<?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-4164804836951819704</id><updated>2012-01-13T23:39:07.645+05:30</updated><category term='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OQYf2T2MsQ4/Se5TiwuGh3I/AAAAAAAAAB4/DGFxsNIGK2Y/s1600-h/Love.jpg'/><title type='text'>Dazed by the Light I See...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Dazed by the Light I See...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12097958273658378453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DAJwhvkMrQQ/Tg2yetTGJdI/AAAAAAAAAYA/4oyJQYqm9N4/s220/267519_10150309585950915_659675914_9713916_2279066_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4164804836951819704.post-5592685300852763105</id><published>2010-04-11T01:49:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-04-11T01:52:17.347+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Reading my very dear friend Shaili's latest post made me realize that I also owe an apology to all those who are gracious enough to read my blog... I am sorry for not updating it time to time... The truth is I am suffering from writer's block (which essentially I suffer through the year, the times when I write are the exceptional times when I don't suffer from it)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So hereby, I promise to try to make an effort to write a little more than I do now!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ciao!!! Love &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4164804836951819704-5592685300852763105?l=neerjamisra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/feeds/5592685300852763105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4164804836951819704&amp;postID=5592685300852763105' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/5592685300852763105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/5592685300852763105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/2010/04/reading-my-very-dear-friend-shailis.html' title=''/><author><name>Dazed by the Light I See...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12097958273658378453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DAJwhvkMrQQ/Tg2yetTGJdI/AAAAAAAAAYA/4oyJQYqm9N4/s220/267519_10150309585950915_659675914_9713916_2279066_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4164804836951819704.post-3224543947790857062</id><published>2010-03-06T00:35:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-03-06T01:01:49.229+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Today's world...</title><content type='html'>"Are you freaking serious???" was the only question that came to mind when I heard on radio that some institute(read: coaching classes) was offering a course in which students could prepare for Medical and Engineering from class VIII itself... CLASS EIGHT!!! This is the age we live in... Children being pushed to do well... Children being pushed into starting to think about their careers even before they have an idea about what career is... When I was in class eight, all I could think about was how to pass my exams and which boy/girl liked which girl/boy... Class eight is when children enter their teenage... Aren't kids supposed to enjoy the famous "infamous" phase of our lifetimes??? Agreed that kids nowadays have become much more advanced than what we were in our days... But does it in anyway mean that they have sacrifice their age of "fun and frolic" and concentrate on something that though is an integral part of our life, is not life itself... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apart from the ad on radio, I also read about a child who committed suicide before the boards started... And the reason, without any doubt, was of course, the fear of the boards... So what is it about the board exams that scares, pardon me for saying it, the shit out of every child??? The boards are not some kind of gigantic monster that will rip your head off, tear you into pieces and then enjoy every piece of meat... It is JUST AN EXAM... Nothing extraordinary about it... I did get the examination blues when I appeared for my boards and did end up faring well... I got an 89% in my 10th boards... And no rewards for guessing the "comments" that I was bombarded with after my results came out... "Just 1% less..."... Yes, 1% less... That is how much I studied and exactly how much I deserve... The fact that 33, yes 33, students in my batch of 180 scored above 90% doesn't mean I got any less... Those were the people who worked hard and got their result... I got what I worked for... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if someone was sick and could not study for the exam, and ended up doing poorly in it, does it mean that he is an imbecile who does not deserve to live??? NO... Exams are not the end of life... If someone doesn't do well in it, doesn't mean he is not good for anything... And nowadays, its not marks that ONLY matter... You have to have substance to become something in life??? There are millions of people who did not do well in their school exams, yet today they are known world-wide... What would have happened if they had committed suicide or stopped hoping for better things in life??? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone says it has become so competitive today... Competition is healthy up to a certain extent... But the very thought of pushing your child into doing something he doesn't even understand due to competition is just complete display of the regard we ought to have for life... If asked to relive any period in my life, I would have to say those days in school when we lived in complete ignorance of the big bad world outside, the absolute careless splendor with which we live... But would the kids who are in school now answer the same??? I don't think so... The school is no different from the world we are exposed to now... Those precious moments in life, when the only thing we had to worry about was the tiffins we'd take, the number of games periods we had are the ones we hold close to our hearts... But now it is entirely different... Nowadays the kids have to worry about are whether or not they are better than their 'friends'...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It saddens me to see the state of things nowadays... Parents pushing their children to do something that they wouldn't even want to do in the first place, children not being able to live the 'childhood' they are entitled to... The world indeed has become a sad place to live in...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4164804836951819704-3224543947790857062?l=neerjamisra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/feeds/3224543947790857062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4164804836951819704&amp;postID=3224543947790857062' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/3224543947790857062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/3224543947790857062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/2010/03/todays-world.html' title='Today&apos;s world...'/><author><name>Dazed by the Light I See...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12097958273658378453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DAJwhvkMrQQ/Tg2yetTGJdI/AAAAAAAAAYA/4oyJQYqm9N4/s220/267519_10150309585950915_659675914_9713916_2279066_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4164804836951819704.post-4805115805031560561</id><published>2010-01-22T06:11:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-01-22T06:42:38.881+05:30</updated><title type='text'>How I wish the phone would ring!!!</title><content type='html'>Again after a hiatus, I write... And this time it is another weak attempt at short story, one which I had written a while ago... Here it goes..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its 2:00 am and I am still waiting for the phone to ring. My desperation to hear his voice has reached its zenith. "Why hasn't he called?" is the only thing that I can think of. My mind is forming all the formidable possibilities of the answers to the question where as my heart is hoping these thoughts be proved wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its 2:30 am now, and he still has not called. Six long hours have passed since we last talked, since we last fought. I want to call him but I fear - I fear that I might enrage him further, push his anger beyond his control. All I can think about now is him. All I can think about all the time is him. His voice is that force, that power that energizes me through the day. He is all that I had ever hoped for, all that I ever wanted. I know it in my heart that I do not deserve him. I can only wish to be good enough for me. But God has been kind enough to gift him to me. And I had messed it up again, as usual. Why did I have to do things to invoke his anger? Why did I have to behave the way I did? Why did I have to be the person I am? Maybe God wants me to realize I am no good for him. I ALREADY KNOW IT. Every single day that has passed since I met him,bears witness to the fact that I do not deserve him. And yet, I am lying here on my bed, unappreciative and waiting, waiting for him to forgive me for my misgivings and accept me and my flaws with open arms. I wish saying sorry would help, but what should I say sorry for - sorry for being the person I am? If I could do anything to mold myself into someone who deserves him, trust me, I would. But I guess wanting is not enough. And anyways it would be such a gargantuan task, that even if I put in Herculean effort all through my life, I would not succeed.&lt;br /&gt;Therefore all I can do is wait..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4164804836951819704-4805115805031560561?l=neerjamisra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/feeds/4805115805031560561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4164804836951819704&amp;postID=4805115805031560561' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/4805115805031560561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/4805115805031560561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/2010/01/how-i-wish-phone-would-ring.html' title='How I wish the phone would ring!!!'/><author><name>Dazed by the Light I See...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12097958273658378453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DAJwhvkMrQQ/Tg2yetTGJdI/AAAAAAAAAYA/4oyJQYqm9N4/s220/267519_10150309585950915_659675914_9713916_2279066_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4164804836951819704.post-8954902271942370759</id><published>2010-01-04T01:34:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-01-04T01:38:28.933+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Life, as I see it...</title><content type='html'>Life is not perfect... Every single person on Earth knows that (excepting kids, of course)... But why can it not be close to perfect??? Why does everyone have to go through a lot of crap in life??? Why do problems haunt everyone's life??? Is it to teach us petty human beings a lesson - a lesson that we cannot have everything served to us on a golden platter??? Granted, hardships in life are those inseparable parts of life which lead us to be what we are... But why do hardships have to be so bloody hard???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every relationship shared by two persons faces its own ups and downs... But are the downs the end of life??? No, they are not... We feel extremely helpless when we are faced with the downs in our lives... But should these downs come in the way of the ups as well... It is not easy to forget, but won't forgetting the downs help everyone??? Well, I face a lot of turmoil when these downs happen to me... What am I supposed to do??? Cry and let fate take control over my life??? Or get my ass down and do something to change it??? But that is not enough... To take a stand and try to change the downs would involve other people's feelings as well... Do they want a change or do they want fate to take control??? If someone you care deeply about is hurt by your actions, you are supposed to change the action... Undoing it is impossible, so not repeating it is the best option... But here comes the next question, should you or should you not change yourself, let go off yourself in order to satisfy the other important people in your life... These questions baffle me all the time... Our future is the consequence of our present actions... So the present action is the most imporant thing in life... Setting your present well would secure your future... Life is not a straight and smooth highway... It is like a maze or a network of roads... Some of them might be smooth, some might not... All the roads lead to different destinations... It is your call to choose the road of life, and reach the destination...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4164804836951819704-8954902271942370759?l=neerjamisra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/feeds/8954902271942370759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4164804836951819704&amp;postID=8954902271942370759' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/8954902271942370759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/8954902271942370759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/2010/01/life-as-i-see-it.html' title='Life, as I see it...'/><author><name>Dazed by the Light I See...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12097958273658378453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DAJwhvkMrQQ/Tg2yetTGJdI/AAAAAAAAAYA/4oyJQYqm9N4/s220/267519_10150309585950915_659675914_9713916_2279066_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4164804836951819704.post-9128109845308284261</id><published>2009-12-10T01:14:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-12-10T01:28:37.060+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Phooo!!!</title><content type='html'>After a long long long long..... long hiatus, I strike again... Back without a bang, but with a lot of words about my life... It has been a hell of a time... Last time I wrote was when I left my previous college, to join a new college... An apprehensive me had turned to blogging to find solace... And that 'apprehensive' me has turned into a very 'confident' me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been 3 months since I took the shift back... I joined the new college... Though I had two friends in the college, the first day in my class I was met with stares - ranging from cold to inquisitive... I am a person who adapts to change very easily... So settling down was not an issue for me... I actually became very comfortable within the first few days... And the two friends of mine - A and S - did prove to be blessing in disguise... Within a short span of time, I made a lot of friends... And now we have a very close group in college... Apart from friends, studies are going fine... The teachers are decent enough but have weird accents... So giggling in the class at wrong pronunciations have become a part and parcel of classroom fun... And then there are these weird people in my class, who for some reason, cannot just stop discussing other people, who are not even related to them... Personally I get a lot of stares in the class... They look up to me as some kind of alien... So things at my new college are awesome...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, the 'thing' that I was actually excited about - my friends of 5-6 years being here... My anticipation was mulled by the behavior I have been getting... None of my old friends except for L bother to keep in touch... And every time their ****ed up explanation is that they are too busy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst part is that me and my mum are back to fighting the Word War... Every morning is spent in battling it out in words... The end is brought about by whoever gets to speak louder!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the best things/people in my life currently are S,L and A and Bruno... :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4164804836951819704-9128109845308284261?l=neerjamisra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/feeds/9128109845308284261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4164804836951819704&amp;postID=9128109845308284261' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/9128109845308284261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/9128109845308284261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/2009/12/phooo.html' title='Phooo!!!'/><author><name>Dazed by the Light I See...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12097958273658378453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DAJwhvkMrQQ/Tg2yetTGJdI/AAAAAAAAAYA/4oyJQYqm9N4/s220/267519_10150309585950915_659675914_9713916_2279066_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4164804836951819704.post-1739569992373654339</id><published>2009-08-03T21:58:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-08-03T22:04:39.298+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Last Days...</title><content type='html'>It is one of my last days here... A bout of nostalgia is what I am feeling... On one hand, there is the excitement of going back, back to my roots, back to where I belong, back to friends who have been there most my life... But on the other hand, there are these great bunch of friends I have made here... I know separations are difficult and the thought of never being able to meet haunting, but that is how life is... Nothing is certain... Any one moment can turn the direction of your life by 180 degrees... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am hoping everything happens smoothly and my friends here, my love for all of whom I cannot express, live happily... That is all I can wish for... It is very difficult to find people who genuinely care for you but here it was not rare, it was on the contrary very easy... I can count about 50+ people who do care for me deeply and who I also care for... I wish them well in life...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets see where life takes me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S:This is a felt-and-wrote piece... So standard certainly ain't very good...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4164804836951819704-1739569992373654339?l=neerjamisra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/feeds/1739569992373654339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4164804836951819704&amp;postID=1739569992373654339' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/1739569992373654339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/1739569992373654339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/2009/08/last-days.html' title='Last Days...'/><author><name>Dazed by the Light I See...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12097958273658378453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DAJwhvkMrQQ/Tg2yetTGJdI/AAAAAAAAAYA/4oyJQYqm9N4/s220/267519_10150309585950915_659675914_9713916_2279066_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4164804836951819704.post-7943595329023919804</id><published>2009-07-14T22:48:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2009-07-14T23:30:05.035+05:30</updated><title type='text'>'PERFECT'</title><content type='html'>It was a perfect day, in every sense of the word. And also a day of many firsts. Today, it rained heavily here for the very first time this year. And today, for the first time ever, I got drenched in the rain - intentionally. And also wished my friend Dev 'a very Happy Birthday' for the very first time. And these lines are the summary of this whole piece. So if you are not in a hurry, continue reading. But I must warn you that you might find the use of the word 'perfect' redundant :) And for those who are in a hurry, don't read further, the following is the stupid elongated version of the two sentences above! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today started with me waking up late, taking a quick bath and skipping breakfast! The weather was close to PERFECT and I was singing on my way to college, in careless splendour. The song I was singing was "Jab bhi koi ladki dekhun mera dil deewana bole ole ole ole" (translated to English: Whenever I see a girl, my crazy heart says ole ole ole). I do not understand the reason, but I did remember the song and was singing it :)&lt;br /&gt;Anyways I was late for class and after being allowed in, I was back to my favourite activity - thinking and doodling. It was 'perfect' 'cause no teacher caught me day-dreaming. As the day proceeded, the weather became better than 'perfect'. It ultimately started raining - heavily. Since the day I came back, it had not rained even once. And finally it did today! I got wet and it felt good. But I quickly went into my friend's place and dried myself. It had been a few moments when I was lazing that three other friends dropped by and forced me into getting out and taking a walk in the rain. I shrugged but they being the 'perfect' marketeers convinced me to get and walk to the nearest chaiwala for a steaming hot cup of tea. And after the initial shock of my foot getting stuck in the mud and being knee-deep in all the dirty water, it actually became fun. After than wonderfully 'perfect' time that I had, I drove back home which was even more fun. The reasons being the roads were converted to huge ponds of water and driving on those roads felt like crossing the oceans (duh!). Secondly it is really funny to see what the rain does to guys. Its like the pouring rain unleashes all the hormones that they have. The guys were actually whistling and singing - neither talents that I have witnessed earlier. It made me smile though :D&lt;br /&gt;I reached home safely and scrubbed myself with Dettol, lest I catch some kind of skin infection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, it was actually one of the best days of my life. And with this I intend to sign out :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4164804836951819704-7943595329023919804?l=neerjamisra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/feeds/7943595329023919804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4164804836951819704&amp;postID=7943595329023919804' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/7943595329023919804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/7943595329023919804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/2009/07/it-was-perfect-day-in-every-sense-of.html' title='&apos;PERFECT&apos;'/><author><name>Dazed by the Light I See...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12097958273658378453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DAJwhvkMrQQ/Tg2yetTGJdI/AAAAAAAAAYA/4oyJQYqm9N4/s220/267519_10150309585950915_659675914_9713916_2279066_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4164804836951819704.post-3168847755475777413</id><published>2009-05-08T15:00:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-05-08T15:06:14.204+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The eyes say it all...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;My first attempt at fiction, after reading numerous creative pieces by fellow bloggers!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;She lay on the edge of the bed, facing the wall - thinking what went wrong and when...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;He lay on the other side, having the same thoughts...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Both of them wanted the same thing - the warmth of each other's bodies close to them... A smug hug while wading away to the land of blissful dreams... But both of them were egoistic to an extent not to accept the truth...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Somewhere in the background, a marriage was proceeding with the loud music and jest of all the guests... They remembered how happy they had been on their marriage and afterwards... The honeymoon in Italy, the stealing kisses at their folk's place... How they longed for it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And then suddenly, crash came the window of the next room... Both of them were startled and got up... He asked her to stay and went to inspect with a vase in his hand... He returned shortly and said there was nothing... That was it... That was enough to make them realise their folly... Both embraced each other lovingly, and looked at each other... Their eyes said it all... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is my first story... Please leave a comment and let me know how you did not/did like it!!! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4164804836951819704-3168847755475777413?l=neerjamisra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/feeds/3168847755475777413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4164804836951819704&amp;postID=3168847755475777413' title='28 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/3168847755475777413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/3168847755475777413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/2009/05/eyes-say-it-all.html' title='The eyes say it all...'/><author><name>Dazed by the Light I See...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12097958273658378453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DAJwhvkMrQQ/Tg2yetTGJdI/AAAAAAAAAYA/4oyJQYqm9N4/s220/267519_10150309585950915_659675914_9713916_2279066_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>28</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4164804836951819704.post-3511027887787461068</id><published>2009-05-08T07:16:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-05-08T07:46:39.814+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Ahh... Summer...</title><content type='html'>Rain rain come again : these four words seem to be on every one's lips nowadays... It had rained a couple of days back but has not brought any respite... The wretched inland temperate zone weather.. No wonder the heat has claimed more than 40 lives... Air Conditioners are modes of temporary relief : the moment you step out, you are hit by the heat - not less, but more intense... And what about the millions of people who are not privileged enough to own an A.C... The heat is not going to decrease with the complaining... The key word here is &lt;b&gt;Global Warming&lt;/b&gt;.... (for extensive reading on Global Warming, refer to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Global_warming"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;...)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A small effort on every one's part can converge into a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;behemothic&lt;/span&gt; effort by the entire world... Small things like switching off the lights, switching off the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;engine&lt;/span&gt; at signals, closing taps, etc. etc. is all that it takes... I remember being the only one, not only in my hostel,  but also in the entire locality to observe The Earth Hour -  which involved an hour of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;minimum&lt;/span&gt; or no current usage... Such audacity will not lead us anywhere but to our graves...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Written in public interest after a hot, sleepless night with low voltage!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4164804836951819704-3511027887787461068?l=neerjamisra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/feeds/3511027887787461068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4164804836951819704&amp;postID=3511027887787461068' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/3511027887787461068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/3511027887787461068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/2009/05/ahh-summer.html' title='Ahh... Summer...'/><author><name>Dazed by the Light I See...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12097958273658378453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DAJwhvkMrQQ/Tg2yetTGJdI/AAAAAAAAAYA/4oyJQYqm9N4/s220/267519_10150309585950915_659675914_9713916_2279066_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4164804836951819704.post-8849109521962555257</id><published>2009-04-26T03:47:00.006+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-26T21:37:38.948+05:30</updated><title type='text'>A Cinderella Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;The intervals between two exams have never been so boring. Everyone has left for home, I am the only one in my group to be stuck in this town, the only who hasn’t been home for six long months. Not that I am susceptible to homesickness, but now I really am and can’t wait to get home. Meanwhile the jobless me has nothing but two, umm no three… hmmm no four things to do every day. First, watch movies and more movies by staying up the nights. Second, sleep for long hours during the day. Third, occasionally eat and fourth remove unwanted facial hair. It is as if I have jet lag but minus the travelling. And for the past few days I didn’t feel like writing, so devoted all my time to Poker - my new obsession. I made a lot of money and then lost it all. Apart from that, during today’s sleep-deprived session, I saw the movie ‘A Cinderella Story’ starring Hilary Duff and Chad Michael Murray. It is another of my favourite romantic movies with a “and they lived happily ever after” end. While watching the movie, I underwent several realisations which I thought were necessary to be penned down (or keyed down in this case).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a story about a guy Austin Ames whose secret ambition is to go to Princeton and become a writer but is unable to express his feelings under the pressure of keeping up to his father’s dreams and everyone else’s expectations of him. He is in love with his ‘cyber girlfriend’ from his school. They have not revealed their true identities to each other but are deep in love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OQYf2T2MsQ4/SfOPkIz8AMI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Z43InWJe4d4/s320/A+Cinderella+Story.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328760635112816834" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;The ‘cyber girlfriend’ is none other than Sam Montgomery who works at her stepmother’s diner (which &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;had earlier belonged to her father) and also wishes to join Princeton. Both of them, as in Austin and Sam, were afraid to reveal their secret identities to the whole world. They carried on their ‘cyber relationship’ till the Halloween Dance. But as fate would have it (and also to suit the title of the movie), ‘the costumed Cinderella’ Sam had to leave before 12 midnight and dropped her phone instead of the shoe. After finding out that her ‘Prince Charming’ is actually Austin Ames – the school hunk – she gives up hopes for them being together, thinking he would never accept her. But Austin meanwhile has been searching extensively for her. Sam’s true identity is revealed just before the game in a not-very-attractive-way due to the evil plot of her step-sisters. And after this incident and a message from her father left on the diner walls, she musters up the courage to rebel against her step mother and announce to the whole world who she is and what she is made up, giving inspiration to her Prince to follow her lines. Sam found that the house and diner actually belonged to her and also that her abominable step mother had thrown away her acceptance letter from Princeton. Retrieving her authority, she made Fiona and her step-sisters work at the diner and restored the diner its original form. The movie ends with both of them leaving for Princeton together and living happily ever after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;(For a more elaborate summary of the story please refer to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Cinderella_Story).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;It was indeed a pleasant story but as always, I started deliberating. One point that caught my notice that each of the lead pair portrayed a different self from what they originally were. It is not true in the case of every person on earth? Are we not continuously trying to change ourselves to match up the expectations of people other than ourselves? When have we really paid attention to what we want ourselves to be, what do we need to be happy? In today’s fast world, everything is about pleasing others- our bosses, our colleagues, our family, and the list is never ending. Even dogs, who are described as ‘eager to please everyone’, do things which makes them happy. “It is better late than never “holds true in the driving world, not in our lives. Imagine getting enlightenment at the age of say 65 and the time to put it to execution is a few more years. It’s true that it is better than never getting that knowledge but would life not be much simpler and better if the knowledge was attained at the age of 30? According to some great philosopher (me), “life is meant to be lived absolutely not relatively”, meaning being content with your own life will get you the ultimate happiness. Comparing your position, you condition won’t.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Also another thing that I realized was how badly I need a guy who is romantic, who believes in himself and also in me( as opposed to someone who doesn't) and is not afraid to show. Well it applies to me too. And also to my host of friends. It is very very important to have people around you have faith in you and will stand by you (as in the case of Sam, it was Carter).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4164804836951819704-8849109521962555257?l=neerjamisra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/feeds/8849109521962555257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4164804836951819704&amp;postID=8849109521962555257' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/8849109521962555257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/8849109521962555257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/2009/04/cinderella-story.html' title='A Cinderella Story'/><author><name>Dazed by the Light I See...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12097958273658378453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DAJwhvkMrQQ/Tg2yetTGJdI/AAAAAAAAAYA/4oyJQYqm9N4/s220/267519_10150309585950915_659675914_9713916_2279066_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OQYf2T2MsQ4/SfOPkIz8AMI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Z43InWJe4d4/s72-c/A+Cinderella+Story.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4164804836951819704.post-4274580773409178684</id><published>2009-04-22T04:14:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-25T20:01:48.065+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OQYf2T2MsQ4/Se5TiwuGh3I/AAAAAAAAAB4/DGFxsNIGK2Y/s1600-h/Love.jpg'/><title type='text'>'TRUE LOVE'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OQYf2T2MsQ4/Se5T9MrlIFI/AAAAAAAAACA/LaEeP5d_MYM/s1600-h/IABGT+-+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OQYf2T2MsQ4/Se5T9MrlIFI/AAAAAAAAACA/LaEeP5d_MYM/s320/IABGT+-+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327287720067014738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;It is 4.15 in the morning and I haven't caught any sleep as usual. I tried sleeping by reading- didn't work. Then I proceeded to watch a movie -It's a Boy Girl Thing, a movie which I have watched umpteen times just because of my total love for the movie. It stars Samaire Armstrong and Kevin Zegers - both of whom I love dearly. Well this movie features in the list of my absolute favourites. It is the story about the protagonists Nell Bedworth and Woody Deane and how they embark upon a journey which starts with them hating each other and ending with them finding love in each other. The ending is actually the beginning of their relationship. It is a story involving a  body swap, which in fact is the main reason for the hero and the heroine of the movie coming together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am an absolute sucker for romantic movies and novels. And be it any book or film, I see my reflection in the heroine of the story. Same goes with this movie(minus the body swap though!). I love the way Woody confesses his love to Nell and love the way they fall in love. Any story which has the hero and heroine madly falling in love enthrals my interest. All the romantic movies and novels end up inciting a mixture of feelings in me. For one, I feel very happy thinking about it but on the other hand, it just makes me feel how drained and empty my life is. My mind knows that there is no 'perfect' person for anyone but my heart yearns for one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been the case since a very long time. And everytime I watch such movies, it makes me go crazy. Of late, this craziness has gone to such levels that I have convinced myself that my 'true' love is not in India but abroad!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OQYf2T2MsQ4/Se5TiwuGh3I/AAAAAAAAAB4/DGFxsNIGK2Y/s320/Love.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 264px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327287265884800882" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4164804836951819704-4274580773409178684?l=neerjamisra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/feeds/4274580773409178684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4164804836951819704&amp;postID=4274580773409178684' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/4274580773409178684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/4274580773409178684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/2009/04/true-love.html' title='&apos;TRUE LOVE&apos;'/><author><name>Dazed by the Light I See...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12097958273658378453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DAJwhvkMrQQ/Tg2yetTGJdI/AAAAAAAAAYA/4oyJQYqm9N4/s220/267519_10150309585950915_659675914_9713916_2279066_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OQYf2T2MsQ4/Se5T9MrlIFI/AAAAAAAAACA/LaEeP5d_MYM/s72-c/IABGT+-+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4164804836951819704.post-5527541234258411905</id><published>2009-04-21T09:50:00.007+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-26T06:37:48.128+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It was a long night. I have been up since 10 hours and been doing nothing but downloading songs, randomly. And between checking the songs and downloading pictures of Paris at night, I have been through a lot of thoughts, which like the songs were random. I opened Wikipedia and read about London, thereby leading to the following links one by one(I do not remember perfectly well though):-&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The London Eye&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A few other ferris wheels all over the world&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The tallest buildings on Earth&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Eiffel Tower&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Paris&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;And it was at Paris that I was stuck. Of late I seem to have been reading/seeing about Paris a lot. First, I read "Dancing on a Rainbow" by Barbara Cartland in which the protagonist escapes to Paris to 'check out' the guy arranged by her father for her marriage. An&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;d I am a die-hard romantic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OQYf2T2MsQ4/SfOzvA8yB6I/AAAAAAAAACg/gEELS3p_9J4/s400/Paris+-+1.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328800404399589282" /&gt;&lt;div&gt; The description of Paris totally blew me off. Secondly, I satiated myself with the sights of Paris in the movie 'The Devil wears Prada'. Thirdly, my best friend Tulika told me about her grandfather's life as as student in Paris. And many more such instances where Paris keeps coming into the picture. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The word Paris keeps playing in my sub-conscious mind. And now I have become really desperate to go to Paris, which totally seems impossible to me in the near future. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But Paris is not really what this post is about. I want to write down about many 'weird' changes I am going through. As a kid and a teenager, I have never shied away from attention. In fact, I believe I suffer from an insane Attention Seeking problem. But I have noticed since a few days I like retreating to my room in the hostel( which was one of the places I hated being at before a month back). I like sitting all by myself, reading a book or surfing the internet, avoiding human contact and conversations as much as possible. In fact, I hesitate to go out even when my close friends here call me. Its as if I am turning into an oyster or something, just trapping myself in a shell, except it is intentional. I am at the threshold of the 21st year of my life(I will be completing 20 years of my existence in May)...*Sob sob*... I have been through a lot of ups and downs in life, but never had I been so bent upon alienating myself from the entire world. My friends think I am crazy(which I agree I am). But the fact that they look down upon rather than appreciating it is what is making me this way I guess...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well I am just waiting for the next 10 days after which I will enjoy my blissful reunion with my Bruno. This is a photo of my baby Bruno:-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OQYf2T2MsQ4/Se1RBb2KM_I/AAAAAAAAABw/pj1Z7JERXLE/s320/100420071125.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327003019345802226" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4164804836951819704-5527541234258411905?l=neerjamisra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/feeds/5527541234258411905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4164804836951819704&amp;postID=5527541234258411905' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/5527541234258411905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/5527541234258411905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/2009/04/it-was-long-night.html' title=''/><author><name>Dazed by the Light I See...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12097958273658378453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DAJwhvkMrQQ/Tg2yetTGJdI/AAAAAAAAAYA/4oyJQYqm9N4/s220/267519_10150309585950915_659675914_9713916_2279066_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OQYf2T2MsQ4/SfOzvA8yB6I/AAAAAAAAACg/gEELS3p_9J4/s72-c/Paris+-+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4164804836951819704.post-6764275858724173861</id><published>2009-04-20T07:15:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-20T07:25:51.242+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have been up all night, HAVEN'T had coffee, watched 5(oh my God, I realised it now) movies through the night... Just Like Heaven, Sweet Home Alabama, Legally Blonde-1, Madagascar -2 and Harold and Kumar escape from Guantanemo Bay - all of which I love... I downloaded a couple of songs which I had never heard earlier!! It was quite an aimless night and this quite an aimless piece of writing. I was actually supposed to complete my English journal for my practical exam later today. But guess what, I finished watching 5 movies but haven't even completed even 1 piece of writing... I have been sleeping alone since a month(my room-mate Sachi has shifted to her home) and I have the liberty of messing up my room to any extent I want( which is pretty much what I have done all these days).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to take off, thinking of completing the journal. Its just 7 hours( that is a lot of time) to my exam and I need to complete, get pictures, STICK them, etc. etc. , viz. A LOT OF HARD WORK :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's it for now... Hope to return with some more serious, objective-oriented pieces.&lt;br /&gt;Ciao!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4164804836951819704-6764275858724173861?l=neerjamisra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/feeds/6764275858724173861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4164804836951819704&amp;postID=6764275858724173861' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/6764275858724173861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/6764275858724173861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-have-been-up-all-night-havent-had.html' title=''/><author><name>Dazed by the Light I See...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12097958273658378453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DAJwhvkMrQQ/Tg2yetTGJdI/AAAAAAAAAYA/4oyJQYqm9N4/s220/267519_10150309585950915_659675914_9713916_2279066_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4164804836951819704.post-8571466181414839688</id><published>2009-04-17T08:53:00.010+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-21T17:17:14.685+05:30</updated><title type='text'>You can decide the title!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;Not long back, on second thoughts, actually long back in September 2008 we had our University Youth Festival. It is a regular affair every year. Last year, though I didn't participate(because I was in the Hand Ball Team), I had been made in charge of the events to be held at the Chemistry Auditorium. And it was during one of the competitions( read literary), that I wrote the following poem...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;The contestants were given a few topics out of which one was Nature... Most of them came out with brilliant pieces of poetry. As for mine, it is no way near to brilliant, but &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;1. it doesn't make sense&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;2. will surely make you laugh...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;So here it goes:-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;***************************************************&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: center;  color: rgb(77, aa, 77);font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;MOTHER NATURE !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;I look up the sky and see the blue clouds,&lt;br /&gt;A feeling which makes me sing aloud,&lt;br /&gt;A feeling which lifts me to the air,&lt;br /&gt;A feeling strange yet similar to my mother's care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look around and see the green trees,&lt;br /&gt;Long for my mother's embrace which I miss,&lt;br /&gt;But the soothing green make me calm,&lt;br /&gt;And suddenly I feel alarmed-&lt;br /&gt;A large spider falls on my shoulder,&lt;br /&gt;Scared, I stumble upon a boulder.&lt;br /&gt;I break my leg and crack my head,&lt;br /&gt;Feeling that I would be better of dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Mother Nature at once comes alive,&lt;br /&gt;A little cute bird onto my side dives,&lt;br /&gt;And suddenly I feel alive,&lt;br /&gt;Never so in my entire life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;***************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I know... You must not have read as ridiculous a poem as this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4164804836951819704-8571466181414839688?l=neerjamisra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/feeds/8571466181414839688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4164804836951819704&amp;postID=8571466181414839688' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/8571466181414839688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/8571466181414839688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/2009/04/ummm-you-can-decide-title.html' title='You can decide the title!!!'/><author><name>Dazed by the Light I See...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12097958273658378453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DAJwhvkMrQQ/Tg2yetTGJdI/AAAAAAAAAYA/4oyJQYqm9N4/s220/267519_10150309585950915_659675914_9713916_2279066_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4164804836951819704.post-2880335289311805491</id><published>2009-04-14T06:47:00.008+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-22T04:53:28.000+05:30</updated><title type='text'>And the sand slips...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OQYf2T2MsQ4/Se5VVJwqFgI/AAAAAAAAACI/q1EJ98E0m9I/s1600-h/beach+sunset.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OQYf2T2MsQ4/Se5VVJwqFgI/AAAAAAAAACI/q1EJ98E0m9I/s320/beach+sunset.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327289231111493122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;A trip to the Puri beach was what I yearned for in the Diwali vacations and what I got after long hours of persuasion. So the very next day, I left for Puri with my group of friends- Anjana, Soumya, Tanaya and Tulika. It was actually a short trip of one day as I was supposed to leave for Gujarat after two days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;After reaching, all of us quickly changed into our shorts and went to bathe in the frothy waters. The setting sun glorified all of us from top to bottom. After satiating myself wholly, I came out with my pockets feeling heavy, the reason being them filled with sands. The sand which I removed thereafter(after I dried myself a bit) and which filled my hands kept slipping. The slipping sands and the roaring waves reminded me of the quote "Time and tide wait for none". The sand slipping from my hands personified the time slipping by. It made me contemplate - contemplate about my survival, my life. WHAT REALLY WAS I DOING THERE?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;This question was a little too heavy and needed proper thinking. But with the given atmosphere, I was not able to do much thinking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Later that night, while sitting by the moonlit beach, I pondered about THE question - the unanswered questions that filled the corners of my brain( not that I have many!).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;The purpose of life, I believe, is determined by the attitude and the priorities in one's life. It varies from person to person. But how often do people identify it and  its importance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;The purpose of life is like the vision of any company(I am a management student, no other example came to my mind). At various stages of life, goals change, but the long-term goal-the purpose remains steady. And I think all that everyone ultimately needs in the end is happiness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;I, for one, have many things that I need to do. Simple things that will make my life and that of people, and animals of course, around me better. Time is limited and we should try to work within this constraint to harness happiness - out of the little things in life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;In this really competitive world, people are forgetting the importance of 'other things'. The only thing that matter these days is success and money, though that might ultimately lead to happiness. But in this journey, they overlook the importance of the aforementioned 'small things'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Life is all about living it and getting the most out of it. So go ahead and LIVE! Enjoy! Don't let triffle matters disturb you. Instead pay attention to things that give and spread joy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4164804836951819704-2880335289311805491?l=neerjamisra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/feeds/2880335289311805491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4164804836951819704&amp;postID=2880335289311805491' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/2880335289311805491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/2880335289311805491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/2009/04/and-sand-slips.html' title='And the sand slips...'/><author><name>Dazed by the Light I See...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12097958273658378453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DAJwhvkMrQQ/Tg2yetTGJdI/AAAAAAAAAYA/4oyJQYqm9N4/s220/267519_10150309585950915_659675914_9713916_2279066_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OQYf2T2MsQ4/Se5VVJwqFgI/AAAAAAAAACI/q1EJ98E0m9I/s72-c/beach+sunset.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4164804836951819704.post-3527696463745547013</id><published>2009-04-14T06:20:00.007+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-21T17:43:35.322+05:30</updated><title type='text'>A start...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div   style="text-align: left; font-family:times new roman;color:rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(77, aa, 77); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"&gt;It has actually been a very long time since i wanted to start my own blog. There was a time when blogs were there everywhere. All my friends had their own 'fancy' blogs. And there was a period when all the celebrities also engaged themselves in 'writing blogs'. So I created an account at blog spot and left it like that. When I opened to check out a college mate's blogs, I actually actually wanted to start writing my own.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(77, aa, 77); font-family: lucida grande;font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I do not know how people who read this(I am sure very few of 'em) will appreciate it or not, but I guess blogs are just a medium to express oneself.&lt;br /&gt;So finally my brain and fingers have agreed to co-operate and I begin on this 'journey' of writing my own stories.&lt;br /&gt;Hope you like what you read and if you don't(read: most likely), it's okay... Just leave me a comment!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4164804836951819704-3527696463745547013?l=neerjamisra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/feeds/3527696463745547013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4164804836951819704&amp;postID=3527696463745547013' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/3527696463745547013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/3527696463745547013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/2009/04/start.html' title='A start...'/><author><name>Dazed by the Light I See...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12097958273658378453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DAJwhvkMrQQ/Tg2yetTGJdI/AAAAAAAAAYA/4oyJQYqm9N4/s220/267519_10150309585950915_659675914_9713916_2279066_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4164804836951819704.post-2669781244651255918</id><published>2008-03-13T18:39:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-21T17:40:31.007+05:30</updated><title type='text'>INTRO</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:   font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;color:rgb(77, aa, 77);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Well, I guess I should first start with my introduction... A rather late entrant in the blogger world, I am Neerja Misra,an 18(soon going to be 19) year old hailing from the town of Bhubaneswar in Orissa(though I consider Pune as my hometown in the core of my heart)... I wanted to get into blogging since a long time as there are many topics about which I would like to share my opinion with all those who read my blog... I state from the beginning that I do NOT intend to hurt anyone's feelings or sentiments... And opinionated as everyone is and rightly so,I am merely vocalising or rather writing down my opinion...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As my posts and "opinions" will need a little more time and attention than that available right now,I will start with them after a little while...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4164804836951819704-2669781244651255918?l=neerjamisra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/feeds/2669781244651255918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4164804836951819704&amp;postID=2669781244651255918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/2669781244651255918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4164804836951819704/posts/default/2669781244651255918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerjamisra.blogspot.com/2008/03/intro.html' title='INTRO'/><author><name>Dazed by the Light I See...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12097958273658378453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DAJwhvkMrQQ/Tg2yetTGJdI/AAAAAAAAAYA/4oyJQYqm9N4/s220/267519_10150309585950915_659675914_9713916_2279066_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
