Apni galli
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?blogId=307
Bakers Q
veni_tamirisa2023-08-15T16:06:22ZThe Train Chronicles Part – II
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=4896&blogId=307
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left"><strong></strong></p><strong><p> </p><p> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span></span></p><p style="display: inline !important"> </p><div style="text-align: left"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal"><strong><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; display: inline !important"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal">Last time I hadwritten down the journey that taught me that I have a choice. A choice, to seethings with a brand new hope and also a chance, to retain the faith that I sobadly wanted to lose. Well, this journeycomes long after the one I mentioned before. So here it goes. </span></span></p></strong></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal"><strong><p style="display: inline !important"> </p></strong></span></div><p style="text-align: left"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal">This time aroundtoo, I was travelling alone. This time, I didn’t have my mom around to beworried. Somehow, I strongly believe that all mothers are trained to beperpetually worried about their kids, no matter what the kid’s age. And when Iask my mom if she would ever treat me like a grown-up, well, every one of usknows the answer to that, never! Ican’t argue with her though. Luckily, this time I was travelling to Hyderabad. </span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal"><strong></strong></span></p></strong><strong><div style="text-align: left"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal"><strong></strong><strong><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; display: inline !important"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal">I reached thestation more than an hour early, something that I learnt from my father. It isalways best to be as early as possible, better to be an hour early and good tobe on time. I used to love being early to the railway station as a kid. Thereason being that it always gave us (me, my sister and my brother) enough timeto look at all the vendors on the platform and decide who wanted what</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal">. And it was amazing to tremble, and I trembled every single timeuntil I was thirteen, whenever the trains pulled in or out of the platforms.And I guess, the reason I enjoyed being early was because I always had company,my entire family. So you can pretty much guess by now at how bored I was atbeing alone. It took me fifteen minutes, because I deliberately dragged my feetso that it was long enough, to examine every single food stall, cart and bookstand on my platform. Then in about another ten minutes, I walked thrice to the reservation chart, first checking for my name and seat. Second time, I checkedthe names of the people who would be sharing my compartment, knowing veryclearly that it hardly mattered. The third time, I checked if all the 72 seatswere occupied and made a general conclusion of the age groups that I mightencounter during my journey. After playing Sherlock Holmes with my reservationchart, I grew bored. I kept praying that the doors to the coach would springopen suddenly. I told myself that I wouldn’t mind sitting all alone in my seateven as they cleaned the coach. If I could hold my breath for a solid twentyminutes, I should be fine. Despite these assurances, my body refused and itkept telling me that I couldn’t definitely sustain two minutes while theycleaned, twenty would mean that I would have already been six feet under. AfterI agreed with what it had to say, and after I was thankful that they didn’tactually hear my plea and let me in, I looked out for something more to do. Ihad about half hour before they would open the coach. As I found nothing interesting to read, I decided I would find something interesting to look at and observe. I somehow, always, end up doing this no matter where I am. </span></span></p></strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal"><strong><p style="text-align: justify; display: inline !important"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal">So once it wasdecided, I started scanning the entire platform carefully. There were a lot oftechies (This is the term used to describe people who study hard to end uplosing their life to a computer and someone who will always tell them what todo, always tell them that there is always a better way to do something that youhave done best and most importantly, always tell them how bad they did whatthey did and that a monkey would do better for a banana) on the platform. Inabout five minutes, I could figure out that all of us (the techies) were thesame. We don’t think twice, unless it is regarding leave. We buy what seems appealing. And we never fully read any magazine, we just skim through. And wenever feel complete unless the phone’s ringing or we have some access to theinternet. If you notice carefully, you can see every techie in total discomfortif they are given free time and no internet.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify; display: inline !important"> </p><p style="text-align: justify; display: inline !important"> </p><p style="text-align: justify; display: inline !important"> </p><p style="text-align: justify; display: inline !important"> </p><p style="text-align: justify; display: inline !important"> </p><p style="text-align: justify; display: inline !important"> </p></strong></span></span></div></strong><p> </p><p style="text-align: left"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal">Suddenly, I wasamazed, at how suddenly in fact, that I realised that I missed someone comingand seeing me off. Though I still maintain that I am slightly uneasy when mymom comes to see me off, I horribly missed her this time. And out of thisfeeling, I called almost all my friends in Bangalore and made it a point totell them that I was leaving. I don’t know if anyone could figure out why Icalled them, but I felt better. And inthe time left, I watched the crowd again. I saw kids running haywire as parentstried to manage them and the luggage. I watched as parents came to drop theirkids off and vice versa. Once the doors opened, I watched as everyone rushedin. I waited till most of them managed to get in and then I walked in, found myseat and settled down. But the thought, that it would have been better ifsomeone came to see me off had still not left me. I guess it was so because Ihave gotten used to mom dropping me off, or because I had then seen a lot ofpeople coming by to drop their dear ones.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal">What I realisedlater was that this feeling could’ve been instigated by the fact that someone Iknew had enquired about this particular journey of mine. And though I decidedthat I would think not much of it, I guess I could not help thinking. And itwas my disappointment that I couldn’t find him at the station, in the mostcinematic way that brings in surprise, that I was probably hoping someone wouldsee me off. As soon as I realised this, I kept looking out for him, trying tofool myself that I actually was just casually glancing. I was smiling at mystupidity, my fanciful thoughts, when I saw him outside the window, goingtowards the chart to figure out where I would be. And almost naturally, Ibecame my generally uptight self. I decided that whatever it might be, hewouldn’t know that I was hoping he would come. Once he came in, I acted as though it didn’t mean much. It almost comesnaturally to me to be as cold as stone and so I was sure I convinced himsuccessfully. We talked a little about everything in general and as thedeparture was announced, goodbyes were said. I maintained my same expression ofdisinterest throughout, though, till date I cannot understand why was it that Ididn’t want him to know that I was pleased that he came or that I was waitingfor him to come. But the moment I thought that the train was ready to move, Ilooked outside my tinted window and was shocked that he was looking in, to findme. It took me a while to realise that he couldn’t possibly see me, but still, Iwas shocked because it felt like he was looking right at me and smiling and somehow he had realised that the expression I had on my face was all fake.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal">After all this,the train finally did start. I dared not to look out again and immersed myselfin a novel. And at night as I tried to fall asleep, I couldn’t stop thinking,that after all these years, there was actually a stranger who could look at meand know what I was hiding. I have always been careful around people. Exceptfor my family and the closest of my friends, to everyone else I am a differentperson. So, just as any logical person like me would do, I chose to ignorepeople who could read me easily and thus, I chose to ignore him. And once thatdecision was made, I could sleep; I no longer had to try. And regarding whathappened later, well that’s a story for the next time. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal"><strong></strong></span></p><strong><div style="text-align: left"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal"><strong></strong><strong><p style="display: inline !important"> </p></strong></span></div></strong><p> </p>Friends2010-06-06T20:29:16Zveni_tamirisaVeni Calling Veni
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=4566&blogId=307
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: normal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small"></span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, geneva"><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal">Me<span> </span>:<span> </span>Hello?</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal">Veni<span> </span>:<span> </span>Hey Veni,Veni here.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal">Me<span> </span>:<span> </span>Hey,Hellos. Long time huh!</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal">Veni<span> </span>:<span> </span>Yeah!!Seems like somebody doesn’t have any time for me anymore.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -36pt; line-height: normal">Me<span> </span>:<span> </span>Oh Come on yaar! Aise nahinbolthe. I’ve just been occupied with a lot. And I don’t need to tell you, ofall the people. You have always understood me better. And you know what wealways say.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -36pt; line-height: normal">Veni<span> </span>:<span> </span>Yeah! Yeah! I know. People whoknow you would never seek an explanation and people who don’t know you wouldnever understand even though you explain.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -36pt; line-height: normal">Me<span> </span>:<span> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings"><span>J</span></span>see. Now you should know.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -36pt; line-height: normal">Veni<span> </span>:<span> </span>Hmm. Yeah I forgot I was talkingto myself.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -36pt; line-height: normal">Me<span> </span>:<span> </span>HaHaHa. So, missed me writing toyou or myself or whatever that would translate to?</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -36pt; line-height: normal">Veni<span> </span>:<span> </span>Of course!! Why do you think I amgetting all touchy about you being out of touch with me or yourself or whateverthat translates to ?</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -36pt; line-height: normal">Me<span> </span>:<span> </span>I am sorry. It’s just thatwhenever something big happens in my life, I tend to lose touch with you. Idevote myself completely to whatever is happening in the present.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -36pt; line-height: normal">Veni<span> </span>:<span> </span>And if it goes horribly wrong,you avoid me, because I am your harshest critic.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -36pt; line-height: normal">Me<span> </span>:<span> </span>And also because I hate tellingmyself the “oh-so-clichéd-I-Told-You-So”.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -36pt; line-height: normal">Veni<span> </span>:<span> </span>HaHaHa. Makes sense. But isn’t itbetter off coming from me, precisely from within yourself, than anyone else ? </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -36pt; line-height: normal">Me<span> </span>:<span> </span>Yeah!<span> </span>You are right ! </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -36pt; line-height: normal">Veni<span> </span>:<span> </span>I didn’t want to go all preachyon you. That’s definitely not why I called. I just wanted to remind you thatit’s better not to always lose touch with your inner self. I kind of missed thechats that we always had.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -36pt; line-height: normal">Me<span> </span>:<span> </span>I am sorry I’ve been ignoringyou. I don’t want to lose myself again. And I’m really glad that you called.Thanks dear. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -36pt; line-height: normal">Veni<span> </span>:<span> </span>Don’t thank me. I am here to takecare of you no matter what. I can’t go anywhere else, can I? <span style="font-family: Wingdings"><span>J</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -36pt; line-height: normal">Me<span> </span>:<span> </span>So, how do we go about keeping aregular check on our talks then?</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -36pt; line-height: normal">Veni<span> </span>:<span> </span>You needn’t worry. I will alwaysbe around keeping a tab on you. You can’t keep anything from me. <span style="font-family: Wingdings"><span>J</span></span> Will call you when theneed arises. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal"><strong>*and I hang up on myself*</strong></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -36pt; line-height: normal"> </p></span><p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -36pt; line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small"></span></p>Friends2010-03-24T00:16:23Zveni_tamirisaThe Train Chronicles
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=3926&blogId=307
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial"><p> There are a lot of movies which emphasize on the importance of making new acquaintances in life. The Indian film industry thrives on the relationships made or broken during these journeys. The ones I am more familiar to, are the people I meet in the train. I have been traveling a lot by the railways ever since I ended up in Bangalore. Lovely city. But that’s not the point of my discussion here. Being a true taurean to the core, I always tend to observe people. And hence, my train journeys always leave me with a lesson or two. If not a lesson, at least a memory which will always find a place in my heart. Ani always tells me that we always meet people for some reason in life. Reasons which might be outright obvious, or sometimes which unfold after that person moves away from you.</p><p>I have met countless number of people in all these journeys that I have made over the past 9 months. And these blogs would be my best attempt at describing everything that has caught my attention or made a difference to my life in some way.</p><p> </p><p> Part-1</p><p> </p><p> As always mom was worried about me travelling alone. Even after countless assurances that I am not her little girl anymore, she had to go to the other passengers in the compartment ; an old couple, and asked them to look after me. My brother just stood next to her and enjoyed all this. Every time that I looked at him, pleading for help, to control mom’s anxiety, he shot me this look which personified “She won’t listen to you. How, in the world, do you think she would listen to me!!!”. Though I was mighty mad at her, I couldn’t help but smile because I know she wouldn’t be at ease unless she does something like that. I guess even though you grow taller than your parents, they will still see you as a toddler looking for a hand to hold <span style="font-family: Wingdings">J</span> After assuring her that I am all set to travel alone, and that I would answer every single call of hers, she smiled and waved goodbye. Oh! What a relief that she smiled. Smiling to myself, I turned my attention to the people with whom I would be travelling. There was one very old couple as I already mentioned. I learnt later that they were married for 40 glorious years. There was another family, mom, dad and two kids. The kids kept studying for most of the time. Apparently they had some exams the next day and they were seriously preparing. And there was another man, I presumed him to be a Physical Ed teacher or a coach somewhere, because he was very particular about what he ate throughout the journey and kept reading fitness magazines. I am sure he read about half a dozen different magazines, all revolving around fitness; either fitness through exercise or fitness through sports!!!</p><p> </p><p> For a while I was lost in my own world, with my iPod plugged in and playing at the max volume <span style="font-family: Wingdings">J</span> I tend to do that a lot, especially when I feel the need to cut myself off from the world I am in. And the loud music ensures that my thoughts are always under control. After a while, Grandma and Grandpa (the old couple; I will refer to them as grandma and grandpa because that is what they wanted me to call them ) called me to know if I wanted to have dinner with them. I smiled and told them that my mom had packed a heavy meal from home. Grandpa then asked me to go and wash my hands and come so that we could all have dinner together. This he said to everyone sitting around, including the family and the Physical Ed/coach. Everyone agreed, more so because we tend to respect elders even though they are strangers. By the time I readied myself for dinner and got back to my seat, grandma had already set the table ready. She had laid out paper plates and plastic cups for everyone. I sat with the kids for dinner and all the elders sat together. And then the general discussion started as to who was doing what and who stayed where. The kids were calm and seemed more tensed regarding the exam next day. But they did talk to me a little, asking me what I was doing and what cartoons I like (<span style="font-family: Wingdings">J</span> this is the best part about hanging out with kids, the important discussions always revolve around cartoons. The uncomplicated phase of life!! ). The rest of the elders refused to acknowledge me an adult. I didn’t mind it much because I enjoyed hanging out with the kids and they seemed to like me too. After a really long dinner, we disposed off our plates and just sat chatting. Grandma then asked me what was it that I did and was pretty surprised when I told her that I work. The surprise element was because all of my mom’s concern about me travelling alone made her believe that I was studying away from home. Grandpa too had come back and joined the conversation and grandma quickly told me that I was working and he started the economic discussion. (With all the recession hype, I have always been asked how safe my job was especially when I tell people I am working). I was too glad that they were treating me like an adult now (<span style="font-family: Wingdings">J</span> I Guess I am one of those faces which will never show any maturity to be treated like an adult. I always look like a kid.)</p><p> </p><p style="text-indent: 0.5in">Soon it was bedtime, and the whole compartment was noisy with people trying to make their beds. Every single time I travel by train, I eagerly wait for the hour when everyone gets ready for bed. This is when everyone is extra helpful to everyone around. It always makes me feel like I am travelling with a huge extended family. Everyone is someone’s uncle or aunty. And everyone is someone’s beta or beti <span style="font-family: Wingdings">J</span>. I always find it awesome that we Indian’s can make relations at the oddest of places. I could hear all the younger crowd offering their lower berths to the older or the people who wanted them and casually shifting to the upper ones. I too offered my lower berth to grandpa and moved to the upper one. And as I watched, grandpa started to make the bed for grandma on the middle birth. The coach offered his lower birth, but grandma insisted that she wanted the middle one <span style="font-family: Wingdings">J</span> She said “I can still climb. I am not as old as he is.” (pointing to Grandpa). I couldn’t help but smile. The whole scenario reminded me of this character in a movie called “Guarding Tess” , where the central character is a woman of high accomplishments who always says “I will run when I can walk and walk when I still can sit!! “ <span style="font-family: Wingdings">J</span> After everyone was ready for bed, grandpa and grandma just sat together and talked for a while. I was on my berth and I could hear them chat for a long time about everything. Initially I thought it would be something personal, regarding them or their kids and their families, but a little while later I heard them sit and talk about the world politics, sports and each other’s preferences. I was quite amazed at length of the discussion. About an hour later or so, grandpa slept. The kids too were fast asleep. The coach was snoring, but it didn’t seem too much of a disturbance. Grandma was still awake and kept humming a few old telugu songs. When I moved on my berth, she called out to me and asked if I was still up. I told her that I was. Just like a concerned mother, she asked me if I had trouble sleeping because she was singing. I told her that these days I do have a lot of trouble sleeping and it had nothing to with the train or the journey. And again just like my mom always does, she told me that I should relax once in a while, stop worrying too much like all the young adults my age do. And somehow I realized then that I do actually worry a lot. And most of my worries are always baseless. I worry about things that are of very less importance and tend to entangle myself in all those things that might end up unimportant in the near future. We talked for a few more minutes and then grandma too slept. I stayed awake all through the journey, more so because I still couldn’t get my head free from all the thoughts that I have.</p><p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> </p><p style="text-indent: 0.5in">Morning came and I walked to the door, opened it and stood there for a while. The sun was just about to rise and there was little light around. I felt a tap on my shoulder and I turned around. Grandma was already up. She smiled at me and said “You should stop worrying at least when you are about to see the Sun rise for a new day”. I just smiled back and said nothing. And as we both just stood there waiting for the Sun to rise, Grandma asked me another question. “What comes to your mind when you see a beautiful sun rise or a sunset? “. And suddenly I remembered Sandy. I went back in time to this conversation with Sandy a few months ago. We were all discussing the exact same thing. Sandy had mentioned that Sunrise made him realize that it was a new day and a new start to life, and that all of yesterday’s worries were to be forgotten. And I remember telling him that every time I was up at Sunrise, I always thought “Another bloody day starts!! It’s the same miserable life continuing into another 24 hours”. (Now, don’t go assuming that I am always this depressed. Sandy asked me that question when I was depressed. I ain’t anymore <span style="font-family: Wingdings">J</span> ). Remembering all this I just smiled at grandma again. And I guess she understood that I was more of a cynic. She just said this to me. And this changed my view about life that day. She said “Every time I look at the Sun rise, I see that I have another day to live. That God has credited another day to my account, leaving me with the power to make what I want of it. I can chose to sulk about all the pains and troubles that come as a package with the onset of age, but I instead chose to be happy that I have another day with a loving husband and a lovely family”. I have had people tell me that for the past 8 months. But I have to admit that I have been adamant to accept that I had the choice to make my life better. I chose to suffer for a lot of things about which I can do nothing. And somehow, maybe it was more of an impact of the situation I was in, I chose to listen to a complete stranger who had become my grandma overnight. I smiled at her and said that I would try to look at life like her. I don’t know why I let her words make an impact on me that day, but I know that I have enjoyed all the mornings since then. I don’t sulk anymore, I love the Sunrise and Sunset.</p><p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> </p><p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> And as we all reached our destinations, we said goodbye’s to each other and parted. The kids promised to write to me (as in e-mail me <span style="font-family: Wingdings">J</span>), the coach lent me his fitness magazine which I misplaced later and grandma and grandpa wished me good luck for my future. Strangers who became family over the course of a journey and then parted again as strangers <span style="font-family: Wingdings">J</span>. This is the beauty of a journey, you can meet unknown people, become friends and then leave again as unknowns- no pretentions or expectations to meet again.</p><p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> </p><p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> </p><p style="text-indent: 0.5in">A stranger did walk in and change the course of my life last year. It just took another stranger, this train grandmother of mine, to teach me that life still does go on. And dear grandma, I still am trying, I haven’t given up yet and yes I am worrying a little less each day!! <span style="font-family: Wingdings">J</span></p><p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> </p></span>Friends2009-09-05T21:57:49Zveni_tamirisaCradle of Filth
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=3683&blogId=307
<p>
"Cold was my soul,
</p>
<p>
untold was the pain ,
</p>
<p>
i faced when you left me,
</p>
<p>
a rose in the rain.
</p>
<p>
So i swore to the razor,
</p>
<p>
that never unchained,
</p>
<p>
by the dark nails of fate,
</p>
<p>
be pushed through my veins again."
</p>
<p>
The above are the favorite lines of my favorite person.
</p>
<p>
Courtesy: A song called "Nymphetamine" by 'Cradle of Filth'.
</p>Friends2009-05-31T21:53:59Zveni_tamirisaRight or Wrong?
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=3674&blogId=307
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt">
<span style="font-size: small; font-family: Calibri">What do you do when life shows you two opposites and your mind is torn deciding what could be right?</span>
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt">
<span style="font-size: small; font-family: Calibri">Do you even want to put yourself in situations like that?</span>
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt">
<span style="font-size: small; font-family: Calibri">Would you volunteer and proceed towards the ‘torture house’ knowing that is where you would end up?</span>
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt">
<span style="font-size: small; font-family: Calibri">Every time I decide that I won’t let my thoughts take control over me, life puts me in a place where I stand and think “What the Heck!! For this thing (or person) I can take a thousand times worse punishment” because, though cynical by habit, something inside me still tells me I can trust that I would have that support. But Wham!!! I get hit so hard, all the time. </span>
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt">
<span style="font-size: small; font-family: Calibri">Nevertheless, I am willing to stick to “my so called misjudgement of the situation or the people in it”, as my own choice and live with it. Because the one decision I made in my life was that I would live it my way. My mistakes and my choices. My happiness because of what I achieved as ME. And when I look back years later, down the lane, I can still tell myself that I did something because I really wanted to.</span>
</p>Friends2009-05-24T22:52:55Zveni_tamirisaLife in the twilight zone
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=3639&blogId=307
<span style="font-size: small; font-family: verdana,geneva">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt">
I stand and look at myself today
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt">
See myself a little broken,
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt">
A little burnt,
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt">
A little hurt and charred, here and there.
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt">
I also see a smile on my face
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When I think of what I have seen
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What I have done so far
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To be standing today, and that too here.
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There has been sunshine at times,
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And storms too soon followed.
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I have been ripped apart,
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But at the same time found beliefs that strung me back together.
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I have lost
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And found myself almost instantly,
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In someone’s sorrow
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Or in someone’s smile.
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Now,
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At this point,
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I look back,
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But yet I do not see.
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There is a part of me, yet to be free
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Or maybe there is something inside of me which has to yet disappear.
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This has been my life,
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My life in the twilight zone <span style="font-family: Wingdings"><span>J</span></span>
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P.S:
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This is a thank you note to all the people who have touched my life in one way or the other.
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</span>Friends2009-05-09T08:35:05Zveni_tamirisaMy World
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=3544&blogId=307
<p>
I have been up...
</p>
<p>
I have been down.
</p>
<p>
I have been happy...
</p>
<p>
and i have been low.
</p>
<p>
I have been smiling like a fool...
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I have been on the verge of breaking down.
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I have acted alive every single moment...
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<p>
but yet i have been dead from inside for a really long time.
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All i realised is that. . .
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<p>
No matter what i do, how hard i fight,
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<p>
I am still standing at the same point
</p>
<p>
watching the world move past at lightning speed,
</p>
<p>
watching people walk away,
</p>
<p>
But i am still there,
</p>
<p>
caught in words, lies and truth
</p>
<p>
which have halted my movement in this world.
</p>
<p>
</p>Friends2009-03-29T15:07:20Zveni_tamirisaLives together
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=3521&blogId=307
<p>
Was watching Notting Hill, and this scene kinda reminded me a lot of things i was cynical about for a long time.
</p>
<p>
Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant are walking in this private garden, and Julia Roberts stops near a bench and reads what is written on it-
</p>
<p>
"To June who loved this garden,by Joseph who always sat beside her"
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<p>
and then she says "Some people do spend their entire lives together".
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<p>
And then i realised, that my cynical thoughts have changed over the past few months. But Life has again brought me to a place where i am being forced to be cynical.
</p>
<p>
Dont know why. Dont want to know why. Because logic and reasoning dont work in matters related to heart. Reasons seem like excuses and Logic hurts like hell.
</p>Friends2009-03-22T21:57:12Zveni_tamirisaThe greatest hangover ever!!!
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=3447&blogId=307
<p>
<span style="font-size: x-small; font-family: georgia,palatino">The whole world is a huge pub.</span><span style="font-size: x-small; font-family: georgia,palatino"><br />
<span style="font-family: georgia,palatino">God is the most amazing bartender.<br />
He can fix up any drink for you,<br />
based on the mood of your life.<br />
Sorrow, Happiness, Disappointment,<br />
Distress, any emotion you need.<br />
But the strongest of them all is LOVE.<br />
It is a great drink if you are <br />
destined to hold it in.<br />
Otherwise, it's just ecstasy going into yor life<br />
and an unbearable hangover afterwards.</span></span>
</p>Friends2009-02-08T11:54:14Zveni_tamirisaAt the mercy of my own thoughts
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=3416&blogId=307
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<span style="font-size: small; font-family: Calibri"><strong>“This is not how I thought it would be”. </strong></span>
</p>
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<span style="font-size: small; font-family: Calibri">I have said this to myself so many times in my life. Now I wonder, if I ever knew how it would be. You always think you know. But you never do. Someone up there makes sure that you never do. It might seem like all our fates are written in a simple language easy to decipher. It just looks simple. The fate of each one of us is so intertwined with so many others’s life. And I have lost track of where mine stands right now. I always thought I would do something else, especially other than what I am doing right now. And I recently realized that I always think this way. All the time. I don’t know if it’s because I am never content. Maybe that’s how my mind works. It’s not that I keep looking for something greater in life; it’s just that what I have always goes wrong. And then I begin to think if this was what I wanted in the first place.</span>
</p>Friends2009-01-21T08:55:01Zveni_tamirisa