tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90312149685252293732024-03-05T13:54:12.657-08:00Breathless SoulSpreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.comBlogger72125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-10670482639708919292012-10-08T23:47:00.003-07:002012-10-12T21:24:11.330-07:00Someone else's dream...<div><div><p>Ink stops flowing, words halt.<br>
Everything restricts, everything repeats.<br>
I see her happily beaming at him,<br>
And someone else is living my dream.</p>
<p>She looks at me from far below,<br>
I appear nonchalant, I go with the stream.<br>
I am the pinnacle I don't want to be,<br>
I am living someone else's dream.</p>
<p>Why would anyone want to be,<br>
Realization suddenly dawns on me.<br>
This is a real world and it's my reality,<br>
But certainly, I am living someone else's dream.</p>
<p>I live her dream, she lives mine.<br>
But she is what I want to be,<br>
Suddenly, its too late to realiz<br>
That I too, am someone else's dream.</p>
<p>Spree</p>
</div></div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-13196578464917596632012-10-08T23:47:00.001-07:002012-10-08T23:47:44.202-07:00A curious case of missing Felix Felicis<div><p>Felix Felicis, as all Harry Potter fans would know, is a potion of luck, it makes the drinker lucky till its in their body system. <br>
Well, it seems today that it has disappeared from Harry's world and has come into mine. It is my time to shine today, as Homer puts it, Spree's 'aristeia'. Anyhow, who would have thought that sharing an auto with a complete stranger would make you a receiver of random acts of kindness from nature and it would make you realize that 'Nice' still exists in the world, eh?<br>
What happens when its an open book test of the most difficult novel in your course and you haven't even touched it? Let alone giving an open book test, you don't even know which chapter contains what? You come all prepared to cheat and the teacher gives test questions as an assignment and well, the test gets postponed till next week. Unbelievable, right?<br>
The best part? I have been able to write after a long hiatus. The way h like it. Inspired and unstoppable. Ink flows from my pen and I couldn't be more glad. <br>
I have an assignment to submit and a spanish test tomorrow. I wish to turn them around and procastinate them too. With my luck for a few hours that have been passed away on this day, who knows it might come to be true after all? Harry won't even miss his Felix Felicis for a day but I can definitely use some.</p>
<p>Spree</p>
</div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-2186351497593634722012-09-09T22:26:00.001-07:002012-09-09T22:26:31.678-07:00I wish...<div><p>The red lake stares at me unflinchingly. It mocks me, declaring that what was mine yesterday is not mine to keep anymore. As I bend over it, it forms a puddle. Stoically, I muse over my glorious days. Proud as I was, waving and flicking my own ruby jewels, never did I think that they would be stolen away so quickly and easily. I might get everything back but not my own jewels, I let myself indulge in wishful thinking. What does a woman wish for? I wish for something that's now impossible, well out of my reach. My own longing makes me aware of my own futility, my own rampant materialistic desire. But we are mere mortals, aren't we? </p>
<p>Spree</p>
<p>P.S this is a totally unedited post. I have written it in a daze, in a Classical literature's class. I had a vision in mind while writing this. Eventhough I am not sharing it here, I would love to know your point of view. Tell me, What is the woman wishing for? :-) </p>
</div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-17043941385381036242012-06-02T13:18:00.000-07:002012-06-02T13:18:31.626-07:00What's in my Bag?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">It feels so long that I wrote anything on my blog. Exams, Short road trips, Catching up with sleep and playing with my dog, All these kept me busy and away from writing. I received some mails from you guys that missed my blog and its freshness (I loved the line, Cass!). It should have been a grease of salt on my pain but I was so happy that I decided to do a personal write up here.I am back and how. I was catching up with some blog reading and I see there is a trend going around with the bloggers to write about<b> "What's in their bag".</b><br />
<br />
<b></b>It caught my attention and here I am, with my own version and my bag contents. :-) Read on...<br />
<br />
I have this cute Mustard Baggit bag, an extendable sling with gives me a feel of Hermione's Extendable bag. (Though it can't hold up unlimited amount of stuff, I love to have the feel of it anyway)<br />
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I keep make up essentials in my bag. Life in a metro can be pretty thick and when you look good, You feel good. There is my Maybelline gel eyeliner which NEVER smudges (Pinky swear) and it relieves me of my burden of reapplying kohl every two hours and again, BB cream which actually has 8 goodies packed in one. Moisturizer, Sunscreen, Foundation and Blah! Using it is a habit now and it conceals my patchy skin, so good enough eh?<br />
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I love my Aviator sunglasses. They are so chick and amazing, they almost cover up all of my face and protect me from the blazing sunlight and well, they are so trendy that my friends keep asking me to lend it to them or well, Gift it to them on their birthday. Yeah, my own. Sigh.<br />
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Since I love writing and ideas pop so unexpectedly that you can't help but write it, I hate typing on a touch phone which I am currently using so I have a cute diary, made by rural empowered women, some colored pens and some book. I always have a book lest I get bored in the Metro and start reading it. I am currently reading the Professor by Charlotte bronte and it truly is a classic. I love it. It's a recommendation, yes. :)<br />
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Since you might not know already, I am a foodie. I love popping something in between classes, conversations and what works better than a sugar kick in middle of a random, boring day. I love these Ice breaker sours I bought from a store a month ago, It says its Sugar free but we all know it isn't. I can Guarantee it is worth every penny you spend on it.<br />
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What else? I keep my Wallet of course. It has Cash, Metro card, some random bills and my pen drive. A sanitizer, my lucky charm a little Hanumanji who works as a charmer that he already is and cheers me up, Some fresh wipes because you really can't leave in my city without Fresh wipes. Scorching heat will burn you up and even before you reach home, You would be toasted up and totally be ready to eat food material.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaZD86kmr2k2t1PQl0WLRuXn9w6JbUWFDfzMwZNeSZE7mfGeS8YsnDM9HTR1G0ao5llZdEuYDhxW9gb6jR96BUehpz0SyoJUPgro_r3NvqlvUTnOHqXRbh2Qayfqtfse73RW4Nj5q9ztxV/s1600/IMG_20120603_001847.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaZD86kmr2k2t1PQl0WLRuXn9w6JbUWFDfzMwZNeSZE7mfGeS8YsnDM9HTR1G0ao5llZdEuYDhxW9gb6jR96BUehpz0SyoJUPgro_r3NvqlvUTnOHqXRbh2Qayfqtfse73RW4Nj5q9ztxV/s320/IMG_20120603_001847.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirgO1f_mtzFmlsfWIrbDoEB-85Xdg-DOTQBqt3NxDSLrSRU-tM3hzGaMJjqBs_PrBY8hTHOBfTSFDJH2s-vkuj1BoRL_96sUHGGCyNyslbHQrrtsXwEQ_BebAF7b9zFxZBeTthhT_bsqWj/s1600/IMG_20120603_000928.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirgO1f_mtzFmlsfWIrbDoEB-85Xdg-DOTQBqt3NxDSLrSRU-tM3hzGaMJjqBs_PrBY8hTHOBfTSFDJH2s-vkuj1BoRL_96sUHGGCyNyslbHQrrtsXwEQ_BebAF7b9zFxZBeTthhT_bsqWj/s320/IMG_20120603_000928.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Oh Oh and there is this little seeti (Whistle or better still, I call it PheePhee) my brother gave me as a souvenir of my Chandigarh trip, No I didn't enjoy much and the PheePhee is ordinary and we got it out of a Fun Flips pack, I am in love with the colors, the sound and the hell it irritates out of people. It's shrill, Harsh, gives me a kick and almost like me when I am in a bad mood. :-)<br />
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That's about it. What are your bag contents?<br />
<br />
shoot me a mail.<br />
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Take care<br />
Spree </div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-18975155425378715382012-03-13T11:52:00.002-07:002012-05-26T05:51:31.741-07:00Of Unnamed love and loss<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBYFpuEEeEUzQgOVjTJ_6gt2WhZ5GZVz_-fzo5aEAynCJh15b9T0lhwK_tQjEgy2KrAzlp6eRwpbfQC2mR1JK1KQVm1Y2w8iZaGl_0iiqbEHMXDmzIjINCtPFri6CcDQVTCXAI6EqZCKKa/s1600/suicide.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBYFpuEEeEUzQgOVjTJ_6gt2WhZ5GZVz_-fzo5aEAynCJh15b9T0lhwK_tQjEgy2KrAzlp6eRwpbfQC2mR1JK1KQVm1Y2w8iZaGl_0iiqbEHMXDmzIjINCtPFri6CcDQVTCXAI6EqZCKKa/s320/suicide.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="msg 1st"><br />
</div><div class="msg 1st"><br />
</div><div class="msg 1st">She had just read that morning, a quote by einstein that read- if you can't explain it simply, you don't understand it well enough yourself. In a moment like that, all she could remember was this. She went to wash her face, to cool herself down with the running water.</div><div class="msg 1st"><br />
</div><div class="msg 1st"><br />
</div><div class="msg Nth"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUwo2ybjBmIgHp-QT1yEb4qstR3ualJ5Mjp6_M1JICfNtLVe2B0sjFDFr-fR9gSHI8bt7AECjnHhguMhxdSpoL4n7otqVeJWFIiQig0jEDG4CESxMy2DUbwaze-5ZkMBjuafX4wWfsUSM0/s1600/Suicide_Girls_Contest_4_by_lexarexa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUwo2ybjBmIgHp-QT1yEb4qstR3ualJ5Mjp6_M1JICfNtLVe2B0sjFDFr-fR9gSHI8bt7AECjnHhguMhxdSpoL4n7otqVeJWFIiQig0jEDG4CESxMy2DUbwaze-5ZkMBjuafX4wWfsUSM0/s320/Suicide_Girls_Contest_4_by_lexarexa.jpg" width="320" /></a>Instead, she looked in the mirror. her own eyes bloodshot, hair rakish. "I know it simply enough." she could explain it to herself, others she wasn't sure. She had never seen him, met him, never heard his voice, never heard of him from any of his friends but she knew him well enough. She loved him. Was that what pain was? what she went through? Splashing water through the face just to make way for a fresh batch of hot tears. She had talked to him of every minute about her life. She felt him, secured him so deeply in her heart taht nobody could ever take place of him, she knew he wasn't handsome. She never cared. Not rich, she wasn't bothered. She had been camouflaging her usual chirpy self in front of everyone, she know beheld her soul naked in front of her eyes.</div><div class="msg Nth"><br />
</div><div class="msg Nth"><br />
</div><div class="msg Nth">She didn't like what she saw. Smeared kohl, quivering lips, runny nose. yes, she was a writer and yet words didn't come easily to her. Love never came naturally to her but when she did, it hit her with full force. She craved for a man she no longer knew, for he was changed. what caused him to drive away, she knew not. Fear of her love or infidelity. She seeked shelter. she seeked peace. In death. In blood. With a sardonic smile, no ifs no buts, she held her wrist, got it cut and she quit.<br />
<br />
<br />
Spree</div></div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-50599206886268277632012-03-09T10:07:00.000-08:002012-03-09T10:07:07.641-08:00Fate<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8-3pc1jJkOLyjZXCHEhZoSYr5dbREnzrIzZ65PlJKrYj0YFWBI6q77-TfYome54fk5MYRExfC_Zu6bSeq_XRaxmW7qqnwvNQTutWfdYL5akYRN_hnV_75h6UN0MiPyJZpnLeGZ0o9mPB7/s1600/ksg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8-3pc1jJkOLyjZXCHEhZoSYr5dbREnzrIzZ65PlJKrYj0YFWBI6q77-TfYome54fk5MYRExfC_Zu6bSeq_XRaxmW7qqnwvNQTutWfdYL5akYRN_hnV_75h6UN0MiPyJZpnLeGZ0o9mPB7/s320/ksg.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">I saw him, </div><div style="text-align: center;">I liked him; Now his</div><div style="text-align: center;">fate is sealed. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Ananya</div></div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-24779995357755859582012-03-01T08:28:00.000-08:002012-03-01T08:28:45.929-08:00Spring<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvR32JPMGdznOFDxs8IF1p0tr_0DqB3BU-v7YrDsNVwbaxXKLLsE6ILAD0KLlb_AHUMJ6VTugdQ5r4EpzCztmVkNEXuuBx5lgFilPs1gn5gbMfaRGZjnK9GgzMrWGnA-8bx2KzQDLxmLBX/s1600/mothergothel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvR32JPMGdznOFDxs8IF1p0tr_0DqB3BU-v7YrDsNVwbaxXKLLsE6ILAD0KLlb_AHUMJ6VTugdQ5r4EpzCztmVkNEXuuBx5lgFilPs1gn5gbMfaRGZjnK9GgzMrWGnA-8bx2KzQDLxmLBX/s1600/mothergothel.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Forever alone,</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </span></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><div style="text-align: center;">the spring of my youth</div></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><div style="text-align: center;">is gone.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Ananya</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">(And yes, since haiku are a huge part of what I am, I won't ever write them under Spree. Take Care =) )</div></span></div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-41705598404190199112012-02-27T10:50:00.000-08:002012-02-27T10:50:12.150-08:00A case of unlucky birthdays<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">I write this post exactly after a month on this blog, not because I had nothing interesting to write on but because of crunch of time. Hitherto, the crunch was due to procrastination, I won’t let it affect me lest I stop writing. Basically, I have a theory. Birthdays are unlucky. Every time on my birthday, something bad happens with me. This time- My blackberry broke down and I am back on my boring Nokia phone. </div><div class="MsoNormal">I am dizzy as I write this because I am in a very boring conference, realizing how lame birthdays are. A birthday is a day to spend in solitude, not necessarily alone and do what you love. The concept of birthdays has been overhyped and sensationalized. The wishes upon candles don’t really come true and the day is spent well…doing nothing. Come think of it, what did I do exactly? Nothing substantial. Nothing I wanted to. Are birthdays any good anymore?</div><div class="MsoNormal">I used to look forward to my birthday as a kid all the year and now, I dread the date for no particular reason. But then again, when the ever optimistic I return, I reckon that birthdays are not so bad after all. </div><div class="MsoNormal">You get to spend the entire day with your best friend; your friends treat you like princess. <b> </b>Also, on which other day do you feel you are blessed with people in your life who are there to wish you good luck on a special day? I got over a hundred messages on FB and more than three score of wishes on phone. No, I didn’t get a cake but I got to cut a pizza instead. I didn’t get to blow candles on my birthday but I got to blow imaginary candles on an apple tart. </div><div class="MsoNormal">I have to see the best in everything right? My students gave a surprise by showing up with loads of goodies and a big cute card. We got a double McDonald’s treat and I saw a Damon Salvatore Doppelganger in the metro. What more could I ask for? </div><div class="MsoNormal">Yes, it was unlucky in some ways but most of it was worth the praise. I am blessed, for the people in my life who make it beautiful. Many colorful hues, in one journey of my life. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Xoxo</div><div class="MsoNormal">Spree.</div></div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-33032310537006267282012-01-27T02:55:00.000-08:002012-01-27T02:55:16.308-08:00Not so Happy Birthday, blog!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMCD07y8gottnAq1JtyCzLSDn2A4fspZ7cVxlYaIsM0s9ghLjwTPluAbKsh4PQfOyGnkZdn9S_nM8lqQJRasGuVyTCkZcg3w8C2wgRuHNP7TNOvZb2kXLGhKi6rZyaCnP78r9b2cRQJCOS/s1600/versary.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMCD07y8gottnAq1JtyCzLSDn2A4fspZ7cVxlYaIsM0s9ghLjwTPluAbKsh4PQfOyGnkZdn9S_nM8lqQJRasGuVyTCkZcg3w8C2wgRuHNP7TNOvZb2kXLGhKi6rZyaCnP78r9b2cRQJCOS/s1600/versary.jpg" /></a></div><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;"><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">What do you do when you have a horribly bad mood and your most prized possession turns two the next day? Do you not celebrate it or celebrate in a full mood so that maybe you feel happy? I had many plans in mind for the time my blog turns two. Those have seemed to vanish in thick air. Its uncanny how your plans change when life happens. Well, I have always believed that the more you plan, the harder the destiny hits you. I tend to forget it sometimes but that's okay, events keep happening to remind of the same.</span></b></span><br />
<b><span style="color: #cc0000;"><br style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;" /><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Anyhow, like always, as a custom, I have to thank a few people who have helped me reach as many followers as I have today, though the ones who actually read are only a handful, I can count them on one finger. Thanks Leo, for the incredible haiku prompts that make me think.</span></span></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;"> Thanks to Sookie, who has made me write in the REAL sense of it.</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;"> Thanks to NJ, whose writings have inspired me always. </span></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">Cheers, who with one guest post had given my blog its share of fifteen minutes of fame.</span></b></span><br />
<b><span style="color: #cc0000;"><br style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;" /><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Thanks to Gulzarsaab, whose lyrics make me cry and pine for NOT writing like this, I never can match you, Sir. To Salim Merchant and Sulaiman, I love your songs.</span></span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #cc0000;"><br style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;" /><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Thanks for all my fictional friends, you have been there when I needed you the most, always. You never leave my side even when I am not ME.</span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Thanks for all your support, I hope you keep reading it, let the love touch me and take me out of this cynic mode</span> </span></b><br />
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</div><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><i>Here's what Leo has to say of my blog. I consider it an honor that he writes here, so when I get old, the technological changes render me helpless, I can still have a hard copy of my yesteryears, of my glory days. I think I would miss all of this at that time and Sometime, they would make my life a little more bearable than it is today.</i></span></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">OK… I’ll start off on this guest post for Miss Spree by telling I have no idea what to write. Seriously! It’s been ages since I wrote a guest post for an anniversary of a blog. And this blog has been known to me mainly through the haiku she writes for my meme, Haiku Heights; and I know Spree mainly through her tweets and virtual voice. </span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">She herself would admit that of late, she has been feeling a little unlike her usual chirpy and bubbly self. We all have our own problems, and I can relate to the feeling of total disregard to happiness that she has been finding lately. I told her too, and she sort of cheered up when I told her she was being un-Spree-ish; to the extent that she has decided to go ahead with this celebration almost full-heartedly rather than a little forced. I’m glad for that, because a blog birthday is sort of a milestone. To go a few months without quitting is one thing; to come through multiple years is something worth mentioning. I hope she doesn’t lose that cheerfulness in her, that passion for writing and sharing something from her life’s journey in her own style. There will come a time in life when even that virtual aura of Spree will seem afar for her, uncomforting… but I urge her not to quit on herself, or on Spree. I’m sure anyone who reads her will surely agree with me when I say she has got lots and lots of talent in her, and many words that she would be delighted to share with us. My message and request to her would be:</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">Go past your sorrow</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">For a smile will come your way</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">Ease heartbeats again</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">I find the best hopes</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">Hidden deep in my pen’s ink</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">Write it out and see</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">Your joys are nearby</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">Just lost in light of darkness</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">Seek, and you will find</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">Coming to her blog, I know it as I told, for a long time now. I known it since it was called, “Breathless Soul”. It is a fine place to find some haiku, some of which are so mature and deep, it captures the mind. It’s a delight to write here, and share a few thoughts. I myself have changed the name of my blog so often, but in the end, I always return to the one I used first. I feel that it holds a special place in the heart, because what we write out without thinking is what we want to be written out, rather than the ones which need so much thought. Similarly, I, for one, would request to her that she returns to the first name, “Breathless Soul” which so reflects who she is, what her virtual aura portrays. I keep my words to that, and wish the blog many more birthdays to come. </span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">Does a name matter?</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">I think it does, my dear friend</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">It speaks of your soul</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">I wish all your joys</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">Little as they might now feel</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">To grace your aura</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;"><br />
On this blog birthday</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">Let idiosyncracies</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">Be breathless again</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;"><o:p> </o:p><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Wishing this blog by a good friend a happy 2nd birthday and more to come, with lots of haiku. My message for her, is quite evident. I wish her happiness, joy and whatever good I can think of in this small write of mine, and also wish the blog become its original name again, for I think it reflects her a lot.</span></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;"><br />
</span></b></span></div><b><span style="color: #274e13;"> </span></b><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">Bye, and once again, thanks for the honor of guest posting on your blog’s birthday, Spree.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div></div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-16521132317167633572012-01-22T03:43:00.000-08:002012-01-22T03:43:18.389-08:00Tiptoe<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyufga6oxzRd4bs2DJ7UxR6Mx61i0TtKnFWokv-irtqRHqaN0ra2elJtnt85uYdtrmS9la__sbZhNP6XDlsE-SUCodj2WeGfZ89zK30D7e-58rd8PT1wX7qTmmp3NgWtibAsZfub7mOFaG/s1600/tiptoe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyufga6oxzRd4bs2DJ7UxR6Mx61i0TtKnFWokv-irtqRHqaN0ra2elJtnt85uYdtrmS9la__sbZhNP6XDlsE-SUCodj2WeGfZ89zK30D7e-58rd8PT1wX7qTmmp3NgWtibAsZfub7mOFaG/s320/tiptoe.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Like I </div><div style="text-align: center;">tiptoed in your life, I </div><div style="text-align: center;">will exit it. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">Spree</div></div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-85949893274236667362012-01-21T08:49:00.000-08:002012-01-21T08:49:07.370-08:00Happy day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5cL9zP1cqltrpqP4dNfhQJJG-S7GEf9h66I9dZDDdwJRDzhKC1inNskb1fQPcWjqsNmwX5uuErlJLQlKYegQnJQOH10qFVsFheSBEcwm_qI15HwxSFySS5UAgMepv4_lsXNIWNAoTmueQ/s1600/sigh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5cL9zP1cqltrpqP4dNfhQJJG-S7GEf9h66I9dZDDdwJRDzhKC1inNskb1fQPcWjqsNmwX5uuErlJLQlKYegQnJQOH10qFVsFheSBEcwm_qI15HwxSFySS5UAgMepv4_lsXNIWNAoTmueQ/s1600/sigh.jpg" /></a></div><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Sometimes, when you wake up and look in a mirror with groggy eyes, you know in your heart its going to be a good day. That day, you don't recognize the person you see in the mirror, the anonymous smile leaves you flushed, without a reason. Well, come think of it, you know its your day when you get your favorite breakfast. When no one argues with you for a change, when you shop till the last penny is exhausted. When you have your favorite food all day, followed by a Ginger Ale. Also, when you look so happy that mirror refuses to recognize that its the usual groggy YOU. When you get your favorite songs and an impromptu rain makes your night, even though its biting cold outside. The smell of damp soil fill your entire room for a night and you get to watch the latest movie with a CHAI LATTE. All rolled up in an entire day! You know its a good day, you want all days like these. After a long dry spell, your day feels like bliss. You plan your life better, live better, live simpler, with minimal expectations later, If only for a day. That, my friend, is the time of your life.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;" /><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">I wanted to capture this day in my mind to be etched in my memory forever. A Happy day. Feels heaven, doesn't it?</span> </div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-15794176014581116252011-12-19T08:06:00.000-08:002011-12-19T08:06:15.201-08:00Lucky Charm<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ84bZ-6jQLrNNrd7f6kfUd9e_o15Ohyuukn0ozqc0bClDCkPiMuucdrY9J1Co7aS4cjitInILBHTirjbS3OeTa0Eh5uTLv0h-huUw5XxuT_Rjucw74cq_tKYOs_TJaOj7Tg5BUCUXWq6K/s1600/mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ84bZ-6jQLrNNrd7f6kfUd9e_o15Ohyuukn0ozqc0bClDCkPiMuucdrY9J1Co7aS4cjitInILBHTirjbS3OeTa0Eh5uTLv0h-huUw5XxuT_Rjucw74cq_tKYOs_TJaOj7Tg5BUCUXWq6K/s320/mom.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Its often that we hear.. Be grateful for what you have. Or be careful what you wish for, it might just come true. Sitting back one night, I began wishing for magic. Pure magic in my life. What is the harm in asking for some sprinkle of the zest of abracabra in my world, eh? Nothing bad. Magic didn't happen. Well, it didn't. It broke my heart badly. I have a theory that god can't see me happy so he carefully pricks where it hurts most. Before sleeping, I pray. Just a little that helps me have a good nap, a nap without horrendous dreams. I prayed for the magic again. That night, in my dreams, I saw my little dog, when he was a month old.. Learning to climb stairs, yes, I was the one who taught him how to climb stairs but didn't teach how to use them to go downstairs too. A little later, I saw two men wishing me good luck before each and every important event of my life, a competition, an exam or anything that makes me nervous. One of them, says I am proud of you and that makes me the happiest girl in the world. The other one is the one I love the most in the world, no one can shake my faith in any of them. Those two men, needless to say, are my two brothers, who mean the world to me. And yet again, I see a woman, who slaps me when I am wrong and then feeds me with her own hands because she can't eat before I eat. (She has to check the food supply of the entire clan after I eat.) She is my mother, the ONLY one who takes care of what I am and what I want, its always about me when I am with her. And there is this guy. I am ME when I am with him. He encourages me with intelligent talks, he is my teacher, a friend, a lover. He dreams what I dream and HE makes sure I achieve them. He talks to me when I am afraid, explains the little somethings that mean a lot later in life. He is my soul. My conscience. The world doesn't know him, he is protected safely in the chambers of my heart beat, lives with my heartbeat.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;" /><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Waking up, I didn't realize what the dream was about. Then I know. Magic happened. I knew what my miracle was. I was blessed with what people call family, I call them lucky charms. The world is materialistic, has various stones et al as charms, my charms live with me always. My miracles understand life and share it with me everyday. It is a formality to say that I love them, because it's stronger than that. I would rather say I BELIEVE in them, therefore they are. What the world calls as people, I name them my Serendipity.</span> <br />
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</div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-4285381117614334562011-12-14T11:26:00.000-08:002011-12-14T11:26:48.963-08:00Miracle<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Thursday Tales prompt by missrockstarr<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMT6yOxD45h_qIQfVZG8CS0aSARQMxuvyjYJbZXNYott9d8hPES06YP2VkA5lZNy-0oERaD8oCoiYgXQ8t_0556PDj5nYlJxJXdTg2G5BA7aRrjvbPR7HOAu2Lobf_EMYlRM1kRK_YueBy/s1600/photography_by_missrockstarr-d3eu1g5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMT6yOxD45h_qIQfVZG8CS0aSARQMxuvyjYJbZXNYott9d8hPES06YP2VkA5lZNy-0oERaD8oCoiYgXQ8t_0556PDj5nYlJxJXdTg2G5BA7aRrjvbPR7HOAu2Lobf_EMYlRM1kRK_YueBy/s320/photography_by_missrockstarr-d3eu1g5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Take my hand and guide me.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I want to be caged in your heart like a bird.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Shush me with a kiss tonight, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">let my lips escape no word</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Days will be better only if YOU are here.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> Stay by me if life is too hard to bear.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> Forgive me of this never ending craze.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> When life is too tough to handle,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> for survival, we will find our ways</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Why do you feel you are sorry-sad?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I am there to hold your hand. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Close your eyes and go there, shine.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Welcoming arms wait you here, what are you, if not mine?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Some call me arrogant, some call me a geek</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">. Would you ever understand, I wonder, what I seek? </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">And then you suddenly call me your love.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> I smile, shake my head and send a thanks up above</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Spree</span></div></div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-39521654422901157472011-12-10T01:40:00.000-08:002011-12-10T02:52:08.175-08:00A few of my favorite things<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><i><br />
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<i>Someone asked me a few days back about my favorite things. That three year old kid apparently had to do his homework for school, interview people about their favorite things. To make him get going as soon as possible, I listed out a few random things that came in my mind- Ice creams, books, Romantic movies, Jewelry, Iced tea et al. He went home happy munching on the Kitkat I gave him. </i><br />
<i>But at night, when the whole world slept, darkness as usual scared the hell out of me and I got around thinking of my favorite things. What would actually make me happy?</i><br />
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1. <b>World peace</b>? My world is peaceful in its own shell, Thank you very much, the change I need in the world is not to be seen around for many more decades to come.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5T1RyEGUZpEUkodc1-iMrEhxRqHDSnV67IIy8T1b46eO2Rz3Eg3gVHUdDUHbV5tU-zifQT6GnIfj7jQKxZezqKmMgMmtYDkEc-H0xWuS5gHuYn9dvnFauGYCLsIogb6FoBUjErK2Dnspl/s1600/icecream.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5T1RyEGUZpEUkodc1-iMrEhxRqHDSnV67IIy8T1b46eO2Rz3Eg3gVHUdDUHbV5tU-zifQT6GnIfj7jQKxZezqKmMgMmtYDkEc-H0xWuS5gHuYn9dvnFauGYCLsIogb6FoBUjErK2Dnspl/s200/icecream.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
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2. Ice creams? They give me momentary satisfaction, yes, but then it finishes too soon.<b>Blackcurrant ice</b> <b>cream</b>. If I ever become an ice cream vendor, the kids are NEVER going to get any of it, I am going to slurp it all.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5K_IRioG8eOO3XLlfYryWw9UMT1OgNEp9b6pShROYZgiGjrgoMJreYV3PD39_I2xExTpF4R8xIHFTHviiQuNHZsTMhWdagRYBlMGRsW3KKaW28wN8elBCUov-_2WiLPUen1kbMDTHgKe0/s1600/earrings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5K_IRioG8eOO3XLlfYryWw9UMT1OgNEp9b6pShROYZgiGjrgoMJreYV3PD39_I2xExTpF4R8xIHFTHviiQuNHZsTMhWdagRYBlMGRsW3KKaW28wN8elBCUov-_2WiLPUen1kbMDTHgKe0/s200/earrings.jpg" width="133" /></a>3. Jewelry? Only when I am in a good mood. Not otherwise. I can buy<b> Earrings </b>anytime, anywhere if I find a good pair, usage depends. :)<br />
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4. Everybody love their<b> friends</b> but I yearn for <b>solitude</b> too.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ALA7j9czb1XOlB5i72jtSCYDFux6bGRW0rVhIqQcdUwyzEXU2vUadnNIxxcOBEdNUL7ZwLpAchTf-42PbgvzmSvNFTb_gQxmS35OyyYlc60Rw43PXzBm7FqI6iu_PGi9jcwV4JOkyZJw/s1600/books.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ALA7j9czb1XOlB5i72jtSCYDFux6bGRW0rVhIqQcdUwyzEXU2vUadnNIxxcOBEdNUL7ZwLpAchTf-42PbgvzmSvNFTb_gQxmS35OyyYlc60Rw43PXzBm7FqI6iu_PGi9jcwV4JOkyZJw/s200/books.jpg" width="190" /></a></div>5. <b>Books</b>, only when the hero rescues the <b>princess </b>and they live happily ever after. Oh well, That's me.<br />
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6. I love <b>travelling,</b> Seriously I do. I have motion sickness but without caring about it, I think of the new interactions with people and environment and I feel happy.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA6Oi6QOgFlVLUWth-VvV9KwxMXGFvKbY7v8p76p1JO-9dUnOAkqTIN6KhAOt1pyWWK6OQoytk5514ylXgo4Y0KxYgXLjrIma4_MhCR7f9hEncDeGu8pA74q5SVLs51uN0UFGrG3OO_8hP/s1600/archies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA6Oi6QOgFlVLUWth-VvV9KwxMXGFvKbY7v8p76p1JO-9dUnOAkqTIN6KhAOt1pyWWK6OQoytk5514ylXgo4Y0KxYgXLjrIma4_MhCR7f9hEncDeGu8pA74q5SVLs51uN0UFGrG3OO_8hP/s200/archies.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>7. <b>Archie's Comics</b> make my day. Anytime, Gimme one, If you want me to keep quiet and I will happily engage myself with Juggie's gluttony and Betty-Veronica's fights. Archie, the main character is not my favorite. Overrated. <b>Jughead</b> is cute.<br />
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8. I love my dog- <b>Cheers</b>, that's his name. Jee Haan. His antics, Tail wagging, Ears twitching is somewhat I will always enjoy, No matter what my mood is. <a href="http://rawconviviality.blogspot.com/search/label/Cheers%20%22cheerful%22%20Tales" target="_blank">An insight to Cheer's life. </a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuvykS8mHnXNW_mCQO15qhyphenhyphenUELc8CAgpYMMkFSm2LDT3qFnCPZxKULT9-2q7Nt3WwNGmB-SGtNBHTWaPpq3JAptG65nUoqamrGLxOzKpnDFjTOg6X8djjK0gEdy0p6aAKOvjz1iSPEyRJv/s1600/shoes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuvykS8mHnXNW_mCQO15qhyphenhyphenUELc8CAgpYMMkFSm2LDT3qFnCPZxKULT9-2q7Nt3WwNGmB-SGtNBHTWaPpq3JAptG65nUoqamrGLxOzKpnDFjTOg6X8djjK0gEdy0p6aAKOvjz1iSPEyRJv/s200/shoes.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>9<b>. Shoes</b>. Sigh. I have<b> 49 pair of shoes</b> but they are not enough. I keep breaking the buckle or sole, the color fades but still, I keep them and keep buying more. A good pair of footwear is always welcomed.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWAVF-yyPlm21UApCG-mvNUu6r5ObvlvtJ0-rAS3NET9lkmM28KaI93qwjrx7VCrGY3bAXdZQvzR3hyREo00EwDeo741sk3OPnq3Fn6ITs2S7TcUywRejuNTW27ZeCPF1UtqR2LIndnLlu/s1600/rain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWAVF-yyPlm21UApCG-mvNUu6r5ObvlvtJ0-rAS3NET9lkmM28KaI93qwjrx7VCrGY3bAXdZQvzR3hyREo00EwDeo741sk3OPnq3Fn6ITs2S7TcUywRejuNTW27ZeCPF1UtqR2LIndnLlu/s200/rain.jpg" width="166" /></a><br />
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10. <b>Rain,</b> The best of all. I love it. There was a phase when I started getting annoyed by the constant loud spattering but now, I enjoy it too. Rain is almost spiritual for me. It gives me a sense of <b>hope</b>, of constant companionship, of music.<br />
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11. Lastly, I can always use a <b>smile. </b>Silly grins, mysterious smile, The smile that makes people think you have lost it, Dreamy smile, All's well. Particularly, I love the grin when someone is drunk and is trying to act all sensible and NON-goofy but he goofs up anyway. My brother does that, I laugh when he does that. I can SEE he is drunk but NEVER EVER would I let the elders rebuke him. Our defense mechanism you see. <b>My favorite thing in the world</b>? All my loved ones laughing together, The joke is always on me, I feel bad obviously but the incredible smile is to be cherished, always.<br />
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Keep smiling always,<br />
Spree.</div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-6790169919735853612011-12-09T07:02:00.000-08:002011-12-09T07:02:13.116-08:00Space<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_NPl5UvLDVKvdRzp2Rb44Gv4UUZEV1Dw0sIUNTvtnJ3TwW21Ef1Cp27A020zyk38xEst3a-dKEEoW1qIU0NcD-0xTcsXtiI4IUqV-ME5Wlggd1EiTRsurCSrtwcOx42DbBIK-_g8ZvOPx/s1600/frustrated_woman__computer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_NPl5UvLDVKvdRzp2Rb44Gv4UUZEV1Dw0sIUNTvtnJ3TwW21Ef1Cp27A020zyk38xEst3a-dKEEoW1qIU0NcD-0xTcsXtiI4IUqV-ME5Wlggd1EiTRsurCSrtwcOx42DbBIK-_g8ZvOPx/s320/frustrated_woman__computer.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">I am sick</div><div style="text-align: center;">and sad, please give </div><div style="text-align: center;">me my space!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Ananya</div></div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-34225808558086613212011-11-13T07:46:00.000-08:002011-11-13T07:46:34.477-08:00Obsessed<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXvSijXNkhv3cmzzITZDhzC1z08RYWWqidLNw5piWNn4QdJBd-frW01-o9Q8M2IdThGSVwqiy5RjwR8fyOlOF2srUidyHTL6jQSeQmDWFu8Wb7Zf8p9dR4rlEYSvS6XByYMeNq3Z1xWVjh/s1600/gems.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXvSijXNkhv3cmzzITZDhzC1z08RYWWqidLNw5piWNn4QdJBd-frW01-o9Q8M2IdThGSVwqiy5RjwR8fyOlOF2srUidyHTL6jQSeQmDWFu8Wb7Zf8p9dR4rlEYSvS6XByYMeNq3Z1xWVjh/s1600/gems.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Yellow, red, pink</div><div style="text-align: center;">Repeating colors' names.. Tell </div><div style="text-align: center;">me, Am I mad? </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Ananya</div></div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-28305134261241914332011-11-09T09:45:00.000-08:002011-12-10T09:18:55.681-08:00Lost hope and Sunshine<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHDHy0CMKk-89YBxZmKxXTE9JQdTt7eVODUGZBs_-uZJcXXlulFD9v_bfvzP0DT4tkpAM6-LOet52IVFmdXNu4KUcGFrpCOn6GeT3-h-doiyPF57c6Z0q_Fki7hcvAnZmBu13cRsBTEIBk/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHDHy0CMKk-89YBxZmKxXTE9JQdTt7eVODUGZBs_-uZJcXXlulFD9v_bfvzP0DT4tkpAM6-LOet52IVFmdXNu4KUcGFrpCOn6GeT3-h-doiyPF57c6Z0q_Fki7hcvAnZmBu13cRsBTEIBk/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Its so often that we indulge in wishful thinking for what we don't have and are ungrateful for what we have. My bad, but yes, I am the same. Very often, I crib about my college or having no friends or having food which I don't like at all. Very often, I crib about me being fat and I crib about my family too. It is my utter inanity that I can't really be thankful. Even once. I cried in my college that day, out of sheer frustration and boredom. I see these three blind girls in my college, everyday. I decided not to make a fool of myself any more and took refuge at gazing at them through window. No, I don't know their names and don't even which year they belong to, which course. Anyhow, I saw two girls happily holding each other, giving each other support. One holding a plate of rajma chawal, other one holding a plate of kachori aloo. Where they went, I don't know. After the class got over, I saw the third girl I see often, hit an open door, I rushed to be at her side and she asked me to take her to the college office, she had to get some papers signed. The office, being a govt. Office, refused as usual. She then asked me to take her to the library. She held me as I took lead. On reaching library, she bid me goodbye by saying- why are you so sad? I didn't speak a word to her and she knew! Did she? Really? She went her way and I was dumbfound.</span><br />
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</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">I see these people everyday, I used to crib against the reservation system for religious communities but not for them. I see them entering our college everyday now, see them smile, feel their empowerment. I see them walk through the college, to their class. God knows how they climb stairs, they are used to it, I guess. I can never ever imagine myself being that way, or adjusting so well, not complaining. I don't know how they go home or come to college, a special cab or parents picking them up or buses, its a few minutes encounter in college. I smile at them, they don't smile back. I remember when one of them danced at the freshers talent hunt at mujhe rang de and I had goosebumps. It requires courage to be on stage and seems that they had it. Steve jobs once said- your time is limited on earth. Try making most of it. I want to say, sure time is limited but abilities are unlimited and I now make sure that I don't waste it. I write. Whenever I can. Whatever I can. I do my bit to be remembered. And whenever I am on the brink of being a nihilist, I remember those girls. I don't remember the last time I saw good in others. And guess what? I am happy. :)</span><br />
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</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ananya</span></div></div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-6505245764548223442011-10-14T10:04:00.000-07:002012-01-27T03:23:17.036-08:00Sunshine and Marshmallows<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">It would be so special to have you. It would be like sunshine. Like Black currant ice cream. Like stiletoes heels. Like rain. So spiritual, like Siddhartha. Like my white crumpled T shirt. Like Raw mangoes. Like Maybelline Kajal. Like sweet and innocent puppies. Like rainbow. Like swings. Like Sprite. Like watching the moon. Like dhol beats. Like blue color. Like soft pillows. Like warm hugs and sloppy kisses. Like that princess crown I wished for. Like the anklet I wished you could give me. It would feel so sweet, like lollipop. Like Bubblegum. Like Iced tea. Like my favorite jeans. Like yellow umbrella. Like teddies. Like Pine apple. Like ties. Like my blog. Like Maggi. Like shape shifting clouds. Like harry potter. Like Nimoo paani. Like Romantic movies. Like Archie's comics. Like Dreams. Like you!<br />
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Ananya</div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-62341393402618205302011-09-26T07:13:00.000-07:002011-09-26T07:13:21.471-07:00Phoenix<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNS_ZXJVLzDz1boOcqAQksybxVor_QyNADd5piGKIDk2bcHLZwIDdq6ByEpUvaHUlUZWtggw2DE2YtOOgixiDIV1IbvmyzJmw9YgYuVaVT6xSZnePp_QiMfyR718n66PEnu0rwfAHmJRIx/s1600/pho.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNS_ZXJVLzDz1boOcqAQksybxVor_QyNADd5piGKIDk2bcHLZwIDdq6ByEpUvaHUlUZWtggw2DE2YtOOgixiDIV1IbvmyzJmw9YgYuVaVT6xSZnePp_QiMfyR718n66PEnu0rwfAHmJRIx/s1600/pho.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">Red and yellow, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">fire and ice.. living dead, I </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">am what I am. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">Ananya</span></div></div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-79294372608405045572011-09-25T07:53:00.000-07:002011-09-25T07:53:14.184-07:00Raindrops<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1HK1NF297PB3kG3iCNpDrBgeVUMg6gdTwWYjRWr53jbqZ8ZudOg71qcHfJGyjThoZonb1vbC8DFxvr_vh_Rtx4VyMwEHLB6Xaz9HHksVgmR3Qe7U_R3fhTzdo2ojjP7RoWS2TmGBfFJj1/s1600/walk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1HK1NF297PB3kG3iCNpDrBgeVUMg6gdTwWYjRWr53jbqZ8ZudOg71qcHfJGyjThoZonb1vbC8DFxvr_vh_Rtx4VyMwEHLB6Xaz9HHksVgmR3Qe7U_R3fhTzdo2ojjP7RoWS2TmGBfFJj1/s1600/walk.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">O heavenly </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">elixir! I am lost, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Sing to me. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Ananya</span></div><br />
</div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-31818589549374382002011-09-23T03:31:00.000-07:002011-09-23T03:31:17.900-07:00Water<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPWuZKAA1UrRJ476ogHdXN-KagvRVgxxG_PL-ZFD58DG9p6XllEVHABd6LvTsOUFmcb4dZTz1HEOz1xVhMacmXBTPDTvJN1H_mU-O7W26jy-KtSvAzUmmPLgkqc0HvgsxEQWOvl2MJuYFE/s1600/botter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPWuZKAA1UrRJ476ogHdXN-KagvRVgxxG_PL-ZFD58DG9p6XllEVHABd6LvTsOUFmcb4dZTz1HEOz1xVhMacmXBTPDTvJN1H_mU-O7W26jy-KtSvAzUmmPLgkqc0HvgsxEQWOvl2MJuYFE/s1600/botter.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It reflects</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">my inner soul, makes </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">me immortal</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Ananya</span></div></div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-614335733425378202011-09-17T11:23:00.000-07:002011-09-17T11:23:18.914-07:00Winter<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><a href="http://rawconviviality.blogspot.com/2011/09/champagne-and-celebrations.html">My blog completes 50 posts :) Have a look here! :)</a><br />
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</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Cold and numb, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I think its the winter</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">of my dreams. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Ananya</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
</div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-53989442240299391832011-09-17T11:16:00.000-07:002011-09-17T11:16:01.674-07:00Champagne and Celebrations<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Heya peeps. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Its Celebration's time. Yay! My Blog completed 50 posts with this one. It is my happy occasion and it's all because of you, my PRECIOUS, PRECIOUS reader! Thank you, for being so regular and persistent on me for updates. Few bloggers, I would like to thank here, LEO, SONSHU, KUYERJUDD, SUR, TWEETY, NANKA, From whom I learnt so much, so much about poetry forms, haiku, limericks et al. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I am overwhelmed because initially, I never thought this blog would be a success. Thanks for making it one. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Thanks to my lovely Cheers, who decided impromptu to write a blog column here, though he is not regular here, He promised me to re start blogging. So check out this space for more Cheers-isms. :)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I would take this opportunity to thank a very special writer, two actually.. who made me read voraciously and talked to me on daily basis.. hearign my rant almost everyday, bearing with me. To Jia didi and Sookie. Thanks. Well, for everything. Jia didi, I love you. :) </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My best friend and a very budding blogger, Sur (<a href="http://typicallytypo.blogspot.com/">FORGOTTEN MEMORIES</a>) would like to add her own contribution to this blog, So here she is. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Before I sign out, I thank you a</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">gain, let's celebrate together, Keep reading. :) Happily. :) </span><br />
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GUEST POST<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><i>Hey guys</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><i>The awesome author of this blog has honored me with the chance to write the 50<sup>th</sup>(OMG! Really?) post of this blog. *Bows in gratitude*</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><i>Yeah, so after so many sweet, funny, soulful haikus, a bunch of awards and lovely comments, the blog is shining. I think its blushing (look closely).</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><i>I have been a reader here since its very first post. And it has been a real joy, to look at my blogroll and see an update. Though my dear friend had to give me reminders when I vanished from blogger, coming back was always a pleasure and I was always left asking for more.</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><i>The best part of this blog is it makes you feel warm. I can imagine its personified version spreading out its arms with a big smile. It feels great to be in a world full of colorful writing and thoughts after a tiring day. Also the style of writing completely rocks. You might think she bribed me to write this, but trust me I am pretty expensive and she spends all her money buying shoes. So this is all from my heart. <span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span>J</span></span></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><i>My favorite post on this blog is very hard to pin down… I adore all the haikus. Particularly the images- they are so pretty and accurate! Also, one of the memorable posts is the Cheers one. I really laughed my head off when I read it. I wish he comes back *puppy dog eyes*</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><i>I really wish you keep writing brilliantly like this. I’m glad I am a reader of this mind blowing blog which gives us a peep into your creative mind. *Big hug*</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><i>Happy Writing!!!</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><i>This is for you-</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKWvUae5xJkeBQAYTg94JIo7bVPWayzFrZEsXP96n0_KRgg5qB7eQ3BiAbAYb47Yzht89i6O7vf8TkCoMLIp9LhzPcC_zsLFnNQh5fCMCZZN2JleMLJMwvTX4eb2PYZbZVVhEKo_KcbLcg/s1600/Beautiful_Blogger_Award.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKWvUae5xJkeBQAYTg94JIo7bVPWayzFrZEsXP96n0_KRgg5qB7eQ3BiAbAYb47Yzht89i6O7vf8TkCoMLIp9LhzPcC_zsLFnNQh5fCMCZZN2JleMLJMwvTX4eb2PYZbZVVhEKo_KcbLcg/s1600/Beautiful_Blogger_Award.jpg" /></a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><i><br />
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</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><i>Love Ivre. </i></span></div><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">(Thanks Sur. <3 )</span></div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-66983976069118048422011-09-16T08:42:00.000-07:002011-09-16T08:42:01.226-07:00Chime<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">My baby laughs </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">it is so pure, chime</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">for my ears</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">Ananya</span></div></div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031214968525229373.post-69484186482198196562011-09-15T10:48:00.000-07:002011-09-15T10:48:15.789-07:00Patience<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvYVVZYAB4WxcmZqlzb3hYvbapp-TIyjN1STX_ehG9tYhK0VZMW8zmKOomrB4ibWEFGG4ZJOOXCkvFiJSkYIsOUowymkFxdUWWHf66gfv7nFKN1W28BMTP8BAXz9qOTbC1VAIPFgNBIiAA/s1600/pate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvYVVZYAB4WxcmZqlzb3hYvbapp-TIyjN1STX_ehG9tYhK0VZMW8zmKOomrB4ibWEFGG4ZJOOXCkvFiJSkYIsOUowymkFxdUWWHf66gfv7nFKN1W28BMTP8BAXz9qOTbC1VAIPFgNBIiAA/s1600/pate.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">Disappointed, I feel </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">Patience is not gifted </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">to me by virtue. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">Ananya</span></div></div>Spreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11486056442850784636noreply@blogger.com4