<?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-35051175</id><updated>2012-01-31T21:17:58.287-08:00</updated><category term='fundraiser'/><category term='music'/><category term='Bowling for Dharavi'/><category term='plea'/><category term='donation'/><category term='inspiration'/><category term='charity'/><category term='help'/><title type='text'>poetic illusions</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</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>83</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-5921191975876452943</id><published>2011-10-28T20:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-28T20:52:37.977-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Right I have decided to give up on the diet. To be very honest I did not feel pangs of hunger or anything of that sort. But you do feel light headed and also the low energy levels are a killer. It is difficult when you have to have high energy levels through the day. So I decided to modify it. Club the GM diet with the&amp;nbsp;Israeli&amp;nbsp;army diet lets see how it goes.&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/35051175-5921191975876452943?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/5921191975876452943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=5921191975876452943&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/5921191975876452943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/5921191975876452943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-2.html' title='Day 2'/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-6271263072837132187</id><published>2011-10-27T21:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-27T21:35:56.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Right so today is day 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The diet says I am supposed to eat only fruits so off I went to the supermarket and bought I bunch of fruits thinking about it I feel I bought a little too many anyways. I had 2 apples and one pear for breakfast and a mug of earl gray without milk of course. So lets see how the day goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have musk&amp;nbsp;melon&amp;nbsp;for lunch today :P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-6271263072837132187?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/6271263072837132187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=6271263072837132187&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/6271263072837132187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/6271263072837132187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-1.html' title='Day 1'/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-5335006533188667259</id><published>2011-10-26T22:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-26T22:51:52.502-07:00</updated><title type='text'>GM Diet</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Right so&amp;nbsp;tomorrow&amp;nbsp;I start the fabled GM diet. I have decided that at the start of each day of the diet I will write about it. To be honest I don't know which is tougher the dieting part or the writing part.&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/35051175-5335006533188667259?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/5335006533188667259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=5335006533188667259&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/5335006533188667259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/5335006533188667259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/10/gm-diet.html' title='GM Diet'/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-2392190060026829068</id><published>2011-06-27T21:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-27T21:43:04.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't look at the scoreboard</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;At work, how many of us look forward to the scoreboard. I bet a lot of people do. I used to do the same thing. This was to ensure that I get some extra money. But then I started working in a hospital and although the same thing is often practiced in the "professional" hospitals around the world, I honestly believe we have lost the ethos somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ethos of serving human beings who happen to have an illness seems to be lost somewhere. But that is not all Education has become scoreboard oriented. Where the intellect of a student depends on how many marks he / she scores and not on what they have learnt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we look for a job it is always about how heavy my resume is which college did you study, it is never about your ethos. This goes for all fields. Yep even I am guilty of this sin. It is not cardinal but I have looked at people from the top colleges as having a slight edge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is as a society that looks up at only scoreboards the statement by coach Wooden speaks a truth that many of us wish was true.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-2392190060026829068?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/2392190060026829068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=2392190060026829068&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/2392190060026829068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/2392190060026829068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/06/dont-look-at-scoreboard.html' title='Don&apos;t look at the scoreboard'/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-8058602828858247534</id><published>2011-06-24T22:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-24T22:00:03.154-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I need a remedy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Football and transfer rumors are&amp;nbsp;quintessential&amp;nbsp;to Summer in England. With the local Pub man becoming the expert on the happenings in your local football club. But the transfer is more than money it is more than ambition it belongs only to the marquee stars like in a Broadway show. The smaller fry are usually left out of the rumors. By the time the transfer season is over the majority of the transfers will be low key players changing hands between clubs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much like other fields of enterprise where the normal person is thought of my family and friends. I understand and appreciate talent, but have we gone to far with it. I mean we have talent shows on all TV channels with a wide spectrum of people participating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have even brought this quest for talent into education. Yes it is competitive but that does not mean you throw a young child in a coaching class and then another and make their life revolve around classes and entrance exams. It does not mean that you send them to so called coaching class heavens and make them learn by rote subjects that need to understood. I asked one such child what was his&amp;nbsp;favorite&amp;nbsp;subject and without thinking he said Physics. I asked him what in Physics did he like and his answer was the mathematical problems because he knows all the formulas by heart. Have you really learnt physics then? Have you really learnt why the we have those formulas? Have you really learnt where they can be applied and how we can see them in action in everyday life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We blame the system. We blame the competition. We blame the colleges. But we are to blame. We are the ones who think the world will only be better if children only study.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you let your child develop today?&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/35051175-8058602828858247534?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/8058602828858247534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=8058602828858247534&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/8058602828858247534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/8058602828858247534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-need-remedy.html' title='I need a remedy'/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-9124763477349510413</id><published>2011-06-15T23:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-15T23:34:39.517-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream, Defy and Destiny</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;One of artistically inclined friend once asked me from a small but indicative symbol that he could&amp;nbsp;graffiti&amp;nbsp;on walls. And I came up with 3 D. Well the D's stood for Dream, Defy and Destiny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the years rolled by I started believing in these 3 words resolutely. I believe in dreams, a life without dreams is a little too simplistic according to me. My dreams do not follow convention I often think differently from others at times maybe because I grew up with a lot of times to think and I utilized it a lot. Defy convention, defy norms that make no sense and do the right thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always maintained that there is nothing called destiny. We make our own and we should dream and defy norms to achieve are dream to make our own destiny&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/35051175-9124763477349510413?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/9124763477349510413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=9124763477349510413&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/9124763477349510413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/9124763477349510413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/06/dream-defy-and-destiny.html' title='Dream, Defy and Destiny'/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-4839067666331837830</id><published>2011-06-13T21:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T21:06:58.772-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Say no to politics</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Well I have blogged about politics and I don't think it is a good enough topic to talk about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The change is in you is what I believe. We need to change to even expect change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a young man who was fresh out of medical college. This was pre-independence this was a time when being a doctor and more specifically a surgeon would get you out of India pretty fast but he decided to leave the cultured big city and travel to the hinterlands. He worked for years in only serving the people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He did go to Scotland but only for a short period of time that too to learn so that he could provide better medical services to his patients. He did all that a man could to help improve the hospital in this barren neglected land. He succeeded in saving lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't die a rich man but he died a great man, A man for whom the whole town cried and mourned. A man who set the standard for others to be judged by. Who will not be put in the history books but who deserves a place in the history of society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all may not go into the history books but what have we done to ask for change. A lot of us don't even pay taxes properly. A lot of us would rather pay the traffic cop a bribe than pay the fine and not repeat the mistake. We look for loopholes and then we expect change. When we have not done anything to deserve it what right do we have to demand it?&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/35051175-4839067666331837830?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/4839067666331837830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=4839067666331837830&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/4839067666331837830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/4839067666331837830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/06/say-no-to-politics.html' title='Say no to politics'/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-6937080775673911564</id><published>2011-06-09T00:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-09T00:57:46.592-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Let me be free&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Let me live&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I want to breathe&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I don't want you to tell me how to live&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I have played your game for too long&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I don't want to be bogged down&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Let me walk my own path&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7uwqNcGmKPw/TfB7ryaVsVI/AAAAAAAAAC0/LMlpE54Jdsw/s1600/4493687268_67ab2fb13f_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="133" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7uwqNcGmKPw/TfB7ryaVsVI/AAAAAAAAAC0/LMlpE54Jdsw/s200/4493687268_67ab2fb13f_m.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Let me do my thing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;let me follow my heart&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;and let me live within&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Too many choices have been made my others&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I want to make this one alone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I want to listen to the wind&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;and dance with the seas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Give me freedom not land not money&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Give me equality&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Let me live let me breathe&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/35051175-6937080775673911564?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/6937080775673911564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=6937080775673911564&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/6937080775673911564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/6937080775673911564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/06/let-me-be-free-let-me-live-i-want-to.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7uwqNcGmKPw/TfB7ryaVsVI/AAAAAAAAAC0/LMlpE54Jdsw/s72-c/4493687268_67ab2fb13f_m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-897552636686106796</id><published>2011-06-09T00:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-09T00:48:27.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Stay Calm and Carry On&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched RocknRolla for the nth time yesterday (Yes I have a thing for Brit gangster flicks). But it was brilliant to hear the Johnny Quid bamboozler on the packet of Virginia Smokies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This whole Baba thing was anyways a little too much for me to handle. We cannot have a parallel government and NO fasting for a few days is not going to suddenly make us less corrupt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are not doing anything about it but we want the government to act. Have you stopped giving a bribe to the traffic constable that stops you. Have you stopped having a beer and driving on the road. Have you suddenly stopped giving "corporate gifts" and "power lunchs" to clients who you want a contract from?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once you stop this and we are still corrupt go and overthrow the god damn government for all I care, but till then stop being wussy&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/35051175-897552636686106796?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/897552636686106796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=897552636686106796&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/897552636686106796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/897552636686106796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/06/stay-calm-and-carry-on-i-watched.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-191194922904701043</id><published>2011-05-26T02:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T02:24:36.309-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bowling for Dharavi'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Bowling for Dharavi&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few days back as I flipped through TV channels I merely chanced upon Bowling for Columbine. I find it a rather brilliant and thought-provoking story. Imagine if there was no arm control in India. It is difficult to know what would have happened but the results would definitely been absurd.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This got me thinking about something else, we need monitoring. We have a law against child labor. But walk around any slum not just Dharavi and you will see children working. We have NGO's trying their best to stop the rot but it is not going to change until 'WE' stop.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I recently decided to stop going to a shop because he had a small boy doing the work and I made it a point to tell him too. There are thousands of small and big establishments in our country that are no different. Bombay according to me is also the land of chai tapris. How many of these do you know that where there is no chotu working? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But lets be real. There are a number of children who are doing this for money. Yes the government is feeding them to go to school but have you eaten what they serve? These kids need to be taught a trade not history. Those who want to become scientists and engineers should obviously be taught and nobody should be denied an opportunity but helping them learn a trade and setting up someway in which they can monetize that trade opportunity is more important.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is what I feel. Your turn champ!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-191194922904701043?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/191194922904701043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=191194922904701043&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/191194922904701043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/191194922904701043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/05/bowling-for-dharavi-few-days-back-as-i.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-965085288949836804</id><published>2011-05-01T22:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T22:57:41.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Souffle&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"&gt;This is not a recipe this is a story that revolves around the mentioned savory.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"&gt;Growing up in a small town and always surrounded by doctors dinner parties were a norm. The usual thing was everyone would get one dish and dinner was usually followed by a old fashioned game of scrabble or a few rounds of pictionary.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"&gt;In this whole group of people there was one gem of a person who was extremely clever and brilliant in her work and good bless her soul an amazing human being but she would always decide to make the dessert which would invariably be souffle which passeth all understanding. But it developed something in me the curiosity and love for food that is not necessarily Indian. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"&gt;Many years later I went to the US as an exchange student and only real reason I was happy there and was able to adapt was the food. I loved the smell of cheese burgers and the sizzle of a steak on the grill it helped me bond with people helped me in making friends this thing continued in the UK but was oriented a lot to non-curry food. The chips-cheese-beans still make me feel like opening a kebab van. The whole reason people feel not at home is food according to me. The global village that we live in today has made it possible to get the popular food anywhere in the world but it is just not the same. I mean fish and chips looking out of window in Pune and seeing other buildings is not the same as fish and chips looking out of a window in Portsmouth and watching the huge ships go by.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&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/35051175-965085288949836804?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/965085288949836804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=965085288949836804&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/965085288949836804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/965085288949836804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/05/souffle-this-is-not-recipe-this-is.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-7247880206774496063</id><published>2011-04-20T01:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T01:13:16.918-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>New day, innit?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That word first it drove me mad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;then it made me feel understood and now it makes me miss the things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes it was a decision that I made that I did not want to work in "innit" but I do miss some things. I definitely pine for nightingale road. Me house on the commons. The walks along the Pompey fort walk where on one side is the sea and the other side is the fort. Brilliant I say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well that and the assortment of things we used to do as the E-7 Massive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My journey to the UK needs to be credited to someone else though not me. Thank you. I would never have experienced the splendor of oxford from the eyes of a non-tourist. I would not have walked along river watching the rowers. Well these places would not have been haunting memories if it were not for the company. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pompey I can sing an ode to. I can compose ballads for thee. Me house was exactly what I wanted and still want. The pub around the corner where you know the owner and pop by to have a word on your evening job. The sandwich shop run by the two French girls who tried teaching me French. The flat-mates from different countries.  All beautiful and alluring but I still felt "Do I Belong?" same as I do now. Are my ideals very different from others? Is the way I think a little too radical?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I may not know the answer today. But I know I have had a good life so far and met some amazing people along the way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-7247880206774496063?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/7247880206774496063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=7247880206774496063&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/7247880206774496063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/7247880206774496063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/04/new-day-innit-that-word-first-it-drove.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-5797306727874910592</id><published>2011-04-18T21:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T21:55:35.334-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 30px; letter-spacing: -1px; "&gt;First docs removed 226 uteruses, now go on strike&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 30px; letter-spacing: -1px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="letter-spacing: -1px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;R&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;ight, this would not be a big deal for many but since I belong to a family of doctors it is obviously painful to see something like this. A few doctors cause so much negativity that all doctors are suddenly under the scanner even if they are doing things that a normal man would not do. Even if they are sacrificing themselves for the greater good. Because we will never highlight the good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-5797306727874910592?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/5797306727874910592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=5797306727874910592&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/5797306727874910592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/5797306727874910592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/04/first-docs-removed-226-uteruses-now-go.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-7080910007678743003</id><published>2011-04-11T20:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-11T20:51:57.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The India I want to live in...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a dream that one day there will be school in each village, a day when healthcare will be provided to each and every citizen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a dream that one day the roads will be clean and no filth everywhere. I have a dream that one day children will be given options. A day when religion will not be the calling card for people where it will not matter which state or region you are from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day when every normal citizen will not pay the traffic police to get away where we will not pay to get into school where we will not forge certificates and degrees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a dream that one day each child in this country will be allowed to follow her / his dream. Where they will not be frowned upon for the choices they make. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a dream that one day my country will rise from the past and live for future where the farmers will be given their due. The true leaders honored and the petty issues resolved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a dream that one day we will be one again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: Cycling to work gives me time to think&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-7080910007678743003?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/7080910007678743003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=7080910007678743003&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/7080910007678743003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/7080910007678743003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/04/india-i-want-to-live-in.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-9067781587835354975</id><published>2011-03-29T20:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-29T20:35:37.143-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Did anyone see NZ lose yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes they lost. Yes they seemed outplayed but they never gave up which is more important. A team which was whitewashed by India and Sri-Lanka and also for crying out loud Bangladesh reached the semi-finals of the world cup that is story of motivation a story of strength of will. Yes if it were a movie they would have won the cup and what not. But this is reality and they run as much as they could but they did it with the Maori spirit hats off to them and their performance. Well done Kiwis.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-9067781587835354975?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/9067781587835354975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=9067781587835354975&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/9067781587835354975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/9067781587835354975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/03/did-anyone-see-nz-lose-yesterday.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-1628300881183119679</id><published>2011-03-29T01:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-29T01:24:10.605-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The idiot box will show it's true power tomorrow when the India Vs Pakistan cricket match is on. Much like the days of Ramayana on DD when the roads used to be empty, the shops closed and the masses stuck to the TV screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the days of yore when children discussed the last episode of Chandrakanta and I looked on like an amused buffoon because I never saw it and when I did try it was too imbecilic to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole commotion around the match is quite unnerving. I mean one team will lose no matter what even if they play their heart out. What then, there will be group of  nincompoops who will call for the heads of the players does not matter which side of the border I am referring to both the sides are the same. There will be huge stories on conspiracy and someone will become the scapegoat. All thanks to the team you say? No all thanks to the idiot box which has given us the freedom to do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh then don't watch it you say? I am not against it I am in awe of it the influence that it has on our lives. It does not matter if it is sports, politics, social life, etc it influences us all. Amazingly it is called idiot box.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-1628300881183119679?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/1628300881183119679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=1628300881183119679&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/1628300881183119679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/1628300881183119679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/03/idiot-box-will-show-its-true-power.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-7381068217007381330</id><published>2011-03-27T20:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-27T20:44:06.275-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sunday: The day of relaxation? Unwinding? Hanging out? Pursuing your hobby? or just contemplating?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I did not do anything and it was boring. But I did contemplate on a wide array of things and it felt nice. In the hustle bustle of daily life we forget to think about us. Sometimes it is nice to take a step back cook a nice meal and think about what has happened in the last few weeks how life seems to have changed has anything gone wrong.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-7381068217007381330?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/7381068217007381330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=7381068217007381330&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/7381068217007381330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/7381068217007381330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/03/sunday-day-of-relaxation-unwinding.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-6054039391061268002</id><published>2011-03-24T20:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-24T20:42:11.434-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>How much of influence does media have on a court's judgement?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the media is convinced that someone is guilty they do have the tools to make people believe them. What would happen if a person is charged with something that they have not done and the media portrays him as guilty with the general consensus being the same the court would then have to play the tough part of being impartial listening to all the arguments and making an informed decision. But the person has been pronounced guilty by the media what happens to them then? Can what has been said be taken back? It could be undone in other manners but I doubt it is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-6054039391061268002?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/6054039391061268002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=6054039391061268002&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/6054039391061268002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/6054039391061268002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/03/how-much-of-influence-does-media-have.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-2183678605373788701</id><published>2011-03-18T20:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-18T20:45:32.848-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>What is happening?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are protests and deaths in the middle east,&lt;br /&gt;And we choose to concentrate more on cricket.&lt;br /&gt;There are nuclear crisis looming in close vicinity&lt;br /&gt;there are earthquakes and tsunamis showing the force of nature&lt;br /&gt;And we focus on How bright the moon is going to be and the superstitions associated with it.&lt;br /&gt;There are pirates who are minors and in international waters&lt;br /&gt;and we see that some actress will not dance with some hero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it time to think of Media differently?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes we do have 24 hours News channels and they carry many things that seem important but they have become less logical. One of the headlines this morning was Clinton asked for information regarding the Indian economic policy makers. Does that mean they were influenced? That is what the news channels say. I am not a supporter of any political party but I am a proponent of good governance. This is a stupid debate seeking information about someone does not mean you are doing so to influence them there can be other possibilities why not focus on things where the media's help is needed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are we not showing the plight of the people in rural areas who do not have medical care, schools, simple infrastructure. India is a country of villages and we focus on not focusing on them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-2183678605373788701?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/2183678605373788701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=2183678605373788701&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/2183678605373788701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/2183678605373788701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/03/what-is-happening-there-are-protests.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-3100789670270108176</id><published>2011-03-11T20:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T20:25:24.583-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Never try to be better than someone else&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John Wooden says it in a talk on TED. Inspiring and thought provoking. Be the best you can be through the means you have and you will be successful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of people will walk away from something like this for the simple reason that we want to grow bigger than our neighbor. I have a friend who will always talk about his salary and how it is higher than the rest of the people from his class or his circle of friends but does that make him a success. In the eyes of society which has become very materialistic maybe. But there is always a guy / girl who is earning more so he is only going to be top dog till someone else comes along and we go out to get him / her out of the 1st spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me as a trainer and as an HR professional success is touching people and making a difference. It is also implementing practices that make the organisation capable of facing any storm and making the future bright. It is also making the experience that my customers have a beautiful one. May be I am wrong but May be I am not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-3100789670270108176?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/3100789670270108176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=3100789670270108176&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/3100789670270108176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/3100789670270108176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/03/never-try-to-be-better-than-someone.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-3549993994036349917</id><published>2011-03-11T02:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T02:27:07.453-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>People do not realize their true potential until they are shown what they can achieve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been interacting with doctors lately and have realized that they need to be reminded at times about their importance. About how important a part of society they really are. Its interesting when you think about it because growing up around doctors I never really realized it but when I have a look from outside I feel they need to be motivated too. Gone are the days when work alone was enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-3549993994036349917?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/3549993994036349917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=3549993994036349917&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/3549993994036349917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/3549993994036349917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/03/people-do-not-realize-their-true.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-1390360681634305915</id><published>2011-03-07T21:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-07T21:53:00.554-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Happy Womens day :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is obviously a good day to talk about how Women have influenced my life. The two most important women who have played a major role in my life are my Grandmother and my mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Grandma was a double PhD one in English and one in Sanskrit in an age when women did not work she was the head of two departments. she used to drive a car and did so much even for the community. She passed away due to cancer when I was still young but she taught me a lot her hands were there to guide me as a child. I never understood what was wrong with her because I was too young to understand, but I thank her everyday for who she was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Mother what can I say about her. I always wonder how she has so much energy after working all day. A doctor par excellence and an amazing human being. She has always been my comfort cushion. I have grown up to realize that nobody can come close to my mother's greatness. She is the epitome of calm and the saint of compassion. She has changed a community one at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I look the strong women in my life I feel it is wrong to thank them and appreciate them only one day in the year. Everyday they deserve to be appreciated and told how much you love them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-1390360681634305915?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/1390360681634305915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=1390360681634305915&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/1390360681634305915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/1390360681634305915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/03/happy-womens-day-it-is-obviously-good.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-8809539064950426082</id><published>2011-03-02T21:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T21:11:33.049-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It was quite interesting to see perceptions that people have. Gettinh thru security at pune airport and not being in my formals was a eye opener people look at you different we have different tones very damn interesting to me&lt;br /&gt;I got on a bus in b town and there was a french family next to me very nice a huge change from the sterotype lol... But the way they felt deceived by the bus operator for promising that the bus would leave in 5 mins and not leaving for 15 made me realize that what we take as a given should not be an international perception none the less but a thought we should spare...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-8809539064950426082?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/8809539064950426082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=8809539064950426082&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/8809539064950426082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/8809539064950426082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/03/it-was-quite-interesting-to-see.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-4955330135807540530</id><published>2011-01-22T03:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-22T03:26:35.309-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Have you every had the urge to take a step back and take a look at things from the past and think to yourself WHY?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There have a few developments since I last wrote one of the biggest ones is a new location. Not home as yet I really don't know how I can call any place other than Bombay home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-4955330135807540530?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/4955330135807540530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=4955330135807540530&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/4955330135807540530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/4955330135807540530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2011/01/have-you-every-had-urge-to-take-step.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-2374035741501600153</id><published>2010-12-20T20:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T20:41:03.479-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was watching the news today and I read something that has hit a nerve...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onion prices in cities all over India have gone up and the BJP spokeperson made a comment to the effect of is the government going to tell us global onion prices have increased and in a different comment onion prices are a classic case of inflation going up and not really decreasing as was reported earlier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not a congress supporter infact I am believer of a good governance implies little governance....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But these statements got me thinking. If a senior politician can say this obviously the common man is going to say the same thing. Teach economics to the general population came the reply... but economics is filled with numbers people may not like it... I have always saud I would want to make a difference and this is the first time something has made enough sense to start...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inflation and the price of onions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is inflation exactly? How does this index come about? And can the price of a particular commodity be controlled by the government in a free market?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In simple terms the rate at which the general level of prices for goods and services is rising, and, subsequently, purchasing power is falling is called as inflation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The formula for calculating the Inflation Rate using the Consumer Price Index is relatively simple. Every month the Bureau surveys prices and generates the current Consumer Price Index (CPI).  Let us assume for the sake of simplicity that the index consists of one item and that one item cost 1.00 in 2010. The Bureau published the index in 2010 at 100. If today that same item costs 1.85 the index would stand at 185.0. This would imply that the price has gone up. Generally the CPI basket comprises of a number of goods that are essential for the people. If the price of a majority of these goods increases we say that there is inflation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we come to the bone of contention the Price of Onions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How much do you think it costs to grow one Kilo of Onions. Well there is the price of land, water, electricity, seeds, the upkeep of the machinery, the cost of the farmer, petrol, and then the opportunity cost which cannot be calculated. In India the monsoon season also plays a huge role in determining the cost of onions. For the sake of this argument we shall not consider the impact of the rains. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, petrol prices are in every turmoil which makes it expensive for the farmer to plough his land with a tractor, but using cattle is not as efficient. So the cost to produce has gone up a little. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Land is not something that we have in abundance. The number of people to the land under cultivation is low. This means that the farmer needs to produce more onions than every before from the same piece of land. But the land will become infertile if it is over cultivated so he might buy fertilizers and pesticides which all cost money. He might instead go and get better land which will cost him and again the price increases. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the onions are ready to send to the market. Well petrol will be there so will transportation. The middle men are a different story and we shall eliminate them for the sake of argument right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well the onion has reached the market place and we have not put in the price increase for the sake of the farmer and his family. After increasing the price for a good profit margin we can sell it in a market that is free. Which implies that if the demand for my product grows and the supply is limited the price of my product will increase. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Economics is amazing. In very simple terms we are able to link the prices of goods and the external non-financial environment to the price of one commodity. Can it be controlled? Well yes it can be but not completely eliminated. In fact there should be a small amount of inflation in any economy but more on that in another rant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-2374035741501600153?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/2374035741501600153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=2374035741501600153&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/2374035741501600153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/2374035741501600153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/12/i-was-watching-news-today-and-i-read.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-495579502739198112</id><published>2010-11-10T20:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-10T20:55:37.982-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have started using twitter more often and there are a lot of interesting people who tweet. I wondered for long why would people update what they are doing or what they are thinking about... Will it not get boring and who will really want to read that stuff... well to be honest just like facebook twitter is addictive to a certain extent. I am cool is what everyone would like to project at least that's what I feel... Plus it is kind of nice to know that some people who you think of as role models are quite human and have likes and dislikes sometimes similar to our own... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I somehow could not make myself follow a actor / actress I felt they were very different from me... Also an interesting thing that I learnt is that journals keep updating their twitter page with links to articles which is very beneficial if you like keeping yourself updated...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-495579502739198112?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/495579502739198112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=495579502739198112&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/495579502739198112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/495579502739198112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-have-started-using-twitter-more-often.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-286177358754596572</id><published>2010-10-27T02:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-27T02:59:27.465-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have officially crossed 60 posts :P, which is a huge thing for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I was generally looking at random things on the Internet and saw a site where you can list 100 things that make you happy - other than money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My initial reaction was how hard can it be but then you reach a limit and go what else makes me happy it is kind of weird but then there are so many small seemingly insignificant things in life that also bring a smile to your face. Like a leaves rustling in the wind, a feather floating away with the wind... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was small I used to be happy riding my bike all around my house I used to feel cool. There were no worries just pure happiness. When I jumped into a pool I felt that sensation as though I water just going with the flow unadulterated joy and bliss. It seems soooo long ago...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, What are your 100 things?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-286177358754596572?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/286177358754596572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=286177358754596572&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/286177358754596572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/286177358754596572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-have-officially-crossed-60-posts-p.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-7006492412601010607</id><published>2010-10-24T21:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T21:46:10.558-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>los mexicanos de indio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now before I start I want to make it very clear that this is not a racist post; however, if it does offend anyone I am very sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, Mexican people in the US are harworking individuals who cross the border to make a decent living often sacrificing a lot to ensure that their children grow up to be better than them. Look at any posh resto in the big cities in the US and a majority of the behind the curtain staff is mexican working for little but putting in tons of hours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I noticed a similar trend in the UK where Polish people did a lot of construction work. They slogged it out to make a decent living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A commonality in both these groups is that they try and save whenever possible. They save and send it to family they save and keep it for a rainy day. This is amazing to me. The human nature is such that they should be want luxury. But these amazing people curb that want for a future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been wondering who can we call the mexicans of india?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-7006492412601010607?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/7006492412601010607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=7006492412601010607&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/7006492412601010607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/7006492412601010607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/10/los-mexicanos-de-indio-now-before-i.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-1605949936562272933</id><published>2010-10-17T21:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-17T21:43:01.724-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There are thoughts in my head which nobody may know&lt;br /&gt;there are voices in my heart that nobody can hear &lt;br /&gt;they will explode one day into ideas&lt;br /&gt;they will be justified one day&lt;br /&gt;they will not have to be silent anymore&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-1605949936562272933?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/1605949936562272933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=1605949936562272933&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/1605949936562272933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/1605949936562272933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/10/there-are-thoughts-in-my-head-which.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-5916049533848326370</id><published>2010-10-13T20:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-13T20:59:50.945-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>In the making...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stood still&lt;br /&gt;watched with unbiased eyes as the wind swept seas danced&lt;br /&gt;so did his mind&lt;br /&gt;with thoughts of the future with no recollection of the past but with the will to do something in the present&lt;br /&gt;where had he changed he was asked he did not know &lt;br /&gt;to him it was a way of life &lt;br /&gt;he stood still now watching the skies &lt;br /&gt;the bright blue with some white was a symphony to him&lt;br /&gt;he wanted them to tell him their tales &lt;br /&gt;tales from far and wide he wanted to learn more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wind played with the trees in the distance making its presence felt&lt;br /&gt;like a jealous lover it wanted his attention&lt;br /&gt;but he stood still and watched the courtship&lt;br /&gt;after all he was a storm in the making.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-5916049533848326370?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/5916049533848326370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=5916049533848326370&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/5916049533848326370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/5916049533848326370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/10/in-making.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-2233473722426708527</id><published>2010-10-07T21:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T21:57:46.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The early hours of morning are amazing they are serene and let me think. The calm has an amazing effect on the mind I think everyone should try it. I was thinking to myself with a cup of tea (or in my case a glass of tea) what would I change if i could and the answer was plain and simple. The way we educate our young. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never had a coach for swimming but I managed to reach states 9 times. When I did get a coach for one year I was able to shave off 53 seconds from my time, which says a lot. I never had any one teach me tennis but I am decent enough. I was never told what is my apptitude and what I would do well in. But this is the reality in a number of small and medium towns in India. This is what I really want to change.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-2233473722426708527?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/2233473722426708527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=2233473722426708527&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/2233473722426708527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/2233473722426708527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/10/early-hours-of-morning-are-amazing-they.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-4232430210585184096</id><published>2010-10-03T23:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-03T23:30:24.606-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Every since I can remeber I want to do more. I always wanted to work as a consultant well the general idea would be ok so apply to consulting firms they will hire you. One huge problem I read their websites and they say we want people with passion we want curious people we want people who are ready to learn. All of which I am then they say he/she should have more than x number of years of experience now I do have experience but not what they ask for and at times not in the field that they ask for. I do not have a MBA from the primeir institutes in India but I dont think that I am any less than someone who has graduated from them. What they learnt in class I learnt by myself. Well life sometimes throws you lemons but that just means you make lemon juice. So I keep fighting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-4232430210585184096?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/4232430210585184096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=4232430210585184096&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/4232430210585184096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/4232430210585184096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/10/every-since-i-can-remeber-i-want-to-do.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-1279402479829007809</id><published>2010-09-29T22:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-29T22:27:54.522-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There was once a drive a passion to do something different to not conform to be the rebel...somehow that seems to be lost there is still a drive but it is not as passionate there is still a tendency to say "hell no" but it is often not said... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a time when it did not matter what people thought, they didnt know me. They still dont know me but I have to think about what they think... my nature seems to change with each step I take maybe it is time to reclaim what I have lost maybe it is time to jump of the cliff and do exactly what I always wanted to do...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-1279402479829007809?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/1279402479829007809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=1279402479829007809&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/1279402479829007809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/1279402479829007809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/09/there-was-once-drive-passion-to-do.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-4236386970441134189</id><published>2010-09-20T00:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T00:37:49.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Life is filled with twists and turns...some are so beautiful to need to stop and take a deep breath and others hit you so hard that they knock the wind out of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somedays i feel miserable... as though i dont know what I am doing. It feels as if i dont have a future. other days things around me make me feel inspired. whatever be the case life is not worth stopping and not trying to do better. I guess i have realised that, so i toast to a better tommorow and live today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-4236386970441134189?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/4236386970441134189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=4236386970441134189&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/4236386970441134189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/4236386970441134189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/09/life-is-filled-with-twists-and-turns.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-3876565121157134718</id><published>2010-09-14T02:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T02:44:58.337-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>If you can keep your head when all about you&lt;br /&gt;Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;&lt;br /&gt;If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,&lt;br /&gt;But make allowance for their doubting too:&lt;br /&gt;If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,&lt;br /&gt;Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,&lt;br /&gt;Or being hated don't give way to hating,&lt;br /&gt;And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you can dream---and not make dreams your master;&lt;br /&gt;If you can think---and not make thoughts your aim,&lt;br /&gt;If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster&lt;br /&gt;And treat those two impostors just the same:.&lt;br /&gt;If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken&lt;br /&gt;Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,&lt;br /&gt;Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,&lt;br /&gt;And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you can make one heap of all your winnings&lt;br /&gt;And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,&lt;br /&gt;And lose, and start again at your beginnings,&lt;br /&gt;And never breathe a word about your loss:&lt;br /&gt;If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew&lt;br /&gt;To serve your turn long after they are gone,&lt;br /&gt;And so hold on when there is nothing in you&lt;br /&gt;Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,&lt;br /&gt;Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch,&lt;br /&gt;If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,&lt;br /&gt;If all men count with you, but none too much:&lt;br /&gt;If you can fill the unforgiving minute&lt;br /&gt;With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,&lt;br /&gt;Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,&lt;br /&gt;And---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-3876565121157134718?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/3876565121157134718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=3876565121157134718&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/3876565121157134718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/3876565121157134718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/09/if-you-can-keep-your-head-when-all.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-6798612627322407761</id><published>2010-09-06T02:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T02:05:42.788-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I often think to myself what am I doing. What do I want to do. Who is with me. Well most of these questions have hazy answers. Sometimes I am able to think straight. There were times in my life when i wanted nothing more then being at a certain place and I would do anything to be there but over the years I relised at times we tend to add complexities to a very simple situation. We tend to overcomplicate a simple thing atleast I do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-6798612627322407761?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/6798612627322407761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=6798612627322407761&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/6798612627322407761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/6798612627322407761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-often-think-to-myself-what-am-i-doing.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-5515376062147713401</id><published>2010-08-21T00:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T00:25:05.535-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I wonder where will I land up 5 years from now. Where will I be what will I be doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was travelling by local recently and it was amazing to look around and see the people who travel by trains in Bombay. I thought to myself maybe I dont want to travel like this my entire life. But then being a traveller and a road warrior has become a part and parcel of life. It has become important to take on different roles and grow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont think I have seen it all. I have tons of mountains to climb but I know now that you have to do it yourself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-5515376062147713401?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/5515376062147713401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=5515376062147713401&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/5515376062147713401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/5515376062147713401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-wonder-where-will-i-land-up-5-years.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-6593597378429783498</id><published>2010-02-26T20:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T20:42:57.918-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The politics of agitation.&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking when was the last time a government in India passed a bill or made a resolution that was approved without opposition. Yesterday after the budget opposition members staged a walk out against the rise in petrol prices. I agree with people who say inflation has to be controlled. But my question is do you want the growth to be high? Do you want more FDI flowing into the country? If the answer is no then we can go back to pre 1990's when we basically destroyed our own economy. If the answer is yes then I think we have to draw the line somewhere and agree to some of the suggestions we should oppose otherwise democracy will be dead but not on all issues right now the political parties in India are like nagging partners who are mostly likely to find faults in everything and crib about them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-6593597378429783498?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/6593597378429783498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=6593597378429783498&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/6593597378429783498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/6593597378429783498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/02/politics-of-agitation.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-1946893088960730368</id><published>2010-02-25T02:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T02:51:42.739-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>One of my friends made a statement the other day. He said he is not normal. This got me thinking as to who is normal and how can someone adjudge someone as being normal. I listen to rock and I have no problems admitting that I hate some other forms of music this makes me normal in some eyes while it makes me a full blown weirdo in the eyes of others. I have inked my arms this is considered to be a fad by some to be a statement by some but to me its just an extension of myself so am I mad or may I normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought about this for a while and I feel the only normal people in this world are the abnormal ones maybe its to do with conformance maybe its to do with being a part of the herd those who stand out are the abnormal one. To be honest I would rather stand out and be abnormal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-1946893088960730368?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/1946893088960730368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=1946893088960730368&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/1946893088960730368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/1946893088960730368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/02/one-of-my-friends-made-statement-other.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-8459975815781687303</id><published>2010-02-23T01:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T01:22:21.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>When do we learn to say NO?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We rarely ever say no directly unless we are angry or frustrated. The thinking men and women ought to have the courage to say it as it is. But we don't. We have politicians who on one hand say that they are the protectors of our city and they are the same people who also tend to destroy it at the slightest controversy. We have internal and external enemies who are creating ruckus and we cant tell them no we have had enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We cant say no to our friends when we don't want to do something. We think of excuses to make them feel that we are busy or we are up to something. Why cant we say no and why cant others respect the no.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-8459975815781687303?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/8459975815781687303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=8459975815781687303&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/8459975815781687303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/8459975815781687303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/02/when-do-we-learn-to-say-no-we-rarely.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-6668471379104067286</id><published>2010-02-21T20:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T20:23:48.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The voice in my brain says don't the voice from somewhere else in me says do.&lt;br /&gt;There are things that I see and cant figure out. &lt;br /&gt;There are places I need to be but cant find a way to get to.&lt;br /&gt;There are people I want to meet but can't.&lt;br /&gt;There are ideas that I want to implement but don't know how.&lt;br /&gt;Through this sprinkling of dreams I live a life that sometimes seems surreal.&lt;br /&gt;Through the days and nights I have only more aspirations to fulfil.&lt;br /&gt;Life as I live it seems distant from life as I want it.&lt;br /&gt;The means to complete something sometimes seem so unreachable that I feel we live in a reality show.&lt;br /&gt;A show where we are forced to make choices but the result is sometimes immaterial of the choices.&lt;br /&gt;Till I solve my conundrums I bid adieu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-6668471379104067286?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/6668471379104067286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=6668471379104067286&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/6668471379104067286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/6668471379104067286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/02/voice-in-my-brain-says-dont-voice-from.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-7748505923845867465</id><published>2010-02-19T20:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T20:22:58.841-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Standing by my window I look at the sun kissed earth through a curtain of smoke,&lt;br /&gt;Admiring the beauty of what stands forth makes me think of other places I have been,&lt;br /&gt;It makes me want to see how it feels to see the same sight at different places,&lt;br /&gt;The earth in all its naked glory beckons all to come see her beauty as the sun wakes up and illuminates her being,&lt;br /&gt;The blue waves crash against the rocks as my smoke curtain grows thinner,&lt;br /&gt;Someday I will see a lot and that will make me smile just like she is smiling right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-7748505923845867465?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/7748505923845867465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=7748505923845867465&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/7748505923845867465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/7748505923845867465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/02/standing-by-my-window-i-look-at-sun.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-4452170345372815124</id><published>2010-02-18T20:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T20:22:01.833-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don't get our obsession with marriage I mean as a society. Marriage is an institution they say I highly doubt it like many other things people say. Marriage is an understanding of sorts I feel it is like a compromise that I will have to undertake the question is why should I not think about myself. TO grow your family name you need to get married and have kids too. This whole concept though makes a little sense has also led to female genocide. The number of girl children being aborted due to the want of having a boy is very alarming. So that argument also fails according to me. Now there is another argument that says you will have a companion for life. Well I don't need to marry for that do I? I can have a companion without getting married. Oh I am scandalising a lot of people with this comment but then I don't think it is wrong. This is not our culture you say. Well so are a lot of things which we reintroduced to make our society highly conservative and constricted.&lt;br /&gt;Not everyone needs to think like me I don't want to argue all I want is my voice be heard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-4452170345372815124?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/4452170345372815124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=4452170345372815124&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/4452170345372815124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/4452170345372815124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-dont-get-our-obsession-with-marriage.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-4012285366901234875</id><published>2010-02-17T22:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T22:13:45.991-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I see many amazing sights on my way to work or sometimes on my way back maybe I am too observant or maybe I have nothing better to do. But this is what I have started observing recently. The newer generation is not spoilt they have different tastes. &lt;br /&gt;Hip hop culture I think that's what it is called has taken over suburbia and its influence can be seen every where. When I was that age we had different influences. I feel nothing is wrong as long as you don't overdo it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-4012285366901234875?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/4012285366901234875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=4012285366901234875&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/4012285366901234875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/4012285366901234875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-see-many-amazing-sights-on-my-way-to.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-3279341416571687495</id><published>2010-02-16T20:21:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T20:26:47.691-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A recent murder of a high profile lawyer is quite unnerving. One of the suspects is a techie who works in mumbai. Even in some of the heinous crimes the culprits are educated working professionals. I often wonder why an educated person would succumb to such ideologies.&lt;br /&gt;Is it the world around them that they find to be cruel? Are they just doing it for money? It would be interesting if some physiologist actually studies this or maybe they have and I have not looked hard enough&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-3279341416571687495?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/3279341416571687495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=3279341416571687495&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/3279341416571687495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/3279341416571687495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/02/recent-murder-of-high-profile-lawyer-is.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-6157695495225810786</id><published>2010-02-15T20:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T20:28:45.560-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Incredible India... My last post was about regionalism and it seems like our diversity is rotting. The recent bomb blasts in Pune does not seem to have an impact on people in AP. Amazing, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a problem with broadsheets in Mumbai dedicating their front page to Adverts from various organisations mainly builders though. How can you have the front page of the newspaper given to a builder or for that matter any other organisation or group. The front page to me is a sacred page where the most prominent events are highlighted. It could be argued that they do this for the extra income that is so badly required in the print media specially since the advent of 24 hour news channels but why compromise on the first page?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have a television at home which means the first thing I do in the morning is read the newspaper only to go through 2-3 pages of pictures of buildings. I guess the print media is answering the question will we survive; but I feel it should be how we survive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-6157695495225810786?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/6157695495225810786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=6157695495225810786&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/6157695495225810786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/6157695495225810786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/02/incredible-india.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-5693351610915202583</id><published>2010-02-13T00:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T00:53:09.051-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Welcome to the new version of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have written about things that I found interesting in the past but have never really written about current issues. However, this time around I intend to be current.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets start with the regionalism that has taken India by storm. Ask a small child on the road where he/she is from and rarely will you get the answer that I am from India. A majority of people thing that their first loyalty lies with their state and in some cases their city. I will not declare that I am a staunch Indian and whatever we do I agree with it. Sometimes there are instances when what we do does not make sense. Like opening a dialogue with Pakistan. Well more on that subject later. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First I want to debate on this topic of regionalism. We have people asking for their own state we have people stating that a particular part of the country belongs to certain people. Do we realise that we are dividing the country into small parts based on religion, language and customs. India boasts that we have unity in diversity at least that is what I was taught in school but I do not see any unity I see personal agendas and regional bias killing our growth story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;India is set to take on the so called economic powers in the world and on the brink of possible greatness we decide we do not care where we can reach let us fight among ourselves and destroy the chances of getting investment. Truly a united front, isn't it? We could well be the biggest economy in time to come like the golden era of India but then it depends on what the people do next.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-5693351610915202583?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/5693351610915202583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=5693351610915202583&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/5693351610915202583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/5693351610915202583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2010/02/welcome-to-new-version-of-me.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-4212759828486591692</id><published>2009-09-08T07:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T07:30:34.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The most wonderful sight in the world is seeing bombay shimmering in lights as you fly over and the saddest sight is seeing those lights disappear. how i miss it sometimes, i wondered was it beacause of the people. was it because of the memories that i had there. well i guess its a mixture of both  if it wasnt for my friends i would never have liked it as much. if it wasnt for all the things i did there i wouldnt have anything to remeber it with. but the way the city looks bathed in light with cars snaking down its roads is a beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;some say that living in india after you have travelled the world is mad. well i guess i am mad then because i wouldnt want to live anywhere else&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-4212759828486591692?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/4212759828486591692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=4212759828486591692&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/4212759828486591692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/4212759828486591692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2009/09/most-wonderful-sight-in-world-is-seeing.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-5712796111448344422</id><published>2009-06-14T12:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T12:09:23.022-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sometimes it feels like life has come to a standstill&lt;br /&gt;The horizon seems bleak and it feels like im dragging a stone while walking through a desert&lt;br /&gt;Maybe its just the jabs I have taken &lt;br /&gt;even the mightiest fall after all&lt;br /&gt;Unless its the calm I feel before I start a storm&lt;br /&gt;The days seem endless at times &lt;br /&gt;the nights calm as a bomb&lt;br /&gt;the insomnia kicks in and then you just lay awake dreaming with your eyes wide open&lt;br /&gt;the night grows older but the eyes keep seeking something dont exactly know what&lt;br /&gt;the mind never seems to rest, constant thoughts are a vice at times&lt;br /&gt;If i can find definition i say to myself but then I have that&lt;br /&gt;Maybe a vision is what I need&lt;br /&gt;Maybe hope is what is missing&lt;br /&gt;Maybe its me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-5712796111448344422?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/5712796111448344422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=5712796111448344422&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/5712796111448344422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/5712796111448344422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2009/06/sometimes-it-feels-like-life-has-come.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-662419182638703673</id><published>2009-05-11T05:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T05:20:40.420-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspiration'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My new inspiration.... JORDAN SPARKS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes i know this coming from me will seem a bit odd.. but then i was listening to One step at a time and it made me think not a lot of songs make me think but this one did... it speaks volumes... maybe i should learn from the song and do what the song says take one step at a time... well it will help a lot thats for sure...instead of runnin like flash and then falling and failing i could jog or brisk walk :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for those unaware of this woman and her work &lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bAYmDNov6Q0&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My second inspiration MARTY McConnell..what a woman.. she speaks her mind and speaks volumes... she taught me to listen to the voice of my wild heart... and terror of the way im headed is a sure sign that heading in the right direction... one adjective may not be enough to describe her and her inspirational work... so i will let you see for your self&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bS3jfY3_AWw&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is one more inspiration who doesnt have a youtube video and who isnt talked about in the papers or online... unfortunately he aint alive, but he was a great man a man who spent his life trying to help society who got very little money in return sometimes met people who were ungrateful to him who left him thinking if he was doing any good but he continued his work... he made a small insignificant thing into a monument... single-handly he changed the face of medicine in his region... he did what was thought impossible... he was a person who was 3 steps ahead of his present and who never gave up on his beliefs...whenever i walk away from his grave it leaves me feeling hungry to do more in life... i hope that one day i will remebered like you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-662419182638703673?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/662419182638703673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=662419182638703673&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/662419182638703673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/662419182638703673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-new-inspiration.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-6622626874203387373</id><published>2009-05-01T13:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T13:43:56.420-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='plea'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='help'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='donation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='charity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fundraiser'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Navin Mistry (Johnny) met with an accident on the 4th April'09 around 1:10 in the afternoon when he was on his way to the office and has been undergoing treatment for head injuries at MGM hospital, Vashi, New Bombay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the accident he suffered injuries to the head causing multiple clots and internal bleeding. He underwent an immediate surgery (craniotomy) on the very same day and was incubated and connected to the ventilator but post surgery results showed the presence of residual clots for which he underwent another surgery (decompressed craniotomy) on 09/04/09.&lt;br /&gt;Repeat surgeries were performed for removing the Skull cap (left and right hemisphere, respectively) to ease the pressure caused by massive swelling of the brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On 09/04/09 the hospital gave us an approximate expenditure of Rs.6,50,000 (Six Lakhs Fifty Thousand) excluding the cost of medicines, which is amounting to around 10-15 thousand per day. This estimate was given to us prior to the last surgery. Currently the hospital costs are expected to be around Rs.10,00,000 and the medicines will probably amount to approx. Rs. 500000(Total likely expenditure estimated is Rs 15 lacs as of today).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Navin was the only earning menber of his family and the expenses for his treatment are well over his family's savings, hence we need to contribute in any possible way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have approached various trusts, politicians &amp;amp; institutions but the response till now is not very positive and any action from their side will take months.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-6622626874203387373?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/6622626874203387373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=6622626874203387373&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/6622626874203387373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/6622626874203387373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2009/05/navin-mistry-johnny-met-with-accident.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-2781902644457924964</id><published>2009-04-12T16:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T16:58:20.390-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>When will it end... when will be complete again&lt;br /&gt;sometimes life seems so bleak and so dark that i wish i could just run away&lt;br /&gt;sometimes it feels like i am worthless&lt;br /&gt;there are times when i wish it would just rain so that atleast someone will shed tears&lt;br /&gt;sometimes it feels like nothin can be done&lt;br /&gt;i have never felt so powerless&lt;br /&gt;i used to love dancing to the music of my heart and now the music is gone&lt;br /&gt;i used to love being my inner child and now the inner child seems to have grown up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i never hated the summer now i do and i dont know why&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish i was me again&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-2781902644457924964?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/2781902644457924964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=2781902644457924964&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/2781902644457924964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/2781902644457924964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2009/04/when-will-it-end.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-2366729775728636978</id><published>2009-02-14T20:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T20:54:57.744-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My Ode to MJ&lt;br /&gt;she crumbled in my arms&lt;br /&gt;weeping away her pain&lt;br /&gt;she was all i needed to feel content at that moment&lt;br /&gt;her sweet smell filling my senses&lt;br /&gt;her touch putting my mind  at ease&lt;br /&gt;as i lay there with her against my lips&lt;br /&gt;i felt complete&lt;br /&gt;i didn't feel like letting go&lt;br /&gt;no words needed to be exchanged&lt;br /&gt;there was no anguish no pain&lt;br /&gt;our dreams where the same&lt;br /&gt;my breathing breaking the silence&lt;br /&gt;the birds sang in a distance&lt;br /&gt;the sun slowly crept up the horizon&lt;br /&gt;i felt the pain disappear&lt;br /&gt;i closed my eyes as we became one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wrote this one ages ago never really got to blogging it well thts my random thoughts as usual at its finest should be more like it....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyhows its been a while since i opened my mind and wrote and this week a long lost friend helped clear my  mind a lot&lt;br /&gt;he was one of the first influences on my mind, he was one of the main reasons i decided not to follow the anyone but become myself&lt;br /&gt;someone recently told me in the past people could not define me aand they still cant i doubt if they will ever be able to...&lt;br /&gt;i dont know if i will be able to define myself lets see i think of myself as a non-conformist i think of myself as cold at times i dont like to harm people i dont know what i feel anymore i think i am happy but i am not... i think i am alright but my mind keeps thinking... i doubt if i will ever be defined but then it is not a bad thing it only adds to my legacy...&lt;br /&gt;i always have let my mine think sometimes i felt like i should stop  but then i never did and i dont think i ever will...&lt;br /&gt;well that is enough ranting for one day&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-2366729775728636978?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/2366729775728636978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=2366729775728636978&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/2366729775728636978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/2366729775728636978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-ode-to-mj-she-crumbled-in-my-arms.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-3288150060420659716</id><published>2009-02-14T20:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T20:18:01.895-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;i call this one  MY OWN&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As i lay awake in bed &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;seeing the lights shimmering i wondered to myself what is mine&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;the haze of smoke could not help me find an answer&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;the blurring vision &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; help either&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;the night grew cold and still&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;there was a shadow of a man walking down the street&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;scavenging for things to eat&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i realized what &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;isn't&lt;/span&gt; mine is his&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;she stood in a distance&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;under a dim light waiting for someone to fall for her charms&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;there is little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hailey&lt;/span&gt; to be fed she also needs new books she thought to herself&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;what &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;isn't&lt;/span&gt; his is hers&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;the wind swept the street and it rose to meet the new visitor from the east&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;the sky now was a bright orange&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;the night seemed to disappear in a flash&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;hailey&lt;/span&gt; stirred in her bed&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;she awoke with new dreams and living hopes&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;she wanted to make her life better she wanted a better world&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;this is when i realized it is all theirs&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;till death comes to me i strive to make this world a little better than it is&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;if i cant change anyone so be it i will be a good human to others&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;because the future of the world that those little eyes see deserves to be bright&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-3288150060420659716?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/3288150060420659716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=3288150060420659716&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/3288150060420659716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/3288150060420659716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-call-this-one-my-own-as-i-lay-awake.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-2107725472852853594</id><published>2009-01-23T05:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T06:04:58.167-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;music as defined by the dictionary is an artistic form of auditory communication incorporating instrumental or vocal tones in a structured and continuous manner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;isn't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt; it much more than that?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;well we do owe a lot to the music we grew up on. I think that music is a way of life. it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt; is a way of self-expression. I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt; even heard all the different types of music in the world so i &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt; am not an expert but then the different music i have heard and played helps me learn so much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;When i played &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Arabic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt; music i could see how the crowd reacted how they danced which was way different from what i had seen before. the culture that they shared with other &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Arabic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt; speaking countries was self evident. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;There are so many people around the world who listen to main stream commercial music but still have the same choices.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;my flatmate has lived his entire life in the UK  and somehow we have similar musical tastes which is quite &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;interesting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt; but brings to light the fact that music unites people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Why this sudden outburst of revelations? no idea thought about it randomly as usual &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-2107725472852853594?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/2107725472852853594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=2107725472852853594&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/2107725472852853594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/2107725472852853594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2009/01/music-as-defined-by-dictionary-is.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-562063493096175294</id><published>2008-12-31T08:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T08:34:12.886-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Another year draws to an end,&lt;br /&gt;thousands of tears mixed with blood flow into the seas,&lt;br /&gt;a million smiles and aspirations were born,&lt;br /&gt;new dreams where seen and things not thought of before were done,&lt;br /&gt;the world started slowing down and stalling,&lt;br /&gt;what the future holds for me i dont know,&lt;br /&gt;but i know this i wont be looking at work to be done and cracks to be patched on my walk of life,&lt;br /&gt;instead of looking for flaws in my mind i will be looking for potential to grow,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a wise man (my grandfather) once told me that life will have its trials and tribulations it will have its joys and sorrows take everything thrown at you with a smile and you will lead a good life.&lt;br /&gt;one of my fondest memories of new year was my sisters first new year. she was 9 days old and had been brought home from the hospital just 2 days ago. but it was brilliant i felt like i wasnt alone anymore. it felt like and still does feel like she is my world. thinking about it though it has been a good year so far, so many things have been done. so many new friendships have been built. so many new places have been seen though there are plenty more that i would like to see.&lt;br /&gt;I never thought i would be learning again but i am and i am enjoying every second of it. The challenges i faced at the start of the year which i thought i would never be able to complete i did. The fact that i changed the way some people work has been rewarding enough. The projects i undertook and completed were amazing. i never thought that i would be doing some of the work i did when i left college. I never thought i would take a trip across the oceans on free will but i did...&lt;br /&gt;not everything went the way i wanted it too.. but then it is a part of life isnt it... i had an amazing year and my only wish and prayer is that the next one is even better if not the same... i dont make new year resolutions but then this year i have made one to exist like the way i want to be like the way i would like people to remeber me.&lt;br /&gt;happy new year!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-562063493096175294?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/562063493096175294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=562063493096175294&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/562063493096175294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/562063493096175294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2008/12/another-year-draws-to-end-thousands-of.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-2046625298196953801</id><published>2008-12-27T04:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T04:37:20.467-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have a new question which has been troubling me over and over again so i might as well write it out and hopefully something happens&lt;br /&gt;what is reality?&lt;br /&gt;where can we draw the line between illusion and reality?&lt;br /&gt;if reality is created by man, it would imply that relaity is what is created by our thoughts? what are thoughts created of then.&lt;br /&gt;language who decided which language to use how did we end up with naming things like god or stone...&lt;br /&gt;if there was only one language in the world would it have been a better place?&lt;br /&gt;is expecting the world to be a better place an illusion or a reality?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-2046625298196953801?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/2046625298196953801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=2046625298196953801&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/2046625298196953801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/2046625298196953801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-have-new-question-which-has-been.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-736157261034944122</id><published>2008-12-13T05:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T05:14:58.024-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Migrating Birds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As i stood in my window and shouted out my last goodbyes a feeling of calm ascended on the halls of residence....&lt;br /&gt;the unusually quite guildhall walk was not a sight to see...&lt;br /&gt;there were no shouts out of the windows and not anyone to call around...&lt;br /&gt;there was no music and no beer...&lt;br /&gt;the party never started...&lt;br /&gt;the calm i thought would be a welcome change but it is not,&lt;br /&gt;the tigers had gone to bed early.... there were a few souls remaining but they will be gone soon...&lt;br /&gt;the nature cried to see them go it cried all night long....&lt;br /&gt;the migration reminds me of who i really am...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-736157261034944122?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/736157261034944122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=736157261034944122&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/736157261034944122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/736157261034944122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2008/12/migrating-birds-as-i-stood-in-my-window.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-8661273032597353672</id><published>2008-09-30T14:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T14:05:33.454-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>With total credit to def poetry for awakening me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit in my room and go insane from silence&lt;br /&gt;and you have seen me at those moments&lt;br /&gt;and have stuck out your tongue and gone along with it&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;I am less acutely aware of all that I know as I am of all that I have yet to learn&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't before you.&lt;br /&gt;Before you I knew everything, now everything is new&lt;br /&gt;Before you I stood in fields of yellow-white corn&lt;br /&gt;self-assured, omniscient, young.&lt;br /&gt;I challenged wind to footraces and goaded mountains into staring contests&lt;br /&gt;and if at times I lost, it was 'cause I chose to&lt;br /&gt;it was because I  reasoned logically that it was better to&lt;br /&gt;let God believe he had the edge than argue pointedly about the inner workings of infinity&lt;br /&gt;and prove that he did not&lt;br /&gt;then you run up to me and speak you mind&lt;br /&gt;and suddenly, the sky tearing, I realize: I hadn't thought of that.&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;do not ask me if I love you&lt;br /&gt;there is no need&lt;br /&gt;simply read this poem&lt;br /&gt;I will tell you, surely(shortly?), of my own free will, repeatedly, and often&lt;br /&gt;so do not ask me why&lt;br /&gt;there is no need&lt;br /&gt;simply pick up this poem&lt;br /&gt;and read.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-8661273032597353672?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/8661273032597353672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=8661273032597353672&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/8661273032597353672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/8661273032597353672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2008/09/with-total-credit-to-def-poetry-for.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-5515614451666419325</id><published>2008-09-28T04:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T04:31:58.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hmm i wonder this will go but then its a start i guess&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chapter 1&lt;br /&gt;1.1&lt;br /&gt;It was a rainy day in Mumbai. Though he hated calling it that we felt it was politically correct as compared to Bombay. As he sat there watching the rain drops splatter against the window. He thought of the beautiful city in front of him, to him it was the city of angels, drenched in rain the city looked like a newly wed bride blushing with happiness. The high towers seemed so distant in the rain. The sea looked calm and as always inviting. The waves crashed against the rocks and the spray just made it look better. He looked around here he was at a crossroad. He had no idea what was going to happen when he left his safe haven and go to a strange place alien to him. The calm was always followed by a storm. Was he going to survive it? It had started about one year ago first the interview for the exchange program then the wait for everything to finalize the anticipation was worse as the days flew by. How will I make friends he thought to himself, what about the cold? It seemed like something that was only a dream was about to come true. He was always the boy who did what was told he never did anything wrong. But a lot of things had gone bad, his relationships had all been weird weather it was with his parents his classmates or his women. Looking back he thought what have I made of myself? Is there anything to tell the world that I am here? Is there anything I have done to make me proud? This was his chance this was the one chance he felt he had to make something of himself. He was clay that was about to be molded. Life is beautiful it turns it rises and it falls he hadn’t seen it all but he wanted to. He had led a very protected life and this was the first time he left vulnerable. The anticipation only grew as the clock ticked away. He had decided he didn’t want to cry. He didn’t want to feel weak. He hated feeling out of control. His grandfather had taught him to be self reliant and in control he didn’t want that to go waste. He thought of his grandfather he had taught him a  lot he had helped him study he had taught him to swim and he was the one who had encouraged him to swim competitively he had been there when he was sick he had told him stories and then one day he had dreamt about his death he didn’t want to bring it up with anyone but when it happened the next day he felt like he was still in the dream he wanted to slap himself awake, but he lived the nightmare. Walking in front of the coffin during the funeral with a cross in his hand he had tried to put on a brave face he wanted to show the world this is what he taught me. This is how he had been molded at a young age in control of his emotions. He smiled and put on a brave face in all conditions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-5515614451666419325?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/5515614451666419325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=5515614451666419325&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/5515614451666419325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/5515614451666419325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2008/09/hmm-i-wonder-this-will-go-but-then-its.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-3981600590730230336</id><published>2008-09-27T05:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T05:37:16.358-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My greatest fear has been the quicksand. not the real one though. It is when one small thing goes wrong and then the other things start to fail and slowly everything around you is falling and breaking there is no where you can turn the harder you try to run away from it the worse it gets and then there is darkness all around. There is no light at the end of the tunnel and you feel suffocated. How did this come about it was yesterday at the party when suddenly I was on stage the first ever gig i played i had the same feeling. What if the sound goes what if the people dont like what i play what if? but then it all came toghter it doesnt always happen tho sometimes its more of i hope that makes thing happen. I rarely speak about my fears but then its time to slay the demons and move forward&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-3981600590730230336?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/3981600590730230336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=3981600590730230336&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/3981600590730230336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/3981600590730230336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-greatest-fear-has-been-quicksand.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-1744239332633759025</id><published>2008-09-24T13:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T13:35:58.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Walking against the wind. Cold drops falling from the skies like tear drops. the sound of the waves gently thrashing the breakers. All i could wish for was a hand. As i walked along the pier with its war monuments on one side and lush green lawns on the other looking up at the skyline to see the spin tower i felt i should have been a bird. i wished i could fly over the sea admiring its might and beauty it was here that they lay at rest it was here that mankind flourished. It was here that history was made, sometimes i feel insignificant in this world where so many have come and gone but then i live with the hope that i will make my name somewhere someplace till then we cherish each moment&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-1744239332633759025?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/1744239332633759025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=1744239332633759025&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/1744239332633759025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/1744239332633759025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2008/09/walking-against-wind.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-3906476453845152251</id><published>2008-03-23T06:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-23T06:51:59.235-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The only thing that keeps me sane is my insanity...&lt;br /&gt;the only thing that keeps me human is my mutant soul&lt;br /&gt;This is something that occured to me in one of my dreams.. i stopped asking the doc to help cuz he has a one track mind and i dare to disagree with him..&lt;br /&gt;every now and then i let my mind wander it wanders far and wide sometimes it comes back hurt sometimes it returns with a huge bounty...&lt;br /&gt;i read in the newspaper (i guess) that some people have made revolting their hobby... there are so many causes in the world then why rebel without a cause... we see all the stars pour money in places like dafur... some get inspired some do it cuz their heartthrob did it.. i say rebel .. revolt is good.. but rebel for a brighter tmrw not for a darker today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-3906476453845152251?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/3906476453845152251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=3906476453845152251&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/3906476453845152251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/3906476453845152251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2008/03/only-thing-that-keeps-me-sane-is-my.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-3563428605494624123</id><published>2008-03-15T07:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T07:44:40.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was asked why did i get a tattoo?&lt;br /&gt;Was it because it was the in thing? i guess not cuz i always went against the system...i didnt wanna fit in i was and will always be who i am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess the only reason i got a tattoo was cuz i considered it to be an extension of my thoughts..  there was once a friend who told me your thoughts at times are so dark that they scare me.. i never really thought of it that way.. maybe i should&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-3563428605494624123?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/3563428605494624123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=3563428605494624123&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/3563428605494624123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/3563428605494624123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-was-asked-why-did-i-get-tattoo-was-it.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-2847330590948251526</id><published>2007-06-16T09:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-16T09:22:09.005-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm sitting here in the boring roomIt's just another rainy Sunday afternoonI'm wasting my timeI got nothing to doI'm hanging aroundI'm waiting for youBut nothing ever happens and I wonder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder howI wonder whyYesterday you told me 'bout the blue blue skyAnd all that I can see is just a yellow lemon-treeI'm turning my head up and downI'm turning turning turning turning turning aroundAnd all that I can see is just another lemon-tree&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ah fool's garden....just rembered this song cuz i have been hummin the tune since morning....god knows why....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyhows, this is one of my random posting....things i do when i have time on my hands and i am lost in thought of someone somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ah yes my new creation&lt;br /&gt;wonder if it will work though&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am just a stiletto in the dark....&lt;br /&gt;all i crave is light....&lt;br /&gt;i maybe just a mirage...&lt;br /&gt;caused out of your fright...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-2847330590948251526?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/2847330590948251526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=2847330590948251526&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/2847330590948251526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/2847330590948251526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2007/06/im-sitting-here-in-boring-roomits-just.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-8335717162056674150</id><published>2007-04-30T09:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T09:16:12.205-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>its been ages since i wrote, i guess the reason was simple-work.&lt;br /&gt;Now when i write it feels like i have been itchin to write for such a long time...&lt;br /&gt;sometimes we have speedbreaks in life when we are running away too fast this is one of those days when nothin goes your way and you feel like u have lost everythin u held onto....and then comes the revelation tht u have to keep fightin...cuz the war aint over....i have the warrior symbol engraved on my left triscep....how appropriate dont you think....its the way life is....a battle to survive a battle to get your right full....only the strong will survive said darwin i say balls to him...only the determined will survive&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-8335717162056674150?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/8335717162056674150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=8335717162056674150&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/8335717162056674150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/8335717162056674150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2007/04/its-been-ages-since-i-wrote-i-guess.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-1351130387340387837</id><published>2007-01-02T20:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T20:56:53.889-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i wanna swim......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its been a while since i jumped in the pool and did my mandaory laps.....&lt;br /&gt;all my drills....&lt;br /&gt;i miss swimmin...it was so peacefull&lt;br /&gt;all my worries used to vanish each time i was in the pool&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-1351130387340387837?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/1351130387340387837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=1351130387340387837&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/1351130387340387837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/1351130387340387837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-wanna-swim.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-3959888536144949309</id><published>2006-12-26T01:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-26T02:06:49.932-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>this is one incident that kind of made me laugh my as* off.....&lt;br /&gt;i was at this shop and two much older corporates were talkin abt the newer generation.....they are irresponsible they are like this they are like that&lt;br /&gt;they want easy money.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hey.....we didnt start the fire it was always burnin.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we have different aspirations from our parents no doubt in tht.......&lt;br /&gt;the way we go forward to achieve is also different...&lt;br /&gt;they broke their parents rules and we breakin their..... it called angst....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;freedom was also a topic of disscusion between the two gentlemen....wht can i say...i can only quote&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The only real prison is fear, and the only real freedom is freedom from fear&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;AUNG SAN SUU KYI&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:aditymoses@gmail.com"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-3959888536144949309?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/3959888536144949309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=3959888536144949309&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/3959888536144949309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/3959888536144949309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2006/12/this-is-one-incident-that-kind-of-made.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-2785549049286853568</id><published>2006-12-19T22:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T22:53:50.476-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>its that time of the year again when the fragrance of cakes and cookies wafts thru the air...... every where the xmas spirt....&lt;br /&gt;we have stories abt the grinch....&lt;br /&gt;the grinch still lives...except he aint no green monster....&lt;br /&gt;he is just invisble...and stays inside our mind.....&lt;br /&gt;he is called fear......&lt;br /&gt;we all fear something or the other.... the question is why....&lt;br /&gt;fear is installed in us by society??? possible&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only real prison is fear, and the only real freedom is freedom from fear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-2785549049286853568?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/2785549049286853568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=2785549049286853568&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/2785549049286853568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/2785549049286853568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2006/12/its-that-time-of-year-again-when.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-116582700820084596</id><published>2006-12-11T00:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-11T00:50:08.206-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>its been a while since i wrote....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was wonderin how do i survive.....&lt;br /&gt;life is filled with twists and turns.....&lt;br /&gt;i have always been on a roller coaster....except the drop aint stoppin...it seems never ending.......&lt;br /&gt;i look arnd and see the luxuries...all i can do is wish i had them ......&lt;br /&gt;my wants are never ending, as an after thought i often feel like i am complete and i need to be content but tht aint happenin.....&lt;br /&gt;hmm well maybe i am cribin too much and doin too lil abt it...&lt;br /&gt;till i lose my sanity again&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-116582700820084596?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/116582700820084596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=116582700820084596&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/116582700820084596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/116582700820084596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2006/12/its-been-while-since-i-wrote.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-116263043968604539</id><published>2006-11-04T00:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-04T00:53:59.693-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i was listenin to good ole RHCP&lt;br /&gt;the song was one from their new album.....when i realized y i like this band so much.....&lt;br /&gt;they sing to me&lt;br /&gt;atleast tht wht i feel&lt;br /&gt;ozzy also sings to me..........&lt;br /&gt;i guess wht i wanna say is tht its music tht keeps me from becomin insane....there r tons of songs i say are my favourites...but then y are they so....its cuz i can realate to them....i understand what the band wants to say cuz i am goin thru the same phase......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or maybe i am already insane??????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-116263043968604539?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/116263043968604539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=116263043968604539&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/116263043968604539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/116263043968604539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-was-listenin-to-good-ole-rhcp-song.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-116143244151424569</id><published>2006-10-21T05:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-21T05:07:21.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>its been a while since i set my creative juices flowing.....&lt;br /&gt;but then i really didnt wanna bother the world with my crap......&lt;br /&gt;this time i am gonna tell a story of a boy....&lt;br /&gt;he grew up in a small town...started lissenin to remixes.....and today he dresses up like a hip hop artist&lt;br /&gt;though his english is almost non existent still he tries to rammble somethin vague....&lt;br /&gt;why am i writin this.....not cuz i wanna mak him feel bad.....its just cuz we like him have lost touch of who we really are.....&lt;br /&gt;we interact with some many people in so many different situations that we rarely project our true selfs......&lt;br /&gt;AWAKE my friends&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-116143244151424569?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/116143244151424569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=116143244151424569&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/116143244151424569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/116143244151424569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2006/10/its-been-while-since-i-set-my-creative.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-116126136040237666</id><published>2006-10-19T05:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-19T05:36:00.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i was just reading about a person called james blunt.....i know many of you know who he is but some of you dont, i aint a big fan of you're beautiful....&lt;br /&gt;i read that his whole family was in the army and he was a engg like me......something that he didnt exactly like....something that he thought would be different from what it really was.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how true.....so many things in my entire life i have just taken cuz the cover looked good.....i really never saw what was inside.....only now do i realize it.....but still i dont improve..........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-116126136040237666?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/116126136040237666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=116126136040237666&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/116126136040237666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/116126136040237666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-was-just-reading-about-person-called.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-116056984861363536</id><published>2006-10-11T05:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-11T05:30:48.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>the way life turns out isnt always right, but then who said that it would be perfect.&lt;br /&gt;life according to me is like trekking, i know it might sound weird but still, the aim is to reach the summit. the only problem is its very lonely on top and oyu wish you had some company.&lt;br /&gt;reaching the top isnt tht easy as well specially for someone like me. who is a born renegade, who satnds for what he believes in and follows his own ideals. in this conformist world around me i am a digen - a outsider- who believes he can change he world. a lot of people opt to do MBA's the reason.....money. isnt a master of buisness administration supposed to use his acumen for the betterment of society. or maybe i am just old fashioned and cant understand the needs of todays society. the so called priemier institutes aint of much help either they are more like a toyota car assembly and less like academic centers. then how do i trek. how do i reach the top when the road in front of me is scattered with boulders which cannot be scaled. i am not the kind of person who will go around them.i would rather let the boulder rush onto me and die in its path then run away&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-116056984861363536?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/116056984861363536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=116056984861363536&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/116056984861363536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/116056984861363536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2006/10/way-life-turns-out-isnt-always-right.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-116038185142403991</id><published>2006-10-09T01:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-09T01:17:31.430-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>my brand new dancing shoes.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dancing isnt as easy as it looks and i found out the tough way......&lt;br /&gt;after dancing a night away the next day is worse than havin a hangover, every part of your body hurts.....&lt;br /&gt;damn me and my new shoes....y did they have to force me to dance.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but there are other issues which are botherin me more....my dreams......&lt;br /&gt;i keep seeing the same dream again and again....i went to ask dr.freud but you knw wht his answer was....all his solutions are the same.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;right now i wish i was in bed sleeping and some1 massaging my sore bones....i guess ill have to train my dog...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-116038185142403991?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/116038185142403991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=116038185142403991&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/116038185142403991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/116038185142403991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2006/10/my-brand-new-dancing-shoes.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-116020171644671027</id><published>2006-10-06T23:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-06T23:15:16.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i miss my dog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gorby was born on he 1st of jan...he was a lab....&lt;br /&gt;what was so special about him you migh think....&lt;br /&gt;well sometimes i actually felt he was better than some humans....&lt;br /&gt;whenever he ate ice cream he didnt dirty the floor....&lt;br /&gt;when he ate a choclate he didnt throw the wrapper on the floor....&lt;br /&gt;when he was told to retrive a ball he brought it back and made sure that he released the ball only after i had a hold on it....&lt;br /&gt;he was always there by my side...&lt;br /&gt;if i was figthing with someone, he would growl and make his presence felt....&lt;br /&gt;if i was cycling he would run along, and if i fell down he was the first one to lick my face and make me happy........&lt;br /&gt;if i went swimming in the lake he would swim.....&lt;br /&gt;i was never alone.....&lt;br /&gt;today he lives in my memory....till his last breath he was with me....he taught me so many things...&lt;br /&gt;i just wish everyone had a teacher like him to teach them the values of bing there for someone, not littering and loving someone unconditionally.....&lt;br /&gt;thank you gorby............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-116020171644671027?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/116020171644671027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=116020171644671027&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/116020171644671027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/116020171644671027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-miss-my-dog-gorby-was-born-on-he-1st.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-116013678778504799</id><published>2006-10-06T04:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-06T05:13:07.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>well it has been another eventfull day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am hooked to online tests...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lets see i started out with a quest to find my IQ and ended up finding my emotional IQ, my carrer personality my love personality, my celebrity soul mate, my celebrity double, my theme song, my song,my inner rock star, my music personality, what kind of kisser am i damn i dont even rember what happened to the IQ test....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then i found good ole freud withand his weird test, what can i say the dude was a sex maniac.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how important are these tests? do they really tell me abt the person i am or the way my life is gonna shape up....i wonder and ponder....as the sun sets across the horizon.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right Job/Wrong Job- Creative&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Career Interest Inventory- Engineering&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who's Your Movie Star Double?-Benjamin Bratt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who's Your Music Match?-Sexy Pop Prince&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Zodiac Match Test-Taurus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What Kind of Kisser Are You?-Romantic Kisser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Attraction Factor-Energy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Corporate Culture Test-Team Player&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Brain Test-Left-brained&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Classic IQ Test-Precision Processor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 5-Factor IPIP Personality Test-Personable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Love Personality Test-ESFP&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Dream Interpretation Test-Mastery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guy Kawasaki's Entrepreneurial IQ Test-69% or lower&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's Your Style?-Sexy 'n' Sophisticate...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's Your Song?-Another One Bites the...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who's Your Inner Rock Star?-Eminem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who's Your Celebrity Soul Mate?-Cute&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Freud Test-Young Child&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's Your Theme Song?-Back in Black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's Your True Talent?-Mechanical Ability&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Career Personality Test-INFJ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Emotional IQ Test-Empathy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's Your Destiny?-Provider&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What Kind of Sexy Are You?-Smart 'n' Sexy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why Are You Still Single?-Don't Want To Settle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Multiple Intelligences Test-Social Intelligence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i told you i took a lot of tests&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-116013678778504799?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/116013678778504799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=116013678778504799&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/116013678778504799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/116013678778504799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2006/10/well-it-has-been-another-eventfull-day_06.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-116004384619011336</id><published>2006-10-05T03:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-05T03:24:06.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>MY TAKE...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On ME......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have been wondering for a long long time as o why i am here, whats the purpose of my existence.&lt;br /&gt;i dreamt abt a thousand things that i could do. i made plans to do hundreds of things .&lt;br /&gt;the truth is that my dreams are very sarcastic, they mock myy sense of sanity.&lt;br /&gt;i walked in the park hoping that i would get some time to think alone, as always i was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;any park is filled with trees and screaming children you might think but in mumbai its filled with love struck pups. i couldn find a empty bench nor did i find a shady place to seek refuge from the sun. totally fustrated i walked back home, on my way back i saw akid crying, then i saw his mother walkin miles ahead of the poor kid, why would she do tht; well actually she was on her cell phone talkin to one of her friends-more like gossiping- the kid had hurt his toe on a stone but she wouldnt care. this is when i finally understood the reason for my existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was very simple-in this materialistic, confirmist world i was the renegade-clear hai.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-116004384619011336?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/116004384619011336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=116004384619011336&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/116004384619011336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/116004384619011336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2006/10/my-take_05.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-115994730247400963</id><published>2006-10-04T00:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-04T00:35:02.483-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>MY TAKE......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ON ACCENTS...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the dictionary describes the word 'accent' as a way in which someone pronounces words of a language in a distictive way that shows which country they come from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i walk ino one of the many coffee cafes around me in mumbai i am attacked by a variety of accents from the typical northie accent to the typical southie accent and then suddenly a hear someone speaking in an american accent which screams out for mercy..the accent that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;many of us today work in contact centres, thats the glorified word for call centers, which cater to clients around the globe.&lt;br /&gt;i personally have nothing against call centers or their employees. the only thing that hurts me is that we get so engrossed in their way of working that we forget the way we speak....we happily put on a fake accent which is no where close to the way those people actually speak. to top it off some of us even change out names so harvinder becomes harry and ankit becomes andy.&lt;br /&gt;whats more funny is that people sop associating with our real names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe pseudo accents and pseudo names make us look cooler make us stand out in the crowd, but to what extent are we ready to go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-115994730247400963?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/115994730247400963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=115994730247400963&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/115994730247400963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/115994730247400963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2006/10/my-take.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-115943646376569656</id><published>2006-09-28T02:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-29T00:29:15.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>MY TAKE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ON CRICKET.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is a huge ruckus over the upcoming ICC champions trophy...&lt;br /&gt;teams which are gonna play the qualifiers include west indies...&lt;br /&gt;if my memory serves me correct wasnt this the same team and beat inida recently...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;every since i was a kid i wondered how a cricket team was made...how were these people selected...now i have the answers after years of research....&lt;br /&gt;the first rule is eat samosas, jalebis, gulab jamuns, sandwhichs, burgers pizzas basically anything edible tht you can get hold of in the next five minutes...after which the selection meeting can start...&lt;br /&gt;the second and most important rule is...pick the players who have done the maximum number of ad's recespective of their form&lt;br /&gt;the third rule....create ways in which some important inform player will be left out. usualy the excuse for this is he isnt fit.&lt;br /&gt;the fourth and the most important rule....whoever passes the selection process has to be a certified choker&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-115943646376569656?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/115943646376569656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=115943646376569656&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/115943646376569656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/115943646376569656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2006/09/my-take-on-cricket.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-115933135161853613</id><published>2006-09-26T21:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-26T21:29:11.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>MY TAKE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Dandiya,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The music was blarring from the speakers,the crowd was a usual mixture of young and old.&lt;br /&gt;I was transfixed to a spot trying to learn the finer details of Dandiya. witht a little help i soon picked up the pieces and was soon on my way to the hall of fame&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As i watched the crowd i saw people playin for fun like me&lt;br /&gt;while there were others who stood out from the crowd in the way they dressed and played, they were there with th sole purpose of winning a prize.&lt;br /&gt;i looked around a little more still zapped by the ironic situation&lt;br /&gt;and there she was dressed in a yellow tee and peddle pushers i felt like singing yellow by coldplay to her.....then i saw her dance....just like a robot she burnt up the dance floor in her own right...&lt;br /&gt;there were others too providin me some much needed comic relief...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at the end of all this......dandiya is a nice place to have some clean fun....but the sticks arent supposed to be used as weapons of mass destruction and he have clearly forgotten our roots...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-115933135161853613?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/115933135161853613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=115933135161853613&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/115933135161853613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/115933135161853613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2006/09/my-take-on-dandiya-music-was-blarring.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-115928056067433721</id><published>2006-09-26T07:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-26T07:22:40.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;they tie me down with their chains.....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;they want to burn me down with my idealogies....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;but they dont understand....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;they dont understan tht they will die....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;all die in the strom created by my rage.....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;i wasnt born this way....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;this world made me.....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;i am a revolutionary.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-115928056067433721?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/115928056067433721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=115928056067433721&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/115928056067433721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/115928056067433721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2006/09/they-tie-me-down-with-their-chains.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35051175.post-115928009807497826</id><published>2006-09-26T07:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-26T07:14:58.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6907/3892/1600/22786703.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6907/3892/320/22786703.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;i have been quite for too long....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;i have heard enough of your abuses....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;i am tired of being your slave.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;i wanna be free....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;i wanna be myself....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;my wrath will show no mercy as it tears thru you....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;only after you face my wrath will you understand....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;understand why i am a phoenix....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35051175-115928009807497826?l=poeticallydead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/feeds/115928009807497826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35051175&amp;postID=115928009807497826&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/115928009807497826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35051175/posts/default/115928009807497826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poeticallydead.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-have-been-quite-for-too-long.html' title=''/><author><name>ady</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15170633091120000473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
