<?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-9084392123368505208</id><updated>2012-02-16T17:29:48.384+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Wanderings of an Itinerant Mind</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>186</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-9019198932539285759</id><published>2011-11-12T10:15:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2011-11-12T10:16:58.397+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Jingle Jingle Little Bell</title><content type='html'>Jingle jingle little bell&lt;br /&gt;How I wonder, what you tell&lt;br /&gt;But when you ring, we all know&lt;br /&gt;School is over, its time to go!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-9019198932539285759?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/9019198932539285759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=9019198932539285759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/9019198932539285759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/9019198932539285759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2011/11/jingle-jingle-little-bell.html' title='Jingle Jingle Little Bell'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-3179561413571316876</id><published>2011-11-11T23:04:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2011-11-11T23:59:05.915+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Elements</title><content type='html'>By the wilful fire are you forged&lt;br /&gt;That creates through destruction&lt;br /&gt;Or by the fluid water are you composed&lt;br /&gt;That conquers all by yeilding&lt;br /&gt;Or by the subtle air are you pervaded&lt;br /&gt;That conducts thoughts with lightening speed&lt;br /&gt;Or by the solid earth are you built&lt;br /&gt;That is stable and long endured&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-3179561413571316876?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3179561413571316876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=3179561413571316876' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3179561413571316876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3179561413571316876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2011/11/elements.html' title='Elements'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-3538893889030185782</id><published>2011-11-11T22:43:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2011-11-11T22:55:41.698+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Escape from Reality</title><content type='html'>How can the dreamer escape from reality&lt;br /&gt;If there is no reality to escape from&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can he spin creative yarns to weave joyful fantasies,&lt;br /&gt;Without the loom of crushed hopes &amp; thread of painful experiences&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How sweet are the flights of imagination&lt;br /&gt;Out from the mire of bitter sorrow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How inspiring is that world forged of wilful fire&lt;br /&gt;Bringing warmth to a better tomorrow&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-3538893889030185782?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3538893889030185782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=3538893889030185782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3538893889030185782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3538893889030185782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2011/11/escape-from-reality.html' title='Escape from Reality'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-1957537830670842065</id><published>2011-09-26T23:54:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2011-09-26T23:56:28.614+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Black Crow</title><content type='html'>Ka Ka black crow, Ange paar adho!&lt;br /&gt;Yes sir, yes sir - three black crow&lt;br /&gt;One will eat my cake,&lt;br /&gt;One will eat my toast,&lt;br /&gt;One will get shooed away&lt;br /&gt;If it comes too close.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-1957537830670842065?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/1957537830670842065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=1957537830670842065' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/1957537830670842065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/1957537830670842065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2011/09/black-crow.html' title='Black Crow'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-8841117961926605639</id><published>2011-07-03T09:39:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2011-07-03T09:43:09.838+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Universe has consciousness</title><content type='html'>Consciousness is different from matter &amp; energy. It cannot be analyzed in terms of matter or energy. We are made up of matter, energy &amp; consciousness. We can only be made up of what is there in the Universe. Nothing that is part of us can come about from nothing. So if we are made up of matter &amp; energy which is from the Universe, even our consciousness would have come from the Universe i.e. Universe must have consciousness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-8841117961926605639?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8841117961926605639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=8841117961926605639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8841117961926605639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8841117961926605639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2011/07/universe-has-consciousness.html' title='Universe has consciousness'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-292502854318838419</id><published>2011-07-03T09:06:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2011-07-03T09:21:53.390+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Knowing</title><content type='html'>Man (the subject) tries to know everything around him (the objects). But what is "knowing"? "Knowing" something could mean the following things&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- what are the properties that distinguish that object, that make it a separate "object" worth study. For e.g. once you have studied and listed down properties of an animal say "deer", then there is no point studying other deers, in so far as to "know" the "deerness" part of them.&lt;br /&gt;- "knowing" the properties helps one understand/know how that object would behave under different scenarios.&lt;br /&gt;- it also helps to "know" where this object came from and where it is headed towards, as also why, how &amp; when it came into being i.e. in case of an animal - its evolutionary cycle.&lt;br /&gt;- based on all this "knowing" helps to categorize - the human way of systematizing knowledge e.g. so deers are mammals, of the class of vertebrates and so on...&lt;br /&gt;- the human endeavor to "know" any object is generally to benefit from that knowledge. So "knowing" as  a corollary may also extend to finding ways of putting this knowledge to practical use.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-292502854318838419?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/292502854318838419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=292502854318838419' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/292502854318838419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/292502854318838419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2011/07/knowing.html' title='Knowing'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-4011838247379827165</id><published>2011-05-16T22:37:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2011-05-16T22:55:29.373+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Isha Upanishad - stanza 1</title><content type='html'>ॐ ईशा वास्यमिदँ सर्वं यत्किञ्च जगत्यां जगत् ।&lt;br /&gt;तेन त्यक्तेन भुञ्जीथा मा गृधः कस्यस्विद्धनम् ।। १ ।।&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;îsHâ vâsyamidaM sarvaM yat kiñca jagatyâM jagat,&lt;br /&gt;tena tyaktena bhuñjîthâ mâ gRidhaH kasya sviddhanam. 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ishaa - God, the Lord&lt;br /&gt;vaasyam - clothed, enveloped, pervaded, dwelling&lt;br /&gt;idam - this&lt;br /&gt;sarvam - all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yatkincha (yat kim cha)- whatsoever ?&lt;br /&gt;jagatyaam - in this world, on earth&lt;br /&gt;jagat - world, moving, movable, earth&lt;br /&gt;tena tyaktena -renouncing this, it (tyaktena means detaching or renouncing)&lt;br /&gt;bhunjitha - enjoy (also mentioned as "protect" in some translations)&lt;br /&gt;ma - dont&lt;br /&gt;gridha - covet (wish to possess)&lt;br /&gt;kasya - whose&lt;br /&gt;svid - indeed, i wonder, do you think&lt;br /&gt;dhanam - wealth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the Lord is enveloped all that moves in the moving world.&lt;br /&gt;By renouncing this, find your enjoyment.&lt;br /&gt;Do not covet the possessions of others.&lt;br /&gt;(http://www.san.beck.org/Upan3-Isha.html)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-4011838247379827165?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4011838247379827165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=4011838247379827165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/4011838247379827165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/4011838247379827165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2011/05/isha-upanishad-stanza-1.html' title='Isha Upanishad - stanza 1'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-6961918901597788255</id><published>2011-05-07T00:05:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2011-05-07T00:22:32.243+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Matter of the matter</title><content type='html'>This matter doesn't matter, because &lt;br /&gt;What matters is beyond matter, but &lt;br /&gt;It is what Matters in this matter, and &lt;br /&gt;It is what made this matter&lt;br /&gt;rest may seem to matter, &lt;br /&gt;but it doesn't matter to those&lt;br /&gt;who understand the Matter of this matter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-6961918901597788255?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6961918901597788255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=6961918901597788255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6961918901597788255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6961918901597788255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2011/05/matter-of-matter.html' title='Matter of the matter'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-8612977926206767623</id><published>2011-04-23T09:50:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2011-04-23T10:14:25.843+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The Ultimate Secret</title><content type='html'>Nature is composed of Matter, Energy and Information as its three basic parameters.&lt;br /&gt;The ancients of India had divined as much, a truth at which now modern philosophers and scientists have arrived at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing is established - life is not just some amalgamation of matter and energy - information is also an essential component. Otherwise any energy producing natural phenomenon may be said to constitute life for example the erupting of volcanoes, or earthquakes or even the mere lapping of waves on the sea-shore. Critical distinguishing feature of life is the passing on of information down generations of any species, through a genetic code. Evolution happens through the mechanism of passing information - information is the medium, language is just a sophisticated form of expressing information that we humans or probably highly evolved animals have developed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Information is the software of life, much like matter and energy form the hardware. Without this software and hardware life wouldn't exist as we know it. Yet I feel life, its origin, it raison-d-etre is beyond explanation of matter, energy and even information. Information didn't produce consciousness - I think consciousness, which is evident in humans (while not evident in other life forms) is evident because of information, but that is not because of which it exists. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What then is the secret of this life, this consciousness? The ancient Indians had expended a great deal of reflection and intuition on these questions. First the reflective human thought that this body composed of matter is life, then dissatisfied, he thought the vital essence "prana" is life (which correlates with energy). But this too was not satisfactory. Then he thought manas (i.e. consciousness is life - remember, consciousness is evident to us through the medium of information and please dont confuse information with just language) must be the essence of life, but that was not found to be satisfactory. Beyond the manas lies intelligence (buddhi) and beyond it lies atma, the subject, the knower of all. That atma, which is no different than the Brahman which pervades all existence is the secret of life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frequently we find we have to go out of a parameter to understand a parameter. A parameter cannot explain itself in its own terms. First matter appeared to be the truth, but when we went to the layer of energy, we realized that matter is not the truth, but just an expression of it and so we went back layer by layer. Now from materialistic point of view, we can understand till the information layer. Humans have learnt abstract thinking through their evolution and this helps in this metaconceptions. Hence we can concieve the existence of consciousness. Yet for most of us looking from materialistic point of view, there seems a big barrier to go beyond, to understand that beyond. This is because we ourselves are in the layer of information. Hence while we can see below it energy and then matter, we cannot see above. We have to ascend above information. How to do that - I have no answer - still searching for it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-8612977926206767623?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8612977926206767623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=8612977926206767623' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8612977926206767623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8612977926206767623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2011/04/ultimate-secret.html' title='The Ultimate Secret'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-619356019565869546</id><published>2011-04-05T22:47:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2011-04-05T23:00:55.738+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Just as life shall grow out of a barren earth, once it is fed with ample water, rich in minerals, graced with warmth of sunlight&lt;br /&gt;Similarly once your heart is soaked with feeling, and mind illuminated with intelligence, the seeds of creativity shall sprout.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-619356019565869546?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/619356019565869546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=619356019565869546' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/619356019565869546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/619356019565869546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2011/04/just-as-life-grows-out-of-barren-earth.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-1304222274530605144</id><published>2011-02-13T10:55:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2011-02-13T10:57:46.500+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Stability and Intensity</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Stability&lt;/span&gt; (Samatha) - the well shielded lamp, whose flame wont get extinguished and &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Intensity &lt;/span&gt;(Vipasyana) - the intense flame that gives enough light to study the mural in dark (self or selflessness)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the two important parameters of meditative state.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-1304222274530605144?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/1304222274530605144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=1304222274530605144' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/1304222274530605144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/1304222274530605144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2011/02/stability-and-intensity.html' title='Stability and Intensity'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-8936397951938275506</id><published>2011-02-06T14:52:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2011-02-06T14:54:33.331+05:30</updated><title type='text'>No Fear</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"The whole secret of existence is to have no fear. Never fear what will become of you, depend on no one. Only the moment you reject all help are you freed."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I found this line on this website regarding meditation. &lt;br /&gt;http://www.clear-mind-meditation-techniques.com/benefits-of-meditation.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I liked it because it reflects exactly what my mindset and philosophy of life is these days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-8936397951938275506?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8936397951938275506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=8936397951938275506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8936397951938275506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8936397951938275506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2011/02/no-fear.html' title='No Fear'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-2295411549910512756</id><published>2011-02-03T11:30:00.006+05:30</published><updated>2011-02-03T12:02:15.324+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Evolution of Mind</title><content type='html'>Evolution is a continuous struggle to operate more effectively as an organism in a given environment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you look at how human beings evolved from microscopic unicellular creatures, you can see that there has always been a struggle to overcome one's basic tendencies to develop responses that can help manage the environment better. That's how we started walking up on two legs, developed opposable thumbs, developed a huge brain, and the sense of self - consciousness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you think that evolution is over and that man has reached the peak or apex of what he can be, then you are far from truth. We are still struggling - but what is it that the modern man is struggling against. When I say "modern" over here - its in evolutionary sense, not in our socio-political sense. The man who shifted from being a hunter-gatherer to a farmer some 10000 years ago is as modern for me as man of the twenty first century Anno Domini. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The modern stimulant for evolution is this brilliant evolutionary product called mind and specifically consciousness. The human mind is the "tool" that brings both the best and worst in us. But to understand how the mind can be so significant and how its shaping this evolutionary struggle of present, we have to go back to the origins to understand why the mind came into being in the first place - why did organisms that have a mind, mind about having a mind!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As organisms developed from their hoary unicellular origin, most probably symbiotically becoming more complex organisms - they required a system to manage their interrelationships better and work for the overall good. Every cell struggles to survive and thus the organism which is a complex system of multitudes of such cells reflects but this behavior. Every organismic system is intended to maintain homeostasis i.e. stability and integrity of the system vis-a-vis the environment, metabolism i.e. the process of transforming matter into energy to keep the cell up and running. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Antonio Damasio has explained in his book "Joy Sorrow and the Feeling Brain" - in more evolved organisms like primates, emotions and feelings developed as a mental heuristic to respond better to the collective survival will of the organism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On one hand is this existing natural tendency to preserve one's life and promote its well being which in modern sense makes us go after material possessions, to maintain and safeguard them - while at the same time this sense gives rise to fear and anxiety in the brain with regards to losing these material possessions and this fear and anxiety counter-acts the sense of well being, so that we are back to square one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also the increasing drive towards material possessions gives progressively lesser and lesser pleasure and one requires more possessions for same amount of pleasure - its akin to addiction to cigarette or drugs - more and more of these give progressively lesser pleasure than earlier. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What we find in society is two extremes so to say - there are on one hand people who go after material possessions and are always ridden with fear and anxiety and also guilt, in case these are ill-gotten possessions. On the other hand there are the abstainers, the ascetics who are so spiritual that they have forsaken all responsibilities of life and expectations. Now if the second category of people are ascetics who have renounced world and gone in some secluded ashram, then perhaps their way of life is in tune with their environment. But most of us are not ready to sacrifice a lot and yet we want a life of happiness, well-being and freedom from anxiety while being in the midst of this world and its chaos. How to manage that - that is the modern evolutionary struggle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-2295411549910512756?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2295411549910512756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=2295411549910512756' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/2295411549910512756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/2295411549910512756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2011/02/evolution-of-mind.html' title='Evolution of Mind'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-5823247293006830529</id><published>2011-01-27T20:03:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2011-01-27T20:24:59.314+05:30</updated><title type='text'>State of Fear</title><content type='html'>Our being is roiled with so many fears, day in and day out&lt;br /&gt;big fears and small fears - from fears of one's job, status, even life to trivial ones like fear of approaching an annoyed friend or lover, fear of speaking to someone about something, fear of doing something new. Why do we have to fear so much? What are all these fears for? Can we not be rid of these fears for good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The concept of God is to help man's ascent from the depths of fear, where he is bound by a tangled web of morbid feelings. The atheists must definitely be a courageous lot for they risk living without a belief in God...for most others such lack of faith will surely turn their heads to madness (I don't know of other types, but definitely a Scorpio man or woman who is an atheist definitely risks a lot for Scorpios have such intense feelings of all types including fear and they are such a suspicious, fearful lot!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first thing about fear one should realize is that it is but a reactive mental process - a feeling aimed to ensure an organism's survival, but conversely an organism which spends most of its lifetime in fear, be it externally or internally induced, only manages to diminish its lifespan considerably. The key to a long-lasting, healthy and fulfilling life (and all these three are inter-related) is to live a joyful life with very minimal and only necessary fear, only when absolutely required. Its like a bitter pill one takes when sick and if one has to take a bitter pill every other day, then it just goes on to show that one leads a sickly life and no pill can help such a person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One should understand that fear, at its basic level is just an interplay of chemicals in our brain ensuring a certain mapping or linkages between neurons - it is not something very big or insurmountable - its in your brain and it can be surmounted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever you are fearful and you know consciously that it is just one of those irritating, irrational fears (most fears are like that only) - then just tell yourself - &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do not be fearful, Do not struggle&lt;br /&gt;Let it go, let it leave out as you exhale breath&lt;br /&gt;Calm down, relax, close your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Stretch your lips as if you are smiling&lt;br /&gt;Mentally imagine yourself smiling.&lt;br /&gt;You inhale fresh air and smile grows more prominent&lt;br /&gt;Now there's a shine on your face, you are positively beaming&lt;br /&gt;Feel the joy as you inhale the fresh air&lt;br /&gt;Feel the relaxation as you exhale&lt;br /&gt;Its wonderful, its serene&lt;br /&gt;Be joyful, be calm, be at peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-5823247293006830529?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/5823247293006830529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=5823247293006830529' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/5823247293006830529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/5823247293006830529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2011/01/state-of-fear.html' title='State of Fear'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-1044410254117918941</id><published>2011-01-16T11:49:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2011-01-16T12:14:29.319+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Some thoughts</title><content type='html'>A cell is an autopoetic system - it has its individuality, which it maintains by its internal processes relating its various parts and this defines life. Existence is life. According to Franciso Varela - this is a necessary and sufficient condition - but a stone or inanimate object exists and continues to exist without having any flow of matter or energy. The answer to this is that if you break a stone into small parts, the individual parts of the stone still exist, but if you break a cell, its individual parts cease to exist because their existence was dependent on their mutual relationship - their organization. Hence the struggle for life - the various parts of a cell form a set of operational processes between them, which is information, which helps them to operate together to keep their organization alive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we look at a macro level, in business world organizations behave similarly to the cell organization - they have departments (akin to organs) which have their specific function and each employee (akin to a cell) who have their specific roles all related to each other through processes. Life is a team game - our groupings at a macro level mimic what they are at a cellular level, which constitutes us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The individual cells or even the organelles within a cell, may not be conscious of the life of the system which they constitute and may want to exploit each other for their own sustenance, but in the process they put the existence of the entire system at risk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-1044410254117918941?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/1044410254117918941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=1044410254117918941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/1044410254117918941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/1044410254117918941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2011/01/some-thoughts.html' title='Some thoughts'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-8122214547236558501</id><published>2010-12-21T00:57:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-12-21T01:00:46.868+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Madana Maligaiyil</title><content type='html'>My latest favorite - This song keeps buzzing in my mind every now and then - really the love the nostalgic yoodling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    * Album: Rajapart Rangadurai&lt;br /&gt;    * Song: Madhana Maaligayil&lt;br /&gt;    * Artists: T M Sounderarajan,P Susheela&lt;br /&gt;    * Composer: M S Viswanathan&lt;br /&gt;    * Lyricist: Kanadasan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;madhana maaLigaiyil manthira maalaigaLaam&lt;br /&gt;udhaya kaalam varai unnadha lilaigaLaam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;azhagu maaNikkamaam kattil aNaikka malaraNaiyaam&lt;br /&gt;azhagu maaNikkamaam kattil aNaikka malaraNaiyaam&lt;br /&gt;vaasalil thOraNam unnai varassollum thOzhigaLaam&lt;br /&gt;madhana maaLigaiyil madhana maaLigaiyil&lt;br /&gt;manthira maalaigaLaam manthira maalaigaLaam&lt;br /&gt;udhaya kaalam varai udhaya kaalam varai&lt;br /&gt;unnadha lilaigaLaam unnadha lilaigaLaam&lt;br /&gt;anbae anbae anbae anbae&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahhaa ahhaa...oh ho...&lt;br /&gt;mOgam munnaaga raagam pinnaaga&lt;br /&gt;muzhanggum sanggeethak kuyilgaL&lt;br /&gt;maegam minnaamal idiyum illaamal&lt;br /&gt;mazhaiyil nanaiginRa kiLigaL&lt;br /&gt;dhEgam ponnenRum paadham pUvenRum&lt;br /&gt;thazhuvum sallaaba rasanggaL&lt;br /&gt;vaegam kunRaamal viLakkam sollaamal&lt;br /&gt;virumbum aanantha ragangaL&lt;br /&gt;thalai&lt;br /&gt;idai&lt;br /&gt;kadai&lt;br /&gt;ena&lt;br /&gt;dhinam&lt;br /&gt;varum&lt;br /&gt;sugam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahhaa ahhaa...oh ho...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pacchai mUkkuththi manjaL neeraadi&lt;br /&gt;padhikkum paNpaattu kavidhai&lt;br /&gt;kachai maelaaga kaniyum noolaadai&lt;br /&gt;kavidhai koNdaadum rasigai&lt;br /&gt;pon maan ippOdhu ammaan un kaiyil&lt;br /&gt;peNmaan ennOdu pazhagu&lt;br /&gt;kaN vaay meyyOdu kanivaay koNdaadi&lt;br /&gt;mudinthaal neeraada vilagu&lt;br /&gt;pudhu&lt;br /&gt;madhu&lt;br /&gt;idhu&lt;br /&gt;idhan&lt;br /&gt;rasam&lt;br /&gt;tharum&lt;br /&gt;sugam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;madhana maaLigaiyil madhana maaLigaiyil&lt;br /&gt;manthira maalaigaLaam manthira maalaigaLaam&lt;br /&gt;udhaya kaalam varai udhaya kaalam varai&lt;br /&gt;unnadha lilaigaLaam unnadha lilaigaLaam&lt;br /&gt;anbae anbae anbae anbae&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.hummaa.com/music/song/Madhana+Maaligayil/37017#&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-8122214547236558501?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8122214547236558501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=8122214547236558501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8122214547236558501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8122214547236558501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/12/madana-maligaiyil.html' title='Madana Maligaiyil'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-5086609823791838117</id><published>2010-10-04T00:35:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2010-10-04T01:50:00.153+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Verses from Vivekachudamani</title><content type='html'>Beautiful verses from Vivekachudamani of Adi Shankara&lt;br /&gt;Translation of Swami Madhavananda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Verse 5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;वदन्तु शास्त्राणि यज्ञन्तु देवान &lt;br /&gt;कुर्वन्तु कर्माणि भजन्तु देवताः &lt;br /&gt;अत्मैक्यबोधेना विनापि मुक्ति&lt;br /&gt;र्न सिध्यते ब्रह्मशातान्तारेपी &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;vadantu shAstrANi yagyantu devAn&lt;br /&gt;kurvantu karmANi bhajantu devatAhA&lt;br /&gt;Atmaikyabodhen vinApi &lt;br /&gt;Muktirna sidhyate brahmashatAntarEpi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Let people quote the scriptures and sacrifice to the gods,&lt;br /&gt;Let them perform rituals and worship the dieties,&lt;br /&gt;(Yet) there is no Liberation for anyone without the realization of one's identity with the Atma. &lt;br /&gt;No, not even in the lifetime of a hundred Brahmas* put together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Lifetime of a Brahma - is an indefinite length of time. One day of Brahma is equivalent to 432 million human years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another Verse:&lt;br /&gt;Verse 26&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;sarvadA sthApanam buddheha shuddhe brahmANi sarvadA&lt;br /&gt;tat samAdhAna mityuktam na tu chitasya lAlanam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Not** the mere indulgence of thought in curiosity, but the constant concentration of the intellect on the ever pure Brahman is what is called samAdhAna or self-settledness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** Not the... - That is, not the mere thinking or intellectual or philosophical satisfaction in thinking of or studying the Truth. The intellect must be sought to be resolved into the higher activity of concentration on the Truth&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-5086609823791838117?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/5086609823791838117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=5086609823791838117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/5086609823791838117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/5086609823791838117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/10/verse-from-vivekachudamani.html' title='Verses from Vivekachudamani'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-7714218314961770825</id><published>2010-09-23T01:57:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-09-23T02:01:47.402+05:30</updated><title type='text'>About Chinna Kannan Azhaikiraan</title><content type='html'>I don't what is it about this song - every time I hear it, its as if a thrill courses through my nerves - what is it about the music, its delectable notes, about its lyrics, the imagery, Srivedi expressing a pathos which shall pierce the heart of a rock - dunno what it is. Certainly being an illiterate in music, I can't express what it is about the music that affects me so. Hence it was great to come across this article, which explains in some detail what is special about the music composition of this song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.behindwoods.com/tamil-movie-articles/movies-08/ilayaraja-28-01-09.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the wiki article on this film - Kavikkuyil, I came to know that the lyricist of this film is Panchu Arunachalam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I knew who played the flute - he is as great for this song as the maestros Balamuralikrishna and Illayaraja.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-7714218314961770825?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/7714218314961770825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=7714218314961770825' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/7714218314961770825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/7714218314961770825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/09/about-chinna-kannan-azhaikiraan.html' title='About Chinna Kannan Azhaikiraan'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-1527695529968368921</id><published>2010-09-13T01:16:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-09-13T20:46:41.031+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Chinna Kannan Azhaikiran</title><content type='html'>After a long time, very accidentally found this rare elusive video of one of my most favorite songs - Chinna Kannan Azhaikiran from the film "Kavi Kuyil" (1976)...music composed by the maestro Ilayaraja and sung in a sweet ethereal voice by Balamuralikrishnan...the lyrics are the most touching, i feel they touch my soul - I dont understand them fully, yet I am so fascinated by them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xei5wj_chinna-kannan-azhaikiraan_creation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Nenjil ulaadhum raagam&lt;br /&gt;Idhu daana kanmani raadha&lt;br /&gt;Un punnagai soladha adhisayamaa&lt;br /&gt;Azhagae Ilamai rathamey&lt;br /&gt;Andha mayana leelayil mayangadhu ulagam"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody please help me understand these lines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My understanding:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this the melody of my heart&lt;br /&gt;Tell me ye apple of my eye.&lt;br /&gt;Ye youthful, beauteous nymph&lt;br /&gt;Even the world is swayed by your charms.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-1527695529968368921?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/1527695529968368921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=1527695529968368921' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/1527695529968368921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/1527695529968368921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/09/chinna-kannan-azhaikiran.html' title='Chinna Kannan Azhaikiran'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-8603248591934178618</id><published>2010-09-12T00:29:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2010-09-12T00:52:33.755+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Some Thoughts</title><content type='html'>The unreal never existed&lt;br /&gt;The reality never ceases to exist&lt;br /&gt; - The Gita and the Upanishads&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Absolute is about "realizing the unreality of the determinable and reality of the indeterminable"&lt;br /&gt; - From "The Conceptual Framework of Indian Philosophy" by Balbir Singh, Ch2, Pg 31&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Nasato vidyate bhavo&lt;br /&gt;nabhavo vidyate satah"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The unreal never is,&lt;br /&gt;The reality never ceases to be"&lt;br /&gt;Gita Ch 2, verse 16&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-8603248591934178618?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8603248591934178618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=8603248591934178618' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8603248591934178618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8603248591934178618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/09/some-thoughts.html' title='Some Thoughts'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-8598707145947409742</id><published>2010-08-31T20:31:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-08-31T21:45:26.867+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Why do we get addicted?</title><content type='html'>Why do we get addicted?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here I am not talking about any addiction which is primarily due to physiological reasons - like drug abuse, smoking etc, but the mind being addicted to something - thinking in a particular way, being addicted to certain feelings. For e.g. I believe I have an addiction to always being infatuated to some woman or other. Over the past two years especially I have serially been infatuated to one woman after another. It seems to have become a habit - perhaps an unhealthy one.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think formation of addiction must be quite similar to forming of habits. Addiction in a way connotes any bad habits. So I guess a pertinent question to ask is why and how do we form habits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Habit formation, I guess, happens so as to become more efficient and skillful in regular activities. Humans would have evolved in this fashion so as to survive and prosper. Even in modern times, once we adopt a particular profession, we quickly become habituated to a certain way of thinking and doing our work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes consciously or unconsciously we also get into a mode of thinking, which over a period of time forms neural pathways which makes it all the more easier and spontaneous to fire up those neurons and trigger that thought. Once we start thinking something more often, it becomes more easier to think it, it also becomes more natural to think that way - thats how our opinions are formed, our perspectives are coloured. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But good thing about this is that if you stop thinking a particular way, and start thinking a different way, you can alter the neural pathways and simply change your thinking! Though yeah, its not as simple as it sounds. So, I guess, its possible to change my thinking, and not become infatuated habitually. Let's see if I can implement it in practice. Though I still haven't answered to myself the question - why do I have to stop it? As of now, I don't wish to attempt to answer this question...because its quite complicated. :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-8598707145947409742?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8598707145947409742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=8598707145947409742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8598707145947409742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8598707145947409742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/08/why-do-we-get-addicted.html' title='Why do we get addicted?'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-6151368913540966663</id><published>2010-08-31T09:16:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-08-31T09:21:18.213+05:30</updated><title type='text'>A time to every purpose</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"To everything there is a season&lt;br /&gt;And a time to every purpose under heaven...&lt;br /&gt;...a time to gain, a time to lose&lt;br /&gt;...a time to laugh, a time to weep&lt;br /&gt;...a time to build up, a time to break down"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- words of hope for even one who can't see light at the end of the tunnel and how fitting that it should come from the Bible&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-6151368913540966663?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6151368913540966663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=6151368913540966663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6151368913540966663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6151368913540966663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/08/time-to-every-purpose.html' title='A time to every purpose'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-3409175453604908758</id><published>2010-08-15T23:45:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2010-08-16T00:04:11.694+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Baare Baare</title><content type='html'>Come to me, ye fountain of love&lt;br /&gt;Come to me, my shining star&lt;br /&gt;Those welcoming eyes, smiling lips&lt;br /&gt;Can't be forgotten from even afar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beauty in that shyness&lt;br /&gt;leaves none else on par&lt;br /&gt;Unable to fight off attraction&lt;br /&gt;the heart gives up on this war&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Film: Nagara Haavu (1972)&lt;br /&gt;Singer: P.B. Srinivas&lt;br /&gt;Lyrics: Vijaya Narasimha&lt;br /&gt;Music: Vijaya Bhaskar&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baare Baare Chendada cheluvina taare&lt;br /&gt;Baare Baare Olavina chilumeya dhaare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kannina sanneya swagata Mareyalaare&lt;br /&gt;Chenduti Melina hoonage Mareyalaare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andada hennina naachike mareyalaare&lt;br /&gt;Mouna gouriya mohada kai bidalaare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baree Baare&lt;br /&gt;Chendada cheluvina tare&lt;br /&gt;Olavina chilumeya dhaare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baare Baare Chendada cheluvina tare&lt;br /&gt;Baare Baare Olavina chilumeya dhaare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaibale naadada gunganu alisalaare&lt;br /&gt;Maimana soluva mattanu mareyalaare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roopasi rambheya sangava toreyalaare&lt;br /&gt;Mouna gowriya mohada kai bidalaare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baree Baare&lt;br /&gt;Chendada cheluvina tare&lt;br /&gt;Olavina chilumeya dhaare&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-3409175453604908758?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3409175453604908758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=3409175453604908758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3409175453604908758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3409175453604908758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/08/baare-baare.html' title='Baare Baare'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-2399417306789821242</id><published>2010-08-15T02:14:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-08-15T02:26:27.732+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sometimes one can't help but wonder, if when the right person comes along, would one know him/her to be "the one" or would we be foolish enough not to recognize this. &lt;br /&gt;Would we be sure whether we really like that person or not and how long would it take to realize this truth. Intuitively, one could say that to know that one likes a person shouldn't take any time at all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it was something a friend said that really clicked in my mind with that "Aha!" sound. Her marriage has just recently been fixed and she remarked during our discussion - "yeah, with him, it seemed so easy.." and I cant help but wonder that this must be the answer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It must be so easy and straightforward (at least about liking the person part, not his/her family, job, location etc) that it would be self evident.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-2399417306789821242?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2399417306789821242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=2399417306789821242' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/2399417306789821242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/2399417306789821242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/08/sometimes-one-cant-help-but-wonder-if.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-5677703457755402724</id><published>2010-08-15T01:49:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-08-15T01:51:24.445+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Have become such a hard-core drunkard of this drink called love&lt;br /&gt;That I would require a really hard shot of it to ever get intoxicated again.&lt;br /&gt;Perils of over-indulgence! :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-5677703457755402724?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/5677703457755402724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=5677703457755402724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/5677703457755402724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/5677703457755402724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/08/have-become-such-hard-core-drunkard-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-7965231165180875214</id><published>2010-08-09T17:24:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2010-08-09T18:58:12.981+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Thoongatha vizhigal</title><content type='html'>Thoongatha vizhigal rendu from Agni Natchathiram (1988) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a duet. M is Male voice-over and F is Female voice-over&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thoongatha vizhigal rendu,&lt;br /&gt;un thunai thedum nenjum ondru.&lt;br /&gt;Sempoomanjam virithalum, paneerai thelithalum,&lt;br /&gt;anandam enakedhu anbey nee iladha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F: A pair of sleepless eyes and&lt;br /&gt;One heart that yearns for you,&lt;br /&gt;Even the fresh dew on blossomed lily&lt;br /&gt;Can't bring any joy without you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mamarai ilai mele, margazhi pani pole&lt;br /&gt;Poomagal madimeedhu naan thoongavo&lt;br /&gt;Rathiri pagalaagu, orupodhu vilagaamal&lt;br /&gt;Rajanai kaiyendhi thalatavo&lt;br /&gt;Naalum naalum raagam thalam&lt;br /&gt;Serum nerum theerum bharam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M: Like the dew drop on a mango leaf&lt;br /&gt;Shall I rest this night on your lap thus?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F: The entire night, till dawn breaks&lt;br /&gt;I will cherish you close to my heart thus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M: My desires have now been raised to such a pitch&lt;br /&gt;The only relief would be lasting union with you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aalilai sivapaagu angamum nerupaaga&lt;br /&gt;Noolidai kothipperum nilai enavo&lt;br /&gt;Aadhiyum puriyaamal andhamum theriyaamal&lt;br /&gt;Kadhalil arangkerum kadhai alavo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F: Why does the body feel so burning hot&lt;br /&gt;As if some fever courses through every nerve&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M: Such is the story of love, we enter it&lt;br /&gt;Heedless of which way our Fate shall swerve&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Madhulam kaniyada, malaradu, kodiyadu&lt;br /&gt;Marudham uravaada kalai enavo&lt;br /&gt;Vaalibham thadumaarum orubodhai thalaikerum&lt;br /&gt;Varthaiyil vilangaathu suvailavo&lt;br /&gt;Maelum maelum mogham koodum&lt;br /&gt;Dhaegham yaavum geetham paadum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F: Is it an unstoppable gale, that sweeps away&lt;br /&gt;Everything beautiful with unbridled passion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M: Its that which intoxicates one with youthful ardor&lt;br /&gt;Yet flows out in clear poetical expression&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An instrument at its mercy&lt;br /&gt;Thus it makes the body sing&lt;br /&gt;Raising to such feverish pitch&lt;br /&gt;Striking every single string.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-7965231165180875214?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/7965231165180875214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=7965231165180875214' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/7965231165180875214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/7965231165180875214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/08/thoongatha-vizhigal.html' title='Thoongatha vizhigal'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-1093670052153159410</id><published>2010-08-01T15:23:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-08-01T15:36:18.276+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A lady, in her wanderings, came across a seashore on one pleasant night. As she gazed across the sea she could see the lights from ships anchored in the distance. Those flickering lights made her yearn for them. As she restlessly walked on, she picked up pebbles and started tossing them into the sea. It was almost like her way of reaching out to the distant lights, which seemed so close and yet were so far, yet so tempting. How long she threw pebbles into the sea, she knew not, nor she knew how many but late into the night, she was still occupied by this. Somewhere along the way she drifted to sleep and woke up next morning to first ray of dawn, but it seem that all around her things were sparkling. It was as if she was not sleeping on sand, but on a bed of light. She looked around nonplussed and gasped in shock and wonder - all around her, here and there on the sand, were pieces of diamond strewn across the breadth of the beach. They were beside her, close to her, as they were all night long - but its only in the light of day could she see their worth - the diamonds that she took to be pebbles and had tossed into the sea. And when she looked up, to see the ship that had obsessed her, she could not find it into the horizon in any direction. The lady was fortunate to have the benefit of light before she exhausted the beach and her life of all the diamonds that were there. But for most of us the light has to come from within, letting us know the true worth of what we have, the good things that are near to us - which we consider worthless.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-1093670052153159410?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/1093670052153159410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=1093670052153159410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/1093670052153159410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/1093670052153159410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/08/lady-in-her-wanderings-came-across.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-6501076460961923777</id><published>2010-08-01T12:14:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-08-01T12:24:02.583+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have failed many times in life in all aspects. &lt;br /&gt;But I am happy that it has given me some learnings.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it has given me bitterness at heart, disillusionment, and cynicism - which may drag me down. But all of this is hugely compensated by having that one realization - that to be truly successful in the long run (and which means truly happy), one has to be a good, kind human being - sincerely care about the people around you and love unconditionally. The greatest gift of God is the gift of love.&lt;br /&gt;I am still way far from putting this into action, from being such a person - but at least realization is the first step.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-6501076460961923777?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6501076460961923777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=6501076460961923777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6501076460961923777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6501076460961923777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-have-failed-many-times-in-life-in-all.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-5704211234469146530</id><published>2010-07-30T01:00:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-07-30T01:11:10.404+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Just saw this movie "Two Weeks Notice" and I realized that if only I was as filthy rich as Hugh Grant's character in that movie, then I could have the kind of woman I want. I mean - there is some peculiar kind of women, whom I find desirable, but who generally don't find me desirable. I have been trying to analyze what's their peculiarity, but not with much success. Anyways, I am quite sure a bit of wealth and power would do me no harm in gaining interest of a woman of this kind. Of course, there's a quandary (there always is!) - if I were that rich, I would attract all kinds of women and I wouldn't know which is which i.e. which is the right kind of woman. Hmm... all things considered, I think I am better off as I am - at least I know when I really come across the kind of woman I desire. And knowing and having no choice is better than not knowing and having too much choice - at least one doesn't have the opportunity to make a wrong decision. Ah! well - now even that's debatable. I guess, I am confused. God only knows!&lt;br /&gt;Anyways its not as if I have any option and its time to sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-5704211234469146530?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/5704211234469146530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=5704211234469146530' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/5704211234469146530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/5704211234469146530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/07/just-saw-this-movie-two-weeks-notice.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-4743277067360041950</id><published>2010-07-29T09:56:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-07-29T10:13:02.298+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Season of Sunshine</title><content type='html'>And then the season will pass,&lt;br /&gt;And then the sun will shine again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the dark clouds melt away&lt;br /&gt;And then it will be bright again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then you'll find it, my love&lt;br /&gt;Which that storm had blown away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luhla laalaah la &lt;br /&gt;Luhla lalaala laaluh la&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(For once its not that sun in the skies, but a lady who shines like the sun for me, who made me feel thus - my Moon-faced Sunshine)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-4743277067360041950?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4743277067360041950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=4743277067360041950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/4743277067360041950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/4743277067360041950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/07/season-of-sunshine.html' title='Season of Sunshine'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-4260660617595668959</id><published>2010-07-28T01:41:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2010-07-28T02:38:36.247+05:30</updated><title type='text'>A lesson learnt in Sales</title><content type='html'>On Monday evening, I called one of my stockists Mr Suresh, a very demanding person and also what one would classify as a big "whiner". Objective was to convince him to support one scheme and purchase a huge amount of stocks. However he had issues, as usual and as usual he started with the issues of why it was impossible for him to take any stock, how competition was worse, so on and so forth. I heard him out over the phone and then told him that I would meet him personally the next day morning. He was not much positive overall and based on this conversation, neither was I. But being a hard-bitten sales-professional, who has seen as tough scenarios as its possible to see, its never in me to give up without an attempt - I would try just for the heck of it, even if its a hopeless case (I think that's the only reason, I have been successful in sales :P). So today morning, dutifully I went to meet Mr Suresh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now there are certain things, which I do instinctively - I don't know why - but which in retrospect actually work to my success. First of all, before he broached the controversial subject, I broached it myself - giving him a chance to complain and vent it out, if not anything else, while I nodded my head neither agreeing with him, but nor wholly disagreeing with him. Where I could agree with him, I make the right noises, where I couldn't I maintain a stony silence, watching him carefully (at present I am viewing my actions as an objective silent viewer). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, you told me yesterday, XYZ co is operating a 9+1 scheme in the market. Is that correct?" I opened the topic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, that's what I heard yesterday through one of my salesmen. You can understand my difficulty. How can I operate in such a scenario."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shake my head in disbelief, "Sir, how could he manage to do this! Surely he would have got the scheme from somebody" (Aside - I know how XYZ is doing this, in case the information is correct, and where he is getting the scheme from for I arranged the same)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sir, market moves very fast. See how quickly he is operating the scheme in the market, while I haven't even received it yet!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Mr Suresh dials a number on phone (that of one of his salesmen) and enquires about this 9+1 offer. He gets some information. Now for me this, in itself is a moment of victory. Mr Suresh takes me quite seriously to ensure that he is sure about his information coz I have put a seed of doubt in his mind by my earlier statement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After finishing the call, he turns back to me, "Sir, its actually ABC co who is floating the scheme and he has done it with Vanaja Pharmacy"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I relax a bit coz XYZ was more controversial than ABC. ABC is kinda a known enemy and Mr Suresh is slightly on a loose ground whining about ABC to me. I pounce upon the opportunity, in a logical manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hmm - you could also operate 9+1, if you wish. That's why I am asking you to meet your purchase target."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sir, you tell me how 9+1 is possible" he does some mathematics and shows me that the scheme I am promising him works out to 9.33+1, so hence slightly lower scheme than 9+1, which makes it logically difficult for Mr Suresh to float in market and compete. But then I know that he needn't do that with every retailer. But I chose to keep quiet. When two logical people speak to each other, its not imperative to put all the logic onto the table. I use a slightly different tack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sir, we can always give a better scheme to big volume purchasers. That way we ensure better sales turnover"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But Vanaja Pharmacy is not a big retailer and yet ABC is giving there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could see arguing on Vanaja Pharmacy as a potential landmine that could scuttle the entire discussion against my favor, so I try a different sort of appeal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sir, you know very well the support we give to you through our salesman. How can we do that, if we don't have the right scheme with you to get you more orders." (I didnt realize it then, but later on, through one of the statements of Suresh, I am inclined to believe that it was this argument which clinched the argument or rather discussion in my favor)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I continued, "Secondly, next month we are going to have advertisements, which will greatly impact the sales, as you very well know. So whether there is competition or not, you are in great position to easily liquidate the stocks you are purchasing now and also derive higher profit. In fact in entire Bangalore, there are only two stockists, who have done the target and hence can compete with you (a patently false statement, but since he can never ascertain the truth, it doesn't matter - rather its a confidence building measure)"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who are the other two"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"ABC is one" pat comes my reply (and this is true :D)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No wonder he is floating the scheme in market"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I nod my head in agreement&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So we can also do 9+1 in the market"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You can also do that, no problem. But we can do it selectively for better results"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr Suresh sits back and thinks and then he turns the stock statement report back to him to have a look and looks up at me in a moment, with the indication that I can take down his order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ask no questions, make no further explanations and ask my colleague to take out the order book to note down the order. The order is taken and Suresh purchases to meet his target. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is that moment, where I could see clearly that I have convinced him. It is rare in one's life that we could convince another person from a totally opposite view. Sales career gives plenty of such opportunities, in fact necessitates this. &lt;br /&gt;I am not overly proud about my accomplishments. I know people give the regard due to my position - but I also know that I do more than enough to capably fill my position to enable people to give me that regard. I have done enough to earn people's trust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I smoothly utter lies - I never fail to meet a commitment given. That is the bedrock of my credibility. Mr Suresh knows that he can trust me, when I tell him that he will liquidate his stocks next month. Whatever other lies I utter doesn't matter in front of this overarching, most important business truth which is required by him. I give him that assurance. Sometimes don't we reassure children who suffer a bad nightmare by some happy scenarios, which are clearly false - but which calms them down, makes them happy, relieves them of their fear. Sales is about being practical, focusing on the essentials and earning people's trust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was just an example of what I am practically doing day in day out, with lesser or greater success. But it is uncharacteristic for me, considering what I was a few years back. So much so, that it surprises me, how much people have come to trust me, and how much I can manage to convince people. People just rely me on my word! I think back and realize, its because I have never failed to meet any of my commitments, even during my worse days. I always put my commitment to them, before anything else. At that time I did it just as matter of habit, because I dont like to go back on my word. But in the last 2-3 months, I have realized its worth, its incredible worth!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-4260660617595668959?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4260660617595668959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=4260660617595668959' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/4260660617595668959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/4260660617595668959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/07/lesson-learnt-in-sales.html' title='A lesson learnt in Sales'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-7465986212297319374</id><published>2010-07-26T00:38:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-07-26T01:09:22.830+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Pursuit of Happiness</title><content type='html'>Tired of being in eternal quest&lt;br /&gt;Tired of this unending struggle&lt;br /&gt;Weary of being something, doing something&lt;br /&gt;That doesn't come naturally to me&lt;br /&gt;That isn't me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, life's biggest lesson,&lt;br /&gt;The age-old lesson, which we all arrive at&lt;br /&gt;sooner or later is to be&lt;br /&gt;the best of what you can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That success doesn't come &lt;br /&gt;from following different ways&lt;br /&gt;but from trusting one way &lt;br /&gt;through the easy stretches and the hard days&lt;br /&gt;weathering out the unavoidable delays&lt;br /&gt;Staying put when running would be the option&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for the dawn's golden ray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That one has to trust one's instinct&lt;br /&gt;and then let go... &lt;br /&gt;- no doubts, no second thoughts,&lt;br /&gt;just allow oneself to go with the flow&lt;br /&gt;To plunge thus into the sea of life&lt;br /&gt;Letting it find us our Destined shore&lt;br /&gt;Accepting with grace wherever it may be&lt;br /&gt;For we all have choice of our way&lt;br /&gt;But then we got to trust our Destiny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But above all, to trust that the Good Lord&lt;br /&gt;In His Wisdom would have Given every creature&lt;br /&gt;high and low, a real fair chance,&lt;br /&gt;that He would have Blessed every nature &lt;br /&gt;with enough strengths and frailties&lt;br /&gt;to suffer and learn, then to grow and succeed,&lt;br /&gt;and reach a stage, that each of them, deserves to reach&lt;br /&gt;basis their efforts, and not their nature&lt;br /&gt;in their own, very personal, Pursuit of Happiness&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-7465986212297319374?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/7465986212297319374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=7465986212297319374' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/7465986212297319374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/7465986212297319374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/07/pursuit-of-happiness.html' title='Pursuit of Happiness'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-8726898540519202535</id><published>2010-07-25T11:15:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-07-25T11:18:27.543+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We can never imagine&lt;br /&gt;how times would change&lt;br /&gt;the way the world moves&lt;br /&gt;the way people would age&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-8726898540519202535?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8726898540519202535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=8726898540519202535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8726898540519202535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8726898540519202535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/07/we-can-never-imagine-how-times-would.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-6330410589382870333</id><published>2010-07-11T23:42:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-07-11T23:59:29.943+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Tearjerkers</title><content type='html'>Something just struck me suddenly right now like - Voila!!&lt;br /&gt;I realized what it is that brings tears to my eyes (apart from onions that is) - in short what moves me emotionally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, it doesn't sound much manly - boys don't cry and all that.&lt;br /&gt;But hey, I only get attracted to women and I can't think like one - enough proof to suggest I'm masculine enough. And also I'm a man who has always loved romantic novels (except lately) - so yeah, your truly can cry and is safely man enough. Anyways, I am getting distracted over here. The point is what moves me emotionally...sufficiently enough to bring tears to my eyes - and I realized that its when someone's being just nice, showing goodness of heart, plain ol' selfless spirit, showing courage and high moral values, and loving someone more than oneself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes'day I was watching this movie "Just My Luck" and towards the end both the protagonists are willing to kiss each other to transfer their good luck to the other person - Oh! so romantic, Oh so nice!! I remember the climaxes of "Courage Under Fire" and "Glory" bringing tears to my eyes like no other flicks ever did - by plain depiction of courage, of selfless spirit, of putting others before one, of doing one's duty, an' discharging one's responsibility. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess, old and cynical though I have grown to be - very much a sceptic of romantic values - it makes me happy that still, deep down I appreciate them, I admire them. I am happy that I admire, I value the right things even if I may not always live by them. I know I'm dirty, but I know what its to be clean and that cleanliness is better. That leaves at least a small trace of hope to live life with. :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-6330410589382870333?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6330410589382870333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=6330410589382870333' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6330410589382870333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6330410589382870333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/07/tearjerkers.html' title='Tearjerkers'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-298688971041884360</id><published>2010-07-11T22:05:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2010-07-11T22:06:05.521+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Love is nothing but a chemically induced mental condition,&lt;br /&gt;But damn! when it happens - it defies all description!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-298688971041884360?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/298688971041884360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=298688971041884360' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/298688971041884360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/298688971041884360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/07/love-is-nothing-but-chemically-induced.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-323352596593787163</id><published>2010-07-11T11:57:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2010-07-11T12:00:40.589+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>After an age, most philosophies look foolish,&lt;br /&gt;Hence I would rather not philosophize.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-323352596593787163?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/323352596593787163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=323352596593787163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/323352596593787163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/323352596593787163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/07/after-age-most-philosophies-look.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-6628437721118118255</id><published>2010-07-10T22:08:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2010-07-10T22:09:18.263+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There used to be an age when love stories were simple and sweet&lt;br /&gt;And now an age has come, when they aren't stories anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-6628437721118118255?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6628437721118118255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=6628437721118118255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6628437721118118255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6628437721118118255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/07/there-used-to-be-age-when-love-stories.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-4812225290240333351</id><published>2010-07-09T00:59:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-07-09T01:04:48.973+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The Lord always gives more than we require&lt;br /&gt;He takes care of us in ways we cannot even imagine&lt;br /&gt;He gives us loneliness, so that we can feel closeness with Him.&lt;br /&gt;He is always kind and merciful&lt;br /&gt;Bismillah ir-Rahman ir-Rahim&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-4812225290240333351?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4812225290240333351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=4812225290240333351' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/4812225290240333351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/4812225290240333351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/07/lord-always-gives-more-than-we-require.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-7057828239454644881</id><published>2010-07-08T02:07:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2010-07-08T02:28:32.493+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Akbar</title><content type='html'>Many centuries ago, one evening, as moon rose up in the twilight sky,&lt;br /&gt;A king, beleaguered by Fate, held court inside a spacious regal tent,&lt;br /&gt;somewhere in the plains of Northern India.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A fierce gust of wind suddenly blew out all the candles, &lt;br /&gt;plunging the tent into darkness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an urgent call spread out to dispel the darkness,&lt;br /&gt;a lady came in with a lamp in hand, &lt;br /&gt;and set about lighting the candles one by one,&lt;br /&gt;dispelling the darkness little by little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nimbly she moved to the king's side and then lighted the candle closest to him.&lt;br /&gt;And as the light flickered between them, &lt;br /&gt;for the first time in his life,&lt;br /&gt;Mirza Humayun, Padshah of Hindustan set his eyes upon &lt;br /&gt;the moon-faced Hamida Bano Begum,&lt;br /&gt;even as her heavenly counterpart shined in the skies above in the form of a crescent. And his fate changed forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus began the story of Jalal-ud-din Muhammad Akbar - the son of these two lovers drawn together by Fate.&lt;br /&gt;Akbar - who went on to become one of the biggest whirlwinds of Indian history.&lt;br /&gt;And it all started just with a gust of wind, &lt;br /&gt;inside a tent, somewhere in the plains of Northern India, &lt;br /&gt;many centuries ago...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-7057828239454644881?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/7057828239454644881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=7057828239454644881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/7057828239454644881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/7057828239454644881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/07/akbar.html' title='Akbar'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-7477340317026403899</id><published>2010-07-07T23:39:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-07-07T23:44:54.463+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The Sun</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Suraj hoon, zindagi ki ramak chhod jaunga&lt;br /&gt;Main doob bhi gaya toh shafak chhod jaunga"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The grand opening lines of title music of the mega-serial "Akbar the Great" telecasted on Doordarshan in the 90s. The title music is rousing and majestic. It truly raises one's spirits - hail Naushad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Sun I am, the seeds of life I shall sow&lt;br /&gt;Even as I set, will leave behind an afterglow&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-7477340317026403899?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/7477340317026403899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=7477340317026403899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/7477340317026403899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/7477340317026403899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/07/suraj-hoon-zindagi-ki-ramak-chhod.html' title='The Sun'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-451227653170288646</id><published>2010-07-05T00:47:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-07-05T01:07:01.171+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ruswa kyon ho is zindagi se&lt;br /&gt;Kya rooth gaye ho apne aap se&lt;br /&gt;Dilbar dekhon meri nazron se&lt;br /&gt;Koi aur nahi pyaara tumse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meri ankhon se dekh kar&lt;br /&gt;Aap hi se pyar karne lagoge&lt;br /&gt;Kitni khushi dete ho dekh kar&lt;br /&gt;Tum apna gham bhula baithoge&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Itna pyar karoge jaanam&lt;br /&gt;Ki zindagi mein kabhi&lt;br /&gt;Itna pyar na kiya hoga&lt;br /&gt;Tumne apne aap se bhi&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-451227653170288646?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/451227653170288646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=451227653170288646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/451227653170288646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/451227653170288646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/07/ruswa-kyon-ho-is-zindagi-se-kya-rooth.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-5885792721406461549</id><published>2010-07-01T23:42:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-07-01T23:55:49.006+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>And so things are back to square one!&lt;br /&gt;Oh! so you think there's nothing great about it??&lt;br /&gt;Well, I tell you, when your life is going round in circles, &lt;br /&gt;Square one is the best place to be! &lt;br /&gt;Take my word for it - being in Square One, you would consider yourself fortunate.&lt;br /&gt;At least you know where you stand - SQUARE ONE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-5885792721406461549?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/5885792721406461549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=5885792721406461549' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/5885792721406461549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/5885792721406461549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/07/and-so-things-are-back-to-square-one-oh.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-9135942525668946388</id><published>2010-06-30T23:53:00.007+05:30</published><updated>2010-07-04T11:24:25.833+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Song: En Kadhal Solla (Tamil)&lt;br /&gt;Film: Paiya&lt;br /&gt;Music: Yuvan Shankar Raja&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Attempting a more poetical translation than the one posted earlier. Its incomplete - finished the first five stanzas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;En kadhal solla neram illai&lt;br /&gt;un kadhal solla thevai illai&lt;br /&gt;nam kadhal solla vaarthai illai&lt;br /&gt;unmai maraithaalum maraiyaadhadi&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No right moment to declare my love&lt;br /&gt;No need either for a declaration by you&lt;br /&gt;Words may fail to describe it, yet&lt;br /&gt;It cant be hidden that my love is true&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Un kaiyil sera engavillai&lt;br /&gt;un tholil saaya aasaiyillai&lt;br /&gt;nee pona pimbu sogam illai&lt;br /&gt;endru poi solla theriyadhadi&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I yearn not to be with you&lt;br /&gt;I do not need to depend upon you&lt;br /&gt;Leave me, and I wont pine"&lt;br /&gt;Wish I knew how to utter such lies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Un azhagale un azhagale&lt;br /&gt;en veyil kaalam adhu mazhai kaalam&lt;br /&gt;un kanavale un kanavale&lt;br /&gt;manam alaipaayum mella kudai saayum&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah! such breathtaking beauty&lt;br /&gt;That rains love in my heart desolate&lt;br /&gt;Dreams, Oh such wonderful dreams!&lt;br /&gt;Overwhelm me in waves that wont abate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kaatrodu kai veesi nee pesinaal&lt;br /&gt;endhan nenjodu puyal veesudhe&lt;br /&gt;vayadhodum manadhodum sollamale&lt;br /&gt;sila ennangal valai veesudhe&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;kadhal vandhale kannodu dhan&lt;br /&gt;kallathanam vandhu kudi yerumo&lt;br /&gt;konjam nadithenadi konjam thudithenadi&lt;br /&gt;indha vilayaattai rasithenadi&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ye sylph your breezy moves,&lt;br /&gt;play my heart like it was a flute&lt;br /&gt;Body and mind dance to your tunes&lt;br /&gt;Leaving me just a spectator mute&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love has as if unbeknownst to myself&lt;br /&gt;brought some playful mischief to my eyes&lt;br /&gt;I pretended otherwise, tormented myself&lt;br /&gt;Yet found this playful torment to be nice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Un vizhiyaale un vizhiyaale&lt;br /&gt;en vazhi maarum kan thadumaarum&lt;br /&gt;adi idhu yedho oru pudhu yekkam&lt;br /&gt;idhu valithalum nenjam adhai yerkum&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One look of you, ye temptress&lt;br /&gt;Changes my course, tempts me like nothing else&lt;br /&gt;What sort of yearning is this&lt;br /&gt;Where the heart aches so much, yet yearns for more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oru vaarthai pesamal enai paaradi&lt;br /&gt;undhan nimidangal neelatume&lt;br /&gt;veredhum ninaikaamal vizhi moodadi&lt;br /&gt;endhan nerukangal thodaratume&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;yaarum paakkamal enai paarkiren&lt;br /&gt;ennai ariyamal unai paarkiren&lt;br /&gt;siru pilaiyena endhan imaigal adhu&lt;br /&gt;unai kandaale gudhikindradhe&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hush! my dear, say no word&lt;br /&gt;Let the moments pass, and silence lengthen&lt;br /&gt;Think of nothing else, just close your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Allow my burning passion to at least touch you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I am aware of myself, I realize that&lt;br /&gt;I am always gazing at you with longing eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;En adhigaalai en adhigaalai&lt;br /&gt;un mugam paarthu dhinam yezha vendum&lt;br /&gt;en andhi malai en andhi malai&lt;br /&gt;un madi saiyndhu dhinam vizha vendum&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My only wish remains&lt;br /&gt;that everyday my day dawns with your sight&lt;br /&gt;and the evening sets resting on your lap&lt;br /&gt;watching the setting sun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-9135942525668946388?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/9135942525668946388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=9135942525668946388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/9135942525668946388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/9135942525668946388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/song-en-kadhal-solla-tamil-film-paiya_30.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-3060540801409598917</id><published>2010-06-30T23:45:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-30T23:47:19.347+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am addicted to thinking about her like a chain smoker to cigarette...quite difficult to quit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-3060540801409598917?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3060540801409598917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=3060540801409598917' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3060540801409598917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3060540801409598917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-am-addicted-to-thinking-about-her.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-2941995049886150411</id><published>2010-06-30T23:33:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-30T23:33:40.142+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have never been a good student...but the only reason I rue it is coz I don't learn the lessons of love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-2941995049886150411?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2941995049886150411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=2941995049886150411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/2941995049886150411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/2941995049886150411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-have-never-been-good-student.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-5176418661870377584</id><published>2010-06-30T18:21:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-30T19:14:11.575+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Song: En Kadhal Solla (Tamil)&lt;br /&gt;Film: Paiya&lt;br /&gt;Music: Yuvan Shankar Raja&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Found the lyrics very meaningful and beautifully expressive. I havent tried to be very poetical with the translation, just focussed on conveying the meaning in right spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;En kadhal solla neram illai&lt;br /&gt;un kadhal solla thevai illai&lt;br /&gt;nam kadhal solla vaarthai illai&lt;br /&gt;unmai maraithaalum maraiyaadhadi&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cant find the right moment&lt;br /&gt;To express my love&lt;br /&gt;And I'm so crazy about you&lt;br /&gt;That my love is enough for both of us&lt;br /&gt;Are there any right words&lt;br /&gt;To define this love&lt;br /&gt;I know only this much, try as I may&lt;br /&gt;I can never forget you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Un kaiyil sera engavillai&lt;br /&gt;un tholil saaya aasaiyillai&lt;br /&gt;nee pona pimbu sogam illai&lt;br /&gt;endru poi solla theriyadhadi&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I am not desperate for you&lt;br /&gt;And I can live without you&lt;br /&gt;Leave if you wish, I shall not suffer&lt;br /&gt;Ah! If only I could lie this easily!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Un azhagale un azhagale&lt;br /&gt;en veyil kaalam adhu mazhai kaalam&lt;br /&gt;un kanavale un kanavale&lt;br /&gt;manam alaipaayum mella kudai saayum&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your sight is like a breeze &lt;br /&gt;that can cool the scorching summer&lt;br /&gt;Your dreams, well up emotions in the heart so much,&lt;br /&gt;that I feel choked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kaatrodu kai veesi nee pesinaal&lt;br /&gt;endhan nenjodu puyal veesudhe&lt;br /&gt;vayadhodum manadhodum sollamale&lt;br /&gt;sila ennangal valai veesudhe&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;kadhal vandhale kannodu dhan&lt;br /&gt;kallathanam vandhu kudi yerumo&lt;br /&gt;konjam nadithenadi konjam thudithenadi&lt;br /&gt;indha vilayaattai rasithenadi&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you prance breezily here and there&lt;br /&gt;Its as if the winds play the flute of my heart&lt;br /&gt;Its as if every part of my body&lt;br /&gt;is beyond my control and dances to your tune&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What sort of mischief does this love&lt;br /&gt;play with my mind and heart&lt;br /&gt;I played along, I got tormented too&lt;br /&gt;Yet I cannot deny that I enjoyed every moment of it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Un vizhiyaale un vizhiyaale&lt;br /&gt;en vazhi maarum kan thadumaarum&lt;br /&gt;adi idhu yedho oru pudhu yekkam&lt;br /&gt;idhu valithalum nenjam adhai yerkum&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One look of you, ye temptress&lt;br /&gt;Changes my course, tempts me like nothing else&lt;br /&gt;What sort of yearning is this&lt;br /&gt;Where the heart aches so much, yet yearns for more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oru vaarthai pesamal enai paaradi&lt;br /&gt;undhan nimidangal neelatume&lt;br /&gt;veredhum ninaikaamal vizhi moodadi&lt;br /&gt;endhan nerukangal thodaratume&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;yaarum paakkamal enai paarkiren&lt;br /&gt;ennai ariyamal unai paarkiren&lt;br /&gt;siru pilaiyena endhan imaigal adhu&lt;br /&gt;unai kandaale gudhikindradhe&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hush! my dear, say no word&lt;br /&gt;Let the moments pass, and silence lengthen&lt;br /&gt;Think of nothing else, just close your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Allow my burning passion to at least touch you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I am aware of myself, I realize that&lt;br /&gt;I am always gazing at you with longing eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;En adhigaalai en adhigaalai&lt;br /&gt;un mugam paarthu dhinam yezha vendum&lt;br /&gt;en andhi malai en andhi malai&lt;br /&gt;un madi saiyndhu dhinam vizha vendum&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My only wish remains&lt;br /&gt;that everyday my day dawns with your sight&lt;br /&gt;and the evening sets resting on your lap&lt;br /&gt;watching the setting sun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-5176418661870377584?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/5176418661870377584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=5176418661870377584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/5176418661870377584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/5176418661870377584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/song-en-kadhal-solla-tamil-film-paiya.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-1836543106997069109</id><published>2010-06-29T22:39:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-29T22:49:51.038+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Distracting muse</title><content type='html'>She would seem less of my muse and more of a distraction?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now that the distraction has become the object of concentration&lt;br /&gt;She has become my muse by being my distraction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-1836543106997069109?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/1836543106997069109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=1836543106997069109' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/1836543106997069109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/1836543106997069109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/distracting-muse.html' title='Distracting muse'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-9219878560837192334</id><published>2010-06-28T23:45:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-28T23:46:56.900+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Patience does not mean to passively endure. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;It means to be farsighted enough to trust the end result of a process.&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does patience mean? It means to look at the thorn and see the rose, to look at the night and see the dawn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Impatience means to be so shortsighted as to not be able to see the outcome. The lovers of God never run out of patience, for they know that time is  needed for the crescent moon to become full."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elif Shafak, "The Forty Rules of Love"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-9219878560837192334?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/9219878560837192334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=9219878560837192334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/9219878560837192334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/9219878560837192334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/patience-does-not-mean-to-passively.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-6736537527173218719</id><published>2010-06-28T22:16:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-28T22:20:45.361+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Praise be to the Lord!&lt;br /&gt;Who builds our character, by Testing our mettle by challenges and Giving us the strength to overcome them.&lt;br /&gt;Alhamdulillah&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-6736537527173218719?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6736537527173218719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=6736537527173218719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6736537527173218719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6736537527173218719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/praise-be-to-lord-who-builds-our.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-7349758335562039456</id><published>2010-06-27T23:01:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-27T23:04:55.848+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Being calm as the center of a whirlpool&lt;br /&gt;Into which rush furious waves from all around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being receptive as the beach sand, soaked with sea water&lt;br /&gt;Letting the waves of experience wash over&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes white sea shells, sometimes filthy dark mud&lt;br /&gt;Every wave leaves behind its mark&lt;br /&gt;and washes away some sand off the beach&lt;br /&gt;Thus does experience act upon our souls&lt;br /&gt;Peace lies in accepting it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we run after things&lt;br /&gt;Like a dog pursues its tail&lt;br /&gt;The closer it gets, the farther goes the object&lt;br /&gt;When we desperately run after something&lt;br /&gt;It shies away, even if it be a measly tail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man who follows his own heart&lt;br /&gt;Confident, secure in knowledge of his own worth&lt;br /&gt;Even the worlds stops to take notice&lt;br /&gt;and follows such a man.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-7349758335562039456?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/7349758335562039456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=7349758335562039456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/7349758335562039456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/7349758335562039456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/being-calm-as-center-of-whirlpool-into.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-4379022611593098844</id><published>2010-06-27T17:54:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-27T17:58:24.373+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Fret not where the road will take you. Instead concentrate on the first step. That's the hardest part and that's what you are responsible for. Once you take that step let everything do what it naturally does and the rest will folllow. Do not go with the flow. Be The Flow"&lt;br /&gt;- Elif Shafak, "The Forty Rules of Love"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm... makes me think of how to approach my second book. I'm kind of stuck of in a limbo over here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-4379022611593098844?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4379022611593098844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=4379022611593098844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/4379022611593098844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/4379022611593098844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/fret-not-where-road-will-take-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-8208445295183769489</id><published>2010-06-27T17:01:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-27T17:05:15.447+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Try not to resist the changes that come your way. Instead let life live through you. And do not worry that your life is turning upside down. How do you know that the side you are used to, is better than the one to come?&lt;br /&gt;- Elif Shafak in "The Forty Rules of Love"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My comment - its wise, but its easier said than done, but then again - there's no better option either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-8208445295183769489?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8208445295183769489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=8208445295183769489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8208445295183769489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8208445295183769489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/try-not-to-resist-changes-that-come.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-573442862156689950</id><published>2010-06-27T11:22:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-27T11:24:44.481+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The fire of adolescent passion burned for so long&lt;br /&gt;That when it died out, I found myself in late youth&lt;br /&gt;And suddenly all too old for my liking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-573442862156689950?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/573442862156689950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=573442862156689950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/573442862156689950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/573442862156689950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/fire-of-adolescent-passion-burned-for.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-6104135623500027924</id><published>2010-06-24T00:29:00.008+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-24T01:22:51.958+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Confused sentiments</title><content type='html'>A romantic can shrug off romance,&lt;br /&gt;But what would he do without it?&lt;br /&gt;What would an ox do, even if freed,&lt;br /&gt;when the yoke has been part of its entire life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is a bitter pill at times&lt;br /&gt;A horrible and slow torture by fire&lt;br /&gt;But nothing else gives such ecstasy,&lt;br /&gt;Nothing else makes one feel truly alive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My words come out all twisted&lt;br /&gt;Not expressing what I feel&lt;br /&gt;But then do I know what I really feel!&lt;br /&gt;For never before I've felt so confused&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this much I know for sure&lt;br /&gt;She brings peace to my troubled heart&lt;br /&gt;Yet she also creates a storm&lt;br /&gt;that raises huge waves off a quiescent surface&lt;br /&gt;She robs what she gives&lt;br /&gt;And then gives what she robs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is wisdom in going forward,&lt;br /&gt;Or is it in letting her come?&lt;br /&gt;Is wisdom in opening up, accepting,&lt;br /&gt;Or is it in being intriguing?&lt;br /&gt;And why this fixation with being wise!&lt;br /&gt;After all, is it wise to be wise, &lt;br /&gt;Or wise to be a fool?&lt;br /&gt;For she makes me look like a fool, even when I act wisely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Lord! How foolish I am about all this&lt;br /&gt;for I know that she is none the wiser about this than me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only one thing I wish to know,&lt;br /&gt;one thing to bring me peace.&lt;br /&gt;Do I confuse her, O Lord? &lt;br /&gt;As much as she confuses me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-6104135623500027924?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6104135623500027924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=6104135623500027924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6104135623500027924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6104135623500027924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/confused-sentiments.html' title='Confused sentiments'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-3466997881503221113</id><published>2010-06-23T00:37:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-23T00:38:03.138+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Desperate for some movie to really charge me up. I think I seriously require some heroic movie... any suggestions anyone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-3466997881503221113?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3466997881503221113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=3466997881503221113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3466997881503221113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3466997881503221113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/desperate-for-some-movie-to-really.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-1067195035585277668</id><published>2010-06-22T11:21:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-22T12:40:29.450+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh! God, Help me!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a clarification to friends who follow my blog - this is not related to romance.&lt;br /&gt;I am so bored with my job that I am not able to concentrate, even though its a pressure cooker situation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-1067195035585277668?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/1067195035585277668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=1067195035585277668' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/1067195035585277668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/1067195035585277668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/oh-god-help-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-688135744677318495</id><published>2010-06-16T23:25:00.006+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-18T19:33:51.007+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Saahira</title><content type='html'>Ek kaafiyah na likh saka&lt;br /&gt;Jo ek waqt mein shayar tha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ishq ki taaleem di usko&lt;br /&gt;Jo pahuncha huwa aashiq tha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Junoon ka jazbah kya hota hai&lt;br /&gt;Us jaahil ko tab chala pata&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woh bhi ek saahira thi&lt;br /&gt;Jiska deewana yeh Saahir tha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaafiyah - rhyme&lt;br /&gt;taaleem - lessons&lt;br /&gt;saahira - witch... 'Bewitched' am I ;)&lt;br /&gt;Saahir - yours truly's pen name (for this poem at least :D )and literally means wizard. I like the famous lyricist Sahir Ludhiyanvi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-688135744677318495?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/688135744677318495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=688135744677318495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/688135744677318495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/688135744677318495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/ek-kaafiyah-na-likh-saka-jo-ek-waqt.html' title='Saahira'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-7848186695974730194</id><published>2010-06-14T01:04:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-14T01:17:00.603+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Zindagi ke darya kinare chalte chalte&lt;br /&gt;Ek majhi mili apni nayya ke saath&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humko dekh woh muskurayi, nayya nikali&lt;br /&gt;Aur hum nikal pade uske saath&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uske mast nigahon mein dub gaye hum&lt;br /&gt;Dil machal gaya jab usne pakda haath&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kis rukh mude, kis dagar taraf chal diye&lt;br /&gt;Pata naha tha ki woh din tha ya raat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usne kaha "Main Muqaddar hoon tera"&lt;br /&gt;Aur humne bas maanli uski baat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aage peeche ka koyi hosh nahi&lt;br /&gt;Bas chal rahe hain thaame us naseeb ka haath&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-7848186695974730194?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/7848186695974730194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=7848186695974730194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/7848186695974730194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/7848186695974730194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/zindagi-ke-darya-kinare-chalte-chalte.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-3095489228250596369</id><published>2010-06-13T00:44:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-13T00:50:35.386+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Woh hame yaad karte hai,&lt;br /&gt;toh hum unhe bhula nahi paate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unka andaaz dekh kar,&lt;br /&gt;unhe nazarandaaz kar nahi paate&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-3095489228250596369?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3095489228250596369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=3095489228250596369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3095489228250596369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3095489228250596369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/woh-hame-yaad-karte-hai-toh-hum-unhe.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-8836666158551559826</id><published>2010-06-08T19:27:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-08T19:59:38.714+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Sadaaqat</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Teri ulfat mein main sadqe jaoon&lt;br /&gt;Apni hasti se jyaada, aur kya doon sadqah&lt;br /&gt;Agar mahboob nahi toh sadiq hi maan lo&lt;br /&gt;Aur kya saboot chahiye meri sadaaqat ka&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am dedicated to you, my love&lt;br /&gt;What bigger sacrifice can I give than my life&lt;br /&gt;Give me the space of an intimate friend, if not your lover&lt;br /&gt;What more proof you require of my sincerity&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-8836666158551559826?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8836666158551559826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=8836666158551559826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8836666158551559826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8836666158551559826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/sadaaqat.html' title='Sadaaqat'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-6646294200517371361</id><published>2010-06-06T08:43:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-06T11:29:58.672+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Commitment</title><content type='html'>Recently someone, who matters to me, queried me to this effect - "Would you stop valuing someone or something which is important to you, once you have got it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the "someone" part doesnt apply to my past history, I had only "something" to rely on, in order to decide. The most important "something" achieved so far has been finishing my book. It was one initiative, where I put all my heart and soul into it, even when towards the end, I had no heart left at all. I kept focus over a long period of time - in fact finishing it has been my finest achievement, irrespective of it getting published or not. But now it doesnt figure anywhere on top of the list of my important things. Does this then prove the rhetorical question posed above? The answer, I believe, is not really straightforward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To answer this question, I have to start from the other end - i.e. the source, the root. And in my case (as also in most other cases, I believe) the source is passion for someone or something. To give an idea, how passion works, imagine passion as a lake - a finite fount of water, from where flows a stream of thought and feelings which drive us in a particular direction. If, one were to be free and relaxed, then the flow of passion acts on its own propelling a person towards its object and passion is always well-directed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As long as one relies on the flow of the stream, its fine - the involvement in something passionate is one of the most satisfying experiences, believe me! Sometimes, like torrential waterfalls in a rainy season - the flood of thought and feelings could be overwhelming, but then sometimes it can peter down to a thin streak of water. In the latter case, if you are desperate to make things happen, when the flow itself doesnt suffice, then you try to invoke passion. One &lt;strong&gt;forces&lt;/strong&gt; oneself to be passionate and thats when one starts using up that finite fount. Its like pushing water in thousands of gallons out from the lake and trying to create a torrential flow, which is nothing but artificial. One can continue doing this only so much and for so long for soon one would scratching the sand of the lake bed. Something similar happened with my book writing. By the time I finished up with it, I was as tired as Pheidippidis was after running the Marathon and like Pheidippidis, my passion for book-writing died soon after this Marathon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as lakes can be replenished by fresh water from rains or from some new source or channel of water feeding into it, similarly passion can be rejuvenated. After all, all it requires is water - the flow of thoughts and feelings in one specific direction. While I am not much inspired to start writing a book, nowadays I do have this occassional strong flow of thoughts and feelings like days of yore - when I am not restful until I write down what I feel or think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While the analogy seems okay - what does it tell about my character, which, in fact, was what the original question sought to understand. This dependance on an inconsistent passion doesnt flatter me about myself. I admire a guy like Tendulkar who has played the same game since he was 4 years old and professionally for the last 20 years. Would such long-term commitment come without a deep, abiding passion? And yet how can one have such a Pacific Ocean full of passion is mindboggling! I got fizzled out after writing one book and here is this guy, as greedy as ever, even after scoring nearly 30,000 runs at international level! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tendulkar, also seems to be a person, who is committed to his family and relations - the ideal family man. There could be a relation between these two, which links to the kind of man he is. But would this also mean that someone who is not committed on professional field would be similar on the personal relationships? No, I dont think so...Its because with people, unlike inanimate things - there is whole lot of different dimension called reciprocity involved. Books dont react, people do! And their reactions affect us in ways we can neither understand nor foresee. And though passion may be a starting point - with regards to people, over a period of time there are lot of other parameters like attachment, comfort, compatibility that come into reckoning, which create new channels to fill that fount.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So while our founts of professional and personal passions could be related, but they are entirely different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To summarize the answer to the original question - firstly I believe that valuing "someone" and valuing "something" are wholly different questions. You can never be attached to an inanimate thing as a book as you can be to a person. People reciprocate, they are unpredictable, they can move you by their show of care and concern - none of which a book or any other "thing" can do. Also passions towards things, depending upon the nature of a person, can fizzle out, while sentiments towards people, once arisen do not die out as easily - they continuouly get augmented by interactions. Have we not faced situations where someone makes us notice them, simply by the attention they shower on us - we may enjoy it or we may even get irritated - but we cannot be indifferent to it. Secondly - whether it be person or thing - when we start forcing ourselves into feeling for something or someone, instead of allowing our nature to prevail, thats when we start killing that passion, attachment or whatever, by drying up that feeding fount.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-6646294200517371361?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6646294200517371361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=6646294200517371361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6646294200517371361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6646294200517371361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/commitment.html' title='Commitment'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-771167926095985386</id><published>2010-06-04T00:57:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-04T01:03:58.978+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Dil jo keh na saka&lt;br /&gt;wahi raaz-e-dil&lt;br /&gt;kehne ki raat" kab aayegi &lt;br /&gt;- yehi sochte hain hum!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kya woh sahi waqt &lt;br /&gt;kabhi aayega bhi ya nahi&lt;br /&gt;Kya us ghadi mein &lt;br /&gt;woh dabi baatein keh sakege hum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jab itna kuch hai dil mein&lt;br /&gt;Itne umadte armaan qaid hain yehan&lt;br /&gt;To kya kya jata sakege hum&lt;br /&gt;Kya kya kehna theek hoga&lt;br /&gt;Aur kya hamesha ke liye&lt;br /&gt;chupa le apne seene mein hum&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-771167926095985386?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/771167926095985386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=771167926095985386' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/771167926095985386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/771167926095985386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/dil-jo-keh-na-saka-wahi-raaz-e-dil.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-417339055904693709</id><published>2010-06-03T19:07:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-03T20:31:07.554+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dost poochte hai humse &lt;br /&gt;ki kahi ishq ke samundar mein doob toh nahi gaye&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Par jab jhulasne lagege tabhi samjhenge ki pyar huwa hai&lt;br /&gt;Abhi toh bas hum jal rahe hai&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-417339055904693709?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/417339055904693709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=417339055904693709' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/417339055904693709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/417339055904693709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/dost-poochte-hai-humse-ki-kahi-ishq-ke.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-766668142819724286</id><published>2010-06-01T22:52:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-01T23:04:20.352+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It makes me so happy to see &lt;br /&gt;the happiness on your face&lt;br /&gt;I am lost in another world, &lt;br /&gt;lost in your adoring gaze&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing brings me greater cheer, than&lt;br /&gt;listening to your cheerful voice&lt;br /&gt;And that I could be the cause for it&lt;br /&gt;leaves me breathless, bedazed&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-766668142819724286?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/766668142819724286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=766668142819724286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/766668142819724286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/766668142819724286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/it-makes-me-so-happy-to-see-happiness.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-3079534140985450244</id><published>2010-06-01T13:29:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-06-01T13:47:19.544+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Pursuit of Happiness</title><content type='html'>Poochne ke liye hazaar sawaalat hai dil mein&lt;br /&gt;Par jawab seh na paoon, isliye poochtha nahin hoon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The maddening uncertainties are yet a cozy comfort&lt;br /&gt;When compared to the certainty of a harsh reality&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Log kahenge ki yeh asliyat na jhel saka&lt;br /&gt;Isliye apni dhun mein deewana ho chala&lt;br /&gt;Par bas do pal ki khushi hi mil jaaye,&lt;br /&gt;Khushiyon se zaroori aur kya hai bhala&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why should I not live in my own world of dreams&lt;br /&gt;If in a dead soul, this can infuse a spirit anew.&lt;br /&gt;And then perhaps there's the slimmest chance&lt;br /&gt;that this happiness faked may turn out to be true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-3079534140985450244?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3079534140985450244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=3079534140985450244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3079534140985450244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3079534140985450244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/pursuit-of-happiness.html' title='Pursuit of Happiness'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-3978647052478698352</id><published>2010-05-31T02:23:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2010-05-31T09:06:36.255+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Sparks and Embers</title><content type='html'>The sparks of fire by a frenzied friction,&lt;br /&gt;immediate, exciting, ecstatic - but ephemeral&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when those sparks light up the coal&lt;br /&gt;Only gradually does it heaten up&lt;br /&gt;Gradually it envelops one in a comforting warmth&lt;br /&gt;In a bitter, cold winter - a cozy cocoon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The embers of coal, take time to become hot&lt;br /&gt;but once they get flared up, hot and red&lt;br /&gt;their warmth lasts for a very long time&lt;br /&gt;and even many hours later, touch it&lt;br /&gt;and you cannot but feel &lt;br /&gt;the smoldering fire within&lt;br /&gt;which has still not died down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-3978647052478698352?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3978647052478698352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=3978647052478698352' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3978647052478698352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3978647052478698352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/05/sparks-and-embers.html' title='Sparks and Embers'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-4560814203926460173</id><published>2010-05-23T11:27:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-05-23T11:31:42.095+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ab hum apne pasand ko kam&lt;br /&gt;aur unke pasand ko jyaada talab karte hain&lt;br /&gt;aur unhe jo ho napasand usse tauba karte hain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Itni chaahat kyon hain dil mein&lt;br /&gt;Unko samajhne ki, aur jaan ne ki?&lt;br /&gt;Darte hain ki hum unhe pyar karte hain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-4560814203926460173?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4560814203926460173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=4560814203926460173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/4560814203926460173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/4560814203926460173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/05/ab-hum-apne-pasand-ko-kam-aur-unke.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-2816303309975004217</id><published>2010-05-22T20:58:00.006+05:30</published><updated>2010-05-22T21:30:43.090+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Candle light</title><content type='html'>There are times in one's life when nothing simply goes right. Everything that could go wrong goes wrong, and which is practically everything that counts, big or small, trivial or important. I am in that phase of life at present and this is not the first time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One may always feel, why me? Why not somebody else - there are whole lot of somebodies out there whose fucking lives are so smooth! And here I am! These are times that seem specifically designed to make one go crazy, go bonkers literally! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But somehow I have come to believe that Fate tests only those people who have mettle enough to be tested. There is something in me that just doesn't let go. I bow, but never bow out. Yet I bow, because I don't wish to burn myself out, because the storm which blows away the proud, strong oak, carresses past the thin reed, which bows. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For I know, that I am but a tiny creature in the vast sea of Fate, buffetted here and there by huge waves - I am aware of my tininess, my insignificance, yet I shall not let go the will to survive and the hope of staying afloat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was chastised (and rightly so) for recent poor performance by my superior but yet he appreciated my perseverance, resilience and emotional balance in the face of most trying circumstances, and that I never accepted defeat and thats why he values me, sees value in me and trusts me. Such words of appreciation, I have never openly recieved and though the way ahead is still quite dark and no flicker of light in sight, I may just have a small candle with me to give me some warmth on a long, dark journey.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-2816303309975004217?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2816303309975004217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=2816303309975004217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/2816303309975004217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/2816303309975004217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/05/candle-light.html' title='Candle light'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-2349252318314535559</id><published>2010-05-21T06:54:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-05-22T19:17:29.100+05:30</updated><title type='text'>What is love?</title><content type='html'>Woh pyar hi kya hain &lt;br /&gt;jo hame badalne pe majboor na kare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woh pyar hi kya hain &lt;br /&gt;jo asaani se mil jaaye&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woh pyar hi kya hain &lt;br /&gt;jo hame kuch dard, kuch aasoon na de&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woh pyar hi kya hain&lt;br /&gt;jo raaton ki neend na uda de&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kyonki pyar woh khushi hain&lt;br /&gt;jo har khushi ko peeche chhod de&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-2349252318314535559?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2349252318314535559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=2349252318314535559' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/2349252318314535559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/2349252318314535559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/05/what-is-love.html' title='What is love?'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-3349661543495165320</id><published>2010-05-21T06:53:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2010-05-22T09:34:56.717+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Who else but you!</title><content type='html'>Par tum hi batao, aur kise dosh de,&lt;br /&gt;tumhare siva&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Raat ko ghanton tak kis se baat karte hain,&lt;br /&gt;tumhare siva&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uske baad ghanton tak yaad kise karte hain,&lt;br /&gt;tumhare siva&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaun mann hi mann hame rulata bhi hain, hasata bhi hain,&lt;br /&gt;tumhare siva&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ek pal ko jannat bhi aur &lt;br /&gt;bechaini bhari intezaar bhi banaye kaun,&lt;br /&gt;tumhare siva&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-3349661543495165320?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3349661543495165320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=3349661543495165320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3349661543495165320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3349661543495165320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/05/who-else-but-you.html' title='Who else but you!'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-6868703862323434105</id><published>2010-05-18T21:52:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-05-19T00:11:53.949+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Zara soch ae sitamgar dilbar&lt;br /&gt;Ki itne door se bhi tujhe&lt;br /&gt;kheenchta hoon main,&lt;br /&gt;Paas na hokar bhi, har lamha&lt;br /&gt;tere paas hoon main.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soch agar main bas teri &lt;br /&gt;aas paas kahin rahoon,&lt;br /&gt;To kya ho nahi jaoonga&lt;br /&gt;main - tera junoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaise bach sakogi tum&lt;br /&gt;meri adaaon se,&lt;br /&gt;Kahin isliye to na rehti ho &lt;br /&gt;door meri nigahon se.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ki uparwaale ne bhi &lt;br /&gt;apni kismat likhi hain,&lt;br /&gt;Tu hi meri kismat hain&lt;br /&gt;yeh mujhko yakeen hain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-6868703862323434105?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6868703862323434105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=6868703862323434105' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6868703862323434105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6868703862323434105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/05/zara-soch-ae-sitamgar-dilbar-ki-itne.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-3051349486927004057</id><published>2010-05-17T21:44:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-05-17T21:51:42.279+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I liked this line from Friends - Season 1, Ep 12 - The Dozen Lasagnes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rachel just had an explosive split with her charming boyfriend Paolo because he had made a pass at Phoebe (why do girls fall for such guys anyways!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ross goes to comfort Rachel and embracing her, he tells her, "You deserve so much better than him. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You should be with a guy, who knows what he has when he has you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-3051349486927004057?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3051349486927004057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=3051349486927004057' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3051349486927004057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3051349486927004057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-liked-this-line-from-friends-season-1.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-5538503173093999383</id><published>2010-05-16T19:02:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-05-16T19:19:00.529+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Intoxicated</title><content type='html'>Gulped down a few rounds&lt;br /&gt;Then the wretched head swims&lt;br /&gt;Eyes closed, am oblivious&lt;br /&gt;To the world and its whims&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm into my own world,&lt;br /&gt;As the head swirls around,&lt;br /&gt;Sucked by a whirlpool,&lt;br /&gt;I am lost and drowned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel like going down and down &lt;br /&gt;I wish for a breather,&lt;br /&gt;Yet I dont resist it,&lt;br /&gt;For it just doesnt matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When losing oneself is so easy,&lt;br /&gt;And resisting is so difficult,&lt;br /&gt;then why not just get drowned.&lt;br /&gt;And trash all bother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now I can get intoxicated&lt;br /&gt;without even a jot of rum,&lt;br /&gt;For now, &lt;strong&gt;she's&lt;/strong&gt; there to give me the high,&lt;br /&gt;and then make me feel all dumb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet I don't resist the feeling&lt;br /&gt;Though the will is other.&lt;br /&gt;For when losing oneself is so easy,&lt;br /&gt;Then why all this bother.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-5538503173093999383?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/5538503173093999383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=5538503173093999383' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/5538503173093999383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/5538503173093999383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/05/intoxicated.html' title='Intoxicated'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-2355253465965965560</id><published>2010-05-16T09:24:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2010-05-16T09:25:12.083+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Kiss from a rose</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"There is so much a man can tell you, &lt;br /&gt;so much he can say,&lt;br /&gt;You remain - my power, my pleasure, my pain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me you are like a growing addiction,&lt;br /&gt;that I can't deny...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey&lt;br /&gt;the more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing I could write today, could express better what I feel than these words from Seal's "Kiss from a rose". My thanks to the lyricist. I also like the chemistry between Val Kilmer and Nicole Kidman in the video of this song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AMD2TwRvuoU&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-2355253465965965560?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2355253465965965560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=2355253465965965560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/2355253465965965560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/2355253465965965560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/05/kiss-from-rose_16.html' title='Kiss from a rose'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-7552901473527422813</id><published>2010-05-15T13:29:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-05-15T13:33:19.378+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Interesting and boring</title><content type='html'>I know that ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when she starts getting bored by me,&lt;br /&gt;I suddenly become interesting...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just as I am becoming too interesting,&lt;br /&gt;She starts to get bored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its interesting really ... interesting, that I know :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-7552901473527422813?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/7552901473527422813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=7552901473527422813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/7552901473527422813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/7552901473527422813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/05/interesting-and-boring.html' title='Interesting and boring'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-6939416865334267383</id><published>2010-05-12T23:45:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-05-13T00:02:37.654+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Loving you</title><content type='html'>Floating on white clouds,&lt;br /&gt;Like being in heaven,&lt;br /&gt;Minstrels crooning a soulful tune&lt;br /&gt;On cloud eleven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooo...the roses are rosier&lt;br /&gt;And the sky is all blue&lt;br /&gt;Oooo...leaves are bright green&lt;br /&gt;Brighter is every hue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! this wretched life&lt;br /&gt;Has been never so kind&lt;br /&gt;If I wasnt so sane,&lt;br /&gt;think I'd be out of my mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The smooth clear path&lt;br /&gt;The swing in my gait&lt;br /&gt;The whiff of clean air&lt;br /&gt;Oh! my rosiest Fate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby, if my life is good&lt;br /&gt;it is because of you.&lt;br /&gt;Never been so happy &lt;br /&gt;before I loved you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-6939416865334267383?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6939416865334267383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=6939416865334267383' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6939416865334267383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6939416865334267383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/05/loving-you.html' title='Loving you'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-489842096768574372</id><published>2010-05-10T23:19:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-05-10T23:21:30.296+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>When I was younger,&lt;br /&gt;I was interesting,&lt;br /&gt;but did not possess the confidence to exhibit my intelligence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have enough confidence,&lt;br /&gt;but I am no longer interesting enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-489842096768574372?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/489842096768574372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=489842096768574372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/489842096768574372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/489842096768574372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/05/when-i-was-younger-i-was-interesting.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-8478541992542745862</id><published>2010-05-09T15:49:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2010-05-09T15:52:25.693+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>She makes me mad,&lt;br /&gt;Or she makes me ecstatic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now its been...&lt;br /&gt;So many times mad and&lt;br /&gt;So many times ecstatic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That the boundaries are blurred,&lt;br /&gt;feels one and the same&lt;br /&gt;ecstatically mad or madly ecstatic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-8478541992542745862?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8478541992542745862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=8478541992542745862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8478541992542745862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8478541992542745862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/05/she-makes-me-mad-or-she-makes-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-1450505821670203650</id><published>2010-04-29T22:06:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-04-29T22:45:04.823+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There is not a soul I would like to talk to, at this moment, but you.&lt;br /&gt;I feel there is so much inside that I wish to share, only with you.&lt;br /&gt;Yet I don't know what it is, that I wish to talk with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The street lights are bright and near, as are so many well-meaning good friends.&lt;br /&gt;Yet it is that distant, aloof moon, hidden behind clouds, that holds charm for me.&lt;br /&gt;Who else is that moon for me, but you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-1450505821670203650?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/1450505821670203650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=1450505821670203650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/1450505821670203650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/1450505821670203650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/04/there-is-not-soul-i-would-like-to-talk.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-4669141105865279304</id><published>2010-04-29T18:41:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-04-29T22:44:25.684+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>True love is God's will upon us.&lt;br /&gt;If He wills, it shall be reciprocated.&lt;br /&gt;If He doesn't will, then it's not.&lt;br /&gt;But whatever it may be, it is His benediction, His gift to us,&lt;br /&gt;to be accepted by us with all humility and grace.&lt;br /&gt;In matters of heart - listen to the heart - for it shows the true way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-4669141105865279304?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4669141105865279304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=4669141105865279304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/4669141105865279304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/4669141105865279304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/04/true-love-is-gods-will-upon-us.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-7341011969639323421</id><published>2010-04-29T07:19:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2010-04-29T07:33:52.977+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Whatever happens, &lt;br /&gt;This heart is destined to shatter in a thousand pieces&lt;br /&gt;Wish only, that there is then heart enough&lt;br /&gt;To gather the shards and make it up whole again&lt;br /&gt;They would say, "Its back to square one"&lt;br /&gt;But I know things will never remain the same...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These moments rich with pleasure and pain&lt;br /&gt;The wholehearted efforts that go in vain&lt;br /&gt;Being driven to insanity keeps me sane&lt;br /&gt;This is the dream I live in now,&lt;br /&gt;But which shall end, sooner or later&lt;br /&gt;And never come again.&lt;br /&gt;Such an immeasurable loss!&lt;br /&gt;Then how could things be the same...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-7341011969639323421?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/7341011969639323421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=7341011969639323421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/7341011969639323421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/7341011969639323421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/04/whatever-happens-this-heart-is-destined.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-8285876569284665451</id><published>2010-04-27T23:26:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-04-28T00:19:41.957+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Wanting her</title><content type='html'>I will put all material achievements, assets, money, position aside for her love and regard. I am happy that there is someone at least like this, who makes me feel thus...even if I have little chance of getting what I wish for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I dont feel want of anything else, want of her keeps me sane. But then, wanting her too much drives me insane too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I manage myself by living in the present - savoring what she brings for me at this moment - living tonight, as if tommorrow doesnt exist at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passion knows no language but the language of passion itself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-8285876569284665451?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8285876569284665451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=8285876569284665451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8285876569284665451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8285876569284665451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/04/wanting-her.html' title='Wanting her'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-6096479820145948469</id><published>2010-04-20T21:53:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-04-20T22:04:17.110+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"You are not hurt Watson? For God's sake, say that you are not hurt!"&lt;br /&gt;It was worth a wound - it was worth many wounds - to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask. The clear, hard eyes were dimmed for a moment, and the firm lips were shaking...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably the most sentimental lines in the entire set of stories featuring the pioneering detective Sherlock Holmes and his loyal aide and friend Dr. John Watson.&lt;br /&gt;It is their rarity that makes these lines precious and every word worth a gem. In the cold, arid desert of Holmes' brainy explorations, they are few spots of oases and even though there are just a couple of date palms and probably a smallish pond there, yet they are that much more worth considering the contrast with a limitless desert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally I enjoy Holmes' stories because of the minutely sketched characterization, of the sparseness of words yet the richness of expression.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-6096479820145948469?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6096479820145948469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=6096479820145948469' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6096479820145948469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/6096479820145948469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/04/you-are-not-hurt-watson-for-gods-sake.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-8172260305300008586</id><published>2010-04-20T17:17:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-04-20T17:23:35.153+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There are those occassions in life, that come once in a while, when one single thing, something very very particular can change your life completely, can make you happy, ecstatic beyond imagination - its something you would die for and you would die without. You look forward to it with such fervent hope as you would not even look towards Salvation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my life, on such occassions, less than half of the time (which is quite a good proportion)on professional front I have got them. Regarding personal front, in matter of relationships particularly - never, it has been a case of complete failure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet I take solace from the fact that at least there are those moments when someone in particular can make my life - a truly heavenly experience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-8172260305300008586?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8172260305300008586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=8172260305300008586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8172260305300008586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8172260305300008586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/04/there-are-those-occassions-in-life-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-1568730052813461155</id><published>2010-04-20T01:20:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2010-04-20T01:22:09.579+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We sometimes think our actions are bound by Fate, but its only the outcomes that Fate influences. If we are strong and wise enough, our actions are entirely under our control. A man who acts without worrying about outcomes, without getting distracted or affected by them is a courageous, purposeful man. Fascinating tha...t even today in soul-searching moments, we look back to the age-old truths of the Bhagavad Gita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some important decisions upon which I acted. I considered them as important and once I did that I didnt worry whether I will get the outcome or not, I just went after executing what I planned - the outcomes followed. Those have been the times when I have been most effective and satisfied.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-1568730052813461155?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/1568730052813461155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=1568730052813461155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/1568730052813461155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/1568730052813461155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/04/we-sometimes-think-our-actions-are.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-2839823728407243857</id><published>2010-03-01T15:34:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-03-01T20:01:50.377+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Peed ki aag mein&lt;br /&gt;Mera junoon nikhar jaayega&lt;br /&gt;Har pyaar ko chaka chaund kar de&lt;br /&gt;Aisa heera ubhar aayega &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doston ne aagaah kiya jis se&lt;br /&gt;Bairon ne fayda kiya jis se&lt;br /&gt;Phir bhi khele humne apne anjam se&lt;br /&gt;Deewangi hi to kehte hain ise&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-2839823728407243857?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2839823728407243857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=2839823728407243857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/2839823728407243857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/2839823728407243857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/03/peed-ki-aag-mein-mera-junoon-nikhar.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-7573978955919575239</id><published>2010-02-10T00:14:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-02-10T00:30:52.436+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Attraction dilemma</title><content type='html'>What does one do with a pretty girl one is attracted to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ignore her for she is never going to be attracted to you anyway&lt;br /&gt;But then it would become a self-fulfilling prophecy&lt;br /&gt;and you would always feel that you could have made an attempt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or the other option is to try and somehow grab her attention....hoping she would notice you, then like you and perhaps things may develop from there.&lt;br /&gt;But then the more you give attention to a girl, the more self-important she feels&lt;br /&gt;the more she takes you for granted and you end up becoming worse than a worthless slave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then you do nothing - you neither ignore her, nor go after her.&lt;br /&gt;Then what happens?&lt;br /&gt;Well - here's a scenario&lt;br /&gt;She will put a fresh worm at the end of the line to catch the fish thats u.&lt;br /&gt;Not that she is interested in you, but that she wants you to be interested in her&lt;br /&gt;...Why?? Well, just for the heck of it. Even she doesnt know why...&lt;br /&gt;And then when you are hooked and struggling to break free, she wonders what to do with you, to release you or grab you ...and the game begins again....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-7573978955919575239?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/7573978955919575239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=7573978955919575239' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/7573978955919575239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/7573978955919575239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/02/attraction-dilemma.html' title='Attraction dilemma'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-2826790439576887041</id><published>2010-02-08T22:05:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2010-02-09T00:48:16.061+05:30</updated><title type='text'>An innocent heart</title><content type='html'>Translated the first stanza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gaze got inextricably hooked&lt;br /&gt;Couldn't cut through silken chains&lt;br /&gt;Age has grayed every strand of hair&lt;br /&gt;Yet not mellowed this youthful craze&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heartbeat rises unchecked,&lt;br /&gt;Bringing colour to lifeless cheeks&lt;br /&gt;Yet trepid in being alone&lt;br /&gt;Is this innocent heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little bit fragile &lt;br /&gt;Is this innocent heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song Name: Dil To Bachcha Hai&lt;br /&gt;Film/Album: Ishqiya&lt;br /&gt;Singer(s): Rahat Fateh Ali Khan&lt;br /&gt;Music Director: Vishal Bhardwaj&lt;br /&gt;Lyricist: Gulzar&lt;br /&gt;Picturised on: Naseruddin Shah, Arshad Warsi, Vidya Balan&lt;br /&gt;Length: 5:35&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aisi ulji nazar unse hatt ti nahi&lt;br /&gt;Daant se reshmi dor katt ti nahi&lt;br /&gt;Umar kab ki baras ke safaid ho gayi&lt;br /&gt;Kaari badari jawani ki chatt ti nahi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walla ye dhadkan bhadne lagi hai&lt;br /&gt;Chehre ki rangat udne lagi hai&lt;br /&gt;Darr lagta hai tanha sone mein ji&lt;br /&gt;Dil to bachcha hai ji&lt;br /&gt;Dil to bachcha hai ji&lt;br /&gt;Thoda kaccha hai ji&lt;br /&gt;Haan dil to baccha hai ji&lt;br /&gt;Aisi ulji nazar unse hatt ti nahi&lt;br /&gt;Daant se reshmi dor katt ti nahi&lt;br /&gt;Umar kab ki baras ke safaid ho gayi&lt;br /&gt;Kaari badari jawani ki chatt ti nahi&lt;br /&gt;Ra ra ra ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kisko ptaa tha pehlu mein rakha&lt;br /&gt;Dil aisa paaji bhi hoga&lt;br /&gt;Hum to hamesha samajhte the koi&lt;br /&gt;Hum jaisa haaji hi hoga&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hai zor karein, kitna shor karein&lt;br /&gt;Bewaja baatein pe ainwe gaur karein&lt;br /&gt;Dilsa koi kameena nahi&lt;br /&gt;Koi to rokey, koi to tokey&lt;br /&gt;Iss umar mein ab khaogey dhokhe&lt;br /&gt;Darr lagta hai ishq karne mein ji&lt;br /&gt;Dil to bachcha hai ji&lt;br /&gt;Dil to bachcha hai ji&lt;br /&gt;Thoda kaccha hai ji&lt;br /&gt;Haan dil to baccha hai ji&lt;br /&gt;http://www.top10bollywood.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aisi udhaasi baithi hai dil pe&lt;br /&gt;Hassne se ghabra rahe hain&lt;br /&gt;Saari jawani katra ke kaati&lt;br /&gt;Piri mein takra gaye hain&lt;br /&gt;Dil dhadakta hai to aise lagta hai woh&lt;br /&gt;Aa raha hai yahin dekhta hi na woh&lt;br /&gt;Prem ki maarein kataar re&lt;br /&gt;Taubah ye lamhe katt te nahi kyun&lt;br /&gt;Aankhein se meri hatt te nahi kyun&lt;br /&gt;Darr lagta hai mujhse kehne mein ji&lt;br /&gt;Dil toh bachcha hai ji&lt;br /&gt;Dil toh bachcha hai ji&lt;br /&gt;Thoda kaccha hai ji&lt;br /&gt;Haan dil toh baccha hai ji&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-2826790439576887041?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2826790439576887041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=2826790439576887041' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/2826790439576887041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/2826790439576887041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/02/innocent-heart.html' title='An innocent heart'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-4953314627420109174</id><published>2010-02-03T22:10:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2010-02-03T22:13:04.443+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Two other thoughts came to mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maturity - the sense and stomach to bear the worst of something, for e.g. love, emotions etc and yet not turn away from that ... rather, to still be able to appreciate, enjoy its finer qualities and also to bear oneself with dignity and grace, even when provoked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish a man could see the folly of his deeds before he commits them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-4953314627420109174?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4953314627420109174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=4953314627420109174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/4953314627420109174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/4953314627420109174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/02/two-other-thoughts-came-to-mind.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-8438707280747022990</id><published>2010-02-03T22:07:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-02-08T23:45:26.329+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Composed two different couplets today ... so posting them together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woh ek alfaaz kehti hain&lt;br /&gt;To hum ek afsaana likthe hain&lt;br /&gt;Woh ek jhalak jo dikhade&lt;br /&gt;To hum sijdah hote hain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hum tumhe apne aaghosh mein&lt;br /&gt;Aise sama le&lt;br /&gt;Ki na tum tum raho&lt;br /&gt;Na hum hum rahe&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-8438707280747022990?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8438707280747022990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=8438707280747022990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8438707280747022990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8438707280747022990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/02/composed-two-different-couplets-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-991187147637442146</id><published>2010-01-26T13:56:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2010-01-26T14:11:52.210+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Alam bekhudi ka is kadar chaaya&lt;br /&gt;Ki humpar hamara ikhtiyar na raha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unse ruswa hokar bhi na muh mod paaye&lt;br /&gt;Ki yeh farebi dil ab hamara na raha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-991187147637442146?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/991187147637442146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=991187147637442146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/991187147637442146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/991187147637442146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/01/alam-bekhudi-ka-is-kadar-chaaya-ki.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-8142558847092764557</id><published>2010-01-14T02:20:00.006+05:30</published><updated>2010-01-14T09:13:21.459+05:30</updated><title type='text'>An unfulfilled longing</title><content type='html'>So enchanting was your sight, that&lt;br /&gt;My self was simply pulled away from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such effulgence that I had to bow,&lt;br /&gt;Paying my token of love did I kneel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worshipped you with such fervor, &lt;br /&gt;Your divinity - even the world had to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much have I now longed for you,&lt;br /&gt;Tears of blood have filled the sea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray for your eternal happiness,&lt;br /&gt;This world of shattered dreams is not for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let not your sight rekindle my hopes,&lt;br /&gt;Hence I slip away without taking your leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Movie Name: Bazaar (1982)&lt;br /&gt;Singer: Lata Mangeshkar&lt;br /&gt;Music Director: Khaiyaam&lt;br /&gt;Lyrics: Mir Taqi Mir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dikhayi Diye Yoon Ke Bekhudh Kiya&lt;br /&gt;Humein Aapse Bhi Judaa Kar Chale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jabhi Sajda Karte Hi karte Gayi -2&lt;br /&gt;Haq-E-Bandigi Hum Adaa Kar Chale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dikhayi Diye Yoon.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parastish Kiya Tak Ke Aye But Tujhe -2&lt;br /&gt;Nazar Mein Sabonki Khuda Kar Gaye&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dikhayi Diye Yoon.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bahut Arzoo Thi Gali Ki Teri -2&lt;br /&gt;So Ya Se Lahoo Mein Naha Kar Chale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dikhayi Diye Yoon.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fakirana Ae Sada Kar Chale&lt;br /&gt;Miya Khush Raho Hum Dua Kar Chale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jo Tujh Bin Na Jeene Ka Kehte Hum&lt;br /&gt;So Us Ahad Ko Ab Wafa Kar Chale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Koi Na Umeed Na Karte Nigahen&lt;br /&gt;So Tum Humse Munh Bhi Chhupa Kar Chale&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-8142558847092764557?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8142558847092764557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=8142558847092764557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8142558847092764557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8142558847092764557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2010/01/unfulfilled-longing.html' title='An unfulfilled longing'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-4924352099619773521</id><published>2009-12-19T16:54:00.006+05:30</published><updated>2009-12-19T19:55:00.356+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The Best Thing</title><content type='html'>Growing up one comes across &lt;br /&gt;many who have accomplished quite a lot.&lt;br /&gt;The feeling emerges that one must&lt;br /&gt;try to emulate them in nature and deed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as one grows, only one conclusion&lt;br /&gt;does come out naturally. &lt;br /&gt;That the best thing is not to be like some great man, &lt;br /&gt;but the best, one possibly can be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-4924352099619773521?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4924352099619773521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=4924352099619773521' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/4924352099619773521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/4924352099619773521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2009/12/best-thing.html' title='The Best Thing'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-2712585604617126899</id><published>2009-12-18T00:39:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-12-18T01:25:16.912+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The lady with the candle</title><content type='html'>The desolate wildnerness&lt;br /&gt;of life stretching out for miles&lt;br /&gt;Where I wandered completely lost,&lt;br /&gt;defeated by Fate's guiles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fierce winds chilled me to the bones&lt;br /&gt;Blowing away even my inner warmth&lt;br /&gt;On such cold lonely wintry nights&lt;br /&gt;A candle in hand, she brought light&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That shaky flame of the candle &lt;br /&gt;which lit up her face serene&lt;br /&gt;A cozy warmth then seeped inside&lt;br /&gt;and thawed my frozen within&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a penny did this beggar have,&lt;br /&gt;No water to quench my own thirst&lt;br /&gt;Yet enriched with affection for her&lt;br /&gt;My heart overflowing with love burst&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-2712585604617126899?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2712585604617126899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=2712585604617126899' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/2712585604617126899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/2712585604617126899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2009/12/lady-with-candle.html' title='The lady with the candle'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-406756404239594417</id><published>2009-12-15T14:03:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-12-19T17:20:29.301+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The more experienced one becomes, the more difficult it becomes not to be decisive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-406756404239594417?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/406756404239594417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=406756404239594417' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/406756404239594417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/406756404239594417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2009/12/more-experienced-one-becomes-more.html' title=''/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-8646284774164806484</id><published>2009-12-13T01:17:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-12-13T01:19:26.808+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Eventually Hades</title><content type='html'>Every rose shall wither&lt;br /&gt;Every fallen leaf fades&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything that grows&lt;br /&gt;Eventually goes to Hades&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-8646284774164806484?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8646284774164806484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=8646284774164806484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8646284774164806484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/8646284774164806484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2009/12/eventually-hades.html' title='Eventually Hades'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-3083162024391282036</id><published>2009-11-30T23:14:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-12-01T13:07:13.511+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Sour grapes</title><content type='html'>Some grapes remain sour&lt;br /&gt;Some foxes remain foxed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Till they ask themselves a basic question &lt;br /&gt;- Do they really want the grapes so much?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-3083162024391282036?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3083162024391282036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=3083162024391282036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3083162024391282036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3083162024391282036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/sour-grapes.html' title='Sour grapes'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-1189609002952640043</id><published>2009-11-12T00:35:00.006+05:30</published><updated>2009-11-12T19:43:43.267+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Let it go</title><content type='html'>"Whatever happens is for the good", they say&lt;br /&gt;But you object to simply believe.&lt;br /&gt;It may perhaps be wrong, but I say&lt;br /&gt;what other option does that leave?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vainly I used to think&lt;br /&gt;That the future lay in my hands&lt;br /&gt;Till one day I opened my fist&lt;br /&gt;and out spilled past sands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another blow and I assumed&lt;br /&gt;that I shall pierce the hard stuff&lt;br /&gt;So on I persisted cutting the tree&lt;br /&gt;When my axe wasn't sharp enough&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So one day I opened that hand&lt;br /&gt;One day examined my axe edge&lt;br /&gt;I realized I was holding onto things&lt;br /&gt;That I should have left long behind&lt;br /&gt;Still cutting the same tree without luck&lt;br /&gt;When trees abounded that forest kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we never let go off the past&lt;br /&gt;How can we lay claim to the future?&lt;br /&gt;How can we deserve success&lt;br /&gt;When we choose to persist with failures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The path to victory may sometimes&lt;br /&gt;inexplicably start by acknowledging defeat - &lt;br /&gt;By leaving a vain pursuit&lt;br /&gt;Realizing the truth about oneself&lt;br /&gt;What one can do, and what one cannot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To look towards the future&lt;br /&gt;One has to make peace with the present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of always looking for what you expect&lt;br /&gt;Let the unexpected have a look at you&lt;br /&gt;For believe me, the quirks of Fate&lt;br /&gt;shall benefit you, only if you allow them to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-1189609002952640043?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/1189609002952640043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=1189609002952640043' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/1189609002952640043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/1189609002952640043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/let-it-go.html' title='Let it go'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-3666174509845580554</id><published>2009-11-08T15:38:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-11-08T15:41:41.890+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Some things about myself</title><content type='html'>Just some thoughts about myself - felt like writing like this after like a dozen years! So I felt its worthwhile posting this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I prefer being straightforward, open-hearted, frank and liberal. I don't like to play games. I always give people enough chances. I am forgiving and very understanding initially. I believe in being polite, formal and decent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It takes me a while to understand that a game is being played.&lt;br /&gt;It takes me a while to understand the rules of the game.&lt;br /&gt;But once I realize that and learn the rules, I am difficult to beat.&lt;br /&gt;I am intuitive....I can realize things that one cannot imagine could be realized...and I surmise pretty close to whats actual.&lt;br /&gt;I adapt well, I am quick to grasp once I know what needs to be grasped. &lt;br /&gt;I am agile, ruthless in my pursuit of winning, of scoring a point, of proving a point.&lt;br /&gt;And those who are experienced, who think they are experts are left confounded...they could never think that someone whom they had written off, someone whom they had left far behind has overtaken them and taught them a lesson. My biggest joy is in proving such people wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go out of my way to be polite, accommodating and compromising to those who treat me likewise.&lt;br /&gt;I go out of my way to be difficult, manipulative, indirect, and confusing to those who treat me likewise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will behave with you the way you will behave with me...but first I will always give you a chance. I trust people before I start distrusting them. I will trust you implicitly till you break my trust irrevocably.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-3666174509845580554?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3666174509845580554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=3666174509845580554' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3666174509845580554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/3666174509845580554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/some-things-about-myself.html' title='Some things about myself'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9084392123368505208.post-298410542019076576</id><published>2009-11-04T00:39:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-11-04T07:41:36.143+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Unknown yet known</title><content type='html'>Neither I know you, nor you know of me,&lt;br /&gt;Yet why do I get this feeling&lt;br /&gt;That we are made for each other&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silence everywhere, silence on our lips&lt;br /&gt;Yet the silence itself speaks out a story&lt;br /&gt;As our eyes reveal the mute yearning of hearts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the sake of love, leaving everything behind&lt;br /&gt;let's join the age-old pantheon of lovers&lt;br /&gt;Lost in each other, &lt;br /&gt;let's now tread this unknown path of love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Translation of "Na tum hamein jaano, na hum tumhe jaane" from the Hindi movie "Baat ek raat ki" (1962)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9084392123368505208-298410542019076576?l=wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/feeds/298410542019076576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9084392123368505208&amp;postID=298410542019076576' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/298410542019076576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9084392123368505208/posts/default/298410542019076576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wanderingsofanitinerantmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/unknown-yet-known.html' title='Unknown yet known'/><author><name>Historiophile</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05834082074293748219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YkcYY9941fE/STFuzM9mu1I/AAAAAAAAABI/_TAWmWsL_2c/S220/argonaut.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
