;When I think of love, a love so true,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I find myself just thinking about you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Whatever may happen, whatever I do,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I always find myself just thinking about you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;When sometimes I think why I always think of you,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I know there's just one reason ~ I love you!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33956991-115755959761773787?l=pankha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/feeds/115755959761773787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33956991&amp;postID=115755959761773787' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/115755959761773787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/115755959761773787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/2006/09/thinking-of-you.html' title='Thinking of you....'/><author><name>Priyanka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16868317347352128005</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SRvY6FwkTBI/AAAAAAAAACc/fbSHsx9Rlh8/S220/P1010003.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33956991.post-115755713158004773</id><published>2006-09-07T00:21:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T00:38:51.606+09:00</updated><title type='text'>True Friend..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When the day seems blue and the night seems long,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;when the heart is singing a lonely song,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;when life seems to go on in a boring trend,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;when days just don't seem to come to an end.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When there's a big need for a helping hand,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;or a need for moral suppor, to stand,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;when there's ample free time to spend,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;when there's a need for someone ~ a friend.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When the mind is crowded with numerous doubts,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;when there's no surety, what life'll bring about;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;then fate brings someone, like a real Godsend,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;that person, that someone, becomes a friend.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Then the days no longer seem long and blue,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;'cos that true friend'll always see you through,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;that friend'll guide you through all sharp bends,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;take you by the hand and be there as a friend.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Beautiful days, weeks and years you behold,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;'cos a true friend always brings joys untold,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;your wounds will heal and themselves mend,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;when you share them, with a true friend.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;With friends, memories made are forever to keep,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;with friends around, you laugh and with joy you leap;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;but when you are gloomy and the tears don't end,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;then the one who holds you close, is your true friend.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Life becomes beautiful, just knowing someone's there,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;loving you, caring for you, someone with whom you share,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;all the ups and downs, of life, till the end,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;who's always there for you, that someone ~~ your true friend!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33956991-115755713158004773?l=pankha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/feeds/115755713158004773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33956991&amp;postID=115755713158004773' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/115755713158004773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33956991/posts/default/115755713158004773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pankha.blogspot.com/2006/09/true-friend.html' title='True Friend..'/><author><name>Priyanka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16868317347352128005</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5r3dtYhm-nQ/SRvY6FwkTBI/AAAAAAAAACc/fbSHsx9Rlh8/S220/P1010003.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
