<?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-35104728</id><updated>2012-02-01T05:12:10.931-08:00</updated><category term='Change'/><category term='Notification.'/><title type='text'>The-echoes-of-my-heart</title><subtitle type='html'>who am i??still wondering..will let you know when i realize it myself..till then..go through my musings!!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35104728/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>venkatesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06686409495995675685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35104728.post-4287137316435335032</id><published>2007-05-11T10:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-11T10:29:09.641-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Notification.'/><title type='text'>LISTEN UP!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bhavna-thexpression.blogspot.com/"&gt;Thoughts put into words&lt;/a&gt; would be  the name of my new blog.Guess i am notifying about the change quite late in the day,but better late than never.&lt;br /&gt;Happy reading!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;~Bhargavi Sekhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35104728-4287137316435335032?l=the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35104728/posts/default/4287137316435335032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35104728/posts/default/4287137316435335032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com/2007/05/listen-up.html' title='LISTEN UP!!'/><author><name>Bhargavi sekhar</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35104728.post-116490429094367695</id><published>2006-11-30T20:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-30T10:07:32.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When it rains,my heart shines..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-family: times new roman; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4539/3899/1600/446371/4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4539/3899/320/677735/4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;&lt;font&gt;The first drop hit like a bullet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;The thoughts in my mind twitched and twirled like a foetus in the woomb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt; Initially ,i thought it was the bubble in my bosom that b&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:times new roman;" &gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;a style="font-style: italic;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4539/3899/1600/988808/7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4539/3899/320/976240/7.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;urst out through the brain.The boisterous&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;wind only seemed to boost the brawl inside me.The second drop now.I felt my heart pounding against my eardrums.People closed their ears,ridiculous! My eyes seemed to glow inspite of me.People covered their eyes in protection,funny enough! Tears gushed down my cheeks.People wiped their faces,my lord! I know this is a confusing world and many are eccentric enough to be ignored.But i chose not to for one i was eccentric and two i wanted to divert&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;myself from and to something else.For once i looked skywards.The crimson tinge slowly faded away to change into a brilliant blue black blanket of clouds.Wait,there was something else! The pregnant clouds scattered all over.Oh my!it has been raining!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Boohoo! the child in me wanted to do a somersault.The strings in my heart now played a happy,cheerful tune.And that happiness was like poison.It was initiated in the palm sized organ and seethed to all the others in a split second.I was smiling, not just from ear to ear,but from head to toe.Iam not sure about other emotions,but joy is epidemic,atleast in this case.My eyes glistened in glee.The smell of the wetted sand lifted my spirits.The trees in the side,temporarily glittered by the rain seemed to greet me.I returned its bow.The muted sounds of the beautiful bluebells seemed as clear as the morning sky.The magnanimous marigold could contest against the mighty Sun for its gleam.The gorgeous river grazed my feet gingerly.I felt my insides souring.The night was black,my heart rosy.The moon rose and so did i, from my dreams.Just that some faultless dreams never ever fade away.The dreams were albeit colourful,the reality,black and white.The rain drops,a mirage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35104728-116490429094367695?l=the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com/feeds/116490429094367695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35104728&amp;postID=116490429094367695' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35104728/posts/default/116490429094367695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35104728/posts/default/116490429094367695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com/2006/11/when-it-rainsmy-heart-shines.html' title='When it rains,my heart shines..'/><author><name>Bhargavi sekhar</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35104728.post-116382983717468606</id><published>2006-11-17T21:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-17T22:10:26.633-08:00</updated><title type='text'>some ironical occasions..</title><content type='html'>Iam just 6 posts old and am already into posting a senseless one now!! waah..&lt;br /&gt;i think about my sweetie(thats how i fondly call my blog child)  almost 24*7 these days.Be it while walking,travelling in the bus(that is essentially the gestation period of each of my posts),or chatting,she is the one in the top of my mind and the bottom of my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its amazing how some free space in the internet would bring so much of joy into us.I mean we always had this MSword,excel,powerpoint,notepad kind of softwares,have we ever been so thrilled filling  pages there??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never imagined whining about my college life and i swore to myself that i never would make a pity-party out of that infront of my friends.But here iam basking in the sheen of the ever annoying &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'tch-tchs&lt;/span&gt;' and '&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;chi paaaaavam'&lt;/span&gt; (believe me that 'a' in this lasted thus long that i actually wondered if i had made such sulking sins all along!).But honestly it was comforting in a way too. (now..what is this?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the most ironical part of the whole scenario is that,i wanted to keep blogging all along and believe me,the moment i sit infront of my system,i run out of the topics!&lt;br /&gt;and no compliments for guessing that this is just one of those 'ironical' occasions!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35104728-116382983717468606?l=the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com/feeds/116382983717468606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35104728&amp;postID=116382983717468606' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35104728/posts/default/116382983717468606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35104728/posts/default/116382983717468606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com/2006/11/some-ironical-occasions.html' title='some ironical occasions..'/><author><name>Bhargavi sekhar</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35104728.post-116369748851911556</id><published>2006-11-16T07:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-16T09:24:53.936-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I better fly..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4539/3899/1600/paint.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4539/3899/320/paint.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;The moon kissed lane across the orchards&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;the  menace in my heart fresh as orchids&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;the merciless wind blows along the bay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;meddling with some melancholic memories on its way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;The mellow of thy voice does no better&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;in mending my measureless pains to flutter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;as i melt in the melody of the orchestrated mourning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;i mislay myself in pursuit of some learning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Not sure if i moved away from thy music&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;or it moved away from me, for i was sick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;whichever way i kept moving on,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;my macabre tale pushed me on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;I marshaled myself quicker than my legs could afford&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;and found myself,a mortal, all alive in a graveyard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;beauty is not the thing u look out for in a mortuary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;but the masterful in me chose to rest and tarry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;That is when i found her right near the mowed lawn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;fluttering all around like a muddled fawn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;she never seemed mortified in all her life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;but i know she can't live more than eight days as my wife.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Her nonchalance appeased me,rather appealed to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;to forget my malices and face the sea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;of life just like her,always in high octave&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;never bothered to bend infront of a wave.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;thanks i mumbled to my sweety pie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;she said -i better fly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;and kissed me goodbye.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35104728-116369748851911556?l=the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com/feeds/116369748851911556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35104728&amp;postID=116369748851911556' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35104728/posts/default/116369748851911556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35104728/posts/default/116369748851911556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-better-fly.html' title='I better fly..'/><author><name>Bhargavi sekhar</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35104728.post-116263877506735894</id><published>2006-11-04T00:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T08:59:19.616-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Iam very lucky indeed..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4539/3899/1600/visual%20art_007.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4539/3899/320/visual%20art_007.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4539/3899/1600/visual%20art_007.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4539/3899/1600/visual%20art_010.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4539/3899/320/visual%20art_010.3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Morning raaga-mum shouts at the top of her voice,'it is eight 'o' clock,do you have any idea of attending the college??'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I wake up with a shudder,scramble for my cellphone,not to check any of the goodmorning messages-aah!its only 7.35..i put my mobile beside my bed,pull up my blanket to shut the light way from my eyes.Suddenly i feel the rustling of clothes in my room,its my sister pinning up her &lt;em&gt;duppatta.&lt;/em&gt;Oh God!she is ready to go to the school!i check my cell-it is 7.46!!one minute gone..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I quickly make up my beddings.Rush to the hall ,careful not to meet mum's angry eyes.'You are going to miss the bus today,iam sure'-she says.I dont agree,i dont argue either.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;8am iam fully dressed-'where is the black ring that i wore yesterday?' i ask aloud,mum directs me to the dining table.Hell!i kept it while i was having my dinner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;8.15am,i start form my house,my,it is raining like hell.I reach the nearby busstop half-jogging,keeping pace with the time is not that easy, i think.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;8.25am i start getting restless,i have not spotted a bus yet.I ask an equally restless lady standing to my right-has the 15F gone?she chuckles and says 'BUS STRIKE!!'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I refrain myself from slapping her thinking in my mind that i will never ever forgive her for that 'evil grin' she sported.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;'couldn't she have informed this to me a little while ago?'sounds pathetic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;'couldn't u have asked her a little while ago?'sounds logical.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I rue myself for not being &lt;em&gt;aware&lt;/em&gt; of the damning strike.Start looking for a share auto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ah there comes one!wait!it was best compared to the lorry which gets filled with people during the by-elections time.Only difference this has a closed roof.I choose to wait for a little less packed auto,i give up,iam forced to i mean,atleast one in which travelling doesnot mean sitting on the lap of some awkward looking college guy.I some how make it to another busstop,this time i cross checked with my mum for the bus frequency.She replies to my queries with an I-told-u tone.I get down to pay for the auto and simultaneously try to open my favourite blue umbrella.aargh!it wouldnot open.I sense the driver smiling stupidly at my act,i quickly give him Rs.10(yup!its no longer Rs.5)Now that i got rid off the auto,i push the button at the base of the umbrella with more force,with rain drops trickling down my forehead,slowly expunging the &lt;em&gt;kumkum &lt;/em&gt;highlighting my &lt;em&gt;bindi.&lt;/em&gt;The handle is in one hand,the rest of it in the other.damn!Somehow i fit it right and look out for the bus to come,silently praying that i shouldnot be too late to the class.Are u looking for the time??nope,i have stopped checking the watch as the only thing it could do is raise my already soaring blood pressure.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The bus of the moment arrives!with its worn out tyres screeching to an unsteady halt.I fold my umbrella into three and run like  a mad towards the bus.Iam crushed,the hour long pressing of my fairly new green chudidhar going in vain,i hang precariously in the footboard.Thankfully the conductor recognized and spotted me as a female,he angrily ordered the men to leave way for me to get inside.Iam magically pushed forward,now iam in the centre of the rickety bus.I am balanced neatly by two men in the forward and two women at my side.I donot have to latch on to the side bars at all.With both my hands free i take out the money from my burgundy coloured purse and mouth a feeble 'broadway' to the woman beside.'eh?' she says.I realize i that i haven't been talking from the morning and so am least audible.I croak 'PARRYS,BROADWAY',perfectly aware that many donot know Parrys is officially called as Broadway.I turn to my left hearing a similar croaking,this time it is 'KMC'.Something between tickling and poking takes me by surprise.I rotate my head to find the doer,sea of humanity.The same act is repeated and this time i caught the hand,iam least perturbed,this happens everyday.My irritation sky rockets and i stamp the concerned idiot.I try not to curse these buggers,i dont succeed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;After what seems like ages of mechanical ticket-passing buisiness,i finally get myself seated,the rain drops now flowing as sweat.I patiently reply to all the good morning messages,wish success to all the unit/model '&lt;em&gt;testers'&lt;/em&gt; and turn on my fm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;'mazhai varudhu mazhai varudhu kudai kondu vaa..'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;waah!i look out through my window,it has stopped raining!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My destination arrives,i walk via the newly formed knee deep pond infront of my college half wishing that i knew some long jumping atleast.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The sepulchural colonial building creates an awe in itself.It inspires you even in its first sight.Offering my prayer to the statue of Dr.Bhimarao Ambedkar,i tread towards the path to my class.The path that has seen the footsteps of several great men,whose imprints on the sand of life has influenced many.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I enter the class with a typical girlish 'excuuuuse me sirrr'.Ofcourse,he lets me in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;the bell strikes 3 times,iam standing in the busstop again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I donot want to deliberate about the happenings in the college anymore,because most of them are not worth any.Except a countable few,no one has come there to study,people hardly speak/understand English(and all these while i thought the lawyers elaborate in Queen's English!!).Most of them suffer from severe AIDS(Attendance and Internals Deficiency syndrome!) and talking of sincierity-well what is that??(sincerity!!)All they know is to flirt endlessly and lie on the roads in the name of strike..darn..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Iam lost in thoughts on my way back home,i start wondering whether i have paid to perish in the hell.Have i lost myself in the world of fantasy in the name of pursuing my dreams.Or is this another of my worst nightmares??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The speed breakers on this occassion jerks me back to the present situation.Yup,i brushed away the engeneering seats from two esteemed institutions to get into this law college.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I did top the charts in the law entrance to get there,but..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;well,ifs and buts are of no use now.That is not going to change things,i start to think positive.Afterall not many among my friends had the oppurtunity to become what they have penned in their "Slam books".I have achieved what i dreamt of an that too at a minimum possible cost(Rs.2030/ per yr).I know what iam doing,and thankfully iam supported completely by family,now that they have come out of their skepticism quite unaware that iam skeptical about my own self now.**sigh**&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My cellphone beeps,'&lt;em&gt;gal,u r lucky 2 hav jus 3 hrs of clas di' &lt;/em&gt;reads the message from my "so-called" friend.I fight the urge to snap back and send '&lt;em&gt;yeah di,am very lucky.'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35104728-116263877506735894?l=the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com/feeds/116263877506735894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35104728&amp;postID=116263877506735894' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35104728/posts/default/116263877506735894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35104728/posts/default/116263877506735894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com/2006/11/iam-very-lucky-indeed.html' title='Iam very lucky indeed..'/><author><name>Bhargavi sekhar</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35104728.post-116179075550452962</id><published>2006-10-25T06:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-04T00:21:04.416-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It is raining here..</title><content type='html'>Just as Sunitha's well trained hands went on a rhythmic pattern accross the strings to tie the flowers her mind went in random directions bringing back some of the good old memories..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The days when she used to go to the school just to ensure that she wished her dearest friends on their birthdays without fail,the way she cried after losing one precious mark in maths , the innumerable adventures that she and her gang of girls were upto,her stupidly churned out tale that was blurted out to justify her mysterious absence for a few days during the early teens, the ferocious fights with her class boys who constantly kept teasing her and pulling her long black mane..&lt;br /&gt;As these thoughts passed by, she stroked her shoulder length remnants of her greying hair and looked up at the calender which had lord Ganesha posing with his entire family.It showed,june 10.2006.Something was special about the day and she knew it,oh damn! she clasped her mouth in disbelief.It sure was a special day,after all not every sunday is ur birthday!!It took her a second or two to calculate her present age-'40 or 41?? when on earth was i born??' Her childhood passion for maths helping her restless mind,she finally declared to herself that she has just spent 40 full years of life without much pomp and show.&lt;br /&gt;She slipped back to the restrospective mood,the reality struck like a blob in her throat and she choked out of pain.The fact that she hasnot spent a second of the last 24yrs of her life for herself was a little too difficult to react upon.The upturned book on philosophy said 'Death is not the greatest  loss in life,the greatest loss is what dies in us while we are alive.'&lt;br /&gt;heck!yes-she said to herself...her bubbliness fizzed out,her child-like curiosity evaporated,her urge to learn things boiled down to ashes -she understood that the real HER had vanished into thin air!She,like may other typical Indian women,had succumbed to domestic pleasures and pressures.She was suddenly reminded of her childhood dream of being the princess of Madras(now Chennai),peels of laughter echoed the hall.It was followed by rains of tears,serene downpour of emotions.&lt;br /&gt;She stood up,her face all screwed up reflecting the turmoil of emotions and the new founded solution for them.She had decided to think beyond the yonder and yet live beneath the sky.In short she had decided to pursue her childhood dream of being a princess-of her own dear LIFE!!&lt;br /&gt;She wiped down the tears that trickled down,and decided to calm down her nerves with a hot coffee.lo!the angels in the heaven photographed this wonderful moment,clapped their hands in appreciation and sprinkled waters of joy and love-how do u name it ??rain??&lt;br /&gt;ok then..its RAINING.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35104728-116179075550452962?l=the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35104728/posts/default/116179075550452962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35104728/posts/default/116179075550452962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com/2006/10/it-is-raining-here.html' title='It is raining here..'/><author><name>Bhargavi sekhar</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35104728.post-115969743883277557</id><published>2006-09-30T23:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-01T04:46:42.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All about friendship...</title><content type='html'>well..this very topic is quite controversial and contradictory to an extent..&lt;br /&gt;Anyway,here i would like to pen down my personal musings,and a few other MISCONCEPTIONS on the  so called (;)) coveted,most valued relationship on earth -"FRIENDSHIP" with which all of us(including urs truly) have been stuffed and thereby been suffocating others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1&gt;&gt;Friendship is some kind of a natural bond between two individuals(atleast) which can never possibly be defined by any doctrine in this world.&lt;br /&gt;I sometimes wonder how people say"hi!am looking out for friends here." To me one doesnt aquire friendship from nowhere, just accomodates them in their four-chambered castle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2&gt;&gt; Another idea that i have always failed to understand is how people expect their friends to be a photocopy(still xerox for many!) of their ownselves.For those who coudnot get my previous sentence,iam talking about people choosing their friends based upon their hobbies and interests (what a great coincidence...huh?heard it somewhere??)To me they are my mirrors-innocent,ignited,chivalrous or cantankerous,they just reflect my thoughts and i do just the same.Here the true image of the object can never be obtained on a screen,meaning "yeah andhar ki bath hai!."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3&gt;&gt;Friendship is a delicate relationship,sometimes it is as simple as a child's play,and at times it is as obscure as a child's tongue! either way its young,cherubic and obliviating.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes,unuttered words,wink of an eye,a mischevious smile,in short feelings beyond perception will haunt the thoughts,sometimes a simple sentence such as "I MISS U" would do the trick.&lt;br /&gt;If its a word of appreciation which works once,its a brickbat cum rotten tomato combo the other time.&lt;br /&gt;Some joys are better expressed in silence,some suspicions are better expressed in words,some agonies are better expressed in tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4&gt;&gt;Possessiveness-darn!its a two way sword,it strengthens as well as smashes a relationship.Petty cases over ones right over other in many a case has ended up in deep waters,so people-better watch out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5&gt;&gt;No friendship is complete without the silly fights in my opinion.It is enthralling as far as it doesnot hurt ones sentiments,feelings and conceptions.(this is dedicated to my sadistic friends ;) )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6&gt;&gt;This point is exlusively for the male-female friendship.(the author doesnot differentiate people once she starts considering them as her FRIEND) I find it funny when some of the guys explain about their friends who are gals with so much pride,enthusiasm and shyness(!) as though they got a chance to visit a zenana!! Please donot try to disgrace this relationship with thy immatured viewpoints and narrowminded deliberations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7&gt;&gt;Just a continuation of the previous note.Its all fine when people of the same gender flock together,the problem arises when it is otherwise.Too many misundertandings,unwarranted deeds,unconscious assaults seem to cause a deeper cut when it is done by your opposite gender.And yes when this friendship blooms well only to give a fruit of love,sometimes the very root of the tree is shook,there is nothing to wonder aloud even if u find an additional sapling near the giant tree !! after all friendship is one of the purest forms of love.(mistook by people as carnal desire these days)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8&gt;&gt; Friend is the only soul in this world who has seen you in varying colours,growing from stature to stature,child to infant,mad to insane,funny to crazy.He/she is the only person in this world who has gotten the enviable opputunity of viewing u unmasked and unartificially.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9&gt;&gt;Friendship is not all about hanging out together always,joking and enjoying or neither is a rehabilitation house to fill in your emptiness or vent out your emotions.Its unconditional love,unsophisticated love,untrained love,unsparing love..it is LOVE!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10&gt;&gt;Thanks for being so patient,and yes be a good friend of mine and drop in your comments, opinions, views, suggestions,eggs,stones, yourhearts,brains(if any that is!) and ya MY heart for i have already transferred it to thy names...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35104728-115969743883277557?l=the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35104728/posts/default/115969743883277557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35104728/posts/default/115969743883277557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com/2006/09/all-about-friendship.html' title='All about friendship...'/><author><name>Bhargavi sekhar</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35104728.post-115944424567909602</id><published>2006-09-28T02:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T05:02:44.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My tryst with God!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;"More things are wrought by prayer than the world can ever imagine of."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I did not believe in this quote until recently when i had a chance to visit Puttaparthi,Andhra Pradesh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;That was the time when my own senses were playing truant with me,my instincts kept betraying me,my decisions threatened to ruin my life...in short nothing..just nothing was going my way.I needed some kind of an external help even to trudge along the path of life.I tried to tackle the issues by myself,but it wouldnot work.Nothing less than a divine intervention seemed to have a chance of bringing me back to normalcy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Just to get out of the tumultous situation,i prayed to God to give me enough strength,courage and patience,with utmost devotion...HE was still not ready to help me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Having been in touch with Him for 17 long years,i have always had unflinching faith in Him.I knew he would come to my rescue readily.But when?? my agony kept augmenting and had reached its zenith!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Being a mere human overpowered by strong emotions and serious self doubts i snapped up infront of Him...gave Him a piece of my mind..threatened to become an athiest!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;God, unimpeachable that he is,showed me why he is still worshipped by zillions of people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;My telephone bell rang,struck the right note with my haunted mind!! yup!! that was it..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I got an oppurtunity to go to Parthi and see Swami Sri Satya Sai Baba.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;That was enough to boost me up.The very idea of going there was soothing and when i heard about my cousin sister's plan to accompany me,my joy knew no bounds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The 11hr long bus journey was only just enough for me to update her,and sing and listen to a couple of melodious bhajans.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Neither me nor her knew when the angel of sleep kissed our eyelids,when we finally opened our eyes,we were in the sprawling campus of the mandir(temple).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;With the word "Sairam" and serinity everywhere every bit of the campus seemed to emanate holiness,love,Godliness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;After refreshing ourselves we headed to the spacious prayer hall named ' Sai kulvant hall.'Had an hour long bhajan session soulfully rendered by the students.Naadopasana they say..I witnessed it then..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Just when the 'arathi' song was being sung,The Man whom everyone of us were expecting came,not with his usual majesty though,a little subdued and tired this time,nontheless the power in his eyes still intact.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;He shoved his hands as though saying "iam there",looked straight into my eyes or did he really?? i have no clue .Tears..more tears.. Uncontrollable tears blinded my eyes,i was speechless, had forgotten the reason for my being there,felt as though all my questions were answered,heart lightened up,i felt the difference almost instantaneously..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;When i regained myself,he had already left the place.But the 2 minutes,the two magical minutes! ecstasy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;These days i hope to get more troubles,so that i get bogged down,pray to him and meet him soon!trying to adapt the logic of a child crying for the sake of choclates :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Thank u God...for everything....SAIRAM.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35104728-115944424567909602?l=the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35104728/posts/default/115944424567909602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35104728/posts/default/115944424567909602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com/2006/09/my-tryst-with-god_28.html' title='My tryst with God!!'/><author><name>Bhargavi sekhar</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35104728.post-115935767304234162</id><published>2006-09-27T04:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T10:43:26.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A pessimist's way of leading an optimistic life...</title><content type='html'>Dont look at a glass as half empty,its half filled..eh??optimistic way??wat else do u call it?a key to success?? bah..the worst thing is if someone points the drawback of this idea,they are doomed as pessimists..negative thinkers..losers!!&lt;br /&gt;for instance,u(assuming as an optimist) say"Chase ur dreams."&lt;br /&gt;i(needless to assume!)say "dont indulge in a wild goose chase."&lt;br /&gt;the thing is both of us are getting there or are desperate to get there,thats the point!!why not look at the darker side of a problem,crib about it,and there by get a spark?In my view,a pessimist gets a lot of oppurtunity to analyse and modify himself to the different situations that arise.He is more prepared to a disaster than an optimist for he is always expecting them,rather awaiting theirpresence with open mind and open hands!&lt;br /&gt;Only when u concentrate on a black spot on an otherwise plain white sheet,will u now the amount of space to free your arms.Only when you sit in the dark,a small photon becomes a ray of hope.Only when u chalk down your weak points u realize ur innumerable strong points.&lt;br /&gt;In short only when u fail 1000 times will u be able to recognize the one right way to success,and yes only when u know there is 99% chance of failing will u not think of giving up and thus be able to realize the 100% ecstasy of victory and when it eventually comes!!&lt;br /&gt;Try this out....this is just the "Diamond cuts Diamond" method..after all we are diamonds not any other ordianary stones....now...am i getting optimistic???damn!!ur influence..wat else can i say???;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35104728-115935767304234162?l=the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com/feeds/115935767304234162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35104728&amp;postID=115935767304234162' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35104728/posts/default/115935767304234162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35104728/posts/default/115935767304234162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-echoes-of-my-heart.blogspot.com/2006/09/pessimists-way-of-leading-optimistic.html' title='A pessimist&apos;s way of leading an optimistic life...'/><author><name>Bhargavi sekhar</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry></feed>
