<?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-3056642745082759614</id><updated>2012-02-15T23:29:09.667-08:00</updated><category term='random ramblings'/><category term='articles'/><category term='flying'/><category term='travels'/><category term='miracle'/><category term='memories'/><category term='anti-climax'/><category term='reminiscent.'/><category term='parties'/><category term='tech stuff'/><category term='NYC'/><category term='last days.....'/><category term='thoughts'/><category term='Purgings'/><category term='humour'/><category term='fun'/><category term='studies.'/><category term='musically inclined?'/><category term='war against illogic (WAI) - 1'/><category term='friends'/><title type='text'>Wazza !!</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-6092876649915351654</id><published>2008-12-26T20:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T21:04:59.317-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The True Meaning of Christmas !</title><content type='html'>So after all these years of pseudo-celebrating Christmas - beginning with the annual Christmas party my elocution class would have when I was Std. 3 and I'd go to play games to the tune of Jingle bells and stuff my face with chocolate cake and wafers to the last one in 2007 spent in someone's NJ home with an actual Christmas tree, some presents, lots of Coconut Malibu - this year is when I realized the true meaning of Christmas. I was sitting in my basement lab on the 25th of December and decided to go through my favorite time-pass activity : Going through Rants and Raves on the local Craigslist. I came across the following series of posts - copied below from CL :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Christmas, and money, and such (SC)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's dark and grey here, either freezing cold or pouring rain. I would like to go to a coffee shop, sit and read and be warm. Or I could imagine being one of the laughing girls buying presents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They ask "are you going home for Christmas?" and I want to ask, "how in the hell could I?" How do all my fellow grad students fly home for Christmas? Do their stipends include funds for that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because yesterday I had $3.00 to my name, and I was deciding between laundry, gas money, and groceries. Tomorrow is just another day - dark, grey, only everything is closed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're supposed to work your way up. Start from the bottom of the socio-economic ladder and diligently pursue a better future. And I try desperately to have a good attitude. But sometimes I hate that it has to be this hard, and even more so, I hate that so many around me - who should be financially in the same place - seem to live a life of relative financial ease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually have a good attitude, but perhaps because it's so miserable and cold and dark, because the people I love are far away - I really hate Christmas. I would have cancelled it this year if I could. At the very least, it would mean those of us who don't have wouldn't be constantly reminded of the fact.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heartfelt - written in a moment of despair / frustration. The typical response to such a post on CL would be ridicule , insults and replies containing the word DOUCHEBAG atleast 7 times. So when I opened the next reply in the series, I was pleasantly surprised !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Re: Christmas, and such (SC)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A very nice gentleman replied with an offer of help, and I want him to know I'm grateful. I can't reply with my regular e-mail b/c it has my name on it, and this is a small town, so I could easily end up with my previous posting in the hands of someone in my department.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But thank you - your offer surprised me, to say the least. If it matters, my grandma is from Oklahoma, grew up during the depression and the dust bowl. And they all passed down this "poor but proud" attitude (which also equates to a sometimes overly stubborn refusal to accept charity/help).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, thank you. Sleep well.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;RE:Christmas, and money, and such - (SC)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;It's dark and grey here, either freezing cold or pouring rain. I would like to go to a coffee shop, sit and read and be warm. Or I could imagine being one of the laughing girls buying presents.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My fondest Christmas memories are not of Christmases of wealth, but of Christmases of poverty. That may sound silly, but you'll find as you grow older and people talk about good times, they always are talk of when they had little. Things like the tiny apartment they had when they first got married or the junk car they had when they first started driving and couldn't afford anything new. They'll tell such stories with laughter and go on to say those were the good old days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My most memorable Christmas was many years ago when I found myself alone Christmas Eve doing laundry at a laundromat. That was a pretty depressing thing to do on Christmas Eve, but as I stood there feeling sorry for myself, I started to look around and I realized I was in what used to be an old train station (people familiar with Clearfield know which laundromat I am talking about). It was snowing outside with those giant feathery flakes and it was just so beautiful. I was staring out the window and I started to think about the people who used the train station in the past, they probably stood in the very spot I was in, looking out the window and watching for the train to arrive with their loved ones. I could imagine the excitement they were probably feeling and it brought a smile to my face. I didn't feel so lonely anymore even though there didn't seem to be a soul around the entire downtown area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After many, many Christmases in my life, that Christmas Eve in the laundromat stands out the most, looking at the snow falling against the backdrop of the streetlights during a time when I had little money and no company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that somehow today you find your own little piece of Christmas joy, it's out there somewhere, you just have to go look for it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.craigslist.org/3ke3p13l31f81g91358cp10fd0038f84917bc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 199px;" src="http://images.craigslist.org/3ke3p13l31f81g91358cp10fd0038f84917bc.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It did bring out a smile and some cheer to me - and I somehow felt included in the holiday cheer !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...Merry Christmas !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whodasanta ? ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-6092876649915351654?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/6092876649915351654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=6092876649915351654' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/6092876649915351654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/6092876649915351654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2008/12/true-meaning-of-christmas.html' title='The True Meaning of Christmas !'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-8211309200633060569</id><published>2008-12-26T20:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T20:46:00.040-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Slumdog !</title><content type='html'>Finished watching Slumdog Millionaire: what a fantastic movie - in both senses of the word "fantastic". Its always a good feeling to see Bombay on the silver screen - especially in a global context because you know that you are able to see way more than other people can. When you see a VT, they see trains and people - you know what it means to have traveled through there, waited there - the sweat the stink the urgency of people while you wait, the laxity of people while you rush. A person from Bombay can realize that while the scenes in which the kid goes through shit to see the Big B and that entire households come to a standstill for the final question are entirely plausible, the whole idea of the slum kid getting breaks like he did in the movie is almost impossible. But then - its Bombay and stuff always works out! Another thought that ran through my mind was everyone around saw him winning 2 crores - he only knew what he had gone through to win it and how it was an accessory compared to what he really wanted - and got. Which is another lesson in luck favours the brave , there are no free lunches etc etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awesome awesome movie - I'll be looking to see it again for sure !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-8211309200633060569?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/8211309200633060569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=8211309200633060569' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/8211309200633060569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/8211309200633060569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2008/12/slumdog.html' title='Slumdog !'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-67159808548482624</id><published>2008-11-03T17:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T17:11:01.727-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aam Aadmi.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UAbzIrTaBV4/SQ-gkUb2phI/AAAAAAAAI_0/J7FW1cisTII/s1600-h/Matchup.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 165px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UAbzIrTaBV4/SQ-gkUb2phI/AAAAAAAAI_0/J7FW1cisTII/s320/Matchup.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264603035240670738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Notice the similarity between the "Common Man" ? R.K. Laxman's on the left, and the one from "A Wednesday" on the right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smart move, I'd say !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q - What is "aam aadmi" in English? &lt;br /&gt;A - Mango Man.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-67159808548482624?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/67159808548482624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=67159808548482624' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/67159808548482624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/67159808548482624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2008/11/aam-aadmi.html' title='Aam Aadmi.'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UAbzIrTaBV4/SQ-gkUb2phI/AAAAAAAAI_0/J7FW1cisTII/s72-c/Matchup.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-2408876996883526405</id><published>2008-11-03T16:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T17:01:47.017-08:00</updated><title type='text'>US elections wishlist.</title><content type='html'>I wish I....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.. had a vote, I'd vote Obama.&lt;br /&gt;.. could nail Palin (pun intended)- I'd debate her.&lt;br /&gt;.. could betcha that I can keep her busy by writing P.T.O on both sides of the paper!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-2408876996883526405?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/2408876996883526405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=2408876996883526405' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/2408876996883526405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/2408876996883526405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2008/11/us-elections-wishlist.html' title='US elections wishlist.'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-7687816396394162411</id><published>2008-09-24T18:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T18:19:10.171-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random ramblings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reminiscent.'/><title type='text'>Mr. Bore !</title><content type='html'>Its silent learning. Only when you start interacting with undergrads, you realise how far beyond that stage you've come. It seems so much more than a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not cocky, arrogant. Yet. Circumstances still allow steps to be taken that may lead to cocky, arrogant again but it seems to be too much work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One spoilt evening over olives can get you thinking. More than you may want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its a little woozy, but it seems to be falling in place.This week's been pretty good so far. Hopefully by next week, there should be my set routine for the rest of the sem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its beyond the stage where you read "... only 21yrs ..." in a newspaper article abt some achievement and go like - whoaaa that guy is old, I can do the same - I'm still just 16/17/18.It hits that you're 23 - about to enter the Great Circle of Boring Life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hell, I don't crank a-PJ-a-minute anymore!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-7687816396394162411?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/7687816396394162411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=7687816396394162411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/7687816396394162411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/7687816396394162411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2008/09/mr-bore.html' title='Mr. Bore !'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-3322735537242379357</id><published>2008-06-12T16:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T16:48:19.813-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travels'/><title type='text'>Wanderlust....</title><content type='html'>I have been envying this friend of mine since the past few days. She travels the bloody globe, seeing so many new places, meeting so many new people, cuisines, cultures its the stuff of my dreams. Now I feel the urge to become part of a TV channel show that takes you around the world and does all that they do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It began one evening two weeks ago, when I went to a local hookah place to listen to this band called Anatolian Fusion. Funky name, but it was essentially Turkish. Such amazing music....I went up to them and asked for a CD. I have to get it yet, but hell......it made me realize how much fun these nations would be to go to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been doing my bit to satisfy the wanderlust in me, been to 5 different cities in an equal number of weekends, and felt the urge to blog from each of them but I have just been too lazy!! I had my 5th official trip to NYC and I continue my love-hate with it. DC is charming and tolerable, but just so. Pittsburgh was a surprise..it helped that they had summer bands and events going on and the day was pretty fine, but what with its cruises, and clubs and other fun stuff to do it just made me want to extend my trip. No I didn't go to the temple, but I would have wanted to go there coz I hear the Udipi next to it awesome :D :D Philadelphia was such a whirlwind trip, left at 5am back at 2 am but we did a crazy amount of things in that 22 hr period. Old city, parks, Rocky-style running, futuristic (and reallly expensive restaurant) we went through the whole gamut. Not to mention the riverfront bazaar and the bike parade and the fact that everyone remained a sport on the hot day. Capped by Montreal last weekend....ohh I loved that city (Haven't I said it for all of them?) US meets- Europe, and the purpose I was there for made it all the more special. Hordes o people from all over the globe had descended to watch Formula 1 and the festive atmosphere it gave to the place was absolutely amazing. Hot cars, hot chicks - a word about them - it wasn't only those who came for the race, regular, average Canadian girls were so strikingly pretty and beautiful - absolutely no comparison to the US. Ok, a lot of words happened, but yes, a random google search listed Montreal as the 8th global city with the most beautiful girls and Heaven knows I agree !! Back to the cars..and the clubbing.....and the street stuff....words don't do it justice so I will put up an album link up &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/preyank/F1Montreal2008"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, but the shivers you get from an F1 car passing 2 feet in front of you are so different yet equal in intensity to those you get when you hear David Guetta in a club or see an Audi R8 out on the streets or see a bunch of regular race-heads smoking their tires in stand-still traffic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still have to become that smart traveler that travels everywhere in minimum $$s, but I hope that's coming up next coz this is burning a hole in my pocket ! This weekend trip to DC shall hopefully be the last of my summer wanderings coz I need to start earning my pay now, but damnnnn, I want to travel to Florida and California.For me, the journey AND destination counts :( :( and its not either or.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ms. Mehta, you have my respect and my envy !!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-3322735537242379357?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/3322735537242379357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=3322735537242379357' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/3322735537242379357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/3322735537242379357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2008/06/wanderlust.html' title='Wanderlust....'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-8957776328630545621</id><published>2008-04-04T23:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T23:49:13.565-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LateNight@ Penn State !!</title><content type='html'>Dated April 4th, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8vTeMyAHolc&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8vTeMyAHolc&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-8957776328630545621?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/8957776328630545621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=8957776328630545621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/8957776328630545621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/8957776328630545621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2008/04/latenight-penn-state.html' title='LateNight@ Penn State !!'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-865140739761411033</id><published>2008-03-31T19:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T19:31:04.501-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='studies.'/><title type='text'>Grad life !</title><content type='html'>Phew...its that time of the semester where the 2nd half has just begun but you can't wait for the semester to end. Its unbelievable how much I have learned in the 8 months I have been here and how much more I learn each day. A drawing of a part on SolidWorks has prompted this post.......I never even knew what the SolidWorks layout looked like, forget about knowing how to use it. Using the awesome tutorial, in 30 minutes flat I ended up making a relatively complex part, which would have taken ages on AutoCAD, am sure !After the drawing, the concern was to put it in a form so that it can be sent for manufacturing. Now that is the most irritating part of drawing sheets as any Indian UG engg would agree........the 6mm, 12 mm and 60mm by 150mm block and the "stylized" writing in it. Dreading that part, I did click on the tutorial...and *POP*, there is a template for that ! The grin that passed over my face was pretty surprising, even to me :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ending this nerdy post, (I have become such a nerd, it ain't even funny!) I absolutely love working my ass off and going home tired and hungry and fixing myself something/talking to people/plopping in bed...though it scares me at most times as to how effortlessly people in my classes go through the homework while I can't figure out for the life of me what the **** has to be done...anyone with similar sentiments around ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-865140739761411033?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/865140739761411033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=865140739761411033' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/865140739761411033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/865140739761411033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2008/03/grad-life.html' title='Grad life !'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-2163492145156263538</id><published>2008-02-28T13:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T13:42:26.236-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='miracle'/><title type='text'>If this was a movie, would you have believed it ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lifted from ToI,Ahmedabad dated 28th Feb, 2008&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call it good fortune or just the will of God. But the life in a seven-month-old foetus, that fell through the toilet bowl of a running train when the mother went to ease herself, still lives on! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call it a miracle, perhaps. This tiny bundle weighing just 1.4 kg, which slipped from the womb into the toilet tube and crash-landed on rocks between two steel tracks, is from the top drawer of survival tales. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Born a good two months premature, she is recuperating in the Neo-natal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) of Rajasthan Hospitals. Here, she lies without a scratch after the providential escape just before midnight on Tuesday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She is a fighter. In just 12 hours after the unthinkable accident, she was coming out of the accident quite well," said pediatrician Dr Raj Kumar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She is a gift from God. How else can all this be explained," the girl's mother, Bhuri Kalbi (33), said. Bhuri is a native of Swaroopganj, located between Sirohi and Abu Road, in Rajasthan and was travelling by the Jodhpur-Ahmedabad train. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bhuri was headed for Ahmedabad with her relatives for a medical check-up. She felt very weak on the toilet seat and passed out. The next thing she remembers is people knocking on the toilet door. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she managed to get up to open the latched door, she realised an emptiness in her stomach. "I realised my stomach was flat. My child was gone," said Bhuri whose husband works in a packaging unit in Ahmedabad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bhuri's brother-in-law Arjun said when she opened the door she was semiconscious. He realised with complete shock what had happened. "We immediately pulled the chain at Kalol, two stations away from where the child had slipped off and alerted the train guard," he said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a day when the Railway Budget was presented by Lalu Prasad, who promised ‘green toilets' in trains, the girl can thank railway personnel for snatching her from sure death. As she lay on the track — fortunately located close to the Amblisayan railway station — some members of the Gram Rakshak Dal alerted station master KK Rai that a new-born child was lying on the track. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While rushing to the spot on foot, Rai said he could hear the cries of the baby from a distance. On coming closer, he could not believe what he saw. "The baby was lying dangerously close to the left track with the umbilical cord hanging by the side," Rai said. The baby had turned blue due to the chill at midnight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The railwaymen wrapped the baby in a cloth and called the local doctor. While the child was being examined, a call came, saying the parents were traced. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mother could not believe her eyes when she was reunited with the baby two hours later at the Kalol Civil Hospital. And she just can't take her eyes off this baby ever since.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-2163492145156263538?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/2163492145156263538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=2163492145156263538' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/2163492145156263538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/2163492145156263538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2008/02/if-this-was-movie-would-have-believed.html' title='If this was a movie, would you have believed it ?'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-689830839937941331</id><published>2007-12-30T22:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T18:10:02.731-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Drunken Talk</title><content type='html'>Who invented alcohol?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a repeat of the Deli. " Delhi?" "Yep, Deli". Delhi? " "Noooo....Deli !""oooo, Deli :)"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oye guju, bahut bhalo che" ( trying to market bread and pickle )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mereko thodi thodi chadhi hai." " Climb ?!" heeheehee " Mereko thodi thodi climb hai"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I will tell you ghoom ghoom ghoom, then you ghoom" "I generally don't ghoom, but I will now." "Ok, faster ghoom, ghoom, faster ghoom" "haahaaaaa"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Getting wasted is fun as long as you don't puke" Ok, if you puke once, its alright, but not too much"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You want chapattis?""haaan, yes !! "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can wear pajama if you want" "do that". "damn, how much you want me to wear ?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Play Robert Miles". "What is Rob Miles?" "He is known for measuring long miles, hence the name" " Haaahaaaahaaaaa" "Ae, cute she is"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"U know in India, we make mental patients wear gown, you look like them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"this is aplam." ( Tamil for papad: appam. And here they were trying to classify a chappati!) "Haaa haaa, she called it aplam" " Ae, this is chapatti." "No, its chapatti aplam " ( LOL )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I stayed in Macy's 4th floor to listen to Bhangra. And ended up buying that dress."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My hairband drank my drink"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I had a long island ice tea. How long was it? "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3  girls dancing to the Macarena. Nothing can beat this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a 31st floor Manhattan Apartment on December 31st.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-689830839937941331?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/689830839937941331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=689830839937941331' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/689830839937941331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/689830839937941331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2007/12/drunken-talk.html' title='Drunken Talk'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-2143634145515493668</id><published>2007-10-30T20:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T21:05:25.436-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dada...........</title><content type='html'>He was born into the most affluent family in the village. He had all till he was 10. Then his family went into debt.He lost his father at 14.Suddenly, he was the head of a family of 4.And had no money. He decided to move away from the village into the city. During those days, he got entwined into the freedom struggle. School suffered. At the threat of being thrown out of school, he managed to get 58% in Std. 10. After getting 6% in his prelim exams.He got accepted into a technical college. He needed a document for it. He didn't have it. It was the weekend, and the court was closed. He would have to go to the District Magistrate for it. The DM lived far. Very far. He didn't have money, so he walked to the DM's place. 6 hours away. And back.He got a scholarship. Did his diploma in textile engineering.All the while, he worked to get his family out of debt. He put his youngest sister through medical school. His younger brother was made into a Chemical engineer.He shifted to Bombay. Started working in a textile mill.Worked his way up. Travelled to UK, Germany, Mauritius, France, US on work.Started a family.Had two sons. Didn't have money but sent one to the US on loans, knowing he wanted to go. Became " well-settled" in life. He retired as the President of the mills. Wasn't content with retirement. Went to work as honorary secretary/president/chair with a social organisation. Used to work 9 to 5 or more. For free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He saved my life.I had fever.......107F. My mother was trying unsuccessfully to bring it down. He came home, saw me and dumped my 3 yr old burning body into a tub of ice-cold water.He taught me swimming.The trip I took with him to Panchgani was my first trip without my parents.He taught me cycling there.He taught me cricket when we were back home.He was hell-proud of me.He took me to the beach one day with him at 4am.He used to take me to the beach for breakfast parties he and his friends used to have. He was the first one to tell me how to hold a car's steering wheel when he was driving me down somewhere.He stopped eating paan when I asked him not to.Always eager to learn new things, he learned email, MS-Office and developed a love for sizzlers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I left for the US, he said if health permits, we'll come visit you. And told me that it was a crime to spend money earned in India in the US.He was my role-model.He always had words of advise for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spoke to him on Sunday. After 15 days. Felt good to hear him happy and cheerful. Now, I will never be able to speak to him.He breathed his last on Tuesday,October 30th. And I couldn't be there with him in his last moments because I was here, so far away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He lived life the way it should have been lead.He rose from nothing. To something.Meant everything to so many people.And he never hurt anyone along the way.Graceful in actions and words, he was amazing in all senses of the word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was my grandfather.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-2143634145515493668?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/2143634145515493668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=2143634145515493668' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/2143634145515493668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/2143634145515493668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2007/10/dada.html' title='Dada...........'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-6989432065606587689</id><published>2007-09-29T23:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-29T23:53:12.142-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Slogging thy rear end away....</title><content type='html'>Waking up, making breakfast, run to catch the bus, miss it, walk down to campus, attend lectures, try hard to stay awake through them, talk to friends, make new ones, watch cellphone minutes, discover new places to study, win stuff, collect free stuff, have lunch at a new place, go back for more classes, go to office for office-hours, help UGs solve doubts, joke, work, study, get back, clean house, make dinner, wait for clock to strike 9, attack the phone, study more, go down, have people come up, talk, laugh, reminisce, dream, change, sleep. Repeat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its the way to live..........:D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-6989432065606587689?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/6989432065606587689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=6989432065606587689' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/6989432065606587689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/6989432065606587689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2007/09/slogging-thy-rear-end-away.html' title='Slogging thy rear end away....'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-4870208564700043509</id><published>2007-08-21T09:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T15:25:27.754-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parties'/><title type='text'>Of friends and their "songs"</title><content type='html'>Its getting colder at Penn State........brrrr yesterday was 14 degrees Celsius with wind and rain. And I was out moving only in a shirt and jeans and my umbrella. And it seems today is colder, but I haven't bothered venturing out. Speaking of umbrella, it now has a new significance for me....we've been having parties all week long now......me going over to some people's place or people coming over etc etc. And whenever the parties happen in the building I stay, the song that HAS to play is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mrTUhkN7RFA"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mrTUhkN7RFA" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just yesterday S told me that whenever she hears this song 3 years from now, its gonna remind her of the first week at State College. New friends, people, surroundings, relationships this is all so much fun. Though I catch myself thinking of all my years in Bombay and especially the last 5-6 eventful years and how I just have to get in touch with all the people but I just don't get around to doing it. Bra, bawa, akki, pavi, krits, dips, soo-zay, pj, shitty,dave,vg,kp....all you guys......I do plan to mail soon :D Please don't give gaalis! :D I've had such awesome fun times with you guys........it would have been so fun if all were here at Penn State.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here's to all new friends........and more parkway parties and a whole new sem and so much fun that I can wirte about you guys in my next blog like this 2 years from now when I am somewer else!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For all those who were not there......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="288" height="192" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&amp;RGB=0x000000&amp;feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fpreyank%2Falbumid%2F5114397342622299713%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whobeinlilreminiscent&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-4870208564700043509?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/4870208564700043509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=4870208564700043509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/4870208564700043509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/4870208564700043509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2007/08/of-friends-and-their-songs.html' title='Of friends and their &quot;songs&quot;'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-3640477876431617434</id><published>2007-08-03T15:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-03T23:04:44.660-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='NYC'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travels'/><title type='text'>Of Glittering pavements and 3 inch shorts</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So, I had my first true do-it-yourself trip of my life. "Look at New York City", planned oganized and executed by me. They were the best 24 hours I have had in a long long time. Beginning on 1st August at 4:30pm from Bernardsville Station, NJ it ended at the same station at 4 pm on the 2nd.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Having had a full itenary planned out, it was all blown to bits when my frined (whom I was supposed to meet at WTC), called saying a meeting came up and he had to rush back at 8. So, anyway, we decided to meet at WTC.While waiting for him to arrive on the hot NY sidewalk, I observed the people moving past me. Indians, Chinese and Americans.......these were the headings under which I classified them. Each of them dressed in formal clothes or suits, they had this air of purpose, a look of determination and some sort of destination to which they purposefully strode, pushing others out of the way, sometimes with an "excuse me" or else a shove. This was so much like Bombay.....it was instantly apparent they are called sister cities. No one but yourself. Just for kicks, I felt like asking for directions to Wall Street, so I asked one white guy dresssed in a classy suit to help me out. The guy turned around to hear me out, but didn't stop walking! So I'm hurrying behind him asking him and he continues walking while giving me perfect directions to Wall Street leaving me displaced from my resting place by a 100 metres ! Again total Bombay-style.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mah friend came, we caught up and then I realized I needed to pee. So what does he suggest? Go up to this Indian Restaurant (which served naan for $3, paneer-mutter for $6) and ask him if I could use the loo. So, thinking Indian-Indian bhai bhai, I did that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"May I use your bathroom? " &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Stares..........20 seconds.Then a nod of the head and a finger lifts in the genral direction of loo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;After I'm done, "Thank you"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nod towards exit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Unbelievably rude behaviour! But again, Bombay :D.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Anyway, then we had slices of cheese pizzas, beer and then went to Times Square at 10:30 in the night. Stupendous is not quite the word which does justice to the scene that greeted us. Flashing neons, a mass of humanity omg, Times Square has to be visited once in the night!  Friendly, jovial people, tourists and couples mainly. The footpaths again reminded you of the street stuff in Bombay, with various people coming up with innovative ways of earning money.Potrait painters, entertainers, robo-impersonators, stall owners, name em and you find em. Indians, Pakis, Albanians, Chinese, Koreans saw all of them side-by-side with the French, Africans, Italians. Roaming around in Times Square I saw the flashiest wheels on one side of the road, while just next to me there lay an old homeless guy in deep sleep on the pavement!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And the pavement, oh my god !!! It actually glitters because of some granite or whatever it is that they have put in it whie making it. So in the faintest of lights you can see it glimmering and shining in front of you, twinkling away, and that makes you feel so good coz you feel like you are walking amongst the stars :D :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;These are the pics of the night :D. Enjoy them and then continue reading !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="400" height="267" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&amp;captions=1&amp;amp;RGB=0x000000&amp;feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fpreyank%2Falbumid%2F5094025114241016721%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Cut to 2nd August, morning 7:30 am. After spending time at Times Square till two in the morning (and seeing lesbians and straight couples make out on subway stations ) and spending the whole night awake chatting to friends and uploading pics, and seeing the sun rise in New York City, I was out on the streets again, heading to Rockefeller Centre. On my way I stopped at a roadside cart for coffee (really watery crap) and an onion bagel (cold as an ice-cube, hard like rock). Eating and walking while looking at hurrying locals on their way to work in the sweltering sunny weather made me feel goood in a sadistic way ! :D That I was here, free without a care in the world while they had to go do work and routine boring crap!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Reaching Rockefeller before 8 meant I had sometime to hang around before they opened and let me up onto the observation deck. I spent that time chatting up an Italian couple, Antonio and Camella, from Napoli who were der on their honeymoon (wedding holiday as Antonio put it in his broken English!) and were also waiting for the place to open. NYC from the 70th storey offered a good view, but the dirty yellow-brown smog around the whole city showed the sorry state of afairs Again, made me think of Bombay and its haze. When we went down from the observation deck, in the gift shop below, Iwas waiting while A &amp; C shopped around. We'd decided to go to Times Square together next, coz I already knew the loaction and they didn't have anything specific in mind. So while I was waitin, I got chatting with a black guy at the counter. Turned out his granddad was Indian who went to Guyana and did stuff with the locals there which led to this guy being born. :) His name? Justin Singh. Was funny and awesome at the same time........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Anyway, then we went to Times Square, I'd wanted to see the Ripley's Museum there. On our way to the place, me and Antonio were trying to converse in however way we could, gesticulating, speaking, mouthing syllables. Finally Camella had a brainwave. Digging into her backpack she handed Antonio an Italian-English dictionary while I got an English-Italian dictionary. So der I was explaining that Madame Tussad's was a "muesmo de cera" while he told me he was a "book-keeper" (he meant he had something to do with finance, I gathered he was a fin. consultant or something) and that "mechanical engineering has great profit in Italy". Ohh, it was fun. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;After Ripley's I was just moving around in NYC, on the streets looking at the various shops and the goods they had.....did yo uknow you got fake branded stuff on the streets in NY and that you could bargain for it ? I thought that happened only in India ! The 3-inch shorts, by the way refers to the length of the clothing worn by the girls in NYC. The most ostentatious display of legs- fat, thin, wrinkled smooth however the condition, the shorts were ubiquituous. Either that or a tight mini-skirt. Perfect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;wholikestravelling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-3640477876431617434?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/3640477876431617434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=3640477876431617434' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/3640477876431617434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/3640477876431617434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2007/08/of-glittering-pavements-and-3-inch.html' title='Of Glittering pavements and 3 inch shorts'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-2954690637181882362</id><published>2007-07-14T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-14T14:44:02.836-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tech stuff'/><title type='text'>Stumbled !!!! And loving it !!!</title><content type='html'>Ohhhhhh...............I love this new feature Mozilla Firefox has...........it lead me to discovering these fantastic site. The first one, its an interactive online radio.........choose what genre you want to listen to, which songs, dance or relaxing, calm or energetic.........its so nice and neat. To think I could have gone through my lifetime without knowing about this site. I need to thank my kid-bro for installing the feature. Good job dude!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://&lt;a href="http://musicovery.com/index.php?ct=us"&gt;musicovery.com/index.php?ct=us&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also discovered this site for just relaxing after a crazy hard day:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://&lt;a href="http://www.chillmasterflex.com/"&gt;www.chillmasterflex.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just heard Phil Collins "You Can't Hurry Love" on the interactive radio. Its such a peppy number, I had to log on to YouTube to find and share the video with you people!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=brWVEHkP0Bs"&gt;www.youtube.com/watch?v=brWVEHkP0Bs&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wholuvtostumble ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-2954690637181882362?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/2954690637181882362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=2954690637181882362' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/2954690637181882362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/2954690637181882362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2007/07/stumbled-and-loving-it.html' title='Stumbled !!!! And loving it !!!'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-371303533393091767</id><published>2007-07-13T12:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T12:54:27.731-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='last days.....'/><title type='text'>Last times.......</title><content type='html'>I had Cheese Pav Bhaji, 2 pieces of Veg. Pizza and Cocktail juice today for dinner at Shiv Sagar. A very common place meal for most of the diners at this joint, but it was so special to me.....the last time in a long time I'll be savouring  Pav Bhaji with such abandon.  I've bought my stuff,  done my dental work, got my vaccines,  given a few parties,  met a lot of people for the last time.......and its 12 days, 5 hours and 37 minutes before I leave home, for a long time, for the first time. I'll miss Pav Bhaji [:(]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-371303533393091767?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/371303533393091767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=371303533393091767' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/371303533393091767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/371303533393091767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2007/07/last-times.html' title='Last times.......'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-7069817189614342901</id><published>2007-07-13T12:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T12:47:38.974-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humour'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flying'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='articles'/><title type='text'>Flying............</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span&gt;This is for all the peeps flying to the US soon.......or for those who travel a lot or just for those who love a good laugh. I read this while I was waiting at a dentist's to get my fillings done. It was so good, I actually came back after my filling to complete the article. Here it is for your consumption....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The truth is that airlines have only three types of seats: Misery, Misery Lite and Slightly Comfortable&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Charlie Booker&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Monday July 9, 2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Geneva,Arial,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/"&gt;The Guardian&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Geneva,Arial,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;Cease wailing, rain-lashed scumsacks, and gasp at my jet-set lifestyle. I've just returned from a bracing whistle-stop tour of Baltimore - or, more specifically, the most impoverished, crime-blighted corners of Baltimore - where we were shooting a documentary about the drama serial The Wire (which is largely set on said corners).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;To a wuss like me, it was an industrial-strength eye-opener: boarded-up windows, needles in the grass, crack vials littering the pavement and open-air drug markets aplenty. A staggering corpse of a neighbourhood, so ravaged and despairing that each time you spot a dead rat (roughly every 10 minutes), you assume it committed suicide.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;In short, an obscenity; standing in stark relief to the toothless, tourist-oriented central waterfront, where our hotel, a faceless slab, sat coolly humming its way through a minor heatwave. Two worlds, same city. Madness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Just to make the rich/poor contrast even more apparent, I had flown there first class, for the first time in my life. Not by choice, you understand. The production paid for "premium economy" tickets and, on top of these, I was unexpectedly granted an upgrade. When I stepped on board the stewardess ushered me leftward, to the promised land.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;In first class, I had a seat that reclined far enough to become a flat bed. I drank champagne and ate smoked salmon from a china plate with weighty silverware, while watching a flat-screen TV. When I got bored with that, there were a couple of framed pictures on the wall. That was the weirdest, most needless touch. They weren't interesting - just photographs of city skylines - but they weren't there to be looked at. They were there to make me feel special.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"If a terrorist shoe-bombs a hole in the fuselage right now," I thought, "and the plane corkscrews toward the ocean at 1,000mph, I'm going to fix my gaze on that gilt-framed photograph and remind myself that I'm dying in the lap of luxury."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;At the time, I didn't really appreciate these myriad luxuries. But come the return flight, stripped of any upgrade, I missed them so hard I went through the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Apart from the last one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Just as Starbucks serves buckets of hot milk in tall, grande and venti sizes instead of "small", "medium" and "large", so airline seating distinctions, whatever they are called, actually break down into Misery, Misery Lite, and the highest achievable grade, Slightly Comfortable. I was now seated in Misery Lite, which was twice - twice - the cost of mere Misery, despite the only difference being a slight spatial increase. Every aspect of Misery Lite was a just a tad worse than first class, for no reason other than it had to be, in order to keep first class seeming first class. The seat reclined (but not too far), the blanket crackled with static, the cutlery was plastic, and the meal smelt like a stomach wound. The in-flight TV had the same movie selection, but a smaller screen. Even the headphones were cheaper. If it were possible, they would make the air thinner too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Trouble is, the people in first class never get to see any of this, because they are separated by a curtain. For all they know, the whole notion of seating classes could be a con: there might be an open fireplace and conveyor belt sushi bar at the back of the plane. Surely this is missing the point. Whip back the curtain. Treat the first-class fat cats to a guided tour of the poky sardine conditions. Only then can they appreciate their fortune.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mind you, since comfort is relative, the airlines could, in turn, raise the spirits of the economy section by introducing a new sub-economy class, in which society's most impoverished passengers travel for free, provided they stand atop rickety stools with a noose round their necks for the duration of the flight. Suddenly your cramped economy seat will feel like a gilded throne in comparison. For about 10 minutes. Until the veins in your leg explode.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;If they must take the rich/poor divide to the skyways, they could at least be creative about it. Here is the ultimate in first-class entertainment: an interactive screen displaying a floorplan of the economy section. Tap any seat, and up pops a live shot of its luckless proletarian inhabitant. Now, using a videogame-style joypad, you control his environment. You can halt his in-flight movie 40 minutes in, turn the sound so low his ears have to squint to hear it, or play it at half normal speed, so Die Hard 4 seems to be taking place underwater.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You can slowly slide his seat forward, gradually reducing his legroom for chuckles. Blow cold air in his face. Shine lights in his eyes. Remorselessly goad him with a stick. Hidden beneath his seat is a turbulence simulator: activate this if he reaches for orange juice. Seated beside him is an animatronic baby that will scream, dribble or belch half-digested rusk down the side of his face whenever you see fit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And if physical discomfort isn't enough, why not mess with his mind? Pipe in a faked announcement from the pilot claiming the plane has accidentally flown through a timehole and will now remain airborne for eternity. Chortle through mouthfuls of roast goose as he tries to slash his own throat with his stupid plastic dinner knife. Revel in his desperation! That's what it's there for!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Of course, the inequality of air travel is a caricature of what happens on the ground: space and resources for all, doled out disproportionately. Yet no matter what relative comforts we are gifted, we are all screwed if the wings fall off. Scary thing is, the bolts holding them in place have been loosening for some time. Here endeth the metaphor. Good night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-7069817189614342901?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/7069817189614342901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=7069817189614342901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/7069817189614342901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/7069817189614342901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2007/07/flying.html' title='Flying............'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-1304845258000013985</id><published>2007-07-03T14:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T14:30:26.188-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='musically inclined?'/><title type='text'>Let's Dance</title><content type='html'>A really lovely song.......embodies what all of us should do instead of what we end up doing....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random fact: Did this song come first, or did the Indian phrase "chance pe dance" come first ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-1304845258000013985?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hTQfERb9HVk' title='Let&apos;s Dance'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/1304845258000013985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=1304845258000013985' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/1304845258000013985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/1304845258000013985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2007/07/lets-dance.html' title='Let&apos;s Dance'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-7118144008785979383</id><published>2007-05-06T04:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-06T05:02:09.676-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anti-climax'/><title type='text'>When I was alone at home....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;I was alone (or so I thought) at my place yesterday...watching TV, when I saw her come out of the room. Though shocked at the blatant way she'd presented herself, I ignored her...being engrossed in an inane cartoon on TV isn't too difficult.All of a sudden, I felt her legs on mine......moving across my feet. Thoroughly disgusted, I moved away...trying to keep my cool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Things were calm for a while, each of us minding our own business. We caught sight of each other at times, but we looked through each other. Its really hard to ignore someone in the same room! She flitted around the room, trying to catch my eye, but studiously I avoided her gaze. And then it happened.....she went in front of the TV screen. And remained there. Not in a mood to argue or talk about it, I just got up and headed to my room. But before I closed the door, she came in behind me. Still not acknowledging, I picked up my textbook and tried studying for the viva I had today. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;I felt her whispering in my ear, I could feel her body sometimes near my hands, sometimes my head, sometimes my legs......maan, it was getting more and more difficult to keep myself walled up. With the increased frequency of physical contact, the last of my self-control was gone. I pushed myself up, into position and stared at her. Motionless, we feasted on each other for what seemd an eternity, and then........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;SMACK!!!! That was one less mosquito in the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;whothought-ittoberisque?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-7118144008785979383?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/7118144008785979383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=7118144008785979383' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/7118144008785979383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/7118144008785979383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2007/05/when-i-was-alone-at-home.html' title='When I was alone at home....'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-5560938819874904615</id><published>2007-04-15T07:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-15T07:29:36.034-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='war against illogic (WAI) - 1'/><title type='text'>Stop this bullshit !!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;If your initials are SB from CoMo,  dont read further&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Jus saw a brilliant Bahrain GP......Ferrari 1, 3. Good stuff........and Alonso comes in #5...he deserves it after blocking Kimi in the initial laps. After the scintillating race, picked up today's Times (pg 17, culture curry) and was flipping through it when I came across an article titled: " Sachin Vs SRK" It was abt "Why blame only the cricketers for doing ads? Blame the filmstars also!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;WHAAAAT ??  Wasn't in the mood to read bullshit, so I just went ahead, but the whole (il)logic of the title was so hard to ignore, I had to go read how the author (wannabe Mr. Anil Dharkar, whose daughter has those lips made of bicycle tire inner tubes - fully inflated) had reasoned out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;In short, he had this to say: " When movies flop, people don't blame movie-stars. That's because movie guys don't play themselves, they play characters. So cricketers should not play themselves....because ads generally show them to be winning all matches with a wave of their bats. They should be shown as failures who fail again and again. Then they won't be blamed"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Kya bakwaas hai yeh!!! You curly haired old geezer, the logic is this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Filmstars' jobs DEMAND that they act for a living, everyone knows that. They don't sacrifice movies for TV ads.....and frankly, who cares if a movie nixes? It doesn't involve NATIONAL HONOUR, PRESTIGE , PRIDE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Cricketers' jobs demand they bowl, bat, field, WIN. Not model credit cards in unbroken pansy voices, or show off brown-streaked locks as if they were in a hair-oil ad. They represent our country at the international level.........in front of the world. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Amitabh Bachchan may be dressed as a villager for Cadbury, but everyone in the world will appreciate him. 4 idiots running through crowded streets and turning into tigers at a railway station (where there are no trains, only a hippy crowd shouting hoo-haa-blah-blah) and then losing matches the next day WILL NOT BE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Dharkar uncle, do your job, stick to writing about logical stuff. If you have to write for money's sake, don't. Go do an ad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;See SB, I asked you not to!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-5560938819874904615?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/5560938819874904615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=5560938819874904615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/5560938819874904615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/5560938819874904615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2007/04/stop-this-bullshit.html' title='Stop this bullshit !!!'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-1246470711594306618</id><published>2007-04-09T03:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:32:40.028-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pudhe Chala !!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UAbzIrTaBV4/RhocAMYeZ6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/hsDRrKuMjKA/s1600-h/brave2412200594214.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UAbzIrTaBV4/RhocAMYeZ6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/hsDRrKuMjKA/s320/brave2412200594214.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051380721698891682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;These two words, instantly conjure up an image of a khakhi-dressed, harried conductor in a lurching, crowded BEST bus full of sweaty tired passengers for anyone who's been in Bombay long enough !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A conductor: the person who punches out the tickets and collects the correct fare for your journey.&lt;/span&gt; That's the job profile. But he is also the person who can alter your mood, make you belligerent by acting stuffy, make you plead (for your life, onlookers might think) when he says "kya hai?....chutta nikalo nahi to uttar jao" in the bus which when running exactly on schedule comes in intervals of 50 minutes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;There is this one conductor who I bump into infrequently in early morning buses on Route 79. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A complete joker&lt;/span&gt;.........he'll keep a smile on your face all through the journey by passing harmless but amazingly funny comments at all the passengers alighting, boarding or just sitting in the bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;There's another in the 8:35 # 322 bus from Santacruz to Vidyavihar. Have been seeing him regularly for almost 4 years now..we smile and acknowledge each other, but 2 semesters ago, when I boarded the bus during exams with notes spilling from my hands......he gave me my ticket and then started speaking to me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;"What engineering are you doing? "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Mechanical"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;"You like it?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Bahut"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Electronics Engineering kaisa hai? "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Bahut accha field hai. Kyun ?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Meri beti Electronics Engineer hai"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;The quiet pride on his face made me see him as &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;a father&lt;/span&gt;, and not as a conductor for the 1st time in so many years. And now whenever I see him, I don't see him as a conductor...but as a person I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Another incident......while preparing for my GRE, I used to revise my verbal flashcards in the bus each day. One evening, while I was going through a massively difficult set, this conductor sits down next to me and asks:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Yeh kya hai? "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Exam ke liye English padh raha hu"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Yeh exam kab hoti hai? Kyunki tum sab poora saal yehi karte rehte ho"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jisko jab dena ho, tab exam de sakta hai."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;(Incredulous look on his face....must be thinking I am pulling a fast one on him)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Accha, to iss se english kaise seekhte hai? "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;I explained him the funda of the word in CAPS in front, and the meaning and its usage behind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Bahut accha tarika hai yeh." ...Pause... "Maine english sirf school tak padhi thi. Aur padhne ka mauka nahi mila....lekin seekhna hai. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;And I got a low-down of his life then. Just a very interesting narrative........and it was a wonderful experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Then there are &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;bullies&lt;/span&gt;......forever frowning, forever scowling, even if I told them my best PJ, they wouldn't be able to laugh. With pockets bulging with change, they'll still trouble people for exact change. Saw one some days ago....a kid asked for a half ticket. This guy instantly started shouting at him.....itna bada ho ke 11 saal ka bolta hai apne aap ko? Sharam nahi aati? blaaah blaaah.....poor kid was petrified ! He didn't ask for any ID, any proof....just let it rip !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;But imagine a job where you have to be on your toes..literally and figuratively for hours together, handle massive 4 digit transactions in petty change in each day and then account for every 25p coin that has been collected in the day, have man-management, PR, HR, time-management, deadlines, strict schedules each day, every day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;No Sundays off, face the wrath of everyone who has had a bad day, be pushed, shoved and at the end of it, get no thanks but the small salary you get to take home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its hats off to these guys........and I will miss this breed when I go abroad (hopefully, I'll get veeejhaa! ). Coz abroad, all I'll have a fat driver grinning at me when i drop my fare into a box and then tell me "Mind your Head".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Conductors, Pudhe chalaaaaa !!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(That's move forward, in Marathi....!)&lt;br /&gt;Two famous ex-conductors: Rajnikant and Johnny Lever&lt;/span&gt;                  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UAbzIrTaBV4/RhoffsYeZ7I/AAAAAAAAAAU/fPsgcSXd92A/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UAbzIrTaBV4/RhoffsYeZ7I/AAAAAAAAAAU/fPsgcSXd92A/s320/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051384561399654322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                        &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UAbzIrTaBV4/Rhof9sYeZ8I/AAAAAAAAAAc/GH8O_X1UnTw/s1600-h/johnylever-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 92px; height: 92px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UAbzIrTaBV4/Rhof9sYeZ8I/AAAAAAAAAAc/GH8O_X1UnTw/s320/johnylever-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051385076795729858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/user/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-1246470711594306618?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/1246470711594306618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=1246470711594306618' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/1246470711594306618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/1246470711594306618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2007/04/pudhe-chala.html' title='Pudhe Chala !!'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UAbzIrTaBV4/RhocAMYeZ6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/hsDRrKuMjKA/s72-c/brave2412200594214.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-7560336193416553176</id><published>2007-04-05T07:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T09:50:32.877-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life's rulebook - my learnings so far</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" &gt;Never take loans, it means you start out with a negative balance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" &gt;If you can't do what others have done, if you can't even appreciate it, ignore.....don't pull them down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;   This came from today's (April 06, 2007) viewing of Bill Gates biography on the History      Channel. Everyone kept complaining that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"  style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;BG&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; monopolized the industry..and controlled the market.....and didn't allow others to come up blah blah. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" &gt;Its a simple rule.make something better than &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;BG&lt;/span&gt; and the market will be yours. People always look out for a good deal, good value for money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;And Google did just that...........and they've not had complaints against Microsoft.....its vice-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"  style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;versa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;   Same thing &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"  style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;portrayed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; in the Aviator, Guru etc etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" &gt;Love unconditionally......get knocked out before you give it up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" &gt;Once knocked out though, make sure you don;t carry those ills into the next relationship..every one is different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Follow your gut, brain or heart whichever feels appropriate at that moment. Do what feels right, because then you will be able to defend it with valid reasons, else you'll end up saying " I don't know why I did that !" And &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;THAT's&lt;/span&gt; foolish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Follow dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work damn hard......take up jobs others won't if you FEEL its right. Sometime later, you'll realize why you FELT it was right.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I follow the policy that its better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People aren't lucky. They take up all available/difficult &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;opportunities&lt;/span&gt; and try working them to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;fruition&lt;/span&gt;, and when they succeed, people say they got lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talk to people. Make friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Offer seats in public transport to ladies (especially the old and pretty ones. They both smile very sweetly !)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lie for valid reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When all things are going wrong......start feeling happy, because the only direction things can take from there is upwards and towards better stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the best one..........the ultimate truth :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;All that happens is for good...........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;you may have to wait a minute, hour, day, month, year or longer......but be assured.....you'll realize why that particular thing happened then and you WILL be glad for it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;I'll keep updating this as and when I learn !!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;whodunlivingthislifewell ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;P.S : Someone calling himself/herself &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'youknowhu?'&lt;/span&gt; posted the following in the comments section.........the best ones are published here:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  Don’t think about what you have been, think of only what you want to be... u are sure to progress.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Never underestimate to brain of a kid, he can shove things up right at your face and u will be left speechless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(I would use juniors, instead of kid)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Adapting to changing lifestyles is the only way we can survive!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Trying to understand problems from someone else’s point of view helps you grow to be a better human being.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Never give up your friends in the process of falling in love because if it weren’t for them, you wouldn’t be who you are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Do not brood over spilt milk, I disagree… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Brooding helps you understand what you did wrong n helps you grow!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Never let someone come in the way of your career, maybe they may not exist tomorrow, but your career will help you live!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Life is only a bed of thorns. To get accustomed to it, one needs to walk through it rather than running away!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Life doesn’t give you an option for who's your parents, your neighbours, your school etc… it gives you a choice in two things, your career and your friends. Make them both right because that’s what’s mould you into who you are!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Love unconditionally because without falling in love you would never know what it means to get hurt!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If something hurts, stop, think rationally n then proceed in what you do; trust me rational thinking never goes wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Two things to be remembered: Never make promises when your happy n never take decisions when your angry!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Never make promises such that you can never fulfill... it’ll pinch you later... n when it pinches, it pinches swell hard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-7560336193416553176?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/7560336193416553176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=7560336193416553176' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/7560336193416553176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/7560336193416553176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2007/04/lifes-rulebook-my-learnings-so-far.html' title='Life&apos;s rulebook - my learnings so far'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-6165536425527226929</id><published>2007-02-07T10:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T12:32:08.362-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lifestyles</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;This post is something close to my heart. Had a long discussion about this with my project partner during our after dinner walk (constitutional, as he was wont to call it !) at Kamats in Nasik. We were talking about how we can spend our life.......there are so many ways to do it !! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;(The lists has all "he's" but that is only for my convenience ! I believe in the equality of genders !)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new;"&gt;1) The dedicated dude:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;He's the guy who aced his playschool, topped school, reads Einstein's theories  books for "light reading", was the apple of the professors eye in Science college, obtained a Bachelors, Master's, Ph. D, and various other honorary degrees, all in the same field. He spends his life behind reasoning out why the 34th atom in the 19th hexadivision of a pint of distilled oxy-picholly-drunxeg-zhelkane rotates clockwise, instead of anti-clockwise. He may, at the end of his life, figure it out.......for which he gets a prize, his name in bright lights, some money, rights, maybe a physical quantity named after him, gaalis from students after him who are made to study his research........all work and no play, makes Jack a "dedicated dude". His kind is needed for the progress of mankind.....Thomas Alva Edison, A.P.J. Kalam etc. They live their passion, and dedicate their life to the service and betterment of others. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: courier new;"&gt;Hallmarks:Supreme sacrifice and selflessness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drawbacks: No quality family life, no enjoyment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new;"&gt;2) The entrepreneur-esque dude:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;He's the boy-next-door with dreams out-of-the-world. Normal kid, does everything in moderation.....but secretly burns the midnight oil, fuelling his passion. Goes through the routine of college, getting a degree or two, but once he has something to fall back upon, he lets loose. Working 28 hours in a day of 24 hrs, he sets up his dream, finances it, runs it, sees it grow. He gets a name for himself, earns piles of money, can afford the flashiest of stuff. But he won't have the time to enjoy it. Because if you own something, and know it will grow, you WILL strive for it to grow. And then it becomes a part of you. As addictive as gambling, people ruin their lives by creating behemoths which take up all their time. And by the time you finally decide to let go, you are too old, too spent to enjoy what you've missed. And then your kids come in, squander your money, break up your estate.......and your dream.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: courier new;"&gt;Hallmark: Lives his passion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drawbacks: Can't enjoy the fruits&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new;"&gt;3) The "work-hard, party-harder" dude.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;The hardest worker in the office, smart dude who climbs quickly up the corporate ladder, is an asset to his organisation, help to his boss,  respected by his juniors, recognised in the company he works for with some awards etc. But the moment he leaves office and reaches home, its a morph! The  dude who goes out and has a wild time with his pals.....jus hanging around, having fun, or the family guy....goes home and spends quality time wid his wife and kids......sees his kids go off to bed, kisses his wife good night etc etc...He lives the good life.........doesnt have a private jet, but can afford a commercial flight, doesnt have a Ferrari, but his BMW sedan suits him just fine....you get the pic?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new;"&gt;Hallmark:  Gets the best out of life, a good work life as well as a good family/friend (social) life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drawback: Can't live his passion, his actual potential remains untapped.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new;"&gt;4) The bare minimum dude.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Earns enough to sustain himself........and his family...........wont come in before 9, wont leave after 5, will do only whats assigned to him.....nothing more, sometimes less. The ambitionless guy.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new;"&gt;Hallmark: Total aaram&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drawback: Lazy dude........just wastes his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;All of us have the option of living either of these 4 types of lives. I'd love to live life # 2, but will settle for life # 3. (I like comforts!!) What about you??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;P.S : If you can help me add more lifestyles..........I'd gladly add them. Please put them in the same format I have used here. Thank you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-6165536425527226929?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/6165536425527226929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=6165536425527226929' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/6165536425527226929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/6165536425527226929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2007/02/lifestyles.html' title='Lifestyles'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-3117707847495035110</id><published>2007-01-31T12:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-31T14:14:37.416-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Purgings'/><title type='text'>Lies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new;"&gt;I learnt to say them when I was a kid&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;. When I was 5 yrs old, helping mom put the vegetables she had bought in the fridge....and when i ate one tomato....and mom asked, "what did you do? " And I replied back with my "oh-so-innocent eyes" and tomato juice dribbling down my mouth " Nothing Mummy".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I lied &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new;"&gt;through school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; I lied to teachers to save my skin at times.....lied to my parents when I went out onto the road for the first time with my cycle instead of remaining in the compound. That way, I learnt cycling. And I became very very good at it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I used to be too full in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new;"&gt;Std 1.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; Couldn't complete my tiffin......so used to throw out mah rice! And tell mom, I ate. Obviously, someone's mom told my mom and I was caught out. Spanked. Never did it again. Throwing out the rice.......that is!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new;"&gt;Std 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;. I fell in love with a girl. Told m bench partner about it. She asks me " You are going to fall in love with Shweta no ? " (WE were in Std 2. Didnt know tenses / grammer too well). And I say " No. Am already in love with her". So bench mate tells Shweta, Shweta tells Mrs. Panjwani " Miss that boy loves me" and Mrs. P makes me stand up and says " You come to school to learn or fall in love ? " Being a conscientious student, this made me say " To study , Miss" If I had lied....izzat bachti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Std 4. Std. 5. Std 6. All through school.........and at home, petty things were lied for and about. Everyone does it. I know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new;"&gt;Std 11&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;. I got hitched. Lied to mommy and pops....she's just a good friend. Lied to classmates....arre, I have some work. But I never lied to her !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new;"&gt;Std 12.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; I lied to myself. Said that this r'ship is more important than my IIT studies. Studies happen...always.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new;"&gt;Good lie : &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;it taught me a lot about etiquette...being polished, courteous....the finer nuances neccesary.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new;"&gt;FY Mech Engg :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; Lied to college friends.......am goin home........while I obviously went out to meet her and be with her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new;"&gt;SY Mech Engg:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; Lied to college friends......fewer in number now: am going out. Well, it was a half truth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Then in the latter half of SY Mech, I realize I was being lied to. That hurt. I tried to not lie from then on. Didnt happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Then as the year progressed, lies upon lies were being heaped upon me. I realized what it means to be lied to. I stopped. I made efforts to be honest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new;"&gt;Final Year Mech Engg:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; I was completely honest. Honest with my friends, my profs. So my friends complemented me for my honesty......and I got a kick on mah ass. My prof acted weird, made me pay the price for being honest in telling him that I will be 5 minutes late in meeting you sir. He made me run around like crazy for months for what he was going to do. I get honest with people these days with my feelings or expectations. I've heard stuff about me from them...that's not very pleasant. People play Chinese Whispers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;So lies serve me well, at the others' cost. Truth gives me instantaneous exalted status, but screws me later on. What to do ? Lie and hurt others? Be selfish ? Or keep gettin jacked yourself?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I began at 5. I learnt at 21. This is what they call politics.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;whodunthis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: courier new;"&gt;truenfalse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-3117707847495035110?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/3117707847495035110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=3117707847495035110' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/3117707847495035110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/3117707847495035110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2007/01/lies.html' title='Lies'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056642745082759614.post-2926444375909596001</id><published>2007-01-29T11:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-31T12:22:36.427-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random ramblings'/><title type='text'>Why I did this</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Why did I create a blog?&lt;/span&gt; I, who told someone a few days back....I don't like to make my thoughts public....they are for my personal consumption. I, who has never maintained a diary. I, who never wrote essays in school (I used to opt for stories....I was pretty good at that! ).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Its mainly for introspection..&lt;/span&gt;...so that I can pen my thoughts on paper (keyboard - we need to update our English usage and contexts !) and then read em whenever I feel like later......look upon them....in a sense, this is my first private diary...a public private diary!  This is  a paradox.....and I love them.......because they make life so interesting....! In fact,  a lot of life is a paradox , or something to that effect!!  For example, in the previous sentence I used "In fact". Have I proven the fact? No. Is it a fact? Its relative. But that's a paradox!! Facts are facts....they can't change! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And I love this flow of words..&lt;/span&gt;..........its a rush for me to think that I may be able to open blogspot when I am 60....show my grandkids (if they are interested...) what their grandpa used to do when he was 21....and alone at home at night, listening to songs given to him that evening by someone who he met online 6 months ago, and has become very very close to.......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Its a rush thinking......"grandpa!! what shit you wrote! " or "grandpa.....u wrote so well!! "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Why did I start this blog?? Because &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ometimes I get real good thoughts....&lt;/span&gt;and I would love sharing them with everyone! Like, I thought today: While you eat your food, concentrate only on what's in your mouth. Taste the flavours....figure out what is in your food.....don't think about your next bite! Attempt to take the next bite only when you've finished what's in your mouth. I extended the line of thought and realized.......its a good lesson for life! Live in the present, do what's presently on don't worry about the future! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Did I talk of paradox?&lt;/span&gt; The previous para, I talk about living in the present....and in the one above it, I talk about grandkids reading my blog, 39 years down the line!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whodunthisblog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3056642745082759614-2926444375909596001?l=whodunit-ps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/feeds/2926444375909596001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3056642745082759614&amp;postID=2926444375909596001' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/2926444375909596001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3056642745082759614/posts/default/2926444375909596001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whodunit-ps.blogspot.com/2007/01/why-i-did-this.html' title='Why I did this'/><author><name>whodunit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06208936207198763601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
