<?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-8680207291046432661</id><updated>2011-08-01T15:35:17.005-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I ME and MYSELF</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Anup Mohan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07372973724591686295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SHRhUbDCmpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/poZArBtMFac/S220/Z1fbf7k3.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>19</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8680207291046432661.post-7532192864533781026</id><published>2009-10-23T05:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T06:03:15.277-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Creative Nonsense –</title><content type='html'>A lot of time and a wild imagination is what is creating this new trend of what I would like to politely call the creative Nonsense. It’s everywhere. One can find it on emails, on social networking sites and video streaming websites. It is ‘Nonsense’ because it adds no functional value to any form of human activity that can be described within the realm of ‘sanity’. It is ‘creative’ because…well because it’s just creative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were all made to learn and recite poems in kindergarten. The one thing that we associated with a poem was the constant rhyming of the words with which the lines would end. It used to amaze us to no extent. I came across such a poem on the internet and thought I should share it with you. The beauty of this poem is –‘It does not rhyme’ by itself but the person who reads it somehow magically finds the corresponding rhyming word but beware the meaning is never the same if you change the words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here goes the POEM -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was an old farmer who lived on a "Rock";&lt;br /&gt;He sat in the meadow; just shaking his - ;&lt;br /&gt;fist at some boys; who were down by the “Crick”;&lt;br /&gt;Their feet in the water; and the hands on their - :&lt;br /&gt;marbles and playthings; and at half past at 'four';&lt;br /&gt;There came a young lady; she looked like a - :&lt;br /&gt;pretty young creature; she sat on the 'Grass';&lt;br /&gt;She pulled up her dress; and showed them her - :&lt;br /&gt;ruffles and laces; and white fluffy 'Duck'&lt;br /&gt;She said she was learning; a new way to - :&lt;br /&gt;bring up her children; so they would not 'spit';&lt;br /&gt;While the boys in the farmyard; were shoveling - :&lt;br /&gt;refuse and litter; from yesterdays 'hunt';&lt;br /&gt;While the girl in the meadows was rubbing her - ;&lt;br /&gt;eyes at the fellow; down by the ‘dock’&lt;br /&gt;He looked like a man with a sizable - ;&lt;br /&gt;home in the country; with a big fence out ‘front’;&lt;br /&gt;If he asked her politely; she would show him her - ;&lt;br /&gt;little pet dog; who was subject to ‘fits’;&lt;br /&gt;And may be she let him; grab hold of her - ;&lt;br /&gt;small tender hands; with the movements so ‘quick’&lt;br /&gt;And then would bend over; and suck on his - ;&lt;br /&gt;Candy; so tasty made of butter ‘scotch’;&lt;br /&gt;And then he would spread whipped cream all over her - ;&lt;br /&gt;cookies that she had left; out on her ‘shelf’&lt;br /&gt;If you think this is dirty; you can go f**k yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apart from the obvious starred word in the end of the Poem, the remaining writing seems very normal and the story too seems very mundane. But as most of you might have realized by now, nothing is what it seems to be. If you havent figured it out yet; "May God Bless You" and if you have then you know; you are already 'Blessed'. It does bring out the pervert in you and my friend this is what I call “CREATIVE NONSENSE”…..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8680207291046432661-7532192864533781026?l=anupmohan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/feeds/7532192864533781026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8680207291046432661&amp;postID=7532192864533781026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/7532192864533781026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/7532192864533781026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/2009/10/creative-nonsense.html' title='Creative Nonsense –'/><author><name>Anup Mohan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07372973724591686295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SHRhUbDCmpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/poZArBtMFac/S220/Z1fbf7k3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8680207291046432661.post-7380889821616191455</id><published>2009-10-12T00:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T00:37:15.204-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE LOST GENERATION</title><content type='html'>I am the part of a lost generation &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I refuse to believe that,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can change the world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize this may be a shock but&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Happiness comes from within"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is a lie, and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Money will make me happy"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in 30 Years I will tell my Children&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they are not the most important thing in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My employer will know that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have my priorities straight because&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;work&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is more important than&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;family&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell you this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once Upon a time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Families stayed together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but this will not be true in my era&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is a quick fix society&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Experts tell me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30 years from now i will be celebrating the 10th anniversary of my divorce&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not concede that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will live in a country of my own making&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the future&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Environmental destruction will be the norm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No longer can it be said that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My peers and I care about this earth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It will be evident that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My generation is apathatic and lethargic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is foolish to presume that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is HOPE...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all this will come true unless we choose to reverse it... ( read it from bottom to top now) !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have to decide should we be the LOST GENERATION ???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Answer is "NO" there is still time and hope...!!!! reverse the destruction..save the planet..!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8680207291046432661-7380889821616191455?l=anupmohan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/feeds/7380889821616191455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8680207291046432661&amp;postID=7380889821616191455' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/7380889821616191455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/7380889821616191455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/2009/10/lost-generation.html' title='THE LOST GENERATION'/><author><name>Anup Mohan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07372973724591686295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SHRhUbDCmpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/poZArBtMFac/S220/Z1fbf7k3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8680207291046432661.post-2449754047069945232</id><published>2009-09-30T23:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T23:50:28.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lost Symbol –</title><content type='html'>The only ‘thing /one’ that seems to be lost in the novel is the ‘unfortunate reader’. Despite the hype that surrounded its release, the book could hardly be called a best seller as far literature is concerned. It seems that the Author is trying to carve a niche for himself in the good books of the Vatican after his first novel very clearly earned its wrath. ‘Spirituality and Suspense’ is a tough combination to put together for a masterpiece. It has been tried in the past as well but Dan Brown in the latest book misses the bulls-eye by 3000 miles and 2 centuries (in his own words).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            Being a Dan Brown book and with Robert Langdon as its protagonist, it does validate the hype with regards to academic potential and raw volume of facts presented to the user. With a detailed description of the architecture of Washington D.C and its connection to Rome, the current developments in ‘Neotic Science’ where harnessing the minds infinite potential is the supreme objective, the secret society of Masons and Smithsons, their illustrious legacies and symbolic yet shocking initiation rituals and the frequent reference to various religious texts from various parts of the world are quite the read. It would be unfair to say that the author did not do a complete research on his subject. The detailed descriptions of the various aspects mentioned above are mind boggling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the Author missed is on the plot. There is the ultra modern and highly sophisticated unit of the CIA investigating a ‘national emergency’ and yet at various places one can find their behavior more childish than amateurish. CIA seems to have the technology to have an EMP gun mounted on a helicopter yet not the presence of mind to triangulate a simple phone call. One of the most influential persons in the world did not get a postmortem or a DNA test done on the dead and mutilated body of a person whom the prison authorities in Turkey claimed to be his son. This list of goof ups in the plot is endless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            If one has read the Author before then it can be seen that there is not much difference in the narration style with  sudden last moment revelations of various obviously ‘staring at your face but you dint notice’ kind of facts. As is with most of his books there are a lot of puzzles involved most of them pertaining to symbols and its history and its relevance to the Human history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            Be that as it may, what separates this book from the rest of Dan Brown’s work is that the centralized theme here is the ‘power of human mind’. There are discussion in depth about the so called “wisdom of the ancient mysteries” which deals basically with spirituality and its implication in the day to day world and about people who knew about the importance of Spiritual Intelligence and its awesome constructive as well as its destructive powers. Most of this spiritual learning, in this case is based on the “Bible”; though there are reference to other religious texts as well. It does seem like a futile effort on the part of the Author to glorify the spiritual side of the “Bible’.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;            The ending is quite unlike Dan Brown. The book has around 115 chapters and the major plot (the plot to rescue the world from total chaos) ends by the 111th chapter. The remaining 4 Chapters which consume around 50 pages are like an epilogue which, to the user might initially seem like a treasure hunt but as it progresses; one can find the treasure does not actually exist, there is just the illusion of its presence. One almost feels like reading a Spiritual text and not a Suspense Thriller.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            To summarize, the book is like the quest for ‘wisdom’ for the uninitiated; a maze where every corner promises to reveal a great mystery but instead reveals the location to another magical corner and the seeker is lost in this never ending maze. As for those who have actually acquired it (wisdom) this book is no “Armageddon”.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8680207291046432661-2449754047069945232?l=anupmohan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/feeds/2449754047069945232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8680207291046432661&amp;postID=2449754047069945232' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/2449754047069945232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/2449754047069945232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/2009/09/lost-symbol.html' title='The Lost Symbol –'/><author><name>Anup Mohan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07372973724591686295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SHRhUbDCmpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/poZArBtMFac/S220/Z1fbf7k3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8680207291046432661.post-1801955002600840303</id><published>2009-09-28T23:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T23:49:16.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>India and the Champions Trophy –</title><content type='html'>“In India cricket is not just a sport, it’s a religion”. This is a statement that one can come across numerous times in various blogs and newspaper articles. It seems that the very people who are supposed to uphold the pillars of this religion and lift them to the sky are the one’s digging its grave. The high priest of this religion aka – The Indian Cricket Team, a squad of elite few who are chosen from a crowd of millions to carry on the light of this religion to the future seem to be faltering in their journey. It was quite obviously a marketing decision to put arch rivals India and Pakistan in the same group and if that wasn’t enough, India’s opening match of the tournament was also against them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            Winning or Losing has always been part and parcel of any sport. What matters most is the attitude of the sides playing. India were the hot favorites as they were ranked ‘1’ in the ICC cricket ranking (surprisingly..!!). That’s the thing with the ICT, when they start as hero’s they have this unique knack of making a fool of themselves and it has been proved time and again. This time was no different. The beauty of this game is that even-though it takes a total 100 overs to complete a match, however sometimes one can decide the outcome even before a single ball is bowled, i.e, at the toss. Whatever may be the cause, the team lost and with the last match being washed off due to rain the chances of India reaching the Semi’s are not only difficult but rather impossible(true Bollywood style).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            The attitude is the most important part of any team, winning or losing regardless. One of the reasons that the ICT could make to the top if the ICC table of rankings was also due to their fearless attitude. However they seem to be loosing it. The excuses given by the captain for the defeat were poor even by previous ICT’s standards. He should have been bold enough to confess that they played real poor cricket and let the country down. Had they focused more on the game than on scoring game on television, the result might have been different. This confession at-least would have helped them score some points with the public of the country for admitting their failure and taking responsibility for it. Instead he made a mockery of himself by saying “I did not know so many runs could be scored at the backward point region (priceless..!!!).” Or “We were three bowlers short (yes as most of the teams these days play 8 bowlers and the team consists of 14 players.)”. It was sad that they lost but what was worse was the attitude towards the defeat. May be the team should be shown video’s of their previous exploits where they had played like true champions and probably that might help them see the light. Whatever be the course of action if the team does not get their attitude back on track, they downfall is eminent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8680207291046432661-1801955002600840303?l=anupmohan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/feeds/1801955002600840303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8680207291046432661&amp;postID=1801955002600840303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/1801955002600840303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/1801955002600840303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/2009/09/india-and-champions-trophy.html' title='India and the Champions Trophy –'/><author><name>Anup Mohan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07372973724591686295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SHRhUbDCmpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/poZArBtMFac/S220/Z1fbf7k3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8680207291046432661.post-6684749936236275724</id><published>2009-09-24T23:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T23:19:59.735-07:00</updated><title type='text'>“Almost Single”….A Review!!</title><content type='html'>For those of you who like “sex and the city” and were wondering if an Indian version of it would ever be available, there is good news. “Almost Single” comes pretty close to the Indian version of it. If I could summarize the book in one sentence it would be “Sex and the Indian City with a happy ending”. There is a lot less of ‘sex’ but pretty much the same amount of melodrama and bitching as the original American version.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           The protagonist in this case happens to be from the “Hospitality Industry” The story revolves around three single women in their late twenties or early thirties living in the big bad city all by them-selves. Though they have a traditional upbringing; all of them broke free of the regional fetters in the search of a life which they would lead on their own terms. The ‘single and ready to mingle’ status of their personal life also brings them to lock horns with their traditional belief system and the modern lifestyle they seem to have so naturally adapted to. Another important and very widely know fact that this book underlines (especially for men) is that women are “complicated” so trying to decipher them is not only difficult but rather ‘impossible’. Most of the times even women find it difficult understand each other, what chance could a Man have then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         As the story unfolds; there are many instances that the reader might find that the character’s are in a state of moral or ethical dilemma. Their intellect; being the source of their pride and ego tells them to act in self interest while their heart, the seat of their emotional intelligence tells them to act in self less interest. Thus we have a series of events where there is an identity crisis between the Modern day working corporate woman and the traditional home-making women as both these personalities are manifested in the characters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        The language used very simple and straight forward and the use of humor with a slight touch of sarcasm is also refreshing. There are some lines that were really worth the read such as – “These days when women say the word ‘dil-do’ the certainly aren’t taking in ‘Hindi’ and most definitely not talking about the ‘heart’” or “ There comes a time in a women’s life where she has to go from searching for Mr. Right to going for Mr. Right Now.”…..etc. It also highlights the viewpoints of the present day youth with regards to life, love and marriage where ‘sexual compatibility’ with a probable husband is as important as their ‘horoscope compatibility’. There are some instances in the narration where the author has gone a little over board with a situation and made it look like a scene out of a ‘Bollywood flick’ but then keeping in mind the target audience its not that atrocious. There is also a highlight on the difference between the western dating system and the Indian system of arranged marriage with pros and cons discussed in depth with examples for both. The icing in the cake here is that the book has a Happy Ending or at least the reader is made to believe so and that adds a feel good factor to the book. To summarize, not a bad read especially if you want to catch up with the gossip and lingo of the cosmopolitan India.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8680207291046432661-6684749936236275724?l=anupmohan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/feeds/6684749936236275724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8680207291046432661&amp;postID=6684749936236275724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/6684749936236275724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/6684749936236275724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/2009/09/almost-singlea-review.html' title='“Almost Single”….A Review!!'/><author><name>Anup Mohan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07372973724591686295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SHRhUbDCmpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/poZArBtMFac/S220/Z1fbf7k3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8680207291046432661.post-738257308018107136</id><published>2009-09-24T00:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T00:32:01.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Day that Wasn’t ..!!</title><content type='html'>Now that I have successfully accepted the fact that my undergraduate degree for which I had slogged for 4 years (not necessarily studying but there sure was a lot of slogging) is not enough anymore for either the personal or the professional market, I have finally decided to do something about it. The recent recession that has taken the worlds financial markets along with it for a ride has indeed created a creator in our lives and consequently also raised the bar for employability. Hence eventually after a lot of debate, (mostly with my mom, though she wants me to do the MBA for a totally diff reason) I have finally decided to give the GMAT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            Its quite an irony to see that while the recessions was at its peak with salary cuts and no perks all lined up to make the life of everyone miserable the so called ‘working class’ that is ‘us’ managed to attend office more regularly than usual. As we near the end of the financial year people are worried about the lapse of the leaves that they so willing did not take. This has led to the so called ‘ I am not well and wont be coming to the office today’ syndrome though in reality the only thing that is not well is the leave planning ability of such people which so very obviously includes me. Thus to conclude I took a day off yesterday for no apparent reason except for all the outgoing calls from my other end were free and frequent(if u know what I am talking abt) but that’s hardly a reason for a leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     I tried to invest my free time for my career as I decided to check out the various GMAT coaching centers, the course material and of course do my laundry as well. A skill that is of utmost important for GMAT is the ability to write a good essay. Not just write whatever comes to your mind, but to write it in such a way that the frustrated reader also gets a piece of your mind. The worst part is that there is a word limit, and I do believe that is fair as well. You can’t expect the reader not to have a life, though most of them don’t but then you cant be sure. So I start with this lame attempt to write the events of the day into a structurally well crafted blog so that with time I improve in writing and am able to write a decent SOP if required.  The tone of this blog might seem very pessimistic but that’s the effect the office and a really crappy manager might have on you. I promise to improve in the future blogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            Taking time off just for the sake of it is a relatively new concept. However in a very short duration of its arrival it has accumulated quite a following. The only sad part is that if you are single and are into the habit of reading; such a time off might end up fueling your melancholy and thus driving you into further frustration; so always make sure there is something or someone to keep you company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            The highlight of the day for me yesterday however was the class I had at the end of the day (and of course the traffic jam I was in, on the way). Finally we have started on the “Samba” my favorite amongst the latin dances. I was quite happy to begin with as my moves were quite appreciated by my fellow dancers but very soon I saw my pride take big tumbling when My Teacher reprimanded me for some audacious moves that I was doing thinking it would be cool. Be that as it may the class was pretty cool and the coffee after the class was also ok. I need to open up more to the people in the school. Its hard sometimes to change your habits so quickly but for me now it’s a necessity and that ladies and gentlemen is the grandmother of invention. Lets Hope things turn up for the better tomorrow. All fingers crossed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8680207291046432661-738257308018107136?l=anupmohan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/feeds/738257308018107136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8680207291046432661&amp;postID=738257308018107136' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/738257308018107136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/738257308018107136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/2009/09/day-that-wasnt.html' title='The Day that Wasn’t ..!!'/><author><name>Anup Mohan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07372973724591686295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SHRhUbDCmpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/poZArBtMFac/S220/Z1fbf7k3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8680207291046432661.post-6644250502373757606</id><published>2009-08-28T01:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T01:50:00.921-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Twitter – the Public Private life of people…</title><content type='html'>Tooter and some of my misinformed friends call it this day has turned out to be a major global phenomenon. Initially I joined in to see what the fuss was all about, now that I am almost addicted to it, I still cant figure it out. Whats the fun in micro-bloging anyway. There is only so much that one can convey and more often than not its either WTF or a proverb copied from some website ( usually the first one u get on Google search).  Be that as it way people flock to it like mosquitoes to sewage. May be its that people are getting a platform to vent out their frustration and hence come to know abt ppl who are even more frustrated then derive a sadistic pleasure out of it or may be it’s the sense of excitement that comes in making ur very private life public or reading abt somebody else’s private life and in the process satisfying the voyeur in you. In either case I don’t see any positive outcome from it. I still prefer the good-ol blogging culture where for writing one you really have to sit down storm your brain and then find words to match ur emotions and then pen it down. May be I am sounding too damn negative but that’s probably because of the cold from the previous  blog hasn’t felt me but I have resolved to break the silence though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8680207291046432661-6644250502373757606?l=anupmohan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/feeds/6644250502373757606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8680207291046432661&amp;postID=6644250502373757606' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/6644250502373757606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/6644250502373757606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/2009/08/twitter-public-private-life-of-people.html' title='Twitter – the Public Private life of people…'/><author><name>Anup Mohan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07372973724591686295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SHRhUbDCmpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/poZArBtMFac/S220/Z1fbf7k3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8680207291046432661.post-2011123525609424165</id><published>2009-08-28T01:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T01:15:24.287-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cold Silence…</title><content type='html'>Yes I have a cold and believe it or not I spent the whole day in silence. Usually my trips to the Mumbai Airport are eventful with me happening to have a glance on some celebrity or another. I love to travel but I equally hate traveling alone and most of my trips to Mumbai Airport, the one’s where I take the flight have been alone. What was worse this time was that I had a cold as well. I don’t think there is anything interesting abt getting a cold and traveling and in the process risking all the other passengers on board to ur disease, especially with pigs flying in the air, but WTF I had to go home and come what may I would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Airports have two things that make it a place apart from any of the other traveling station, firstly they are very clean, we don’t want to give the firangs who land here the wrong impression, at-least not this soon, and secondly they are very expensive, after all we do want to make the firangs feel at home. Just out side the Airport terminal in Mumbai there is a coffee shop. Just 10 steps away from the terminal and very well camouflaged by a huge tree. Somehow I picked up its scent (despite the cold) and had my breakfast there for just 35 bucks. Well I was impressed, not with the taste; that was pathetic similar to what they have inside the airport, but instead with the contrast. Here we have all the ground crews of all the airlines having their good ‘ol time-pass laughing, gossiping, smoking… where as inside the ccd’s and Baristas, we find the cabin crew and the likes do their tp mostly in silence or hushed tones.  This place though looks and feels shabby also made me feel at home unlike the inside where ppl don’t talk, not even smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Anyways moving along I finally got aboard my aircraft and for the first time in my Airlife I got to sit next to a girl or a lady.  And what do I do, I spend the rest of the flight in absolute silence, contemplating what I should have done and what would have resulted out of it much like the film ‘next’. On my defense the lady was also not very talkable as well (if you what I mean).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; There is one thing that I had always wondered when I am flying. Why do people put cotton in the ear’s when flying? This was the flight that the Devine chose to reveal that secret to me in all its glorious form much like what Krishna did to Arjuna in middle of the krukshetra war. I had an ear pain so bad I though being deaf would have been a better option. Partly due to my cold and the other part due to my ignorance which I so arrogantly flaunt. Touching ground never felt so soothing and relieving after the almost frigid woman sitting next to me and my excruciating ear pain, oh and did I mention there was a baby in the seat just behind me. And what do baby’s do in a flight, they don’t cry they roar. To put it in a nutshell and throw it out of the window, my journey sucked ..big time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8680207291046432661-2011123525609424165?l=anupmohan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/feeds/2011123525609424165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8680207291046432661&amp;postID=2011123525609424165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/2011123525609424165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/2011123525609424165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/2009/08/cold-silence.html' title='Cold Silence…'/><author><name>Anup Mohan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07372973724591686295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SHRhUbDCmpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/poZArBtMFac/S220/Z1fbf7k3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8680207291046432661.post-7569746761732042464</id><published>2009-07-17T05:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T05:26:55.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Insignificant....I dont think so</title><content type='html'>Its quite an irony how some of the most important things and specifications in the world are a direct aftermerth of the most insignificant events.....well everyone knows the specifications of the modern day transportation is derived from the width of a horses ass that the Roman charriots were built on....i can give numerous such examples to proove my point ...this leads to a conclusion that apparently nothing in this world is insignificant......wht made me ponder at this point is a recent meeting we had with our supervisors in the US. He apparently wanted to build a team in a domain that the whole company and probably later the whole industry might want to emulate.....the paradigms set were very straight forwrd .....and it was us who would have to strive to make it a reality..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  None of us take our work lightly (period)...but the continuous hype and the unwanted tech jargon associated with the team that is being built sometimes makes us wonder if its all gonna be just heat with no light comming out of it.....slowly but surely we did realise that the materialisation of the team was insignificant for us and hence we gave the least thought and priority for its formation........we were expected to build the fondation for what is supposed to be a mighty castle made of stone....and wht we are building is the foundation for a roadside temporary shelter......compared to the requirement of the original task our efforts are infact insignificant...but it is for that very reason that i believe that....the formation of this team would be inevitable....not only that it would be such a success that sooner or later it would be a standard....and we would have been the poineers of it.......little does the world realise how insignificant we the poineers consider this task to be.......!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8680207291046432661-7569746761732042464?l=anupmohan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/feeds/7569746761732042464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8680207291046432661&amp;postID=7569746761732042464' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/7569746761732042464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/7569746761732042464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/2009/07/insignificanti-dont-think-so.html' title='Insignificant....I dont think so'/><author><name>Anup Mohan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07372973724591686295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SHRhUbDCmpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/poZArBtMFac/S220/Z1fbf7k3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8680207291046432661.post-2597947419198754754</id><published>2009-06-03T02:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T04:50:29.087-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The WEDDING...!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Statutory&lt;/span&gt; Warning&lt;/strong&gt; - The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;story&lt;/span&gt; is not a fiction and any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;character&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;resemblance&lt;/span&gt; in real life is purely intentional. The shadow of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;sarcasm&lt;/span&gt; used is purely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;imaginary&lt;/span&gt; ( thanks to the fake &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ipl&lt;/span&gt; player) and no harm is intended to anyone. In &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;any case&lt;/span&gt; i do apologies if it goes against the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;sentiments&lt;/span&gt; of any of the readers .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its a widely known fact that the best way to experience India is to travel along the length and breadth of the country in the mode of transport we all lovingly call The Indian Railways. Apparently some foreigner must have run out of cash to have to endure the gruesome experience of experiencing India this way. Be that as it may for most of us Indians, its not just another means of transportation but a way of life (If I might say so). Whatever be the destination every journey made in the train always has some story to tell. Ours began from the place we call &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Pune&lt;/span&gt; Junction. We were to travel to Bhopal to attend our colleagues’s ( its not a typo FYI) wedding. Yes 2 of our colleagues. And yes it was their marriage. A moment comes, but rarely in the life of a person when one is to attend a wedding from Groom’s as well as the Brides side and we were fortunate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;enuf&lt;/span&gt; to be blessed with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our train was to depart at quarter to six and we were still waiting for one of our friends to join in (there were 5 of us and apparently only 4 had made to the stationary train). But as our dearest Dr.Murphy ( I don’t know if he really is a doctor but adding a doctor to the name gives more authenticity and the dude must be pretty smart to say whatever he said…anyways) so as our Dr. Murphy once said “ If anything can go wrong, it probably will go wrong” and this was just the beginning. Our 5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; compatriot had lost her way (yes ..it was a she..!!) and was gallivanting around the station instead of just walking in to the train that was standing right in front of her eyes. And as luck would have she went straight into the hands of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;TT&lt;/span&gt;( not literally….but u get the point..) who &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;wudnt&lt;/span&gt; let her go unless she produces the ticket. The ticket she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t have and the same ticket that was in my bag, back in the train while I was on my way to find this lost soul. She was smart enough to ensure that the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;TT&lt;/span&gt; does not let her go no matter what and from that moment it was pretty evident that a verbal duel would be required to save the day. Much to my disappointment not much of that was required and a simple request did the trick. Its funny what amount of change can be brought in a person just by showing some humility fake or other-wise. And thus began our journey to BHOPAL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I should have introduced us (the fantastic 5) much earlier but as they say better late than never. Well as you have guessed by now (…duh!) that on of them is a girl and in this story she is named Miss Clueless ( its my story and I have the right to give the names as well). This is me Mr Sarcasm/Screw-Up (actually I prefer the name – The heart break kid but that’s too much of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;cliché&lt;/span&gt; and a bit too damn long..). There were 2more players here, one named Mr. Gentle Giant(&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;GG&lt;/span&gt;), and the other Mr. Sloth for obvious reasons. Mr.Sloth was the only married man amongst us and his wife Mrs &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Coolhead&lt;/span&gt; S ( S standing for the husbands name as is tradition in India.) They were quite an unusual pair and many a times I did wonder how they got along. But the fact remains that they got along pretty well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all the hustle and tussle at the station the train finally left the station for its destination. Now it was time for us to prove it to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;TT&lt;/span&gt; that we were indeed destined to travel in this very train seated exactly where we were. How is this done? Simple, just show the ticket. Well here unfolds drama part 2. Since we had booked the ticket online one of us supposedly had to show proof of identification while producing the tickets. Upon insistence from Mr S our Mr &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;GG&lt;/span&gt; was all set to produce the piece of paper that would prove the confirmation of his existence. To everyone’s surprise ( Horror..!! is the right word here but it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;wud&lt;/span&gt; be a little exaggeration…) our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;GG&lt;/span&gt;’s name was not there in the ticket at all. Of all the 5 of us that were to travel, he was the only one who did not have his name in the ticket and yet was the first to show the proof that will prove us guilty of ticket-less travel and that too upon the insistence from Mr S. ( Apparently Mr. S had cancelled the wrong tickets a couple days ago…..and u were wondering why we call him Mr S……well now u know)….We all tried to act super cool and composed and thought that the hypothetical chill thus crated will eventually freeze him(the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;TT&lt;/span&gt;) from fining us. And as usual Mr S’s ( in case u r still wondering. its Mr Sloth) Plans were in ruins….we had to pay a hefty fine and had to verbally console each other saying that shit happens….but deep down inside we knew that we worked really hard to make this shit happen. ( If only &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;GG&lt;/span&gt; had not shown the id card all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;wud&lt;/span&gt; have gone well…). Once we came back to our senses, accepting our defeat and stupidity in not being able to screw up the situation any further we resumed our journey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The remaining part of the journey was more or less &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;eventless&lt;/span&gt; ( and we thank god for that…&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;cas&lt;/span&gt; the kind of events that were happening to us, we were determined to keep further ones from happening)….we just gambled our way to sleep with a touch of dumb-charade being our lullaby. I was almost about to close my eyes when our dear Miss Clueless suddenly came to senses and wanted to talk…..and we did talk for precisely three thousand six hundred seconds…..what did we talk &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;abt&lt;/span&gt;…well that’s for us to know and for u to keep wondering. And thus we finally we reached BHOPAL..!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is sometimes said that India is such a vast country that it not only exists in large geographical proportions but also in multiple eras ( confused.!!..well that was the intention as well..) Here one can see two centuries living &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;parallely&lt;/span&gt; in complete harmony. We have the 21st century technology co existing with the 19&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; century ideology and much more. This was the thought that came to my mind when we walked out of the station. We had a quite a long wait and hence I had a lot of time to stand and stare at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;ppl&lt;/span&gt;. The dressing especially of the younger generation was a neither ancient nor modern. It was a mix. Not an amalgamation of styles ( as the style gurus might put it ..) but rather a confused mixture of Halloween costumes…..( pretty much like Lindsey &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;Lohan&lt;/span&gt; a couple of years a go…and by the was she is HOT..!). It was a very clean station( was pleasantly surprising. I must admit…) and out side there was this huge hoarding of a Former Indian movie star who will always remain a former Indian movie star…( Its said his single hand weighs 2.5 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;Kgs&lt;/span&gt;…I wonder if anybody was actually eccentric &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;enuf&lt;/span&gt; to measure them)…this dude was posing with all his grace and style for an undergarment advertisement….(apparently in a country of 1 billion you can never run short of undies…) Our wait in the excruciating heat finally came to an end when we were finally picked up and dropped at a hotel where we were to stay put so that we don’t bring the whole city down…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After having our fill of a very tasty and complimentary breakfast we all retired back to our rooms to have some rest…..at least so I thought. It did not take long for the whole gang to assemble in our room (well there were 2 rooms…1 for ladies and 1 for gentlemen…or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;atleast&lt;/span&gt; so I thought again..). Miss Clueless was all geared by to do salsa…( apparently in Indian wedding there is a lot of dancing involved and she was planning on doing salsa… and she had learnt quite a few step by taking classes on weekends)…..so we had our round of salsa lessons for an hour where she tried to show the moves she had learnt and me as usual trying to show-off what I can do….and thus the afternoon was spent dancing….for once I was relaxed as I got to dance….but her(Miss Clueless) enthusiasm was admirable……and the remaining 3 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;ppl&lt;/span&gt;…well there were sitting and staring at the chaos that was unfolding in front of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lunch was to be served at the Grooms place, and it was a long journey ( long not distance wise but relative time wise…..u see if u stand on a super heated stove one second feels like an hour….) The groom was all happy and jovial quite unaware of the trap that was being set for him ( his wedding). He seemed all set to take the “plunge” to the life of a married man (poor soul had no clue what was happening…like a chicken who was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;abt&lt;/span&gt; to be fried at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;KFC&lt;/span&gt;). We met all his family and friends. One of them in particular, was trying too hard to impress his presence by threatening the groom of revealing his nick names and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;wht&lt;/span&gt; not…well the attempts were quite pathetic and annoying even by my standards( my standards are pretty low and he had gone lower)….i wanted to tell him that our groom ( fondly known as Mr &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"&gt;Bluffmaster&lt;/span&gt;) was ready to get married…and if that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t scare him( the groom) no amount of blackmail would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since we spent the afternoon with the Groom the evening slot was booked for the Bride. The ceremony that takes place at the brides place on the penultimate eve of the wedding is called “&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42"&gt;Sangeet&lt;/span&gt; - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43"&gt;Sandhya&lt;/span&gt;”( meaning – musical eve). The function is dedicated to the bride and is conducted by her family to remind her how much they love her(or at least that’s &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44"&gt;wht&lt;/span&gt; I think)….The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45"&gt;Sangeet&lt;/span&gt; was to begin at 6pm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46"&gt;IST&lt;/span&gt; but it began at standard Indian Time that is 8.30pm…which is almost on time. Mean while the 3 guys from our group went for a small walk down the road. During some random discussion Mr S revealed a secret about himself….well he claimed that he is not in the habit of sleeping in the afternoon.( In our office he is a Lion….and mind u we do not call him that for his courage….not that he does not have courage…well he did marry so that shows a lot of courage….we call him Lion for a different reason…..Lions are known for sleeping almost 20-22 hrs a day and when they are not sleeping they are eating…..so now u get the picture)…well when we challenged him on his claim..he had a very simple and more or less true explanation….well according to him there is something about the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47"&gt;ambience&lt;/span&gt; of our office that puts him to sleep…and I do agree to that…he is not the only one infected by that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48"&gt;ambience&lt;/span&gt;….anyways back to the story….And so the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49"&gt;Sangeet&lt;/span&gt; began at 8 30pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual I forgot to introduce the Bride. Well I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50"&gt;wud&lt;/span&gt; call her Miss Talented ( Now its Mrs Talented). We call her that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51"&gt;cas&lt;/span&gt; for starters she is a very talented person and secondly whatever she does she does really well…which is the first point again but in different words….It was not just her the whole family and friends(including us) of the Bride were very talented in the realm of music and dance something I consider my forte( apparently I am the only one who thinks so..but someday the world will know….anyways). There were various dance numbers and songs from different members of the family and a lot of crying was involved (crying is a very important part of almost all Indian functions especially the weddings). When it comes to celebration we were second to none either. We did our salsa that we( myself and Miss Clueless) had so rigorously practiced and stare-d ( the remaining three). Then there were general dance numbers ..like in open dance floors….I was very impressed by the enthusiasm of Mr.S and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52"&gt;GG&lt;/span&gt; ….they quite literally rocked the floor …though I am quite sure they had no clue what they were doing….but the effort was commendable. And thus ended the penultimate day of the wedding…..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The D – DAY - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_53"&gt;Bluffmaster&lt;/span&gt; Weds the Talented ( almost a movie title)….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wedding was to take place in 3 stages – Stage 1 – the engagement, Stage 2 – The reception and Stage 3 – the marriage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_54"&gt;IST&lt;/span&gt; for first stage of the wedding was 12.30pm and it started more or less on time at around 2pm( we Indians are very punctual &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_55"&gt;ppl&lt;/span&gt; and so we have 2 different time zones – the Indian Standard Time (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_56"&gt;IST&lt;/span&gt;) and the Standard Indian Time(SIT) the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_57"&gt;STI&lt;/span&gt; runs 2hrs behind &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_58"&gt;IST&lt;/span&gt;. Anything on paper refers to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_59"&gt;IST&lt;/span&gt; but on ground its always SIT). So the groom was all dressed up and ready to engage(or to get engaged)….the bride was glittering and looking stunning a complete contrast to her expressions that reflected humility and shyness( sorry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_60"&gt;cudnt&lt;/span&gt; think of a better word)…..this was the simplest of the function. It &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_61"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t take too long either. After the rings were exchanged and pictures clicked it was time for lunch…4pm to be precise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second stage was to start at 8pm also known as the “&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_62"&gt;Baraat&lt;/span&gt;” – it’s a procession where the groom sits in a mare and arrives at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_63"&gt;mandap&lt;/span&gt; where the marriage is to be solemnized. And as usual it was 9pm and we were still decorating the groom. The Mare-Guy (the handler of the horse) was constantly herding all of us. He (rather his horse) had another wedding to attend at 9pm and the procession had not started as yet. Sometimes I was wondering who was more important the groom or the horse as it turned for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_64"&gt;baraat&lt;/span&gt;, more often than not it’s the horse. We quickly whisked the groom out of his room to the place where the all important stallion was stationed. ( u might have notices that I had suddenly changed the sex of the animal as I started with a mare and am continuing with a horse…that is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_65"&gt;cas&lt;/span&gt; symbolically it has to be a mare but for more practical reasons its usually a horse). We some how got our groom to sit on this 4 legged VIP and the precession began. Now this is another place where one can do any movement and call it dance and get away with it. If u want to see hands, legs and body move in random directions ( sometimes in rather impossible ways) and completely out of sync with the music….just see a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_66"&gt;Baraat&lt;/span&gt;. This one was not that bad for two reasons…1st we the one’s dancing and second people were moving in tune to the music most of the time. Somehow trotting and dancing we finally reached the destination where the reception was arranged. The most exiting part was the exchange of the garlands. When the bride came to put garland on the groom we lifted him 4 feet off the floor so that she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_67"&gt;cudnt&lt;/span&gt; reach him( and to teach her who was boss) but we grossly underestimated the power packed bodyguards that were following the bride, she went up higher in air and put the garland on our unsuspecting groom showing him right form the beginning that who is going to be the boss in the marriage and whose side will always be higher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now starts the most boring part of any marriage aka the reception. Firstly u will be photographed more than a million times. U will have to say hi and pretend to know people even though you might have never seen them and probably will never see them again. And u will have to smile no matter what for the complete duration so much so that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_68"&gt;ur&lt;/span&gt; face will refuse to give any other expression. After 4 gruesome hours of standing and posing with each and everyone in the universe when the reception finally got over the couple were taken for an exclusive photo session…..as if there &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_69"&gt;wernt&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_70"&gt;enuf&lt;/span&gt; photos taken already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third Stage of the marriage was to start at 1.00 am. And since we had some time to kill we reverted back to what we think we do best – Salsa. Mr and Mrs S tried their hand at the dance for the first time as a couple and I must say they were very impressive as beginners. Now that the bride and groom had had their photo session, we thought it was our turn and the cameras started clicking. Finally when the camera got bored of seeing the same faces over and over again it gave up and so did we. We still had some time to kill so Mr and Mrs S went for a quick nap (well the nap was quick …it was the waking up part that took them 6 hours) and go did our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_71"&gt;GG&lt;/span&gt;. Miss Clueless decided to give the bride some company and on my part I thought the groom also cud do with some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_72"&gt;Pj&lt;/span&gt;’s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By 2.00 am the groom was all set and ready to finally enter the ritual that will culminate the marriage ceremony and that will officially make him give up his bachelorhood and give the bride her masters. Well almost…..but before he could loose his bachelorhood he had to loose his shoes which were to be stolen by the brides sisters to be later returned to him once a hefty bribe has been paid to them. And yes despite our cunning plans…they did steal the shoes..(not exactly steal but snatch it from our hands…..and I swear they cud have snatched it from the hands of a grizzly too if the situation demanded)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The remaining ceremony was surprisingly long with lots of pundits reciting various mantras and occasionally arguing with each other about the order of proceedings. Well their chanting and arguments had the same tone and most of us did not know which was which. Lets hope they chanted more than they argued (i guess in this case only God knew what happened). In any case He (our dear God Almighty) might have been pretty happy that the match that he had made was now formally being accepted (irrespective of the chaos that was taking place to make it happen). Once the ceremonies over and the hefty bribe paid the shoes were returned (it seemed that the Brides sisters &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_73"&gt;weren&lt;/span&gt;’t very good at negotiating as our groom had the last laugh….i missed all of this due to a very urgent personal emergency…..earlier that night I had 2 glasses of water followed by 2 glasses of tea at around 4am…and so I was.. u know where ..!! )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The couple then goes to the bride’s mother to seek her blessing and she on her part tells her daughter on how to behave in the new house aka &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_74"&gt;Sasuraal&lt;/span&gt;. And now begins the ceremony call &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_75"&gt;Bidai&lt;/span&gt; where the girl formally leaves her house and goes to her In-laws. And what follows is a crying fest. As I had mentioned earlier, our bride was also very talented in the art of crying profusely. Well there were bucket full of tears everywhere with many relatives joining in. Apparently if all the tears were to be collected from all the weddings all over India, I seriously believe there &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_76"&gt;wud&lt;/span&gt; never be any water shortage in this country. And that was the Culmination of the ceremonies and the wedding was officially over. Congratulations to the couple…!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We somehow managed a couple of rooms for the day as our train was in the evening and we slept (or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_77"&gt;atleast&lt;/span&gt; tried to sleep) during the day with occasional visits to u know where…!! Courtesy the previous days eating or the lack of it. Our train was scheduled to arrive at 5.00pm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_78"&gt;IST&lt;/span&gt; and it arrived on time at 7.00pm. We boarded the train and managed to find our places without much complication. The tickets were shown and seats exchanged so that the 5 of us sat in the same compartment. We were joined by two more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_79"&gt;ppl&lt;/span&gt; we had met at the wedding and as the case was while going we gambled out way to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;The connecting train to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_80"&gt;Pune&lt;/span&gt; was to leave &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_81"&gt;Mumbai&lt;/span&gt; at 8.10am and we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_82"&gt;weren&lt;/span&gt;’t sure if we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_83"&gt;wud&lt;/span&gt; reach on time to catch the train. But thanks to Indian railways we managed to squeeze just in the nick of time to board the other train. Phew that was close…!! Mean while our dear little Miss Clueless used the power of her cranium to somehow arrange for a friend to pick her up at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_84"&gt;Mumbai&lt;/span&gt; station and drive her back to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_85"&gt;Pune&lt;/span&gt;. Apparently she had her contingency ready and preferred to go by it rather that come with the remaining 4 of us on the train…I guess she had had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_86"&gt;enuf&lt;/span&gt; of us…and just for the record her plans to reach b4 the train &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_87"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t work out either……but somehow we all managed to reach back in one piece…..phew…..and that’s THE END..!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8680207291046432661-2597947419198754754?l=anupmohan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/feeds/2597947419198754754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8680207291046432661&amp;postID=2597947419198754754' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/2597947419198754754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/2597947419198754754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/2009/06/wedding.html' title='The WEDDING...!!!'/><author><name>Anup Mohan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07372973724591686295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SHRhUbDCmpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/poZArBtMFac/S220/Z1fbf7k3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8680207291046432661.post-344580600644668192</id><published>2008-10-30T23:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T23:37:48.057-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A TRIBUTE....to a friend and companion...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SQqncYhfB7I/AAAAAAAAABE/fCTnszz-jK8/s1600-h/adi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263203220596918194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 294px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SQqncYhfB7I/AAAAAAAAABE/fCTnszz-jK8/s400/adi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Adi was just 40 days old when we first brought him to our house. A small velvety doll; he was. He was the 1st of 36 pups born in a kennel in Coimbatore and hence his name Adil. He was also the 1st and the most loved pet I have had so far. He was a pure bred Labrador Retriever and came with a long list of pedigree. Dark black in colour; the 1st look at him will make u fall in love with him. That was what it was for all of us – love at the very first sight. I still remember the day we got him to our house. It was almost night by the time we reached home. He was sleeping in my lap all the while. As soon as we reached home, I placed him on the sofa so that all could get a look at him and the 1st thing he did was to pee on the sofa. That was 9 yrs ago but seems just like yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Life could not have been the same without him, I am sure. We all had our moments with him. He grew up with us and gave us numerous memories along the way. Be it happy-time or sad-time he was always there for all of us, to cheer us and to bring back the smile in us. The most eventful were the years when he was growing up. How he used to stand near the door and squeal so that we let him out to pee. How after doing something naughty we ran and hid under the bed. How we used to chase cats inside the house. How he wud get scared when it thundered or during diwali when we burst crackers. How he hid himself when we knew that the vet was coming. The long evening walks we used to take. The times when he ran away from the house when we left the gate open, and then my chasing him around trying to catch him. The barking competition he used to have with the road side dogs at night are all still afresh in our memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   We never quite realized when from the cute and cuddly puppy he grew up to be a strong and handsome dog. I still remember taking him to the various shows and winning various prizes. And then finally he settled down as a regular house pet. He was a baby hand-raised by all of us. He had and amazing personality and very short temper. He would get upset at the slightest of things and then u will have to sit with him and feed him directly with ur hands else he wont eat. The worst times were the monsoon when the thunder showers would send jitters through his body and he would rush into the house and hide under the bed. He was also an expert Gardner. He had a knack of rearranging the garden every now and then, so had to finally give up on having a garden. I cannot remember a time without him. The house was always buzzing with energy when he was around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   The last few years were really strained between us. I saw him only once or twice a year when I went home for holidays. No matter how little time I had during my vacations I always made it a point to spend at least 2 days with him. Lately my parents moved out of the house as well to stay elsewhere and Adi was left back alone in the house. Many a times I felt really sorry for him and my inability to do anything for him. Gradually he became lonely and sad and finally on the 30th of October 2008 (yesterday), he passed away. His demise has left a void in our hearts. He was the glue that held us together and now he is no more. I do not even feel like going back to the house where he is not there anymore. May be God saw what a wonderful pet he was and took him as his pet……may your Soul Rest In Peace Adi…….u will always remain alive in our hearts till the day we join u…….&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8680207291046432661-344580600644668192?l=anupmohan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/feeds/344580600644668192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8680207291046432661&amp;postID=344580600644668192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/344580600644668192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/344580600644668192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/2008/10/tributeto-friend-and-companion.html' title='A TRIBUTE....to a friend and companion...'/><author><name>Anup Mohan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07372973724591686295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SHRhUbDCmpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/poZArBtMFac/S220/Z1fbf7k3.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SQqncYhfB7I/AAAAAAAAABE/fCTnszz-jK8/s72-c/adi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8680207291046432661.post-3987681195147333771</id><published>2008-08-03T23:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T23:42:59.101-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SALSA n CCD</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SQqo7kkLbsI/AAAAAAAAABM/dYNUSVsWqO0/s1600-h/moments.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263204855917014722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SQqo7kkLbsI/AAAAAAAAABM/dYNUSVsWqO0/s400/moments.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What will you rather prefer? A date with someone special, in a quiet place with lots to eat, drink and gossip or An evening with a special friend where you end up doing something totally crazy in front of strangers just for the heck of it. I would most definitely choose the latter as it has more fun, adventure and is more childish. What made me ponder on this question was an incident that happened to me this week end and this is how it goes……&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a rather cloudy Saturday evening and I was relaxing on my favorite bean bag with a cup-o-coffee. A dear friend of mine calls me up and tells me that she is sitting at CCD for some official work and if I wanted to, I could join her for a cup-o-coffee. Its bit hard to put in words the personality of this friend of mine, but I shall try my best. Her actual name means a ‘shining jewel ‘(to some extent it quantifies her as well) we call her “now” (that’s her nick name). She thinks it’s difficult to decipher her (quite contrary to reality but I prefer her to be like that) and coming to the matter of looks, she thinks she is ‘pretty presentable’ (I don’t have anymore comments on that ;-)). Oh ya and both of us are totally crazy about music and dance..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were sitting on the first floor of CCD, talking when it happened. In the jukebox they played the song from the latest bollywood flick……”&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kabhi Kabhi Aditi zindagi mein youn hi koi apna lagta hai&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;…….&lt;/span&gt;.” I was dancing in my mind and am pretty sure she was too. I looked into her eyes and at that instant knew she wanted to dance. There was a little bit of space behind the table we were sitting. It took me sometime to convince her to dance here but as fate might have it by the time she agreed….the song ended…. God has this habit of teasing us and that’s what I love abt him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways after a couple of minutes I went to the counter and asked the waiter to play the same song again. To my delight he agreed. In a couple of minutes the song was on again. She did not expect this but am sure was happy that the song did come on again. Now I asked her for a dance and though hesitantly she agreed. As soon as we took to the floor all I could hear was her heart beat and all I could see were here eyes. Rest everything dissolved. Then we started dancing. We did it for some 30 sec and then went back to our seats. Fortunately no one paid much attention. Though relieved, I was a bit disappointed that no one noticed. But as I said God has a funny way of teasing his creation…..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a couple of minutes, a waiter came to us said that they would like us to do the dance once again. This time though they made a formal announcement about the same. This time we danced till the song ended and we did get a shower of applause. What we did not know was that our whole performance was video- taped and photographed. As a token of love the ppl at CCD presented us with a photo-frame. But I had got more that what I had bargained for. From a lousy Saturday evening to a really memorable moment that was the gift I got.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some times, as I said earlier God has a funny way of telling people that he cares. Its we, who fail to see the message. The most beautiful part of the whole experience was that it was spontaneous, nothing was planned and there were no expectations. So all I have to say is “ Go out do something crazy….and let God show u how much he cares…..Trust me You Wont be disappointed….” What say “Now” ( I can already see u smiling. Hope u cud have given the same smile for the pic we took)….&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8680207291046432661-3987681195147333771?l=anupmohan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/feeds/3987681195147333771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8680207291046432661&amp;postID=3987681195147333771' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/3987681195147333771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/3987681195147333771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/2008/08/salsa-n-ccd.html' title='SALSA n CCD'/><author><name>Anup Mohan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07372973724591686295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SHRhUbDCmpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/poZArBtMFac/S220/Z1fbf7k3.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SQqo7kkLbsI/AAAAAAAAABM/dYNUSVsWqO0/s72-c/moments.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8680207291046432661.post-8211997046808519549</id><published>2008-07-24T06:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T06:21:57.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Movie Misinterpreted......Dont u think...?</title><content type='html'>I was watching the movie “The Da Vinci Code” yesterday and something in that movie got me transfixed (if I might say so). Ironically it wasn’t the Holy Grail or the blood line of Jesus (I have seen the movie many times over in the past so that wasn’t a surprise.) I was trying to decide whom to side with. On one side we have Sir Robert Langdon, Sophie Neveu Saint-Clair (I hope I got the spelling right) and Sir Leigh Teabing, trying to unravel the secret of the Holy Grail to the world so that people do not live in the clouded realm of pseudo-spirituality that the church was trying to superimpose. And on the other hand were the Priory of Sion and the Church (Bishop Manuel Aringarosa) trying to protect the secret of the churches power on Earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Comparison might seem quite contrary to the story line. As in the movie it is obvious that Robert Langdon and Leigh Teabing were definitely not on the same side and so is the case with the Priory and the Church. Be that as it may, there is a bigger cause that seems to bind and unwind these four and hence has been the reason behind my classification.&lt;br /&gt;This cause is not very difficult to spot either. One group wanted to reveal this secret and the other wanted to conceal it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beauty in this reason is that, while the cause of one seems to be just but its consequences are devastating ,where as, the cause of the other cannot be justified but its consequences happen to be a necessity. Confused…??? Let me explain –&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Revealing the secret to the world might seem to be the right thing to do, as the people deserve to know the truth behind their religion and the God they worship. On the other hand revealing this secret would send the world we know it today into chaos. If people come to know the divinity of their deity was a cover-up, it would devastate their faith and belief. And a man who has no belief has no hope and there is nothing more dangerous than a man without any hope. If one such person is so dangerous, imagine a whole nation of them (Christianity to this day still remains a religion with the maximum following).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Covering up the whole thing might not be a just way of doing things; but then, it shall help in maintaining the stability and entropy of the system. Wasn’t this the very reason that this lie was made up in the first place, so that people could stop fighting are unite under one banner namely – Christianity(The greatest good, is the good, for the greatest numbers).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is believed that many have been murdered in order to protect this secret. But was it really worth the lives? Would it have really made a difference if the secret was revealed? It quite hard to answer that question in a definite ‘yes’ or ‘no’ but if we go by the history of human civilization I think it would not have made a difference. Equal number of people would have still died, either due to the fight between the Pegans and the Christians or by the anarchy that this might have caused. I believe it’s in the human nature to fight. It is this trait that was kept us this high in the evolutionary ladder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So who do u think is justified? It is like a never ending riddle. Like an equation whose conclusions and assumption are the same. No amount of mathematical jugglery can either prove it or disprove it…….After all it’s just another Hollywood movie……or is it ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8680207291046432661-8211997046808519549?l=anupmohan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/feeds/8211997046808519549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8680207291046432661&amp;postID=8211997046808519549' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/8211997046808519549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/8211997046808519549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/2008/07/movie-misinterpreteddont-u-think.html' title='A Movie Misinterpreted......Dont u think...?'/><author><name>Anup Mohan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07372973724591686295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SHRhUbDCmpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/poZArBtMFac/S220/Z1fbf7k3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8680207291046432661.post-2951379234531216408</id><published>2008-07-10T23:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T23:17:17.977-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy By Chance…!!!</title><content type='html'>The only fact to which both religion and science will concur is that fundamentally we are all the made of the same particles. To be more precise we are all made of nothingness. No wonder we all feel the void in our lives. Be that as it may, I have always wondered and am sure most of you must have also wondered about a very intriguing question. Who the hell are we? Why do we feel the way we feel? If all is the same then why is everything so different? Many a scholar would give an answer saying that it’s all about perspective. But I call that answer as their so called “intellectual escapism”. It’s not about perspective but it has more to do with chance than what we initially perceived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   There are more than a hundred thousand galaxies in this universe (if in fact this is a universe…..I do believe in the concept of multiverse). Each galaxy has billions of stars and each star may have billions of planets. To sum the whole up we can say the number of planets in this universe is itself ten to the power of hundred. Of all these planets, why did life choose to make its mark on Earth? (Let’s assume there is no extraterrestrial life…well till at least we have tangible evidence for the same). Scientist’s have a more philosophical answer to this and that is…..It was just a matter of chance. We are here because there were more that a hundred thousand coincidences that happened simultaneously. Might seem strange but it’s very true. Earth having the right temperature, the right distance from the sun, sun being the right kind of star, Jupiter being the big brother that it is are just a few of the examples. To sum it all up, we are here by chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   Why do we feel the way we feel? Though our bodies are made of the same chemicals we have different thoughts. Though we live in various conditions we all have the same range of emotions. Every one seems to be so similar that they are totally different. Many people give the credit of this anomaly to the process we call ‘Evolution’. We are what we are because that’s how we evolved. And how did this evolution take place…..just by chance. Again the credit goes to a multitude of coincidences. This seems to be true even in the day to day scenario. A less talented or qualified person gets more recognition than a more deserving candidate just because he was at the right place at the right time. And how was he at the right place at the right time?....just by chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                  What makes people happy? Many (not all) would agree that money would makes one happy. Imagine if Robinson Crusoe would have been a happy man if had a hundred million dollars when we was stranded in an island for 20 yrs instead of a friend. I don’t think so. Money makes one happy only when it has the power to buy. So does power make one happy? Politicians are supposed to be the most powerful people around and the never seem to be happy. That’s why politics is always associated with the word ‘dirty’ and not with the word ‘happy’. So does sex make one happy? Hard to say, porn stars aren’t the happiest bunch around. Does knowledge makes one happy? Nerds aren’t the merry making type either. But yes, a right combination of all the above factors does help a person be happy. And how do those who are happy have this right combination of paraphernalia. ….yup u guessed it right….just by chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              I do believe in one fact though. If one man can do it so can anyone else. So if you know someone who is really happy, be rest assured that you too can be the same…..its just a matter of chance……so don’t get into that shell of yours at the first sight of danger…..do what u must and leave the rest to Mr. chance and from what I shave seen, he can work miracles. So for once ……just be happy by chance…..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8680207291046432661-2951379234531216408?l=anupmohan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/feeds/2951379234531216408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8680207291046432661&amp;postID=2951379234531216408' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/2951379234531216408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/2951379234531216408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/2008/07/happy-by-chance.html' title='Happy By Chance…!!!'/><author><name>Anup Mohan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07372973724591686295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SHRhUbDCmpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/poZArBtMFac/S220/Z1fbf7k3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8680207291046432661.post-348895983395852310</id><published>2008-07-01T02:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T02:07:46.015-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One day Reporter.....</title><content type='html'>After seeing the movie “Page 3”, I always thought that crime reporting was a very interesting field, though I never imagined myself; being one of them. But I guess providence had better plans for me. I had gone to Delhi recently for giving a couple of interviews as well as meeting a couple of friends. One of my friends was (and is still) a crime reporter with a national daily there. I just wanted to have a casual meeting with her since I had not met her for a couple of years. Initially I thought we would meet over a cup of coffee and chat for a while and then go our separate ways. Fortunately for me, my interviews got over sooner than expected and so we decided to meet in the morning itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      We were just getting along with a casual conversation when she had a call regarding a hit and run case. She, being a crime reporter had to leave and I not being one didn’t want her to go. She finally came up with the solution and invited me to come along with her for that day. I, on my part volunteered to be her driver. More importantly I did want to know what and how the crime reporting world works and why did she chose this field as her career.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       Basically the day of the crime reporter starts with a phone call, either from the police control room or from a colleague who informs them about a fresh incident. Then comes the running around part where the reporter finds the crime scene, meets the affected and the not so affected people, takes the photographs and creates the draft for the story. This is if the reporter is having a good day. On a normal or a bad day there are multiple crimes at various locations. I believe a reporter uses the ‘traveling salesman algorithm’ in their lives more than anyone else. The have to go to different police stations, different villages and slums and that too all at peak traffic hours to meet all kinds of people right from the commissioner of police to the road side Romeo. Their desk day at the office starts after 7pm when they go to their office, consolidate their stories, prepare the reports and submit it to the editor. After all this running around they would be lucky if their story gets published and luckier if they get the byline (i.e., their name printed at the end of the story).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        So we started my first and so far the only day as a crime reporter. I was initially a bit disappointed when we came to know that the hit and run story was not true. But we later came to realize that the location information supplied was incorrect. Just when we thought all was going well (at peak hours in Delhi traffic) we got a call regarding a custodial death of a caddie who was arrested for a chain-snatching incident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Regular crime stories are not too hard as the cops provide most of the details to the reporters and the reporters just have to do the back-end and field research. A custodial death is a different ball game altogether. Here most often the cops are at fault and hence do not co-operate at all. Not only that they do not co-operate the also try to mislead the reporters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        So now we had two stories to cover, multiple police stations to barge in and out of and that too at different locations in Delhi. My day was getting better and better. The hit and run case was cake walk. We found the bus which was the culprit, the bike which was the victim and the story of their romance from the SHO (station head officer). With the love story securely stored in our cameras we headed for the more sensational of the two cases.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            As mentioned earlier this being a custodial death case we were (actually she was) pretty sure the cops would not be of any assistance. We short-listed 3 different police stations from where we planned to drain out the information. I did not have any prior experience dealing with cops and that too when we were to interrogate them and not the vise versa. She decided to train me by showing how it is done in one of the stations. I was astonished to see how well behaved these cops act while dealing with reporters. I was introduced as the assistant reporter. The comfort with which the cops treated us really made me feel at home in a place, whose thought gives nightmares to people. I was introduced to a long list of officers and their subordinates. Some of them even claimed that they knew me and were aware that I had joined the news paper daily very recently, though in reality I haven’t been to Delhi in 15 years and was definitely not a reporter. All we could gather from the half hour discussion there was the name of a village.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          We split up for the next round of enquiry as we had to cover 2 police stations and we did not have much time. I dropped her at the first and went on to the second one. Fortunately the SHO was on leave and the person in charge was a lady. I introduced myself as a reporter and as if out of instinct said “hello DiDi aap kaise ho”. As soon as she heard the word “didi” she felt very happy and started an animated but very casual conversation. I had to very careful here because if blew my cover I would be in really deep shit (phew..I feel like a spy already). To my surprise she did not get the slightest clue about me ( this I came to know much later through my friend). Anyways I had to really make up a lot of stuff but all I could find was a name. My friend on the other end had fared much better (of course.. she was a pro..) and she also found some details about this boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           Our next destination was the village where this guy lived. I was dumb-struck to see that, this village (yup it was an old fashioned village) was located in the heart of the city. We found a couple of street rowdies (the self appointed bhai types..) whom we asked for directions. I was scared to talk to them initially. My friend passed a sarcastic comment that if we had to fight them, she would take on two of them and I just need to find my way through one. Going by her proportions, I knew she could take on two of them with easy. Anyways such a confrontation was not required because these guys fled as soon as used the word “police” while asking direction (..phew…).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           Somehow we managed to locate this boy’s house. Almost the whole village was assembled there. We went and introduced ourselves ( actually she did…I was too confused to do anything). As soon as they heard who we were the mother of the boy thought I was the main reporter and she fell to my feet and started crying. I never felt so helpless in my entire life. I did not know what to say to this lady or to anyone assembled there who were staring at us as we were their only ray of hope. I felt ashamed of my helplessness. We asked them a few questions and got the picture of the boy. They all had the same story to tell that their kid was innocent and the cops should be punished and we should help them get justice. As the time we spent with those people grew longer the crowd started becoming hostile. The people started shouting slogans against the police. This was the time my friend told me that we should be leaving as we did not want to be the reason behind a riot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          Since we had both the stories now we went back to a coffee shop. The same shop from where my journey as a reporter began and ended. Though it was a big day for me, my part got over here. Now she had to go to office and convert the drafts to story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          I was to leave Delhi early morning the next day. I was sitting in my berth and reading the newspaper. To my pleasant surprise I found the news story printed in the 2nd page itself. Though my friend got the story printed she did not get the byline. As I was reading the story the scenes from what happened yesterday passed through my mind as a movie and then I thought of the movie ‘Page 3’ and knew how Konkana Sen would have felt on her first day as a crime reporter. All I could think of was that sometimes…..Sometimes Reel life and Real life are not that different………&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8680207291046432661-348895983395852310?l=anupmohan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/feeds/348895983395852310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8680207291046432661&amp;postID=348895983395852310' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/348895983395852310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/348895983395852310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/2008/07/one-day-reporter.html' title='The One day Reporter.....'/><author><name>Anup Mohan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07372973724591686295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SHRhUbDCmpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/poZArBtMFac/S220/Z1fbf7k3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8680207291046432661.post-3654417717795593870</id><published>2008-06-13T02:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T02:43:06.285-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Matter of CHOICE ..</title><content type='html'>Do we actually have a choice? Is Choice a real concept or just the fabrication of one’s imagination? These are a couple of questions from the realm of pseudo science that physics very recently attempted to answer. Though the question might sound trivial but the quest for its answer led two of physics greatest theories namely Relativity and Quantum Mechanics lock horns against one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Let me cut down on the technical jargon and get to a more Lehman’s point of view. Suppose I give you two fruits. One Apple and One Orange and ask you to choose one of them. The question is not what you would choose here but rather of the existence of a choice. Do you in-fact have a choice? Common sense says that Of course you do have a choice and that’s how you choose. But this conclusion of your common sense would go against the greatest intellect to ever walk the world Sir Albert Einstien. According to him “God doesn’t play dice with the universe”. This means that every thing is governed by quantifiable laws and work according in accordance with it. If this were to be true then it would be theoretically possible to determine the outcome of your choice with accuracy and precision. So if one could already know what he is going to choose, then where is the choice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Be that as it may, the argument of lack of choice also has its own set of opposition. This time it’s a group of scientist who came up with the theory of quantum mechanics. Well lets say the battle is between Einstien and Hawkins(yes Stephen Hawkins). Quantum mechanics introduces the concept of probability into the laws of physics. Hence now we have a situation that we have the probability of you choosing the apple and the probability of you choosing the orange but the actual choice still remains uncertain. This means you do have choice to make after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   The logic behind Einstien’s argument is easy to understand but the conclusions that come out of it are quite contrary to our common sense, whereas the logic behind Hawkin’s argument is hard to understand but its conclusions agree with common sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Ironically now its matter or your choice to decide which of the two is to be accepted. Both the theories and their creators have withstood the test of time and criticism and both happen to be true. A paradox we might say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  In either case knowledge of existence (not necessarily the actual act) of choice is of prime importance. It has been proved that you can make a man choose what you want him to choose if he is aware of the choice only in his subconscious. For example you had the choice to either read this article or avoid it and I can now predict what you chose because you where aware of that choice only in your subconscious. So now do you think you could have done differently if you knew about this choice……I don’t think so……&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case….Its just a matter of CHOICE….!!! Don’t u think….&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8680207291046432661-3654417717795593870?l=anupmohan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/feeds/3654417717795593870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8680207291046432661&amp;postID=3654417717795593870' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/3654417717795593870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/3654417717795593870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/2008/06/matter-of-choice.html' title='A Matter of CHOICE ..'/><author><name>Anup Mohan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07372973724591686295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SHRhUbDCmpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/poZArBtMFac/S220/Z1fbf7k3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8680207291046432661.post-1713075235933466011</id><published>2008-06-13T02:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T02:42:27.632-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LOVE.... can be quite a resignation</title><content type='html'>The end sometimes is necessary to bring in new beginings, and thus i am heading to the end of a two and a half year old affair. I did not believe in love at first sight, but believe you me that was what i felt when i first laid my eyes on her.She was beauty personified.I thought i would never see her again but fate had decided otherwise and exactly a year a later we met again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I still remember the night when we confessed the love for one another. I felt as if the earth has moved from beneath my feet. I was floating.....yes i still do remember the night...it was dark, it was cold and it was raining.I was there with my friends (many of you infact) and the reason we were there was for her. That day was the begening of an affair that lasted a full three and a half years and ....those were the days my friend i thought they would never end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  It used to be letters.....that is how we started our communication. Distance was never a problem for me but the letters were not very frequent. Slowly we entered the world of chatting...and every thing changed....It was the fateful day of November 14 2005 that i had the chance to be one with her finally......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  That day i had glitter in my eyes, aspiration in my heart ....and that was the most exciting day of my life till date.....the unision was not as i had expected....but that is what pleople say about love...its never as you expect it to be.....it took us a lot of time and equal lot of effort to get used to each other.....but with time things got better.....we got to go places together....there were days we used to be with one another for almost 24 hrs...though sometimes it seemed like only a sec....&lt;br /&gt;  She was an Indian, and is still, and i am quite sure would be for the rest of her life. My parents were proud of me....my friends were proud of me....my whole colony was proud of me for finding her....she was one in a million....yes she really was...!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Trouble started brewing in paradise in the March of 2006....we had been together in Hydrabad and now we had moved to Pune....though she was there a couple of years before me too....She introduced me to a friend of hers....the friend was an american.....she was young ....beautiful and charismatic.....initially i had a hard time adjusting with the friend...manly due to the lack of indianess in her....but something in me got acttracted to her like gravity.....firstly she was an american and secondly she was wild.....she was really really wild.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Couple of months went by without much of a tusle but finally due to work related requiremnt i had to move out from her house and move in with her friend(the american;-)). We started seeing less of each other and the communication started going down.....i spent more and more time with the american.....there were times we neva bothered going home either....life with american was a totally new experience...she was naughty and unpedictable....but it only made the attraction stronger.....i still tried to keep in touch with my Indian better half but she refuted and made any of my efforts towards her futile....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  That the American also was attracted to me was a thought i would never have dared to fanthom....but as funny as it may seem she happen to have developed a liking towards me.....there happened a huge fight between the two(my indian better half and her american friend)...and the reason was ofcourse me.....quite to my surprise...the indian won the fight...i was relieved....but then her attitude towards me changed.....both of us knew we were drifting and going down the drain.....and my attraction towards the american was gaining momentum as was hers(which i came to know later)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  So i finally decided to end my relationship which had made my life a rollercoster ride for the past couple of years.....i told this to my parents....initially they were apprehensive....but later they agreed to it.....    And so i have finally decide to end my affair.....this is to say that i have resigned from my previous company(she does not like her name being published)...!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8680207291046432661-1713075235933466011?l=anupmohan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/feeds/1713075235933466011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8680207291046432661&amp;postID=1713075235933466011' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/1713075235933466011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/1713075235933466011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/2008/06/love-can-be-quite-resignation.html' title='LOVE.... can be quite a resignation'/><author><name>Anup Mohan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07372973724591686295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SHRhUbDCmpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/poZArBtMFac/S220/Z1fbf7k3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8680207291046432661.post-2087790336309437804</id><published>2007-04-12T02:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T02:18:12.422-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CLUELESS....</title><content type='html'>CLUELESS....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   The first picture that comes to my mind when I hear this word is of Alicia Silverstone (and for very obvious reasons)....but this blog is not about the movie or her, its about me and the clueless part of me - my life.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  It is said that Ignorance is Bliss, but I do not find any bliss in being ignorant of what I really like to and want to do. Basically I am too lazy to do anything to change. But the bigger dilemma I face is that I have no clue as to what is it that I want to change. This probably is because I know not what I am really good at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   There are a lot of things I like to do and an even more lot of things I would like to do. It feels so confusing with so much to do and so little time and money to do it. The probable profession I am planning to consider are aplenty and variedly diverse. It includes Software professional (which I am now), a businessman a management executive (HR / Marketing/ Finance - preferably all the 3), commercial pilot, a politician, an actor, a professional choreographer and dancer, an artist, a jockey, a lifeguard, parasailing instructor, fitness consultant, sportsman, a tour guide, a biker, a speed racer (2 and 4 wheeler), drag racer, sky diver, environmentalist, zookeeper, stuntman and stunt choreographer, gym instructor, yoga instructor, clinical psychologist. These are just a few of the things that I am good at doing and would like to take up as a career.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  What the list consists of are only my career options, I haven’t yet started with the list of my hobbies and want to do things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   This sometimes makes me wonder how short one human lifespan is. So many things to do and so little time to do it in. I really envy people who love to do what they do. It must like a gift to know what one is good at, and fortunate are those who get to do it.....So if you are one of 'em.....someone up there must be really liking u.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8680207291046432661-2087790336309437804?l=anupmohan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/feeds/2087790336309437804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8680207291046432661&amp;postID=2087790336309437804' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/2087790336309437804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/2087790336309437804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/2007/04/clueless.html' title='CLUELESS....'/><author><name>Anup Mohan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07372973724591686295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SHRhUbDCmpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/poZArBtMFac/S220/Z1fbf7k3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8680207291046432661.post-6239360387374575667</id><published>2007-04-09T00:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T00:45:59.574-07:00</updated><title type='text'>OH! BC</title><content type='html'>Never before in the history of the universe ( ya...the universe) has any country, caste, race or creed fought so hard to be called " Backward ". As if the tag of being a " Developing " country wasn’t enough for India now ppl are fighting to be called backward.( FYI......" developing " a term used by the so called "developed" to show others as to how underdeveloped they are) If Mr. Mohandas K.G were to be alive today, he would have killed himself over the fact that the country, he once fought to be freed from the fetters of the colonial regime, is tying itself down again. This time though it is the other end of the caste hierarchy that is the driving force. Gone are the days ppl were proud be associated with the "upper caste", now ppl just want be as backward as possible, not just in caste but more often than not in their attitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  What triggered this sudden trend of backwardness among ppl? The answer to this question is a simple one word - Reservation. Quite an irony one must say. A concept that was introduced to help the crippling economy has now itself become the motivation behind the crippling of the economy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  In a country of over 100 million ppl is it possible to truly differentiate between those who need reservation and those who want it. My honest opinion is that it’s not possible. The paraphernalia of the reservation debacle, if it really pulls through is going to be that it would reduce the overall international standing of various institutes of higher education in India. It is understandable that a premier institute in any country must support diversity but it should not be at the cost of its reputation. The discretion should be left with the various institutes as to how they should inculcate this scheme, instead of Govt interfering with their admission procedure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  The first and foremost Aim of any of the countries leading higher education institute is the overall improvement in the quality of education provided by it as well as the general upliftment of the educational awareness of the country as a whole. In this regards they have taken many steps in the past and one can be sure there would be many more such amendments in the future as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  The Govt should stop playing such political gimmick and stop meddling with the educational system of the country and leave that to more qualified personals who have dedicated their life to education.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8680207291046432661-6239360387374575667?l=anupmohan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/feeds/6239360387374575667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8680207291046432661&amp;postID=6239360387374575667' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/6239360387374575667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8680207291046432661/posts/default/6239360387374575667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anupmohan.blogspot.com/2007/04/oh-bc.html' title='OH! BC'/><author><name>Anup Mohan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07372973724591686295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3uDoWXe0gc/SHRhUbDCmpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/poZArBtMFac/S220/Z1fbf7k3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
