tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10294529855724026612024-03-13T09:39:54.742-07:00BaLa Says Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17047572450946224775noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029452985572402661.post-52279789660115071552015-04-01T23:16:00.000-07:002015-04-08T23:33:56.038-07:00 Asura's Advocate<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzrsf77lBpRAI5Bb9LudZ80J9qxAj4_xd0AY-W5T58wt_pe2zpiW9wjGM0YGan3tfJgo55rBz-WAbkq96jNqXb6BFHBi5PdCPk7mQjORNlMWs5reWfqq2F6eBWljJFLhXk1z9M8fH3GC8/s1600/A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzrsf77lBpRAI5Bb9LudZ80J9qxAj4_xd0AY-W5T58wt_pe2zpiW9wjGM0YGan3tfJgo55rBz-WAbkq96jNqXb6BFHBi5PdCPk7mQjORNlMWs5reWfqq2F6eBWljJFLhXk1z9M8fH3GC8/s1600/A.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a><span style="float: left; font-size: 70px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 50px; margin: 0px 5px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative;">B</span>eing born into a classic Hindu family, I’ve been acquainted
with astrology ever since I could remember. As I grew older, the ritual belief
started manifesting itself in me as a stubborn interest to discover the
unknown. When people ask me whether I
believe in “Astrology for the Crazy”, I give a blank nod. Well, the fact is, I
believe in the science, only when it predicts good things for me. So, I’d
rather have you call it – “Astrology for the Opportunists”.</div>
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Anyway, today being the first day and post of the <b>April
#A-ZChallenge</b>, my post is going to be about a character I discovered
and grew close to through my keen oddity involving astrology. <br />
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An ‘<b>Asura</b>’ – is characterized by aggression, and vehement
passion for power and life. He lives a day at a time, and lives it to the
fullest.</div>
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From a very young age, us Indian kids have listened to our
grandmothers endlessly recite tales of various asuras being defeated till the
ground beneath their feet hauled them into ‘Naraka’. However, I had a very
different taste when it came to mythologies; I went for the brave than the
noble. And hence, ended up falling in love with Durga and Shiva for their
braveries. People with valiant and fearless personalities were always among my
favorites than the meek Devas who sat in Devaloka immersed in the immaterial gossip.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://blog.ninapaley.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/ravana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://blog.ninapaley.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/ravana.jpg" height="222" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">PC: http://blog.ninapaley.com/</td></tr>
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“<i><b>It is significant that it was not for their sins that
the anti-gods had to be destroyed but because of their power, their virtue,
their knowledge, which threatened that of gods</b></i>” – Alain Danielou ( Via
Wiki) </div>
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<u>Here are some of the random things about Asuras that
amaze me:<o:p></o:p></u><br />
<u><br /></u></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->1.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->They were marked by passion and determination.
The gods were terrified of their iron-willed personalities. In many of the stories I've come across – most of the Asuras meditated in excruciating
physical conditions for years, till the gods gave them an apparition and
granted them wishes. </div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->2.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Ravana - One of the most popular Asura of our
times. The ten headed physical description of Ravana is often drawn from the
fact that, his acumen was unparalleled during those times i.e. his intelligence
and capacity could beat that of ten ordinary men taken together. <br />
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->3.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Humility and Dedication - Some of the stories
seem to lay emphasis on the fact that Ravana waited all his life to die in the
hands of Rama, who was a godly incarnation, with the ulterior motive of
attaining ‘Moksha’. </div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->4.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Creativity – Most of the Asuras were in
possession of some endearing creative skills. If you take Ravana himself for
instance, who was an adept instrumentalist – he played the Veena like nobody’s
business. </div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->5.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Despite the wrath, Asuras were fond of forging
great friendships and being loyal to their kins. <br />
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->6.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I often end up comparing Asuras to Lord Shiva –
the strikingly similar appearances and habits, the unkempt hair and dressing,
the heroic valor and the intense personalities who dare to go beyond what’s
defined. </div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->7.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->This may sound slightly (read: majorly) dim,
but, I had a fond liking for the kind of weapons the Asuras crafted, in comparison
to the other demi-gods.And this judgement of mine, comes from watching too much of the shoddy mythical TV shows of the 90's.<br />
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->8.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Great warriors – The word Asura closely
resembles ‘Ahura’ which is the Persian expression for a great warrior.</div>
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Perhaps, this is me being a believer of “Astrology for the
Opportunist”, since I was born under the Asura Gana as per my Indian horoscope.
However, it is a matter of perception, whether ones liking bent towards the
brave one fighting for himself, or belonged to the successful and reticent, who
maintained double standards. For years I questioned the perception I was born
into, and finally put a finger on the fact that, maybe Asuras aren’t as bad as
they were portrayed to be!</div>
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While researching for this piece, I came across a wonderful
write-up on similar lines, some facts from which I have quoted in this article
too - <a href="http://vak1969.com/tag/asuras/">http://vak1969.com/tag/asuras/</a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17047572450946224775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029452985572402661.post-55251182858222952922015-03-22T06:56:00.000-07:002015-04-08T23:23:00.961-07:00'To the Edge of the World and Back' <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="float: left; font-size: 70px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 50px; margin: 0px 5px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative;">O</span>ne afternoon Sandra woke up startled rubbing her eyes from
the ruins of a silly dream. She brushed aside Jack her Labrador as he <span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">grunted</span> to snuggle
closer. Sandra was one of her kind since school days. As a child she was never
one to run to swings or chase butterflies. As a teenager, she was more excited
about the science exhibition than the prom. As she grew up, her interest in
archaeology and geography escalated and she majored in the 2 subjects with
flying colors.</div>
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One fine day as she was doing her chores, the idea of the
world having a geographical end accosted her. She cracked open at the thought
of something that silly. She thought, “If there existed an end of that kind, I
would go there during a cold sunset, holding Tim’s hand and tell the whole
world that I found the edge of the world, and the love of my life.” She was
perhaps, a tad bit philosophical for her generation, but no less a romantic. </div>
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A few years later, after some ground breaking leads on a
silly afternoon dream, Sandra was ready to present her paper titled, “To the
edge of the world and back” at an International Conference. The morning of the
conference, she was accompanied by Tim and Jack to a run of the mill
auditorium. They observed a crowd endorsing all kinds of intellects ranting about their latest research. Her cold hands clutched Tim’s in fear. </div>
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Sandra: “In front of all these people, I’ll be that infantile pseudo-intellect
who gets jeered at. It has been a dream for so many years to present here
among all these people, and yet, instead of enjoying this moment, all I can
think of is how silly I am going to sound when I present my paper.”</div>
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Tim: “You’re going to be fine hon. You have the power to convince
the world of truth, and I know you will wear it like a charm when it’s time to.
And then, we will ourselves head over to the edge of the world."</div>
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In the matter of a few hours, it was finally her turn to
present. She hesitated as she ascended the stage. As she announced her paper’s
title, there was some suppressed laughter and mockery happening. Nevertheless, after
seeing Tim and Jack seated there in the crowd, she decided to go ahead and
present the research. </div>
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It took Sandra one and a half hours to explain the concept
to the jury, as they gave her dubious glances. However, the audience was
spell-bound when she geologically proved that there indeed, was a coordinate on their home
planet Earth, which marked the edge of the world, so to say.</div>
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A few years hence, after a lot of research and calculation,
an expedition was planned to the cold deserts of Antarctica. Sandra gripped on
faith as she led the troupe to something that took birth at the premise of a
lazy afternoon nap. A few months later, Sandra was adorned with the tag that described her as the one who discovered the edge of the world. </div>
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Today, marks the 10<sup>th</sup> year after the edge of the
world was found. They have made a town out of the place for welcoming hundreds
of tourists who go here every day. They are usually seen thrilled to throw
around status updates about the picturesque edge of the world alongside selfie’s
with bored penguins. </div>
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Every year this day, Sandra, Tim and Jacky, travel to the
edge of the world and back, as a gesture of their love for each other.</div>
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Sometimes, the power to imagine is where it all starts. So before you categorize, Santa Claus and Easter bunnies to be silly myths, think, What if they were real?<br />
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"You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one.." - John Lennon</div>
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<strong style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">This post is a part of <a href="http://blog.blogadda.com/category/write-over-the-weekend-wow" style="color: #b85b5a; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank" title="Write Over the Weekend">Write Over the Weekend</a>, an initiative for <a href="http://www.blogadda.com/" style="color: #b85b5a; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank" title="Indian Bloggers">Indian Bloggers</a> by BlogAdda.</strong><br />
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17047572450946224775noreply@blogger.com5Bengaluru, Karnataka, India12.9715987 77.59456269999998312.4737417 76.946369199999978 13.4694557 78.242756199999988tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029452985572402661.post-2355439007187019712015-03-21T04:06:00.001-07:002015-04-08T23:23:45.823-07:00Faking Bad. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">PC: www.teeporium.com</td></tr>
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<span style="float: left; font-size: 70px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 50px; margin: 0px 5px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative;">I</span> read somewhere recently that, "<b>Friendship is a lot like falling in love</b>" - and I truly agree. In a crowd of zombies, when you spot that one person, who writes zeroes just like you do, has the same songs on the playlist as yours and believes in one too many little superstitions, knowing they are untrue - you know you want to be friends. ( Whatever happened to all of those hunches - hmph)</div>
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For the longest time in life I've been meaning to meet people, fresh and genuine people, with vivacious thoughts and dreams, just like mine. And I owe it to some bad luck, in the past 5 years, every body and every thing I have run across is as fake as the end of the world.<br />
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One of the few things I miss about childhood is the fact that it was so much easier to make friends. And then as I grew up, the only thing that has been giving me trouble is making friends. And in 99 out of my 100 experiences, right after the 'Friendship at first sight' happens, I find them fake and wave a goodbye.</div>
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With so much time and so many fake-ster encounters, I think I could safely summarize some of these encounters for your entertainment.</div>
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1. <b>Hypocritical Fake.</b></div>
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Playing by the rules, someone who has hurt my friend, is always going to be somewhat of a question mark in my eyes. So I had a very close friend who could repeat lines from my Life's Story and that does not mean we were close. I am just somebody who rants and gives up too much information in the first encounter (I just get excited when I talk to people). This friend of mine could recite my Karma-will-get-back-at-you list like no one else. One afternoon, the friend decides to oblige to a party invitation from a name on that list, and comes back to tell me how fake the party was later.<b>FAKE</b>.</div>
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2. <b>Hard Working Fake.</b></div>
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Remember you had a best friend in school who'd ring up at two in the morning whimpering about the next days exam? Whatever happened to those sentiments. These days, if there is a call coming in at 2 AM before an exam, it's just to tell you that the concerned person has finished studying and is going to sleep. Oh and these fake-sters, they always end up scoring less than me - so SCORE. :P I mean which world are they in? Think of it, half the time when the faculty doesn't know what the subject is about who's this Einstein midst all of that who thinks they've discovered the end of the world and now it's finally time to rest? <b>FAKE.</b></div>
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3. <b>Networking Fake. </b></div>
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Oh this is my favorite kind. Last year I happened to meet a bunch of MBA boys( or whatever you call boys who haven't yet achieved manhood). These guys had a strategy to fake networking - </div>
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a) Call the person by a silly nick name,</div>
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b) Make sure the rest of the group calls them by the same creepy nick name.</div>
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c) Boast about the tales of their grandfathers, mothers palace in England and Rome and how they own a few pyramids in Egypt. </div>
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d) Think that the person is floored by the tales. </div>
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e) Add them on Facebook and call them next when you need a favor. (*party-horns*)</div>
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4. <b>Insecure Fake.</b></div>
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Haha. Okay I am picturing somebody right now as I'm typing this out. So this person wants to do everything there is on this god damned planet. They want to be a rock star and a prince at the same time.I mean, we are not living a fairy tale, you don't get to sneak out at night in a pumpkin cart to sing at a concert and get back in before anybody realizes it was you. So these people will fake to be friends with everyone they know and jump on the bandwagon of new fads as it approaches. </div>
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5. <b>Social Fake.</b></div>
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This person is always complaining about why you never hang out with them. They are forever kissing cheeks and hugging more than conversing. They've clearly figured how to win over people's confidence. They are always making new and newer groups and socializing like there is no tomorrow. But deep down inside, they know their priorities and its likely that these people will leave you as soon as your social commonalities end. </div>
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6. <b>Loud Fake.</b></div>
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These people will scream out how much they love you in a crowd of 2 million and make sure they are heard. So tomorrow when someone comes to you and asks you to write them a birthday card, don't be surprised. They've already assumed you two are close. </div>
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7. <b>Facebook Fake.</b></div>
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Haven't you met people who are something online and entirely something else in person? Well I've been honored to have met quite a few of those retards. They are extremely good at pinning false achievements to the wall of fame but once you meet them in person, you wonder if it is the same person. Their FAKEBOOK profile says they led a troop for a vicious war, and in reality the person is someone who can't hurt a leaf, if they wanted to. </div>
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8. <b>Be-Cool Fake.</b></div>
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Oh! this is the most common kind. From trying to get selfies with celebrity look-alike's to learning to speak in a British accent, these people are fighting to look cool.If you walk up to them tomorrow saying being a Tomato is so cool, they might actually wear a Tomato suit to workplace the next day.</div>
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So that's for how many Fake-sters I can think of right now.<br />
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How are you holding up in this fake-town? </div>
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PS: This post is dedicated to a friend of mine who always gets me thinking, Mathew!<br />
PPS: He is far too innocent to be a fake-ster and is an amazing writer himself *respect*</div>
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17047572450946224775noreply@blogger.com0Bengaluru, Karnataka, India12.9715987 77.59456269999998312.4737417 76.946369199999978 13.4694557 78.242756199999988tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029452985572402661.post-32649256376480016422014-12-30T21:29:00.003-08:002014-12-30T21:42:02.759-08:00Say Hello, 2015!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picture Courtesy : http://weheartit.com/</td></tr>
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<span style="float: left; font-size: 70px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 50px; margin: 0px 5px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative;">I</span>t's a new beginning already. Here I am, ready with a list of things I propose to do the coming year.<br />
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Every year, December to January is an eventful time for me. All that anticipation about the birthday madness, all the glitter on Christmas trees, all those sales and woohoo's in malls, Secret Santa's , all that shopping for gifts, and of course, a list of resolutions, which, by the mid of January is tucked away in a cozy corner, to be opened and fret upon by next December.<br />
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<b><u>Looking back:</u></b></div>
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Last year this time, I was digging myself a hole waiting for the CAT results. Last year, this time, I was making back up plans in case I didn't make it into a decent place to get an MBA degree. Last year, this time, I was endlessly waiting in hope, I was stuck in an obscure rut. Last year this time, I was playing with a baby cousin who could barely lift her little finger to point at the things she found fascinating. </div>
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Well that was just the beginning. Through 2014, I made some wonderful friends, heard some wonderful songs, grew a year older and not the least bit wiser. Well for sometime I've been stuck on the theory that says, Insanity is directly proportional to our increasing age. I'm growing up to be a bigger child than I ever was!</div>
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<b><u>Looking Ahead:</u></b></div>
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Right now, right here, at this point, I'm sitting unabashedly, shaking in fear for the pace of time, which almost always manages to leave me baffled. In exactly two days, I'm turning 23. You may say, so what, it's just 23, not 30. You are right, but being the drama queen I am, and given my dislike for odd numbers, it's a scary thought. In exactly two years or lesser from now, I would stop attending all family functions, for the thought of the stereotype aunties walking up to me all ticklish showing me photos of some rich, well-settled and lack-lustre items available in the marriage market, making me want to dig myself a deeper hole than the one I am already in. And everywhere I look, I find a dozen more reasons to sulk. To the extent that one of my closest friend thinks, I've a disease - one where I am resolute to sulk about anything and everything! </div>
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So I'm starting 31st of December, 2014, with some of my favorite people, doing some of my favorite things - <b>SHOPPING and EATING. </b><br />
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I've never been a great aficionado of change. But, in 2014, I saw some beautiful changes. My baby cousin grew up to lift the same finger and point at my photo, in fact she walks and talks fun now! I officially got rid of the bad luck with finding creepy people midst a non-creepy crowd, I decided to give the world a chance. </div>
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This year I look forward to being a regular on my blog, giving myself a little more girl attention (i.e. mani's, pedi's, parlors etc) , exploring the world a tad bit more and making my last year of college one that I'd remember for the rest of my life!</div>
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I feel obliged to say I'm thankful to some wonderful friends of mine for pulling me back up when I thought I'd be sinking, and being there beside to hold my hand through the craziest of times. I hope to keep this going. </div>
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<b>And hopefully this year ends up being a beautiful one too, etched on to each of our timelines. </b></div>
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<b>Happy 2015 guys! </b></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17047572450946224775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029452985572402661.post-28459850996096591902014-11-08T03:36:00.002-08:002014-11-10T03:52:02.713-08:00Side-Effects of Adulthood.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br /><span style="font-weight: normal;"> <span style="float: left; font-size: 65px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 45px; margin: 0px 6px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative;">N</span>ow that I’m officially a grown up, living by myself in a strange city, I wish I hadn't grown up so fast. During playtime, as a child I’d often wonder what it’d be like to be grown up, well its like when they said, be careful what you wish for.<br /><br />#1 – The endless wait for the brief weekend. And when a weekend finally arrives, all we have energy left for is, SLEEP.<br /><br />#2 – Power Naps. We wake up startled at our cubicle and start typing into the computer again.<br /><br />#3 – Solitude. We are so surrounded by people talking a blue streak all day that at the end of the day we want to be tucked away from the world.<br /><div style="text-align: center;">
<img height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEgkytRFuEcxR6GeibQ5PAgCayU05sPjiBH2PnzJdMX5PKroMwASXqaOx0FQ-yZYFLvKrrSt9IsPYkKtUVAC7sowCURqTGM7KYzXitFuld7Pvs9hn79nvBcCqvdXdyooiywNIxQjNJ4F_VPw8eBl-G9KmjxqyYRdPCoWZj3cWogD-Vj70AGr_Cci95rYCgfriXZNihR3V4gBX2wRwUEA2g=" width="320" /></div>
#4 – We meet spiteful authorities. Spiteful teachers who dole out assignments on weekends and spiteful bosses who make you work off-record at home and pay us 1/10th of what we deserve.<br /><br />#5 – We start believing lying is okay. Remember when were children we used to think the biggest misdeed is lying? Well, that phase is clearly over. We lie all the time once we grow up.<br /><div style="text-align: center;">
<img height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEiTXWMFuzC9nDKZfAqOyA6N0qNQxWbKoICfXv1FkSRrV9cRJM8xEReZUVTxZgDRIn_PB-RQ3s9Noc9-odG20wXy5XJ0f5W9BAk2XqtcfyQD_u0SkSSC7VawJc_iRhOIKtEnD1lPUVF0u_fHworNfhxPogFyVsxXDj-4IAWqgaYcMOLnTeYorr8Khg=" width="320" /></div>
#6 – Ego kicks in. Like lying wasn't good enough, now there’s ego ensuring lies are well-utilized.<br /><br />#7 – We grow fat. We hit the gym. Remember when we were kids, we used to play and run all the time. Could we ever be in better shape then? And now? :/<br />#8 –We pretend. We don’t buy a dress because we want to. We buy it because it’d make us look a class higher than the others. We hide how we really feel, just to ward off judgments. We say something and do another, and think that’s okay.<br /> <br /><div style="text-align: center;">
<img height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEjkNsZZDj4L1NZVd2DAybK-qNgds2ORvRTbwuW_AJaszQfY36d1Y1KV59s2yZq6ZKJeVSdEWQZWlrob0Ef0wNmASU54UBxSw1tjkbOjbNaH54PS6DBt5yn4SK5X-dKbQPF2c1ctN7f0agEIVU88VgwYl6C0Uh-YhKiW-vple8KEX85TOyjuNvUpFYSD-mbNg1jc1gDUipJQeL4wEKjP=" width="320" /></div>
#9 – The judge in us blooms. Remember when we were kids and we’d play with the servant’s little boy? Now that we’re grown up, if we see the same boy groomed into a man, despite recognizing we’d turn the other way. Its way too below our league to be interacting with such people!<br /><br />#10 – We lose our ability to imagine. It’s always going to be about practicality. We stop believing in dreams and fairy tales. We get too soaked into the vicious social life, we lose our ability to think positively.<br /><br />It was so much better being a child. Nothing was deliberate, everything was innocent. To the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Id,_ego_and_super-ego">ID</a> in us, for being the only child-like instinct left in our systems!</span></h4>
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<span style="float: left; font-size: 65px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 45px; margin: 0px 6px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative;">A</span>s years pass by, I only count my blessings twice, and feel good about how festive this time of the year is for me. The transition from 31.Dec.2013 to 01.Jan.2014 is indeed a big one. The word NEW changes it all for me. I am like the fish who'll squiggle out of your palm before you know it. And so does the comparison suggest that I am no nemesis to material change. From the smell of new books to tying hair in a different style to buying new clothes or for that matter just replacing some old stationary with fresh, smart looking ones on a pen stand, excites me. However, my point here being, for someone who is obsessed with new things, beginnings et. al , a New Year can bring a lot. <br />
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I am not the resolution-kinds. Mainly because outlines and boundaries scare me. I am a wild stallion, lost in the wilderness of it all. So I make resolutions on the go. I bend them to fit my massacre of thoughts. . I need to know that I can alter anything to fit my happy head and bring my 1000 Watt smile back on. Flexibility is dear to me, you may say.<br />
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All over the Social Networks, I see people cursing the poor old December with sleazy innuendos. Poor thing is already under the pressure of approaching holidays yet, some of us never forget to blame the entire year on this one month. NoJudgement. But yea, I am not going to sit and carp about how bad December has been, because I was with family. And with family, month and year logs do not matter. For people like me who live out of a box in dingy hostel rooms, with tasteless hostel meals, and are constantly on the lookout for anything resembling a family, it's indeed quite a deal. I got to hog on some orgasmic home food cooked in creamy coconut puree and by all means enjoyed every bit of it. I got to lay midst a bunch of family gossip-mongers and sleep my heart out, just like the old days. I re-discovered my family's roots and realized I belonged to the warrior caste. War mongers and fighters. Well, that explains why I absolutely love getting into brawls , with no place/time/person guarantee.<br />
However, the best thing through the last year would have been the birth of a baby cousin after 8 long years of torturous waiting. She came home like the late birth of Vishnu's last avatar with Lord Krishna's birth sign. She was a tiny bundle of joy, who my grandmother and I scooped up from the airport. Ever since, she's been making our lives thrive. August was quite a month, as I waited with bated breath for her birth. And now that she's here, it hurts to think of leaving. In short, the bus ride back to Bengaluru is not going to be a good one.<br />
Coming to the point, I witnessed the curtain fall right as 2k13 kicked the bucket. I watched 2K14 stutter in in a lacy white virgin gown as she sashayed down my mind's ramp.<br />
I like the word NEW. And hence the New Year excites me. Not that I hope to rule the world this year, but I do hope to find a way to talk to myself again.<br />
Happy 2014.<br />
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2013 wasn't very cherry-picked after all. It was like any other year, blending memories, both happy and hurtful, together. I will miss 2K13 for the peek-a-boo games it played with my head. I will remember 2K13 as the year I made a couple of great friends, and even lost some. I will miss the day when I met the girls and dared to look at the world downside up. I will look back at 2K13 and laugh at myself for thinking "Things couldn't get Worse!" because as far as I remember, the New Year's eve started out with saying, " Oh shit! It just did!" . I will learn from my mistakes and try to not trip on their vicious charm one more time. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17047572450946224775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029452985572402661.post-34606854962697323332013-09-07T14:17:00.002-07:002014-11-10T03:42:06.318-08:00Humans and their taxing Arguments.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="float: left; font-size: 65px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 45px; margin: 0px 6px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative;">I</span>f only people were innately sensitive to how another person feels. That just lacks in us humans, doesn't it? Even me for that matter. Sometimes all I can think of is what makes me feel good, whether it leaves another person miffed or not. <br />
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Gets me thinking,<br />
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How can people argue so much? Why isn't it taxing for them to say the same thing in cycles for several hours and still not understand that someone is seated right in front exhausted from all that yapping?<br />
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<a href="http://31.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mdw4gh6iWU1rqh663o1_400.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEgBd6sMlgmM59EuQTz-cts1XE4xeBzBCKMQBqAOjVGcsJtefm3HapjPxsqU1pB4aPcBrxFjQvG0xiZa5cgjiLc-FW8s72uanreXo-A7-a281RqQo8lsyFR4i1O_CVcK-faScFeSsfgsnIikO5M-bA27ioBZv7u1ax2JPOStjw=" /></a></div>
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Sometimes it's just so hard to sit and talk to people. Sometimes it's so hard to make them listen to you,especially when the other does not want to give up on the argument.<br />
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I've given up on explaining to people what I am going through, or for that matter what hurts me. Because only if they wanted to they would understand. They can sit there all day, and be in a parallel universe where they are right. But I am not going to agree unless you use logic to prove your point.Yes, I am going to be the self-appointed judge. It's the safest position in an argument.<br />
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And sometimes, it's just better to clam up and let them win the argument. Saves you time and energy. <br />
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Yes , people have made me reach the stage where I've realized they're all pugnacious. Unwilling to relinquish control.<br />
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Am done with my share of dealing with bilious idiots, who do not have the patience to hear or sense another persons POV.<br />
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Hey Human, <br />
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You have an issue when I talk and express how I feel. You're then going to make me feel terrible about being expressive.<br />
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You have an issue when I give you terse replies and am unwilling relinquishing the argument in your favor. Then you say I am acting superior.<br />
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I think by now, it's justified that I have turned into a misanthrope, just for the fact that I am TIRED of trying to put it across to you.You are so loud, you cannot even hear your own thought's. You went too far with finding innuendos that you forgot what the brawl was all about in the first place.<br />
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So if you think I am living a fairy tale and not matching up to your pragmatic way of looking at things, I am sorry, you'd rather leave before I take a sword and chop your precious head off.<br />
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Bala Says: <br />
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#1: Be indifferent to their court room dramas. When people want you to react, put your foot down and call it a day.Silence is a powerful weapon.<br />
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#2: When a human pisses you off, LEAVE IMMEDIATELY, than stand there till you see its smug face yapping like there's no tomorrow.<br />
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#3: If The One you think is THE ONE, calls your expectation from a relationship a fairy tale? Don't stick around till he breaks your bubble.<br />
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<u>He's not The One.</u><br />
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<span style="float: left; font-size: 65px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 45px; margin: 0px 6px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative;">L</span>et's just say, SPEED thrills and KILLS.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjwgcy1sWfIrdoukLD5X7aGBPuIlh5ghyphenhyphenTYq_87b2fe_h6n2fha9RP3lo2a_NMsQahEqXIZM0miBq0JPT7DJ5XBG84BeA5zrCWM_Vu7OfOCJdNpGPdxo1j8PmDcXfcCzj9YjNaTfZ-Fo8/s1600/1354003874.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjwgcy1sWfIrdoukLD5X7aGBPuIlh5ghyphenhyphenTYq_87b2fe_h6n2fha9RP3lo2a_NMsQahEqXIZM0miBq0JPT7DJ5XBG84BeA5zrCWM_Vu7OfOCJdNpGPdxo1j8PmDcXfcCzj9YjNaTfZ-Fo8/s1600/1354003874.jpg" /></a>She was seated comfortably on the window seat of a rickety BMTC bus. As much as she loved travelling, she loved imagining what people were like behind their vicious daylight facades. Her eyes were fixated to the numbers engraved on an empty billboard. Evidently some advertising agency was thriving on its last legs. As she turned up the volume of her favorite classical track, she felt a cold drop on her arm. Before she knew, the city was accosted by a windy drizzle. Some of those who were crossing the road looked displeased with life, yet some others, were excited like they had not seen it rain in decades. The bunch of graceful young ladies across the road smiled endlessly as they unfolded their fancy polka dotted umbrellas. An old man, 50-something, beside them had a side of his lungi stretched up to his head, attracting the expected repugnance by the womankind. A gang of young 20-somethings, formally attired, ran for shelter to the nearest shop. Before she could blink an eye, they lighted up some cigarettes and in the smoke of relief, began their IT gossip. A middle-aged mother waited for a bus with two toddlers playing peek-a-boo with her shabbily tied sari. She looked apathetic and tired with their childhood. Trucks, cars, cows and what not sped across the two roads with an I-don’t-care-if-you-die attitude. Just then she saw,across the road, a truck rammed into a car one fourth its size. Her bus halted; a crowd gathered; an injured lady was rushing against her death clock. The two drivers furiously slammed doors and walked out as though they could scratch each other’s eyeballs out. They bantered aloud in Kannada as they engaged in the worthless tussle. She saw two cops standing a foot or two away, sipping teas obliviously. The careless truck-driver, even more carelessly paid the car-driver off, and the traffic flow was restored. The shards of glass and pool of blood left unattended. The lady counting her minutes down left unattended. <br />
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In those 20 minutes, she saw, life came to a transient halt; progressed to an infuriating commotion; people argued, some others entertainingly watched, some were oblivious and yet some other pricks were photographing the incident and sending it across whatsapp. It made her wonder, was life of such little worth? Was life such a big commotion,that lasted less than a few minutes? <br />
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<b>Word of the Day</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOOtJvjw2YC_HRza0LiRLaUJwVWxTGlhyeB3RXZB43xrX018w-ryxcYqa2sIy6LT_CTunVHs6Q0F-dDBLo2Rimcf2je0zq1pCSR4nnlGjw0VfyS8dfzRtOsjTZSBBupEsETMy5RLt_fE/s1600/header.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOOtJvjw2YC_HRza0LiRLaUJwVWxTGlhyeB3RXZB43xrX018w-ryxcYqa2sIy6LT_CTunVHs6Q0F-dDBLo2Rimcf2je0zq1pCSR4nnlGjw0VfyS8dfzRtOsjTZSBBupEsETMy5RLt_fE/s320/header.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><u>Bala Says:</u></b><br />
Sure they say ignorance is bliss, but remember, they never said the road was your playground.</div>
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If we all ever failed to see, the biggest irony to life is the Murphy’s Law. You would have already noticed Bala and I are great aficionados of the Murphy’s Law. Murphy’s Law is a satirical staging of the snags in life. In other words, a wee bit less perilous than opening the Pandora’s Box.<br />
<br />
<span style="float: left; font-size: 65px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 45px; margin: 0px 6px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative;">M</span>any of us took birth picturing the world as one of the Utopian edifices and understood it is all a delusion, much later. And then we considered pessimism. We started being cautious of the perils and sensed the wile potholes. We became astute. And along came the Murphy’s Law. It teaches one to be cautious when he can, in order to complete a task successfully. However, today's ridiculous trends have brought in a new standpoint towards this ageless law. The Murphy’s Law, has been adapted to suit many every situation one can foresee. Though some are side-splitting, I love the sarcasm and pessimism contained. It’s worth a share.<br />
<br />
Original Version of the Law:<br />
“If something can go wrong, it will.”<br />
<br />
Dedicated to Sir Issac Newton:<br />
“Every action has a not-so-kind reaction.”<br />
<br />
The law for Diplomats:<br />
“The boss will decide to call right when you decide to take a break.” Oops-a- Daisy already."<br />
<br />
Dedicated to Gravity:<br />
“Any tool, nut, bolt, screw, when dropped, will roll to the least accessible corner.”<br />
<br />
Dedicated to Defamation and Probability:<br />
“The probability of being watched is directly proportional to the stupidity of your act.”<br />
<br />
To wrong numbers:<br />
“If you dial a wrong number, you never get a busy signal and someone always answers.”<br />
<br />
Law of Close Encounters:<br />
“The probability of meeting someone you know increases dramatically when you are with someone you don't want to be seen with.”<br />
<br />
To brand enthusiasts:<br />
“As soon as you find a product that you really like, they will stop making it.”<br />
<br />
To a buttered toast:<br />
“The chances of the toast landing buttered side down is directly proportional to the cost of the carpet.”<br />
<br />
To Baby-Sitters:<br />
“When you need to carry a child they will want to walk.”<br />
<br />
To Biologists( my kins):<br />
“If the preservation vial is not lost, the culture is not viable.”<br />
<br />
Do you fear Peanut Galleries? Then watch this:<br />
“If the audience can clap at the wrong time, they will.”<br />
<br />
To copiers:<br />
“The legibility of a copy is inversely proportional to its importance.”<br />
<br />
A Last one for the sake of fun:<br />
“Tell a man there are 300 billion stars in the universe and he'll believe you. Tell him a bench has wet paint on it and he'll have to touch to be sure.”<br />
<br />
And of course, Bala’s Version :<br />
“If shit can happen, it invariably will.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<u><b>Bala Says: </b></u><br />
<br />
I wake up chanting the law than the usual religious hymns. It helps. It really does. Trust me, wake up chanting this, and you’ll find a way to look at the problems with an eye of humour. It helps lower expectations and makes living with the not-so-pleasing-facts, a jay-walk.”<br />
<br />
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<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17047572450946224775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029452985572402661.post-56167901316086614302012-03-18T14:29:00.000-07:002014-11-10T03:42:58.137-08:00A Puppet Hearsay. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="float: left; font-size: 65px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 45px; margin: 0px 6px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative;">B</span>ecause life is more like a string-driven puppet, the moment the strings are left loose , you lose balance and then it all seems like a dream!<br />
<br />
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<br />
Am a puppet who likes to dance and sing,<br />
<br />
In the lime light of this city fair,<br />
<br />
The princess I play in my country folk,<br />
<br />
Swaying around my city prince, the bloke.<br />
<br />
Beautiful colours adorn my face, the lovely crimsons and the hues,<br />
<br />
They dance with me oh little one, as they stroke my city’s blues.<br />
<br />
My puppet heart just missed a beat,<br />
<br />
When the bloke blew me a kiss,<br />
<br />
Then cried the cohesive crowd,<br />
<br />
As the villain hurtled on his village horse.<br />
<br />
The bloke reverently held the stage, and kicked the villains aloof mind off,<br />
<br />
Caught up in this web of life, married then were the bloke and I,<br />
<br />
Master twirled me, danced away, as the little ones then waved a bye!<br />
<br />
Gone are now those wistful days, master and I gleamed at the crowd,<br />
<br />
And since my master dumped my strings, I feel slackly all around.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FWcBuFsvR0Q/T2WgT0krNPI/AAAAAAAAAeI/YU8a3Dj7COY/s1600/puppet-show.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FWcBuFsvR0Q/T2WgT0krNPI/AAAAAAAAAeI/YU8a3Dj7COY/s400/puppet-show.jpg" /></a>I have never felt in my hands that shake, lest master twirled them left or right,<br />
<br />
Now look at them sway to wind, heaving a heavily melancholic sigh,<br />
<br />
As the theatre welded this silence abound,<br />
A jarring wind of dust there came,<br />
Along came the misted memories,<br />
As the dust played a catch-me game.<br />
Soon was I to regret or not?<br />
The lime light’s sudden twisted tryst,<br />
<br />
Now I know I liked it all, the crimson hues and brimful mists,<br />
<br />
And as the dust wavered to settle down,<br />
<br />
I watched the sky again turn blue,<br />
<br />
Now I know am grey and old, and my masters’ left my string to you.<br />
<br />
Humble be my rendition here,<br />
<br />
Subtle be my moves,<br />
<br />
Am a puppet who likes to dance and sing,<br />
<br />
Could you make me groove?<br />
<br /></div>
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