tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74558996776208192832024-02-06T19:36:32.795-08:00Of all the finer things in life..silk smitha and disco shantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10606946403550014636noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7455899677620819283.post-10294750927958335912010-12-15T07:58:00.000-08:002010-12-15T20:47:32.025-08:00titles ~ unimportantScratched price tags on the gifts you receive~ scream that a price was paid<br />
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Orange peels ~ for sweet revenges<br />
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Suicide ~ knowing that you can end your life anytime you want to. just the knowing ~ such a solace<br />
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Unstamped WinnieThePooh stamps on the handwritten letters you receive ~ first cutest<br />
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Live cricket matches ~ anytime. all for the mexican waves that die only after 5 whole rounds.and the sun-like floodlights<br />
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Takeshi's castle ~ must-enter<br />
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Darts and dart boards ~ with each dart you shoot, the bitchiness of life reduces. significantly<br />
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Funny videos ~ one of your wishes too is to die after you choke on laughter and tummy ache watching these?<br />
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Guys who watch jerry&tommy with nieces and nephews quarter their age and laugh as hard as the 8 year olds~ anytime. second cutest<br />
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Magnifying glasses, slingshots, big huge globes, harmonicas, sand timers, compasses ~ must-owns<br />
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Sanity ~ difficult to maintain<br />
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Pebbles on the streets ~ must-kicks<br />
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Tildes ~ lovely.lovely curves ~Sanahahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14393295978017490189noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7455899677620819283.post-60443809282985811162009-03-01T05:00:00.000-08:002009-03-01T05:37:43.995-08:00The Beast and the Beast<div style="text-align: justify;">I was walking on the shore,with her hand in mine...the sea waves were blissfully sweeping sand off my feet.... the horizon seemed nearer..the sky closer...i could see the tides kiss the shore each time further and further.... as if beseeching it to join them..I looked at her.Her gaze was vacant, fixed at some far away coconut groves.Her other hand held her sandals...was swinging casually...as if she held a bunch of flowers....she slightly jerked her head to push those naughty strands near her lips, back.There must be a word to describe her poise... i thought...there must be a word to <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">describe her for me</span> at that moment....and somebody whispered <br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">ELEGANT....</div><div style="text-align: justify;">We drifted a little deeper...let her knees touch the clear blue water.her demeanour was as mysterious as the depths of the mighty presence we were near..My heart as tumultuous as the tempest brewing somewhere far....</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Just like the proverbial out of the blue... </div><div style="text-align: justify;">I stopped.she as oblivious as always,was stopped when her hand held tightly pulled her back.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">She looked.No emotions...Just a glance. </div><div style="text-align: justify;">I knelt in front of her held her hand in front of my lips,looked up..in her eyes..daring the depths..and said </div><div style="text-align: justify;">"I Love You"</div><div style="text-align: justify;">She looked and now i know, not at me.. there was a gentle smirk while she said....</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"It's not deep enough."</div><div><br /></div><div> </div>sushruthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326424690049216261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7455899677620819283.post-81412832325880273922008-09-26T23:44:00.000-07:002009-03-01T00:24:05.502-08:00<br><br><i><br />* Spit bubbles<br />* Jedi maNNu and Kappe goodu<br />* Sharaap-current,Lagori,Mysore ball<br />* Pa bhaashe [ Nipingu gopotta?]<br />* Cork balls made out of Katti kaayi which felt moist to touch and smelled finely raw;and the sound that came when one felt its stickiness by clasping the fingers tight and releasing them<br />* Dinga and phakru of Balamangala; Tantri,Suppandi and Shikari Shambhu of Tinkle<br />* Peeling fevicol out of fingers<br />* The balloon-mama who used to add a li'l sooji into the balloon and stretch the elastic till we feared it would tear off,before blowing air into it<br />* Clapping hands onto the ears and letting it go to experience the "Doppler effect" in noisy classrooms when the class teacher's out and the class leader is desperately adding plusses[+] in front of the names written on the black-board <br />* Ajji pukka<br />* GaaLipata & its baalangochi<br />* Empty match boxes & the minchu-huLa<br /><br /><br><br /><br></i>Sanahahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14393295978017490189noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7455899677620819283.post-75594076154205887222008-08-08T10:16:00.000-07:002008-08-10T01:02:18.175-07:00Of silence <br><span style="font-style:italic;">Lazily humming the tune of 'Woh chup rahey tho mere dil ke daag jalte hain..',i look at the stars from over the terrace..<br /> The song suddenly catches my attention..that one line- '....khamoshiyon se tho dil aur dimaag jalte hain..'..and i smile as my thoughts shift towards you....your silence..<br /><br />I know your silence as very well as i know your jaunty talks..<br />Sushruth[whom i know only thru his blog posts] writes about <a href="http://idlyvadesambar.blogspot.com/2008/06/deafening-silence.html">deafening silence</a> in his post..of silence that's never silent enough..<br />I shake my head..it isn't that..it's not noisy...it's neither protesting nor accusing..<br /><br />It is never awkward..never intrusive...Only dormant.</span><br /><br><br>Sanahahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14393295978017490189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7455899677620819283.post-1496672134965909842008-07-31T08:54:00.000-07:002008-07-31T09:28:54.901-07:00sweet nothingsi know u long enough to remember your surname..and yet i find myself saying why didnt we meet earlier...i dont think too much about you..but just enough to wonder if you liked that movie as much as i did.. i fondly recollect you searching for me..walking with hurried steps to catch up with me..that innocent glee on your face...<br />may be we will part our ways as usual..may be we will hold on a little longer..<br />whatever..the pleasure is mine....sushruthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326424690049216261noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7455899677620819283.post-58378270855907655192008-07-21T10:14:00.000-07:002008-12-09T08:43:53.543-08:00Its all about the country side..<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzV9r09Wj7-yZFaOxjgQAUFRwZZ3lxXsQ7SiQTqy6sWqufuK5qkATvNL65LC7KaaEqYXKKn1YdnVGjznLREQnoGGs0LNCFjxaJ8W47zb7wSLKnyocQHrggVu2piBBi-yuT293nG2m7wZU/s1600-h/Railway8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzV9r09Wj7-yZFaOxjgQAUFRwZZ3lxXsQ7SiQTqy6sWqufuK5qkATvNL65LC7KaaEqYXKKn1YdnVGjznLREQnoGGs0LNCFjxaJ8W47zb7wSLKnyocQHrggVu2piBBi-yuT293nG2m7wZU/s400/Railway8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225522360692180194" border="0" /></a><br />Of long rides and big noisy gangs of boys...<br />of the watery destinations and lies told to mum,<br />between saving money and spending times our choice<br />risk to life and limb some say , oh come get some!<br /><br />its not about the source or the destination,<br />its not about the "Daring youth of the nation"<br />Its not about the thunder of your bike, don't be so gung-ho,<br />Its all about the journey by the countryside bro...<br /><br />its only the journey...its about where all you go!!!Icemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722878879092454627noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7455899677620819283.post-63200932560041318522008-07-20T01:58:00.000-07:002008-12-09T08:43:54.032-08:00Purple HAZEStanding on top of school buses on rainy july afternoons....waiting for all the teachers to pass thorough.....bullying younger kids to shut their mouths....begging the bus driver to wait for a few more minutes....all this just to pluck delicious, mouth watering, purple coloured jamoons off trees.....your pallet is confounded with a multitude of tastes....sour...sweet..bitter...and above all....a sensation in your mouth that you can't name.....and of course...the wonderful purple colour of you tounge..<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoNZmHc5S4OtSfDoz-D1CO-DSAS-bE0cXv0CvuNax9rCq7i9-JcY646jZyuvutxDUEeYCbOtQyKCV62kP1cCn84tCLvpQbRI3cRr1eYYv_4Y2mTZcVHvxVG0bww6aknh6Mj5YqfKRcEBr2/s1600-h/174902742_8ad33ef03f.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoNZmHc5S4OtSfDoz-D1CO-DSAS-bE0cXv0CvuNax9rCq7i9-JcY646jZyuvutxDUEeYCbOtQyKCV62kP1cCn84tCLvpQbRI3cRr1eYYv_4Y2mTZcVHvxVG0bww6aknh6Mj5YqfKRcEBr2/s320/174902742_8ad33ef03f.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225021387209886754" border="0" /></a>...<br />The tastes on my pallet are the same even now, when i buy jamoons off the roads.But even a unripe jammon tasted much more delicious when i used to pluck them off trees....silk smitha and disco shantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10606946403550014636noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7455899677620819283.post-69359861857748886122008-06-17T11:09:00.000-07:002008-06-17T11:49:10.110-07:00Deafening Silence<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">I know u were here, </span><span style="font-family:georgia;">even if sometimes u choose not to tell me,</span><br /><br /></div> <span style="font-family:georgia;">u think u left no trace,<br />ahh..only if u knew what rush of sweetness still lingers by,</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><br />u tread softly..but ur anklets roar in me, </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">u whisper, i listen aloud,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">u breathe, the melody stirrs me,</span><br /><br />u lower your gaze coyly, i see the raw seething,<br /><br />u fake courtesy,i bear the snub,<br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">u smile,but u forget i can see through.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">of all the </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" >finer</span><span style="font-family:georgia;"> things in life,my love... u r the</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" > finest.<br /><br /></span>sushruthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326424690049216261noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7455899677620819283.post-28029053019008515702008-06-13T22:44:00.000-07:002008-12-09T08:43:54.476-08:00Sleep and the city...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzJnbT4ia72lkOnsQ5GXiZTzL9EV8lu-4t5L9d7dLOuTh72S9j6jfuFPPZFzSyGDVW1ECgb0dnPXFcsKSEDFLGEli1-qY9XC6ypJJuDiGb_C-6vrlc44q25yEUfGI3TIa6qrbrDS5OQ90/s1600-h/Image059+-+Copy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211621613712560530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzJnbT4ia72lkOnsQ5GXiZTzL9EV8lu-4t5L9d7dLOuTh72S9j6jfuFPPZFzSyGDVW1ECgb0dnPXFcsKSEDFLGEli1-qY9XC6ypJJuDiGb_C-6vrlc44q25yEUfGI3TIa6qrbrDS5OQ90/s400/Image059+-+Copy.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:georgia;"><em>Rough friday night. 2 am and lumpy, glowing snow pounds at window. Wooden floor-boards creak and echo. Glass catches breathing fog, watches icy wind pepper skin. Dead white quiet. A shivering snuggle into warm duvet, sheets leading upto toasty dreams. It's a happy november weekend! </em></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><em><br /></em></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeZ3H6WJMa9Kd1FzJdG_Q3a6r17r54CClN7RXenGcPMAf9VlIBIMeGhWEe9Qc1uB5oIiwtwrJidQmaAAVv9C2YsUTlc7QJWc61_8eFneeZhHzYkajnUlxp2hK8i1HSo4dULM04h90o3to/s1600-h/Image000+-+Copy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211621623166305266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeZ3H6WJMa9Kd1FzJdG_Q3a6r17r54CClN7RXenGcPMAf9VlIBIMeGhWEe9Qc1uB5oIiwtwrJidQmaAAVv9C2YsUTlc7QJWc61_8eFneeZhHzYkajnUlxp2hK8i1HSo4dULM04h90o3to/s400/Image000+-+Copy.jpg" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7455899677620819283.post-38173827110370795882008-06-02T08:41:00.000-07:002008-12-09T08:43:54.644-08:00ALiluIt's not about the mango tree in our backyard nor about its mangoes,it's about the li'l squirrel relishing it. <br /> :)<br /><br><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1KCPP4qokk_EgHfTrroDdButIF5TvKz5TS0gepvuhGGi_ml1mM88pq7hhqe5xr0OyPAB8I-M-jmXBn_va2pT0k1EXtK9c9Fbnmn3_9xOH2qYh5zK862swkCgVYYxK3ldHfpC8P5CAcUEM/s1600-h/Caught+you!+(1).JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1KCPP4qokk_EgHfTrroDdButIF5TvKz5TS0gepvuhGGi_ml1mM88pq7hhqe5xr0OyPAB8I-M-jmXBn_va2pT0k1EXtK9c9Fbnmn3_9xOH2qYh5zK862swkCgVYYxK3ldHfpC8P5CAcUEM/s400/Caught+you!+(1).JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207312094058593122" /></a><br /><br><br>Sanahahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14393295978017490189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7455899677620819283.post-81301801121438530412008-05-17T23:42:00.000-07:002008-12-09T08:43:54.934-08:00The first SIN<img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/nikhil/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /><img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/nikhil/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.jpg" alt="" /><img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/nikhil/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-2.jpg" alt="" /><img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/nikhil/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-3.jpg" alt="" /><span style="font-family:georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;"><br />Black as the devil, Hot as hell,<br />Pure as an angel, Sweet as love.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTUS2zSFcAeAF25_qbzXieT-c9JswB39y8ep8_QLN_vgA0wuoG2T0KtuUj7me75zempOFB2XfB2JS52EGfW_wzA9vIOsQLgPvzVCNoc5Dmk3YzyS35V97QonGUTa-Yi6CFyB5SZUAEUkNe/s1600-h/457px-Foaming_filter_coffee.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 349px; height: 457px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTUS2zSFcAeAF25_qbzXieT-c9JswB39y8ep8_QLN_vgA0wuoG2T0KtuUj7me75zempOFB2XfB2JS52EGfW_wzA9vIOsQLgPvzVCNoc5Dmk3YzyS35V97QonGUTa-Yi6CFyB5SZUAEUkNe/s320/457px-Foaming_filter_coffee.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201605080800213074" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgG_zmiv1XEMlYMl3lGCPUVi5fbFaUo1_KXBJX1CvqkkQZ6wIAP4oDYXD6aB-fm8FF9Fq27ZE4mfuNOoSWyxIgad0IrExzSmrphw2hnckrBOJuidsD4T4MLgUzGK_ZpgOYJRZ87o1YerGB/s1600-h/RainyDayInJuly.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 309px; height: 456px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgG_zmiv1XEMlYMl3lGCPUVi5fbFaUo1_KXBJX1CvqkkQZ6wIAP4oDYXD6aB-fm8FF9Fq27ZE4mfuNOoSWyxIgad0IrExzSmrphw2hnckrBOJuidsD4T4MLgUzGK_ZpgOYJRZ87o1YerGB/s320/RainyDayInJuly.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201605072210278466" border="0" /></a>silk smitha and disco shantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10606946403550014636noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7455899677620819283.post-9914879178712664002008-05-17T08:26:00.000-07:002008-05-17T08:34:19.884-07:00Why...??Being the fuss most of us are about food, drink, clothes and almost about everything other thing, the thought of appreciating the finer things in life is always lost on us. That unknown girl's face, that strangers smell, that perfume which left a faint odor, that child's laugh, that small cup of coffee which cures any headache......this blog is like an ode to these things we experience and forget. This is a blog to appreciate the subtlety in all that is there.<br />And as all ways, people can join in on this blog and put up their posts.silk smitha and disco shantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10606946403550014636noreply@blogger.com1