<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778</id><updated>2011-10-11T04:59:56.683+05:30</updated><category term='old wine...'/><category term='short poem'/><title type='text'>MUSINGS</title><subtitle type='html'>- To be absent minded,         to study in silence, to meditate on, to wonder at 
&amp;amp; Also &amp;#39;Muse&amp;#39; - one of the nine goddesses of the liberal arts - daughters of Zeus &amp;amp; Mnemosyne,       of music,lyrics, poetry………………
says the dictionary!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>29</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-5284370163681787015</id><published>2011-07-12T19:34:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2011-07-12T19:56:13.138+05:30</updated><title type='text'>ಮಡಿ</title><content type='html'>ಬೇಡ ......ದೇವರ ಮನೆಯ ದೀಪ ಹಚ್ಚಬೇಡ&lt;div&gt;ಬೆಳಗಿನಿಂದ ಹೊರಗೆಲ್ಲ ಸುತ್ತಾಡಿ&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ಮೀಟಿಂಗಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಯಾರ್ ಯಾರದೋ ಕೈಕುಲುಕಿ&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;ಕ್ಯಾಂಟೀನಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಯಾರ್ ಯಾರೋ ಮಾಡಿದ ಅಡಿಗೆ ತಿಂದು&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;ಬಸ್ಸಲ್ಲಿ ಯಾರ್ ಯಾರ ಜೊತೆಗೋ ಕುಳಿತು ಬಂದವಳು&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;ಮೈಲಿಗೆಯಾದಿತು.............&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ಆಙೆ ಮೀರಿದವರುಂಟೇ   ??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ದೇವರ ಮನೆಯ ಬಿಟ್ಟು ಹೊರಗೆಲ್ಲ  ದೀಪ ಹಚ್ಚಿದಳು &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ಮಡಿಪೆಟ್ಟಿಗೆಯ  ತುಂಬ  ಕತ್ತಲು....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;ಗಂಡಕೀ  ನದಿಯಲ್ಲಿ ಒಗೆದ ಬಟ್ಟೆಗಳ ನೆನೆದು ನಕ್ಕಿತು ಸಾಲಿಗ್ರಾಮ&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-5284370163681787015?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/5284370163681787015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=5284370163681787015' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/5284370163681787015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/5284370163681787015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2011/07/blog-post.html' title='ಮಡಿ'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-9201161295397396609</id><published>2010-03-14T10:59:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-03-14T11:15:22.852+05:30</updated><title type='text'>ಶೂನ್ಯ</title><content type='html'>ಜೀವನ ಒಂದು ಭೀಕರ ಸಮರ&lt;br /&gt;ನಿಂತು ಎದೆಯೊಡ್ಡಿ ಎದುರಿಸಬೇಕು&lt;br /&gt;ಧೀರ ಗಂಭೀರ ಹಿಮಾಲಯದಂತೆ .........&lt;br /&gt;ಘನಿಸಿ ಹಿಮವಾದಳು ಪುಟ್ಟ ಹುಡುಗಿ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಜೀವನ ಒಂದು ದುರ್ಗಮ ಪಯಣ&lt;br /&gt;ಅಡೆತಡೆಗಳ ದಾಟಿ ಮುನ್ನುಗ್ಗಬೇಕು&lt;br /&gt;ನಿಲ್ಲದೆ ಹರಿವ ನದಿಯಂತೆ ..........&lt;br /&gt;ಕರಗಿ ನೀರಾದಳು ಪುಟ್ಟ ಹುಡುಗಿ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಜೀವನ ಒಂದು ಮಹಾಯಾಗ&lt;br /&gt;ಬೆಂಕಿಯಲಿ ಬೆಂದು ಹಗುರಾಗಬೇಕು&lt;br /&gt;ಉರಿವ ಹೋಮದ ಧೂಮದಂತೆ ..........&lt;br /&gt;ದಹಿಸಿ ಆವಿಯಾದಳು ಪುಟ್ಟ ಹುಡುಗಿ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಗಾಳಿಯಲಿ ತೇಲಿ ದೂರ ಸಾಗಿದಳು&lt;br /&gt;ಮೇಲೆ.......... ಬಹು ಮೇಲೇರಿದಳು&lt;br /&gt;ಶೂನ್ಯದೋಳು ಲೀನವಾದಳು ಪುಟ್ಟ ಹುಡುಗಿ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಪಾರಾಯಣ ನಿಲ್ಲಿಸಿ, ವ್ಯಾಸಪೀಠದ ಮೇಲೆ ಕೈಯ್ಯೂರಿ&lt;br /&gt;ನಡುಮನೆಯೊಳಗಿ ಇಣುಕಿ ನೋಡಿದರು ರಾಯರು......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"ಅರೆ ಎಲ್ಲಿ ಹೋದಳು ನಮ್ಮ ಪುಟ್ಟಿ?&lt;br /&gt;ಇಲ್ಲೆ ಕುಳಿತು ನಾನು ಹಾಕಿದ&lt;br /&gt;ಕೂಡಿ ಕಳೆಯುವ ಲೆಕ್ಕ ಬಿಡಿಸುತ್ತಿದ್ದವಳು?!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-9201161295397396609?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/9201161295397396609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=9201161295397396609' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/9201161295397396609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/9201161295397396609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2010/03/blog-post.html' title='ಶೂನ್ಯ'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-3953122041551164812</id><published>2009-07-03T18:34:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2009-07-05T21:41:52.660+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='short poem'/><title type='text'>The Pair</title><content type='html'>"I am not going to wear this ear-ring anymore..&lt;br /&gt;this Pair you have got me is as good as you" said the girl angry.&lt;br /&gt;"Is it so bad...?&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; ...whats wrong with me...?!" thought the poor boy sad.&lt;br /&gt;"It keeps pulling my curls just like you" said the girl &amp;amp; winked!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-3953122041551164812?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/3953122041551164812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=3953122041551164812' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/3953122041551164812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/3953122041551164812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2009/07/pair.html' title='The Pair'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-9058585271710779595</id><published>2009-06-23T18:23:00.007+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-27T22:01:55.743+05:30</updated><title type='text'>ಕುಲಾವಿ</title><content type='html'>ಮಧ್ಯಾಹ್ನ ಮೂರರ ಸಮಯ&lt;br /&gt;ಸುಡುವ ಬೇಸಿಗೆಯ ಬಿಸಿಲು&lt;br /&gt;ಮುಂಬಾಗಿಲ ಮೆಟ್ಟಿಲ ಮೇಲೆ ನುಗ್ಗೆಯ ಮರದ ನೆರಳು&lt;br /&gt;ನಿತ್ಯ ಅಲ್ಲೆ ಕುಳಿತು ಹೆಣೆಯುವಳು ಹುಡುಗಿ...&lt;br /&gt;ಕನಸ ಕುಲಾವಿ........&lt;br /&gt;ಹೊಳೆವ ಕ್ರೋಶದ ಕಡ್ಡಿಗಳ ಹಿಡಿದು&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಆಗಾಗ ನೆನೆಸಿಕೊಂಡಂತೆ ಬೀಸುವ ಗಾಳಿ&lt;br /&gt;ಮಲ್ಲಿಗೆಯ ಗಿಡದ ತುಂಬ ಹೂವು&lt;br /&gt;........ತಂಪು...ಕಂಪು...ಆಹ್ಲಾದ...&lt;br /&gt;ಕುಲಾವಿ ಹೆಣೆದಾದ ಮೇಲೆ&lt;br /&gt;ತುದಿಗೆಲ್ಲ ಕುಚ್ಚು ಕಟ್ಟಿ.......&lt;br /&gt;ಚೆಂದ ಕಾಣಿಸಬೇಕೆಂದುಕೊಳ್ಳುವಳು ಹುಡುಗಿ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ನುಗ್ಗೆಯ ಮರದ ನೆರಳು ದೂರ ಸರಿದಂತೆಲ್ಲಾ&lt;br /&gt;ಉಣ್ಣೆಯ ಉಂಡೆ ಸಣ್ಣದಾಗುತ್ತಿತ್ತು&lt;br /&gt;ಕಡೆಗೊಮ್ಮೆ ಮುಗಿದೇ ಹೋಯ್ತು&lt;br /&gt;ಕುಲಾವಿ ಪೂರ್ತಿಯಾಗಿಲ್ಲ ಇನ್ನೂ....&lt;br /&gt;ಸುರಿವ ಸಂಜೆಯ ಮಳೆಯಲಿ&lt;br /&gt;ಊರೆಲ್ಲ ಅಲೆದಳು.....&lt;br /&gt;ಸಿಗಲಿಲ್ಲ ಬೇಕಾದ ಬಣ್ಣದ ಉಣ್ಣೆ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಮುಂಬಾಗಿಲ ಮೆಟ್ಟಿಲ ಮೇಲೀಗ ನೆರಳಿಲ್ಲ&lt;br /&gt;ಮೊದಲೆ ತಿರುಗುವ ಭೂಮಿ,&lt;br /&gt;ಸ್ವಲ್ಪ ವಾಲಿಕೊಂಡಿದೆಯಂತಲ್ಲಾ.......&lt;br /&gt;ಆಷಾಡದ ಗಾಳಿಗೆ ಉರುಳಿ ಬಿತ್ತು ನುಗ್ಗೆಯ ಮರ..&lt;br /&gt;ಮಲ್ಲಿಗೆಯ ಗಿಡವೀಗ ಬನವಾಗಿದೆ,&lt;br /&gt;ಹೂವು? ಒಂದೂ ಇಲ್ಲ&lt;br /&gt;ಕಂಪಿಲ್ಲ...ತಂಪಿಲ್ಲ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಅಂಗಡಿಗಲೆದು ಸಾಕಾಗಿ&lt;br /&gt;ಕುಲಾವಿಯ ಕತ್ತರಿಸಿದಳು ಹುಡುಗಿ&lt;br /&gt;ಎರಡು ತುಂಡಾಗಿ...&lt;br /&gt;ಷೋಕೇಸಿನ ಬಣ್ಣದ ಬೊಂಬೆಯ ಧೂಳೊರೆಸಲೊಂದು..&lt;br /&gt;ಬಂದು, ಹೋಗುವ ಅತಿಥಿ-ಅಭ್ಯಾಗತರಿಗೆ ಕಾಲೊರೆಸಲೊಂದು..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಹೊಳೆವ ಕ್ರೋಶದ ಕಡ್ಡಿ ಅಡುಗೆ ಮಾಡುವ ಕೈಗೆ&lt;br /&gt;ಒಲೆಯ ತೂತು, ಸಂದುಗೊಂದುಗಳು,&lt;br /&gt;ಎಣ್ಣೆಯ ಮಿಳ್ಳೆ, ಸೀದ ಪಾತ್ರೆಯ ಶುಚಿಗೊಳಿಸಲು...&lt;br /&gt;ಮುಸುರೆಯ ಕಟ್ಟೆ ಪರಿಶುದ್ಧ ?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಕಡ್ಡಿಗಳೀಗ ಹೊಳೆಯುವುದಿಲ್ಲ...&lt;br /&gt;ಕಪ್ಪು ಮಸಿ, ಕೊಳೆ....ಜಿಡ್ಡು...ಜಿಗುಟು&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಮಧ್ಯಾಹ್ನ ಮೂರರ ಸಮಯವೀಗ ಖಾಲಿ ಖಾಲಿ&lt;br /&gt;ಕುಳಿತು ತೂಕಡಿಸುವಳು ಹುಡುಗಿ....&lt;br /&gt;ತನ್ನ ಪಾಡಿಗೆ ತಾನು ಬಡಬಡಿಸುವುದು ಟೀ.ವಿ...&lt;br /&gt;ಕೈಯಲ್ಲಿ ಸನ್ನೆಯ ಹಿಡಿದು ವಿಮಾನ ನಿಯಂತ್ರಿಸುವ ನೃತ್ಯಗಾರ್ತಿ&lt;br /&gt;ಅರ್ಧ ನೋಡಿದ ಜಾಹೀರಾತು&lt;br /&gt;ಅರ್ಥವಾಗದೆ ನಕ್ಕಳು ಹುಡುಗಿ ........ ದಡ್ಡಿ&lt;br /&gt;ನಗಲಿಲ್ಲ ಕ್ರೋಶದ ಕಡ್ಡಿ.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-9058585271710779595?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/9058585271710779595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=9058585271710779595' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/9058585271710779595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/9058585271710779595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post.html' title='ಕುಲಾವಿ'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-4820753660736279323</id><published>2009-06-20T19:51:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-20T20:44:37.513+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='short poem'/><title type='text'>Consumerism</title><content type='html'>"Oh....! what an enchanting aroma of these beautiful flowers...!!&lt;br /&gt;Are they up for sale?" asked the girl&lt;br /&gt;"Yes my dear customer..&lt;br /&gt;Pay the breeze and take your share"&lt;br /&gt;said the wild giant tree!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-4820753660736279323?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/4820753660736279323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=4820753660736279323' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/4820753660736279323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/4820753660736279323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2009/06/aroma.html' title='Consumerism'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-5126343939082850109</id><published>2009-06-17T19:01:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-17T19:09:15.414+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='short poem'/><title type='text'>Outlook</title><content type='html'>"I want a Traditional Girl with a Modern Outlook..."&lt;br /&gt;used to dream that boy all the time&lt;br /&gt;Did he get one?&lt;br /&gt;Oh! Yes....Yes....&lt;br /&gt;His wife cooks ragi balls in the Microwave Oven!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-5126343939082850109?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/5126343939082850109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=5126343939082850109' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/5126343939082850109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/5126343939082850109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2009/06/outlook.html' title='Outlook'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-4428781254210147569</id><published>2009-06-12T20:56:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-12T20:59:41.247+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='short poem'/><title type='text'>Wavy Mind</title><content type='html'>"I am going to the beach &amp;amp;&lt;br /&gt;I will never come back to you"&lt;br /&gt;said the effervescent wave to the ocean!&lt;br /&gt;The ocean gave a deep blue smile&lt;br /&gt;                        and&lt;br /&gt;.......................stayed quiet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-4428781254210147569?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/4428781254210147569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=4428781254210147569' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/4428781254210147569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/4428781254210147569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2009/06/wavy-mind.html' title='Wavy Mind'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-7177053777314442535</id><published>2009-06-07T20:02:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-07T20:18:26.692+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='short poem'/><title type='text'>IM-PRESSED</title><content type='html'>The moment you come closing in on me&lt;br /&gt; I get rejuvenated by the warmth in your breath&lt;br /&gt;The moment you touch me&lt;br /&gt;All my crevices are flattened by the heaviness in your mass&lt;br /&gt;Do you think i am so alluring and irresistable?&lt;br /&gt;.................asked the innocent pink dress&lt;br /&gt;to the new Steam Iron Box !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-7177053777314442535?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/7177053777314442535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=7177053777314442535' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/7177053777314442535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/7177053777314442535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2009/06/im-pressed.html' title='IM-PRESSED'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-3320712230524761009</id><published>2009-05-07T20:55:00.006+05:30</published><updated>2009-05-07T21:37:26.839+05:30</updated><title type='text'>ಮೇಲು-ಸೇತುವೆ</title><content type='html'>ಎಂಥ ಸುಂದರ ಮುಂಜಾನೆಯ ಪಯಣ&lt;br /&gt;ಅಡೆತಡೆಗಳಿಲ್ಲದ ಈ ಮೇಲು ಸೇತುವೆಯ ಮೇಲೆ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಸುಖನಿದ್ರೆಯ ಮುಗಿಸಿ ಮೆಲ್ಲಗೆ ಮೇಲೆದ್ದು&lt;br /&gt;ಕಣ್ಣುಜ್ಜಿ ಕೆಂಪಗೆ ನಗುವ ಸೂರ್ಯ&lt;br /&gt;ಇರುಳೆಲ್ಲ ಮಳೆಮರದ ಎಲೆಗಳಲಿ ಅಡಗಿದ್ದು&lt;br /&gt;ತೆಳುಗುಲಾಬಿ ಬಣ್ಣದ ಹೂಗಳ ಮನಗೆದ್ದು&lt;br /&gt;ಎಳೆ ಎಳೆಯಾಗಿ ಹಾರಿಸಿ ಕದ್ದೊಯ್ಯುವ ತಣ್ಣನೆ ಗಾಳಿ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಎಂಥ ಸುಂದರ ದೃಶ್ಯ&lt;br /&gt;ಹಿತದ ಕುಂಚವ ಪ್ರಶಾಂತತೆಯ ಬಣ್ಣದೊಳದ್ದಿ ಬಿಡಿಸಿದ ಚಿತ್ರ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಈ ಮೇಲು ಸೇತುವೆಯ ಮೇಲೆ&lt;br /&gt;ಗದರಿಸಿ ತಡೆವ ಕೆಂಪು ಸಿಗ್ನಲುಗಳಿಲ್ಲ&lt;br /&gt;ಅಳುವ ಮಕ್ಕಳ ಹೊತ್ತು ಬೇಡುವ ಕೈಗಳೂ ಇಲ್ಲ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ನಡೆವವರಿಗಾಗಿ ನಿಲ್ಲೆನುವ ಝೀಬ್ರಾ ಪಟ್ಟೆಗಳಿಲ್ಲ&lt;br /&gt;ಪೇಪರ್ರು, ಹತ್ತಿಯ ಕಡ್ಡಿ ಮಾರುವ ಸಣಕಲು ಹುಡುಗರೂ ಇಲ್ಲ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಒಡೆದ ಪೈಪುಗಳ ಕಚಪಿಚ ಕೆಸರಿಲ್ಲ&lt;br /&gt;ಕೊಳೆತು ನಾರುವ ಮಾರುಕಟ್ಟೆಯ ಸೈರಿಸಬೇಕಿಲ್ಲ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಸುಮ್ಮನೆ ಸರಾಗವಾಗಿ ಮುಂದೆ ಸಾಗಿದರಾಯ್ತು&lt;br /&gt;ಗಮ್ಯ ತಲುಪುವ ತನಕ ರಮ್ಯ ಪಯಣ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಆದರೂ ಒಮ್ಮೊಮ್ಮೆ.......&lt;br /&gt;ಸಹ ಪಯಣಿಗರ ಹಿಂದಿಕ್ಕೆ&lt;br /&gt;ಮುಂದೆ ಸಾಗುವ ಭರದಿ&lt;br /&gt;ಮೇಲುಸೇತುವೆಯ ಎಡದ ತುದಿಯನು ತಲುಪಿ&lt;br /&gt;ಕೆಳಗಿನ ಕಹಿಸತ್ಯ ಕಣ್ಣಿಗೆ ಬಡಿದರೆ...??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ತಕ್ಷಣ ಕತ್ತು ತಿರುಗಿಸಿ&lt;br /&gt;ಊರ್ಧ್ವ ಮುಖಿಯಾಗು&lt;br /&gt;ಎಣಿಸು ಬಿಳಿಯ ಮೋಡದೊಳಗಿನ&lt;br /&gt;ಮಳೆಯ ಹನಿಗಳನು&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ರಮ್ಯ ಪಯಣಕೆ ಬೇಕು ದಿವ್ಯ ನಿರ್ಲಕ್ಷ&lt;br /&gt;’ಇದ್ದದ್ದೆ ಇವರ ಪಾಡು...’&lt;br /&gt;ಎಂಬ ಜಾಣಕುರುಡು&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-3320712230524761009?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/3320712230524761009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=3320712230524761009' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/3320712230524761009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/3320712230524761009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post.html' title='ಮೇಲು-ಸೇತುವೆ'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-8823931847148123913</id><published>2009-04-25T17:24:00.010+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-27T23:15:47.807+05:30</updated><title type='text'>ಮುಸುಕಿನ ಜೋಳ</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span&gt;ಝಗಮಗಿಸುವ ದೀಪಗಳ ಮರೆಯಲ್ಲಿ&lt;br /&gt;ಮಂಕಾದ ಬಿದಿಗೆಯ ಚಂದ್ರ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಹೊಗೆ, ಧೂಳುಗಳ ನಡುವೆ ಸಿಲುಕಿದ&lt;br /&gt;ಸಪ್ಪೆ ಸಂಜೆಯ ಗಾಳಿ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಗೌಜು ಗದ್ದಲದ ಚೌಕದ ಸುತ್ತ&lt;br /&gt;ಲಘುಬಗೆಯ ಜನರಿಗಾಗಿ ಬಗೆಬಗೆಯ ತಿನಿಸುಗಳು&lt;br /&gt;ಭೇಲು, ಗೋಬಿ - ಚಾಟು, ಚೈನೀಸುಗಳ ಮಧ್ಯೆ&lt;br /&gt;ಒಂದು ಹಳೆಯ ಬಡಕಲು ಗಾಡಿ......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;                                                                                                                                                                                                                              ಸಣ್ಣ ಕುಲುಮೆಯ ತಿರುವಿ ಗಾಳಿಯನೂದಿ&lt;br /&gt;ಇದ್ದಿಲ ಕೆಂಡ ಮಾಡುವ ಮುದುಕ&lt;br /&gt;ಹಗುರಾಗಿ ಹಾರಿ, ಹಳದಿ ಬೆಳಕಿನಲೆಯಲಿ ತೇಲುವ&lt;br /&gt;ಕಪ್ಪು ಹುಡಿ, ಕೆಂಪು ಕಿಡಿ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"ಖಾರ ಹೆಚ್ಚಾಗಿರಲಿ...." ತುಟಿ ಸವರಿ-ಕೊಳ್ಳುವವನಾಜ್ಞೆ&lt;br /&gt;ಯಾರೋ ನರಳುವ ಸದ್ದು.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span&gt;"ಅಯ್ಯೋ..ಅಮ್ಮಾ...ತಾಳಲಾರೆನು..." ಎಂದು&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಎಳೆಯ ಜೋಳದ ಕೂಗು......!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"ಉರಿವ ಗಾಯಕ್ಕೆ ಉಪ್ಪು...ಗಾದೆಯ ಮಾತು&lt;br /&gt;ಸುಟ್ಟ ಗಾಯದ ಮೇಲೆ ಅಚ್ಚ ಖಾರದ ಪುಡಿ.... ಬದುಕಿಹೆನು ಸತ್ತು"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಸುಟ್ಟೋ, ಬೆಂದೋ.. ಮುಗಿಯಲೇ ಬೇಕಲ್ಲ ನಿನ್ನ ಕಥೆ!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"ಹಾಗೇನಿಲ್ಲ...............&lt;br /&gt;ಹಾಗೆ ಆಗಬೇಕೆಂದಿಲ್ಲ............&lt;br /&gt;ನನ್ನ ನೆರೆಯವನೊಬ್ಬ ಅಲ್ಲಿಯೇ ಉಳಿದ&lt;br /&gt;ದಪ್ಪ, ದುಂಡನೆ ಕಾಳುಗಳವ..ಮತ್ತೆ ಬಿತ್ತುವರವನ...&lt;br /&gt;ಕಾಳು ಮಣಿಮುತ್ತಾಗಿ, ನೂರು, ಸಾವಿರವಾಗಿ....&lt;br /&gt;ತೆನೆದೂಗಿ ಬಾಳುವನು!’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಚಿಟ್ಟೆಂದು ಪುಟಿಯಿತು ಒಂದೆರಡು ಕಾಳು ಕಲ್ಪನೆಯ ಖುಷಿಯಲೆ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;ಉರಿವ ಕೆಂಡದ ಮೇಲೂ ಮೆರೆವ ಕನಸು!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;                                                                               "ಅದೃಷ್ಟವಿರಬೇಕಲ್ಲಾ...."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;                                                                                  ಮರುಗದಿರು,&lt;br /&gt;ನಿನ್ನ ತಪ್ಪೇನಿಲ್ಲ...&lt;br /&gt;ಬಿದ್ದಿರಬಹುದು ಅದಕೆ ಹೆಚ್ಚು ಗೊಬ್ಬರ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span&gt;ಹೀರಿರಬಹುದು ಹೆಚ್ಚು ಗಾಳಿ, ನೀರು, ಸೂರ್ಯರಶ್ಮಿ..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;ಅದೃಷ್ಟ  ಎಲ್ಲರದಲ್ಲ.....&lt;br /&gt;ಅಥವ &lt;br /&gt;ಅದೃಷ್ಟ   ನಿನ್ನದೆಯೋ?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಮರಳಿ ಬಾಯ್ತೆರೆಯುವ ಮುನ್ನ..&lt;br /&gt;ಅದರ ಸಿಪ್ಪೆಯಲೆ ಜೋಳವ ಬಿಗಿದು ಸುತ್ತಿ&lt;br /&gt;ಕೊಟ್ಟು ಬಿಟ್ಟನು ಬಿಳಿಯ ಗಡ್ಡದ ಮುದುಕ&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;ಮತ್ತೆ ಕುಲುಮೆಯ ತಿರುವಿ, ಗಾಳಿಯನೂದಿ&lt;br /&gt;ಇದ್ದಿಲ ಕೆಂಡ ಮಾಡುವ ಕೆಲಸ ಅವ್ಯಾಹತ...... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span&gt;ಇದ್ದಿಲ ಕೊನೆಯೊ ? ಕೆಂಡದ ಮರುಹುಟ್ಟೋ ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span&gt;ಎರಡು ಒಂದೆಯೊ? ಒಂದರೊಳಗೆರಡೋ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಒಳ-ಹೊರಗು ತಿಳಿಯದ,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಸೂತ್ರ- ಸಿದ್ಧಾಂತಗಳಿಗೆ ನಿಲುಕದ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಮಾಬಿಯಸ್ ಬಳೆಯೋ?!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-8823931847148123913?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/8823931847148123913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=8823931847148123913' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/8823931847148123913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/8823931847148123913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post.html' title='ಮುಸುಕಿನ ಜೋಳ'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-5632498229428376417</id><published>2009-04-10T19:53:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-10T20:19:12.498+05:30</updated><title type='text'>To A Bosom Friend</title><content type='html'>The loud shrill of the alarm clock&lt;br /&gt;Wakes me up rudely,&lt;br /&gt;I sit up in my bed………….&lt;br /&gt;……..I just wish &amp;amp; pray in silence……..that……&lt;br /&gt;The soothing morning breeze caress your face,&lt;br /&gt;The tender rays of sun touch you gently&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; you wake up with a smile for an enchanting day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hurry through my chores,&lt;br /&gt;Run to the bus stop &amp;amp; catch my bus&lt;br /&gt;I sit in my seat………….&lt;br /&gt;……… I just wish &amp;amp; pray in silence……….that…….&lt;br /&gt;The time moves a bit slowly&lt;br /&gt;To let you have your morning break-fast leisurely,&lt;br /&gt;Reach your office in-time&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; you start off with great enthusiasm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am tensed &amp;amp; tired hustling through my work&lt;br /&gt;A kind colleague gets me a cup of coffee&lt;br /&gt;I take a sip…’.oh! It’s sugarless’……….&lt;br /&gt;……..… I just wish &amp;amp; pray in silence……..that……&lt;br /&gt;Somebody gets you a hot cup of a perfect special tea&lt;br /&gt;That relieves you of your stress,&lt;br /&gt;Makes you lively &amp;amp; fresh&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; you get back to work with a bouncing force&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stand in front of my boss…&lt;br /&gt;Blasting out at me for the mistake I made&lt;br /&gt;I come out of his chamber…….&lt;br /&gt;……….I just wish &amp;amp; pray in silence……..that…..&lt;br /&gt;Your higher-up is a kind, cool man&lt;br /&gt;Wise enough to guide you through your flaws&lt;br /&gt;You complete all your tasks well ahead of deadline&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; you are showered with compliments for the job well-done&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get drenched in rain&lt;br /&gt;That lashes ruthlessly as I reach home …..&lt;br /&gt;………..I just wish &amp;amp; pray in silence…..that…..&lt;br /&gt;The winds don’t blow in your face &amp;amp; dark clouds don’t melt&lt;br /&gt;As long as you ride your bike along the highway&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; you reach home safe without getting wet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I light the lamps in the pooja room at dusk&lt;br /&gt;The fragrance of incense sticks fills the air……..&lt;br /&gt;…….. I just wish &amp;amp; pray in silence……that…..&lt;br /&gt;Someone kind &amp;amp; beautiful&lt;br /&gt;Lights the lamps at your home&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; you lose yourself in the aroma of burning camphor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I again hurry through my chores&lt;br /&gt;Finish of my dinner&lt;br /&gt;I go to my bed exhausted &amp;amp; sleepy……&lt;br /&gt;………. I just close my eyes to sleep&lt;br /&gt;Alas………I can’t!!&lt;br /&gt;I sit up &amp;amp; smile, fold my hands, close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;……….. I just pray &amp;amp; pray &amp;amp; pray in silence……that…….&lt;br /&gt;You get a nice, sound sleep&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; all the dreams you get are sweet &amp;amp; beautiful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I shout loudly……… ‘GOOD NIGHT’&lt;br /&gt;………..I just want my voice to cross the walls of my home,&lt;br /&gt;Cross the hills &amp;amp; rivers,&lt;br /&gt;Cross the curtains of your window&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; reach your ears&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little sister is annoyed,&lt;br /&gt;She peeps out of her blanket &amp;amp; says&lt;br /&gt;………..‘Why are you shouting? Who do you think is deaf?’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hm…! Can you be deaf?&lt;br /&gt;Can someone who loves to hear ………… the splatter of rains,&lt;br /&gt;……. the rustling of leaves,&lt;br /&gt;……….. the babble of a kid,&lt;br /&gt;……… &amp;amp; enjoys even the sound of a girl clearing her throat……… be deaf??!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Impossible………&lt;br /&gt;May be, I was deaf and……….. A bit dumb as well&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again I close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; say in a whisper ………. ‘goodnight my friend’&lt;br /&gt;Now……….&lt;br /&gt;………..hope you heard it………..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;[This poem was written almost an year back for a 'Poetry Contest' in a website called 'p4poetry'. The topic given was 'Separation'. &amp;amp; Oh!..........the result....? ofcourse i didnt win...haha.  Now, i feel the poem looks very low on 'Poetic qualitites' &amp;amp; is quite repetitive, but am presenting the poem as it was.......without n e editing ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-5632498229428376417?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/5632498229428376417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=5632498229428376417' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/5632498229428376417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/5632498229428376417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2009/04/to-bosom-friend.html' title='To A Bosom Friend'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-5600685403849372115</id><published>2009-03-27T19:30:00.018+05:30</published><updated>2009-03-29T13:30:28.990+05:30</updated><title type='text'>ಹೊಸದೇನು ?</title><content type='html'>"ಹೊಸ ವರ್ಷದ ಶುಭಾಶಯಗಳು"&lt;br /&gt;"ಧನ್ಯವಾದಗಳು, ನಿಮಗೂ ಸಹ"&lt;br /&gt;ಕೇಳಿ, ಕೇಳಿ ಬೇಸತ್ತ ಅದೇ ಹಳೆಯ ಸಾಲುಗಳು, ಅದೇ ಕೈ ಕುಲುಕು&lt;br /&gt;ಹೊಸದೇನು ಬಂತು?&lt;br /&gt;ಎಲ್ಲ ಹಳೆಯದೆ.&lt;br /&gt;ಹೊಸದೇನಿದೆ ಇಲ್ಲಿ?&lt;br /&gt;ಹೊಸದೇನು??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಅದೇ ಆಫೀಸು, ಅದೇ ಕೆಲಸ, ಅದೇ ಜನ&lt;br /&gt;ದಿನ ನೋಡುವ ಅದೇ ಮುಖ, ಅದೆ ಬಿಳಿಯ ಮೀಸೆ&lt;br /&gt;ಆದರೂ ಏನೋ ಹೊಸದು?!&lt;br /&gt;ಕೈಯ್ಯಲ್ಲಿ ಸಿಹಿ ಪೇಡದ ಡಬ್ಬ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"ಅರೆ! ಇವರು ಮುಂದಿನ ತಿಂಗಳಲ್ಲವೆ ರಿಟೈರಾಗುವುದು?"&lt;br /&gt;"ನನ್ನ ಮಗಳಿಗೆ ಮಗ ಹುಟ್ಟಿದ"&lt;br /&gt;ಬಿಳಿ ಮೀಸೆಯ ಕೆಳಗೆ ಹೆಮ್ಮೆ, ಸಂತಸದ ನಗು&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಹೊಸದು ವೃದ್ಧಾಪ್ಯವೆ?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಅದೇ ಕ್ಯಾಂಟೀನು, ಅದೇ ತಿಂಡಿ,ಕಾಫಿ, ಅದೇ ಜನ&lt;br /&gt;ಎದುರು ಟೇಬಲ್ಲಿನಲಿ ಕೂರುವ ಅದೆ ಕಪ್ಪು ಹುಡುಗಿ,&lt;br /&gt;ಅದೆ ಕಂದು ಯೂನಿಫಾರ್ಮು&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಆದರೂ ಏನೋ ಹೊಸದು?!&lt;br /&gt;ಮೆಹೆಂದಿ ಹಚ್ಚಿದ ಕೈಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ಮಿನುಗುವ ಉಂಗುರ&lt;br /&gt;ಕಡುಗಪ್ಪು ಕಣ್ಣುಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ಹೊಳೆವ ಮಿಂಚು&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಹೊಸದು ಯೌವ್ವನವೆ?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಅದೆ ಕ್ಯಾಬು, ಅದೇ ಬೀದಿಯ ದೀಪ, ಅದೇ ಮನೆ, ಅದೇ ಬಾಲ್ಕನಿ&lt;br /&gt;ಫುಟ್ಬಾಲು ಹಿಡಿದ ನೆರೆಮನೆಯ ಅದೆ ಪುಟ್ಟ ಹುಡುಗ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಆದರೂ ಏನೋ ಹೊಸದು?!&lt;br /&gt;ಕಿವಿಯಿಂದ ಕಿವಿವರೆಗೆ ಬಾಯಗಲಿಸಿದ ನಗು&lt;br /&gt;ಮುಖ ಸಂತೋಷದ ಬುಗ್ಗೆ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಹೊಸದು ಬಾಲ್ಯವೆ?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಕೇಳಿಯೇ ಬಿಟ್ಟೆ....&lt;br /&gt;"ಏನಿಷ್ಟು ಖುಶಿ? ಏನು ಹೊಸದು?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಕೈ ಚಪ್ಪಾಳೆ ತಟ್ಟುತ್ತ, ಕುಣಿಕುಣಿದು&lt;br /&gt;ತಡೆತಡೆದು ಹೇಳಿದ ಪುಟ್ಟ ಹುಡುಗ&lt;br /&gt;"ನಾಳೆ........ನಾಳೇ.........ನಾಳೆಯಿಂದ ಬೇಸಿಗೆ ರಜೆ "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಧಡಧಡನೆ ಮೆಟ್ಟಿಲ ಧುಮುಕಿ ಹಾರಿ&lt;br /&gt;ಆಡಲು ಓಡಿದ ಬೀದಿಗೆ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಸಿಕ್ಕಿತ್ತು ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗೆ ಉತ್ತರ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಹೊಸದು................. " ನಾಳೆ !"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಹೊಸದು ನಾಳೆಯ ಕನಸು,&lt;br /&gt;ಹೊಸದು ಭರವಸೆಯ ಬೆಳಕು,&lt;br /&gt;ಹೊಸದು ದಿನದಿನವು ಬದಲಾಗಿ ಬೆರಗುಗೊಳಿಸುವ ಬದುಕು,&lt;br /&gt;ಹೊಸದು ಜೀವನ ಪ್ರೀತಿ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಹೊಸದೆಂದರೆ.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ಉದುರಿ, ನಲುಗಿದ ಹಳದಿ ಹೂ ಹಾಸಿನ ರಸ್ತೆಯ ಕಡೆಯ ತಿರುವಿನಲಿ&lt;br /&gt;ಅರಳಿ, ನಳನಳಿಸಿ ನಗುವ ಕೆಂಪು ಗುಲ್ ಮೊಹರ್ ಹೂವು !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-5600685403849372115?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/5600685403849372115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=5600685403849372115' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/5600685403849372115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/5600685403849372115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2009/03/blog-post.html' title='ಹೊಸದೇನು ?'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-8183282391334241838</id><published>2009-02-12T21:27:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-12T21:29:53.928+05:30</updated><title type='text'>THE HILL</title><content type='html'>“Why do you climb the hill?&lt;br /&gt;For many people are climbing?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many more are not climbing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Why do you climb the hill?&lt;br /&gt;To squeeze pleasure out of pain?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can do that in hundred other ways!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Why do you climb the hill then?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Because It Is There!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trek along………&lt;br /&gt;Sweating profusely,&lt;br /&gt;            Sweltering sun beating on your head&lt;br /&gt;            Soil &amp;amp; Rock beneath burning like coal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;March ahead……&lt;br /&gt;Wielding the stick,&lt;br /&gt;            Wild thorns scratching the skin,&lt;br /&gt;            Wilder monkeys staring &amp;amp; scaring&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trek ahead………….&lt;br /&gt;Bent down by the weight of your baggage…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Oh! You are at the peak now!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Yes, I am……..!&lt;br /&gt;            The high wind blowing in my hair,&lt;br /&gt;            The trees, farmlands &amp;amp; houses, tiny,&lt;br /&gt;                        …………….just beneath my feet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “I conquered the hill!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! Is it so?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you conquer the hill?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think over………., think over………&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hill….is still there!&lt;br /&gt;Still &amp;amp; Unconquered!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hill is Unconquered….&lt;br /&gt;As long as there are men &amp;amp; women,&lt;br /&gt;Men &amp;amp; women with desires,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            Desires………..&lt;br /&gt;                    ……to reach the peak of hills,&lt;br /&gt;                    …… to cross the endless horizons,&lt;br /&gt;                    …… to Conquer the infinite universe &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hill remains…. ‘Unconquered’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You…….. My dear…”&lt;br /&gt;Huh! Ha…ha……&lt;br /&gt;Laughed my mind,&lt;br /&gt;            ……….mocking at me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You Are Conquered, By your Ego!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-8183282391334241838?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/8183282391334241838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=8183282391334241838' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/8183282391334241838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/8183282391334241838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2009/02/hill.html' title='THE HILL'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-2924862314604299003</id><published>2009-01-08T20:51:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2009-01-09T22:27:34.026+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='old wine...'/><title type='text'>The Sunbeam</title><content type='html'>The chill breeze of December morning&lt;br /&gt;Seeped through her thick blanket&lt;br /&gt;The little girl woke up&lt;br /&gt;Brushing her dreamy eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh…look at this!!" She jumped out of her bed&lt;br /&gt;Eyes wide with excitement!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She ran to the little boy, Shook him vigorously…&lt;br /&gt;“Hey!! Wake up, wake up”&lt;br /&gt;She pulled his blanket, snatched his pillow&lt;br /&gt;“Look what’s in the room!!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy got up grumbling…&lt;br /&gt;Looked around and there it was…..!!!&lt;br /&gt;His narrow eyes twinkled with glee&lt;br /&gt;“Oh!! That’s a beauty “&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A glittering conduit of gold!&lt;br /&gt;With shimmering dust floating in it!&lt;br /&gt;A ladder of luminance!&lt;br /&gt;Leading to the land of ecstasy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Descending from a tiny gap in the roof tile&lt;br /&gt;Piercing the darkness of the room&lt;br /&gt;In all its glory………The Sunbeam!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Let’s get there…&lt;br /&gt;……..to the abode of bliss’ said the little boy&lt;br /&gt;He swiftly started gliding up&lt;br /&gt;Grasping the radiant golden beam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl gazed up,&lt;br /&gt;Her face was a riot of colors…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colors of fears and fascination…&lt;br /&gt;of doubts and delight…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little boy was glowing like an angel now!&lt;br /&gt;His hollow mind filled with the golden dust!&lt;br /&gt;His face radiating bright!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl followed him&lt;br /&gt;Grasping the smooth yellow beam …with two small hands&lt;br /&gt;Gripping it tight…with her little fat toes &amp;amp; tiny fingers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With joy and wonder&lt;br /&gt;They moved higher and higher&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a few more notches …&lt;br /&gt;They will be at the doors…&lt;br /&gt;At the doors of that dream land&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy looked down&lt;br /&gt;“Oh! Sweet little girl!&lt;br /&gt;You gleam like an angel!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl smiled, said ‘u too look the… …’&lt;br /&gt;And suddenly&lt;br /&gt;A thud …..!&lt;br /&gt;A loud bang….!&lt;br /&gt;The two were on the ground&lt;br /&gt;The sunbeam has vanished!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Must be a thick cloud ...&lt;br /&gt;That obstructed the path’&lt;br /&gt;A cloud…?! On this winter morning?!&lt;br /&gt;Nature’s folly?! …… Not a chance….&lt;br /&gt;‘Oh! Must be the smoke&lt;br /&gt;Billowing from the kitchen chimney …’&lt;br /&gt;………..the boy’s thoughts were cut abrupt.....&lt;br /&gt;By the cry of the little girl&lt;br /&gt;With bruised knees &amp;amp; elbows&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘I will never speak to you…’&lt;br /&gt;The little girl sweared with anger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘As you wish…, as you wish…’ said the little boy calm&lt;br /&gt;‘But let’s put the blanket straight&lt;br /&gt;…before your mother drops in’... &amp;amp; he smiled, she... didn't&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl wiped her eyes&lt;br /&gt;With the arm of her laced frock&lt;br /&gt;she clutched her lips tight to stop wailing&lt;br /&gt;took the two ends of the blanket&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy took the other ends…but …the wrong way&lt;br /&gt;The blanket was twisted…&lt;br /&gt;To flip it... he didn’t change his hands…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He just held it tight &amp;amp; did a Somersault …!&lt;br /&gt;…..to the girls’ amusement&lt;br /&gt;‘Phew..!! The blanket was straight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Funny you..!’ laughed the little girl&lt;br /&gt;Her clear ringing laughter ….&lt;br /&gt;Engulfed the chillness in the room&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now......There was some sound&lt;br /&gt;sound of approaching steps….&lt;br /&gt;Behind the closed doors….&lt;br /&gt;“knock…&lt;br /&gt;…..knock……knock”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-2924862314604299003?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/2924862314604299003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=2924862314604299003' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/2924862314604299003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/2924862314604299003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2009/01/sunbeam.html' title='The Sunbeam'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-7657070958732264952</id><published>2008-12-16T20:26:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-12-16T20:54:34.431+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The rubber Washer... of thickness 10mm</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;“&lt;strong&gt;Just 72 pins, remove &amp;amp; reinsert&lt;/strong&gt;” said the man. The girl looked at him aghast with a question mark on her face. He searched his tool kit &amp;amp; thrusted a shining steel pin remover into the girls’ hand &amp;amp; got down from the coach no. DT-21.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The apprentice girl was working on that connector in the relay panel since 7’ o clock in the morning. Her fingers were aching for she marked, stripped &amp;amp; crimped the 72 cables of the connector with her tools. She had finished inserting the pins, closed the lock nut &amp;amp; was about to connect it to the panel when her Korean Team Leader climbed up the ladder &amp;amp; inspected her work. She had done a good job …but…..she forgot to insert a rubber washer inside the lock nut. A rubber washer all of 10mm thickness, used as a safety measure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two of her senior colleagues who were working on the other side of the coach came to her &amp;amp; one said...”why do you worry so much? Just loosen the lock nut, cut the washer, insert &amp;amp; close it off! Now have some coffee &amp;amp; relax”. The other looked a little worried but he smiled &amp;amp; gave her the cup of coffee he was about to have &amp;amp; they went down to have their coffee. “Oh!! Yes!” That was the simplest solution to her problem. What’s the big deal if the 10mm washer is cut &amp;amp; rejoined with some adhesive? She admired the Indian innovativeness...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl sat on the wooden work bench with the cup in her hand. The furnishing team members have finished their work &amp;amp; they were having coffee, sitting on the glittering stainless steel side seats of the coach they have fixed themselves. As she gazed at them, sipping her coffee, a strange image appeared in front of her eyes……. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The automatic door of the train opened. A crowd of people rushed into the train. The seats were already full. There were men &amp;amp; women on their way to work, few busy with their cell phones, few tapping away on their laptops, an old lady with a huge basket in her hand, a group of small boys armed with their cricket gears, another bunch of young girls &amp;amp; boys chatting loudly, laughing &amp;amp; sipping cool drink…............&amp;amp; .....................&amp;amp;......................suddenly there was a loud bang &amp;amp; a flash over…a fire broke out in the train……..the old woman’s basket has caught fire……..the kids bats were burning, the laptops &amp;amp; cell phones flashed &amp;amp; burst. There were shouts, &amp;amp; cries for help ……&amp;amp;…… helpless wails, the automatic doors couldn’t be opened &amp;amp; ……….the cause of the fire…..oh! the relay panel was burning!!!….must be short circuit due to some cable damage... may be due to the cable brushing with a little sharpness at the edge of the lock nut….may be the rubber washer was not strong enough………..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ooh!! NO!!!” cried the girl, her coffee cup fell down. The furnishing team turned &amp;amp; looked at her. “What happened dear girl?” asked a senior man. She shook herself out of the nightmare &amp;amp; said “Sorry Sirs, I am all right”. He went back to his work smiling, murmuring something to himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The time was 5 mins past 9’o clock. She loosened the lock nut. Took the pin remover &amp;amp; started removing the pins she has painstakingly inserted into the connector with a firm hand. She removed &amp;amp; inspected each crimped pin lest it doesn’t gets damaged while pulling it out. She pulled out all of them. Slided the 10mm thick rubber washer into the lock nut carefully. Drew the cable bunch out of it. Started re-inserting the pins into connector checking the pin assignment drawing with cocentration. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;She now inserted the 72nd pin into the connector &amp;amp; tightened the lock nut. She gave out a sigh of relief . She heard a familiar voice calling out her name…it was her Korean Team Leader. He climbed the ladder, got into the coach, and looked at the connector. The girl expected him to do a thorough check of her work. but he didn’t bother to even touch the connector. “Time for lunch- break my good girl” he said to the girl smiling &amp;amp; then he called out to her senior colleagues “Mr. King cobra &amp;amp; Mr. Lord of Victory… time for lunch”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes sir” said the girl happily &amp;amp; got down the ladder jumping along with her team. Her face was lit up with a sense of relief or was it the light of self satisifaction?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl had a hearty laugh in the canteen, telling her friends about the English translations of the Indian names done by her Korean Team Leader.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in the coach someone was smiling. It was a smile of joy &amp;amp; contentment.&lt;br /&gt;The relay panel was smiling! Happy at the thoughtfulness, sincerity &amp;amp; responsible nature of it’s would be Engineer-in-charge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-7657070958732264952?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/7657070958732264952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=7657070958732264952' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/7657070958732264952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/7657070958732264952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2008/12/rubber-washer-of-thickness-10mm.html' title='The rubber Washer... of thickness 10mm'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-1145118351706311711</id><published>2008-11-27T19:35:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-11-27T22:10:10.634+05:30</updated><title type='text'>A Pledge</title><content type='html'>Our steps never matched&lt;br /&gt;Didn’t we walk miles together?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our tastes never matched&lt;br /&gt;Didn’t we had breakfast &amp;amp; lunch together?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We counted the unlit roof lights&lt;br /&gt;In the dingy hangars taking turns&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bartered sorrows for smiles&lt;br /&gt;that lit up the dull afternoons together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we played with a single racket taking turns&lt;br /&gt;tired......we left the club together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We loosened our purse strings taking turns&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; were lost in myriad dreams together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We even fell sick taking turns!&lt;br /&gt;Alas… just fell out of luck together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I let u down in the dark&lt;br /&gt;Driven by devilish instincts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know am not brave enough to&lt;br /&gt;Hold u r hand &amp;amp; lead the way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But be assured that the next time&lt;br /&gt;You are down in the murk&lt;br /&gt;I shall scare my instincts out of its wits&lt;br /&gt;to stand besides you until you get up&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; we shall walk together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The circle around me may increase its dia&lt;br /&gt;With changing times &amp;amp; fleeting life&lt;br /&gt;But I will always try &amp;amp; will stand on the edge&lt;br /&gt;To be a little closer to you my friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know our steps will never match&lt;br /&gt;But I never wish to part ways with you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know for sure&lt;br /&gt;Our steps will never match&lt;br /&gt;But it doesn’t matters&lt;br /&gt;As long as our pulses do&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-1145118351706311711?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/1145118351706311711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=1145118351706311711' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/1145118351706311711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/1145118351706311711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2008/11/pledge.html' title='A Pledge'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-8548565549952137988</id><published>2008-11-20T21:25:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-11-20T21:29:11.292+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The Little Prince</title><content type='html'>“Let’s start the voyage”&lt;br /&gt;Said the little boy&lt;br /&gt;harnessing a gigantic blue whale&lt;br /&gt;“ Move on beast ,&lt;br /&gt;Will discover new lands today “&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whale galloped high in the air&lt;br /&gt;Dived deep into the dark blue sea&lt;br /&gt;Carrying its little master!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy cruised along with great zeal&lt;br /&gt;His way lit up ….&lt;br /&gt;by corals…. bright &amp;amp; dazzling&lt;br /&gt;A gold fish here…A green turtle there…&lt;br /&gt;Standing at bay……Giving him the way…&lt;br /&gt;            Saluting their little master!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“hey! Stop there! Said the little boy&lt;br /&gt;“ I see some one is waiting..&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for me in there….&lt;br /&gt;There in …..a little westward……MOVE”…commanded he&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whale moved west….into a triangular coast&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; phew! There it was ….!&lt;br /&gt;A giant elephant with long white tusks&lt;br /&gt;waiting for him!!&lt;br /&gt;It lifted him softly with its trunk,&lt;br /&gt; seated him on his back&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; took him along to an old lady&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“R u waiting for me…&lt;br /&gt;My grand old lady?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“yes,  dear little boy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“boy??!!&lt;br /&gt; How dare u call me that?&lt;br /&gt;I am the king !&lt;br /&gt;King of kings!!&lt;br /&gt;The lord of my dreamland!!!&lt;br /&gt;Said the little boy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“ pardon me my lord, &amp;amp; please accept these..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…little hot cakes smeared with ghee&lt;br /&gt;……………….I made them for thee “&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh! by all means’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Said the little boy &amp;amp; munched on them...&lt;br /&gt;licking  his fingers, he said…..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“hm… crisp &amp;amp; yummy….&lt;br /&gt;He is a lucky  chap…the grand old man&lt;br /&gt;who lives with you&lt;br /&gt;Eating your hot cakes, day in … day out…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bright, happy smile&lt;br /&gt;Adorned the lady’s face&lt;br /&gt;She bowed and said&lt;br /&gt;“at your service my lord&lt;br /&gt;Anyday……Anytime….I wait for thee”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Time to get back…&lt;br /&gt;End of excursion for today….&lt;br /&gt;My subjects…&lt;br /&gt;             are waiting for me”&lt;br /&gt;Said the little boy..!&lt;br /&gt;Rode the elephant quick&lt;br /&gt;Jumped on to the blue whale&lt;br /&gt;            That galloped in the air&lt;br /&gt;                        Dived deep into the blue sea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He rode along ……..&lt;br /&gt;Rode along swiftly………&lt;br /&gt;Across the bright coral reefs&lt;br /&gt;Swish…swash…...swooooooooooosh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Wake up dear boy...&lt;br /&gt;Time to have some warm milk”&lt;br /&gt;Said the pretty young lady&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little boy woke up&lt;br /&gt;Brushing his dreamy eyes&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; babbled&lt;br /&gt;“ mamma …..&lt;br /&gt;me wenth on ekch - kulchun”!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“eckch…..what!!??&lt;br /&gt; Oh!… I got it”&lt;br /&gt; I got it… my little prince&lt;br /&gt;U want some extra chocolates?&lt;br /&gt;I will get it for you!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-8548565549952137988?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/8548565549952137988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=8548565549952137988' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/8548565549952137988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/8548565549952137988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2008/11/little-prince.html' title='The Little Prince'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-6230607921841503920</id><published>2008-10-11T21:42:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-10-13T20:16:19.625+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Freedom</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stuck……….. stuck……… stuck&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hithered and tithered&lt;br /&gt;Hopped and slided&lt;br /&gt;Up, down, Left and right&lt;br /&gt;But there was no way out.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The butterfly was stuck&lt;br /&gt;Stuck in the jam-packed city bus&lt;br /&gt;Stuck on the glass panel above the window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It flapped its wings frantically&lt;br /&gt;Moved its antennae desperately&lt;br /&gt;But it went unnoticed…..&lt;br /&gt;…….in the bustling crowd&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seemed there was no hope&lt;br /&gt;Until…….&lt;br /&gt;Her bony hand reached out …….&lt;br /&gt;…..stretched a piece of paper towards it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The butterfly slithered on to it willingly&lt;br /&gt;She opened the window,&lt;br /&gt;moved the paper out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The butterfly spread its wings&lt;br /&gt;Stretched it beautifully&lt;br /&gt;broad, wide and colourful&lt;br /&gt;It fluttered away happily&lt;br /&gt;into the dense Bougainville bushes&lt;br /&gt;that lined the footpath of the busy road&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her face lit up with joy…….&lt;br /&gt;joy of relief&lt;br /&gt;joy of fulfillment&lt;br /&gt;joy of satisfaction&lt;br /&gt;The joy of freedom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A thought struck her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who will help her……!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To break the barriers blocking her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Break the mould encasing her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cut the strings entangling her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; let her into the terrain of freedom………&lt;br /&gt;……..into the dense void of Eternal bliss&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-6230607921841503920?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/6230607921841503920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=6230607921841503920' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/6230607921841503920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/6230607921841503920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2008/10/stuck.html' title='Freedom'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-3559965279126136530</id><published>2008-09-14T16:08:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-09-14T16:10:03.366+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Eyes</title><content type='html'>It was a lazy Sunday morning&lt;br /&gt;The two were sitting in the balcony&lt;br /&gt;With steaming hot coffee mugs in their hands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her eyes seemed to search something…………..&lt;br /&gt;………for the pair of parakeets on the champak tree&lt;br /&gt;                        That stood elegantly beyond the angle of the balcony&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But He was gazing at her eyes&lt;br /&gt; ...................           Eyes wide and beautiful&lt;br /&gt;He just mused&lt;br /&gt;“ Ahh…! What is she holding in her eyes?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it the vast, blue sky….?&lt;br /&gt;            The sun seems to rise in them&lt;br /&gt;Beaming the golden yellow rays&lt;br /&gt;That lights up my soul&lt;br /&gt;                                    Eyes so shimmering!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or&lt;br /&gt;May be the deep dark ocean&lt;br /&gt;            The waves, massive emerge from them&lt;br /&gt;Rushing with colossal zest&lt;br /&gt;That engulfs my soul&lt;br /&gt;                                    Eyes so mesmerizing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or&lt;br /&gt;Is it a large jewellery box kept open?&lt;br /&gt;            That holds dazzling diamonds &amp;amp; precious pearls&lt;br /&gt;Shining so bright&lt;br /&gt;That is piercing my soul&lt;br /&gt;                                    Eyes so sparkling!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now he said passionately&lt;br /&gt;“What is there ………in your eyes my girl….?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh!!...she exclaimed…&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly remembering something………&lt;br /&gt;“I just forgot…….&lt;br /&gt;            Am so sorry…&lt;br /&gt;                        I just forgot to tell you…….&lt;br /&gt;                                     That…..I bought a new pair of contact lenses!!! “&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-3559965279126136530?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/3559965279126136530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=3559965279126136530' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/3559965279126136530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/3559965279126136530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2008/09/eyes_14.html' title='Eyes'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-7053838794363110554</id><published>2008-08-30T19:26:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-08-30T19:29:22.986+05:30</updated><title type='text'>A Piece of ....errr..........Peace of .......</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;A piece &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;of&lt;/span&gt; cloth&lt;br /&gt;Was lying on the road&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A pack of cute little puppies&lt;br /&gt;A bit curious&lt;br /&gt;           &amp;amp; a bit playful&lt;br /&gt;Chanced upon it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They knew it was not food….&lt;br /&gt;            Smelling food is in their genes !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor were they hungry&lt;br /&gt;            Have sucked enough milk from their mother !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They just played around it&lt;br /&gt;Flipped it,&lt;br /&gt;            Scratched it,&lt;br /&gt;                        Sheared it,&lt;br /&gt; Ripped it into pieces&lt;br /&gt;            With their young sharp teeth &amp;amp; sharp nails&lt;br /&gt;They squealed merrily&lt;br /&gt;As the cloth was reduced to a rag&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what of the piece of cloth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…… pity it……..?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whose fault was it anyway?&lt;br /&gt;Of the puppies…..?&lt;br /&gt;that were playing around&lt;br /&gt;Of the clip…….?&lt;br /&gt; that couldn’t hold the cloth on to the clothesline&lt;br /&gt;Of the autumn winds….?&lt;br /&gt;that blew the cloth off&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;certainly.....none&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but what of the piece of cloth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hm………. pity it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dreams, desires and duties&lt;br /&gt;            Wishes, wants and wisdom&lt;br /&gt;                        Rights &amp;amp; responsibilities&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;………have teeth sharper than canines&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What of the piece of mind?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp;  no one to pity it !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;instead&lt;br /&gt;………..blame it&lt;br /&gt;………………..tame it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; if nothing works…..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slice it,&lt;br /&gt;Silence it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-7053838794363110554?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/7053838794363110554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=7053838794363110554' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/7053838794363110554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/7053838794363110554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2008/08/piece-of-errrpeace-of.html' title='A Piece of ....errr..........Peace of .......'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-3028461766409588024</id><published>2008-08-15T21:05:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-08-15T21:20:36.318+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Happy Father's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;15th  June  2008&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It is that time of the year again. The whole world is celebrating father’s day. Every magazine, every paper carries articles on ‘dear dads’. Photos showing the new age fathers (the metro sexual men as they call themselves) hugging their kids are strewn on the paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being from a conservative family where fathers are required to be strict disciplinarians, my father never showed off his love for his daughters. But his personality has embraced my soul. I can feel the warmth of it through various incidents in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An adamant teen girl that I was, I demanded a brand new saree for college ethnic day celebrations. Mother’s sarees won’t do as they were all old fashioned. My father brought me a new one-a dark green silk saree with peacock embroidery. I never knew how difficult it was for my father to arrange money for it, being the only earning member in the family feeding six mouths &amp;amp; giving the best possible education to four dear daughters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got a prize in a school essay contest, my father congratulated me &amp;amp; said “You have prepared for it, all by yourself! That shows your hard work. I am no good in such things to help you out”. But it was not necessary for my father to sit besides me helping with my essays. He has given us everything in the form of books. From Ruskin Bond to Arundathi Roy, Wren &amp;amp; Martin to Prof. L.S. Sheshariri Rao, DVG to Abdul Kalam, I have always got every book I have asked for &amp;amp; also what I haven’t asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of books I am reminded of a few of my classmates. All of them from affluent families. They would wear swanky clothes &amp;amp; come in snazzy bikes to college. But they never bought text books. They would stand in queue to borrow books from library or get important topics xeroxed ie..photocopied. But I bought all my text books. Brand new ones &amp;amp; father asked me never to buy an old edition or second hand books &amp;amp; never ever borrow books.....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;OH.!! I can go on &amp;amp; on &amp;amp; on speaking of so many incidents but lest me stop here...will continue someother time.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-3028461766409588024?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/3028461766409588024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=3028461766409588024' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/3028461766409588024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/3028461766409588024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2008/08/happy-fathers-day.html' title='Happy Father&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-4944857040884785301</id><published>2008-08-10T20:30:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-08-10T20:34:07.461+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The Key</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;The doors were locked &lt;br /&gt;Since a long time&lt;br /&gt;The doors ………….of her mind&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one saw what lay beyond…….&lt;br /&gt;……behind the closed doors &lt;br /&gt; In the realm of darkness&lt;br /&gt; In the vast lands of her mind…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doors were locked&lt;br /&gt; &amp; the key was lost &lt;br /&gt; ……..lost in the abyss of seclusion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silver fishes were swimming merrily in the pages of her mind&lt;br /&gt;Spiders weaved webs of thoughts in the four rooms of her heart&lt;br /&gt;Dust gathered on the wall was thick enough…&lt;br /&gt; ……..thick enough to block anything,&lt;br /&gt; Anything soft &amp; gentle from entering in &lt;br /&gt;  …….the warm rays of sunlight&lt;br /&gt;   …….the pearly drops of dew&lt;br /&gt;    ……&amp; the whips of fresh air &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;Her friends tried breaking in&lt;br /&gt;To set her mind free, &lt;br /&gt;  to let her enjoy the little joys of life&lt;br /&gt;  …….they couldn’t &lt;br /&gt;Her foes tried breaking in too&lt;br /&gt;To set her mind free,&lt;br /&gt; To let her get distracted from her path&lt;br /&gt;  …….they couldn’t &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a breezy Friday morning of August&lt;br /&gt;She was lost amidst her files &amp; drawings &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wind tried blowing her hairs a bit  &lt;br /&gt;She tightened her hair pin &lt;br /&gt;  That locked her jet black locks tight &lt;br /&gt;Lest it doesn’t disturbs her work&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was looking at her…….&lt;br /&gt;………leaning against the window&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She guessed what he might say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You look beautiful……….. if you let your locks free”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dialogue she was tired of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has heard that a hundred times before &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From hundreds of people around her&lt;br /&gt;She has heard that………&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;………From the boys playing marbles &lt;br /&gt;  When she used to jump across the hopscotch&lt;br /&gt;………From the boys in the back benches in school&lt;br /&gt;  When she was busy jotting down notes&lt;br /&gt;……….From across the test tubes in the college lab &lt;br /&gt;  When she was busy preparing solutions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She knew the tricks of trade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp; so……she delved deeper into her files&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he didn’t say that…….. !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“you may get headache &lt;br /&gt; If you tie your wet hairs………&lt;br /&gt; ………used to tell my mother&lt;br /&gt;  To my little sister……..&lt;br /&gt;My pretty little sister…….&lt;br /&gt; ……… used to hide behind me&lt;br /&gt; as my mother dried her wet hairs with a soft towel……..”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So saying ……..he was lost in thoughts&lt;br /&gt;  ……..lost in memories&lt;br /&gt;   ……..lost in the cosy corners of his home….. far away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her hands seemed to have their own whim&lt;br /&gt;They just removed the hairpin from her locks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now she just wonders……..&lt;br /&gt; Sitting besides him ……….&lt;br /&gt; ……….in the garden at dusk &lt;br /&gt;     …….as the wind blows her silky hairs&lt;br /&gt;      …….a soft little curl tickles her ears&lt;br /&gt;She smiles &amp; wonders……….&lt;br /&gt; How did he open the lock..!?&lt;br /&gt;  The lock of her mind&lt;br /&gt;   A lock so intricately designed &lt;br /&gt;    Lock which none could open...Over the years……&lt;br /&gt;……………with a humble hairpin ………&lt;br /&gt;That too was hers!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-4944857040884785301?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/4944857040884785301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=4944857040884785301' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/4944857040884785301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/4944857040884785301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2008/08/key.html' title='&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Key&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-7620753224294924056</id><published>2008-06-29T16:19:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-29T18:28:41.598+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The Rainbow</title><content type='html'>It was the month of June&lt;br /&gt;The month of monsoon rains…&lt;br /&gt;The long, wide road lined with trees&lt;br /&gt;..........seemed to wait for the visitors&lt;br /&gt;With the red carpet spread on the road&lt;br /&gt;A red carpet ……….of Gulmohars&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little girl on her way home&lt;br /&gt;Stopped at the sight of beautiful reds&lt;br /&gt;Her eyes fixed at the red canopy&lt;br /&gt;If only she could pluck a bunch………..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then a small boy came along&lt;br /&gt;A bag hanging from his shoulders&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;                        ‘ Oh…!!What flowers..!!&lt;/em&gt; His eyes gleamed with joy&lt;br /&gt;                                      ‘&lt;em&gt;Come on ……..we will pluck some’&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He hugged the trunk of tree&lt;br /&gt;Crawled up…... climbed up…….,&lt;br /&gt;Stood on a low branch of the giant tree&lt;br /&gt;His hand stretched down …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;em&gt;’come on little girl, it’s so Dreamy up here!’&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wide eyed girl seemed puzzled&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;‘Shall I ?!... shall I not??!!’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her eyes gazed the huge red umbrella above&lt;br /&gt;Mesmerized her little soft hands went around the rough trunk&lt;br /&gt;She creeped along its crevices&lt;br /&gt;Clutched the boys hand&lt;br /&gt;Jumped on with delight……..jumped up with joy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;‘Wow!!!’&lt;/em&gt;…was all she could utter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;‘Come on….up here…up still…’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Moved the boy higher &amp;amp; higher&lt;br /&gt;Pulling along the little girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There they were at the top of the tree&lt;br /&gt;The dark clouds seemed to hug them&lt;br /&gt;The sky looked like a canvas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;‘Let’s paint a Rainbow’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;The boy took out a brush &amp;amp;&lt;br /&gt;A box full of colors from his bag&lt;br /&gt;His deft hands stroked colors …one by one&lt;br /&gt;Across the blue sky, in a big bow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl watched in awe&lt;br /&gt;                    &amp;amp; sheer admiration&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Violet…… indigo……. Blue……. Green…… Yellow.... Orange………&amp;amp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;He just stopped……..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;‘Oh............!! I don’t have red..?’&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;‘Not to worry’&lt;/em&gt; …said the girl smiling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;……..lets get it from the Gulmohars’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys face lit up….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They heard a worried sweet voice&lt;br /&gt;From the ground…. From the base of the tree&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;‘Come on dear boy…its time to go home’&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;‘Oh!! Yes mom……...coming….........’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Said the little boy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;‘Let’s get down….’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He clutched the girls’ hand&lt;br /&gt;Pulled her down the branches&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;‘But…….the Rainbo……&amp;amp; the Gulmo……?’&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;‘Will do it on the morrow....’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a blink …there they were on the Ground&lt;br /&gt;The Boy ran to his mom,&lt;br /&gt;Turned back…….. Waved his hand&lt;br /&gt;The two just went away…….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl looked up&lt;br /&gt;There it was …………the unfinished Rainbow&lt;br /&gt;                              ……...that had no Red&lt;br /&gt;She sighed …………..started walking back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summers…, springs…, winters…&lt;br /&gt;                 Seasons rolled over&lt;br /&gt;                         …………&amp;amp; that morrow never came&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But still ……….&lt;br /&gt;The girl sighs……..when the rains lash&lt;br /&gt;                    ………when Gulmohars bloom&lt;br /&gt;                            ………when she sees an unfinished Rainbow&lt;br /&gt;                                   ………..bent across the sky in a bow………that has no Red in it…….&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-7620753224294924056?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/7620753224294924056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=7620753224294924056' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/7620753224294924056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/7620753224294924056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2008/06/rainbow.html' title='The Rainbow'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-2332545606379866710</id><published>2008-05-27T18:17:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-27T18:33:24.128+05:30</updated><title type='text'>THE APPLE CART</title><content type='html'>The cart was filled with sweet apples&lt;br /&gt;But the sweetness couldn’t be seen in its color&lt;br /&gt;Apples were dull,&lt;br /&gt;not bright red&lt;br /&gt;but pale yellowish&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The vendor was worried&lt;br /&gt;Who will buy his apples…?&lt;br /&gt;Apples that didn’t shine ……those were not bright red&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little boy with shabby clothes&lt;br /&gt;With a stick that moved meticulously,&lt;br /&gt;the rim of a cycle tyre,&lt;br /&gt;stopped by the apple cart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was hungry&lt;br /&gt;Took an apple in his hand &amp;amp;&lt;br /&gt;“Can I buy this apple sir?”&lt;br /&gt;The apple seemed to smile in his hand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How much will u pay?&lt;br /&gt;I have just Rs. 2 sir&lt;br /&gt;Said the little boy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahaha…&lt;br /&gt;Laughed the vendor&lt;br /&gt;“I am selling apples dear boy…&lt;br /&gt;….Not guavas&lt;br /&gt;An apple for Rs. 2!!!! Ha….ha…ha…”&lt;br /&gt;He snatched the apple from the&lt;br /&gt;Little boys’ hand&lt;br /&gt;The apple writhed in pain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy tried hard to stop his tears&lt;br /&gt;Clutching his cycle tyre &amp;amp; the stick&lt;br /&gt;He ran away from there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one bought the apples,&lt;br /&gt;Apples that didn’t shine,&lt;br /&gt;That were not bright red,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The vendor took out his scarf,&lt;br /&gt;Started rubbing apples… each one of them…&lt;br /&gt;With a speed that defied time,&lt;br /&gt;Apples writhed in pain under his vigor&lt;br /&gt;Then, took out a bunch of stickers&lt;br /&gt;from his dirty shirt pocket,&lt;br /&gt;started  pasting  it on apples…..all of them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One by one he arranged them&lt;br /&gt;In a perfect sequence,&lt;br /&gt;sequence that turned heads,&lt;br /&gt;caught eyes &amp;amp; stopped speeding cars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apples shone,&lt;br /&gt;bright red,&lt;br /&gt;labeled,&lt;br /&gt; but…. withered inside&lt;br /&gt;            withered…..being rubbed by the vendor,&lt;br /&gt;                        withered…..being stamped with labels,&lt;br /&gt;                                    withered….being unable to satiate a little boys hunger,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the vendor laughed……..&lt;br /&gt;Laughed at the thought&lt;br /&gt;……of his moneybox being filled to the brim.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-2332545606379866710?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/2332545606379866710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=2332545606379866710' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/2332545606379866710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/2332545606379866710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2008/05/apple-cart.html' title='THE APPLE CART'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-7752989419737284292</id><published>2008-04-23T20:37:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-04-28T22:16:54.262+05:30</updated><title type='text'>A CONVERSATION</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;It was a hot Saturday afternoon. Maithry was busy in her room preparing her quarterly performance report. Just then her mom came in “putty, r u busy? Pay a visit to the beauty parlour, we have a visitor in the evening”. “hm..ok” grumbled Maithry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The visitor – the prospective groom who was to come at 5.30 arrived at 7.30 &amp;amp; blamed the Bangalore traffic for the delay. Now, after savouring the special dishes served the prospective groom &amp;amp; Maithry went to the terrace to “exchange” their views………maithry noticed her neighbour – a north Indian lady peeping out of her window to get a glimpse of the prospective groom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Prospective Groom:&lt;/strong&gt; hi, let me say a few things about myself first. U might be knowing I am working as manager in the QC dept. of this famous biotech co., I joined there as a store keeper for a paltry salary u know!? I have climbed the success ladder with lot of hard work &amp;amp; years of efforts. I have achieved soooo much though I am just a science graduate. I am a self made man u know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Maithry:&lt;/strong&gt; hm…(smile)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(She wondered…. is he speaking to me or addressing a bunch of fresh recruits in his co.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PG:&lt;/strong&gt; I am a happy man now…but I was happy when I had nothing as well. That’s the principle for my life…be happy whether u have money or not. I have never borrowed a single rupee from any one in my life. I may lose my job one fine day then also I will be happy &amp;amp; I want ‘you’ also to be happy in such a situation as well. I am not bothered about u r qualification &amp;amp; u r job. Its upto u to decide whether u want to work or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;M:&lt;/strong&gt; hm….&lt;br /&gt;(She thought “why is he speaking as if I am already his wife! she wanted to say that she did her engineering from the education loan that her dad got &amp;amp; she has got a career graph that’s any bodies envy……..but kept quiet)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PG:&lt;/strong&gt; ours is a big family you know….I have got four elder sisters who are married &amp;amp; settled &amp;amp; two elder brothers who r not married…. they r not financially very well &amp;amp; am supporting them. I want you too to take care of them very well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;M:&lt;/strong&gt; hm…&lt;br /&gt;(she thought is that an order or what?! she thought of asking why his brothers were not married.. but thought that is none of her business &amp;amp; so kept mum)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PG:&lt;/strong&gt; I respect elders very much. I want you also to respect everyone in my family &amp;amp; you should treat everyone of them with high regard………. &amp;amp; I think its my responsibility to take care of my parents. Isn’t it the duty of children to take care of parents? What do u say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;M:&lt;/strong&gt; Agreed…By the way…. my mom said u r parents live in u r village.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PG:&lt;/strong&gt; oh ya… I was alone here na…&amp;amp; am quite busy with all my responsibilities in the co. I am the manager in the company na…..but once we r married my parents will come &amp;amp; stay with us. You must “take care”of them very well. They r quite aged &amp;amp; isn’t it “our” responsibility to look after them...hmm?&lt;br /&gt;(Maithry wondered why his English came down from corporate level to friendly chat) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;M:&lt;/strong&gt; hm... I too want to take care of my parents. May not be now. But perhaps in their old age&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PG:&lt;/strong&gt; (gave a startled look &amp;amp; mumbled) of course ….your parents should also be “respected”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maithry thought it was enough &amp;amp; wanted to end the conversation but the guy suddenly remembered something &amp;amp; started of……&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PG:&lt;/strong&gt; do you watch TV? I like S M Janakiram’s serials very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Maithry:&lt;/strong&gt; hm… (She wanted to say I hate serials &amp;amp; prefer watching NGC or MTV if she had time but she didn’t)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy suddenly shifted to Kannada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PG:&lt;/strong&gt; nanige yavdu ketta abhyasagalu illa…nanu thumba adarshagal iro manushya…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…………..pause………….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nan helidna hege nambtheeya?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(maithry thought of asking him how will he - believe her …but kept quiet)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prapancha ninthirode nambike mele alva….ond sala commit madkond mele adakke baddhavag irbeko ….nambike droha madbaardu….alva…neenen heltheeya?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maithry felt a bit giddy &amp;amp; she knew the dialogues he hammered were lifted from one of those TV serials that he watched &amp;amp; she felt irritated by the way he addressed her…she thought… English is a strange language …u can’t make out whether it is ‘neenu’ or ‘neevu’ when somebody says ‘you’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had had enough &amp;amp; said “shall we go?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PG:&lt;/strong&gt; Ha ok…nimge yenadru prashnegalidre dharalvag kelbodu… feel free to ask me….any time…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Maithry felt his tone &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;has suddenly&lt;/span&gt; mellowed down)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘ha khanditha’………..said Maithry &amp;amp; started walking down the stairs…without waiting for him to lead the way….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The time was 9.30pm &amp;amp; Maithry came into the balcony after her dinner. Her north Indian neighbour seemed to be waiting for her…. peeping through the window, with her face lit up with excitement she said ............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“kyaa decide kiya Maithry…ladka tho bahuth smart hey…bahuth fair bhi hey…. bilkul chocolate hero hey….”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;M:&lt;/strong&gt; ha didi …par zyada chocolate khane se danth mey sadan ho jathey hey…….heyna?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn’t it true dear….she is Maithry living in 2008 &amp;amp; not Savithri of the puranas. &amp;amp; wonder why men still try impressing a girl by being Sri Ramachandra prabhu ....with all those double standards of the Ramayana intact!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-7752989419737284292?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/7752989419737284292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=7752989419737284292' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/7752989419737284292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/7752989419737284292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2008/04/conversation.html' title='A CONVERSATION'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-9054819028065995627</id><published>2008-04-20T11:56:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-04-20T12:01:18.483+05:30</updated><title type='text'>ignorance is bliss..............</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;January 6, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today morning I got up late, got ready &amp;amp; hurried to the bus stop. Got into the bus &amp;amp; was lost in thoughts. When I got down near the factory I was startled! My office building has just disappeared!! Am I still sleeping &amp;amp; is this a dream? Or some problem with my eyesight?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked around &amp;amp; saw hazy pictures of people entering the gate. Oh! It was just the morning fog. It was so thick that you can hardly make out what lies after five steps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made my way through the fog. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;uncertainty&lt;/span&gt; of what lays a few steps ahead scared me a bit. But soon I reconciled myself &amp;amp; started enjoying the bliss of ignorance…………the ignorance about the person you are going to meet after a few steps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it going to be an old familiar face? Or a perfect stranger with a friendly smile or your ever arguing, never agreeing dictator boss? Or your co-operative, supportive colleague.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my mind……., it is just a phase that you are going through. Just be calm &amp;amp; accept your ignorance. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;uncertainty&lt;/span&gt; of future, the unsettled thoughts of getting settled, unpredictability of practical things &amp;amp; impractical things that are quite predictable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just wait……..as the sun rises through the horizon, the fog disappears. But you can’t move the sun at your whim. He moves at his own pace. But he sure will rise across the horizon and clear the fog. So be patient and learn to accept &amp;amp;…………….. enjoy your ignorance!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-9054819028065995627?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/9054819028065995627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=9054819028065995627' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/9054819028065995627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/9054819028065995627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2008/04/ignorance-is-bliss.html' title='ignorance is bliss..............'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-2367376633380917519</id><published>2008-03-22T20:43:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-23T21:25:32.629+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Swing of Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up.............. down................. up.................... here goes the swing&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes along the wind&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes against the wind&lt;br /&gt;“Enjoy the swing little girl”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her little friends stand behind her&lt;br /&gt;Push her &amp;amp; cheer loudly&lt;br /&gt;A few strong hands push her higher &amp;amp; higher&lt;br /&gt;The girl laughs merrily………&lt;br /&gt;……… as the swing goes up in wind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few tender hands push her lightly …… hands not strong enough&lt;br /&gt;“ stamp your feet on the ground dear…&lt;br /&gt;… so that you can swing higher “&lt;br /&gt;Says the tender hands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And two graceful figures …… Stand beside the swing&lt;br /&gt;Leaning over the pole……… Watching the little girl swing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lines on their face says they have seen&lt;br /&gt;…… many many such swings&lt;br /&gt;“Why don’t they push me?!” thinks the little girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little kids get tired of pushing&lt;br /&gt;They leave her swing &amp;amp; go play for themselves&lt;br /&gt;The two step in now&lt;br /&gt;they just rock the swing&lt;br /&gt;……… as the swing looks like a cradle to them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little girl turned back &amp;amp; saw a twinkle in their eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little girl, it’s not in their eyes…..&lt;br /&gt;That’s the dream in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;.........................getting reflected in theirs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swing along little girl&lt;br /&gt;Merrily along the wind&lt;br /&gt;Boldly across the wind&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; bravely against the wind…………&lt;br /&gt;…………… that gushes through your ears&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-2367376633380917519?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/2367376633380917519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=2367376633380917519' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/2367376633380917519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/2367376633380917519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2008/03/swing.html' title='Swing of Life'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-2156435746230517605</id><published>2008-03-21T15:17:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-23T21:22:52.099+05:30</updated><title type='text'>A BAG FULL OF MEMEORIES</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Written when i moved out of the department&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pack your bags dear…&lt;br /&gt;It is time to move out&lt;br /&gt;Move out of the office room&lt;br /&gt;Room filled with things &amp;amp; just things&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But things seem to have a life…………….A life of their own&lt;br /&gt;The creaky chairs, noisy tables,&lt;br /&gt;The cleaning cloth &amp;amp; the unclean racks&lt;br /&gt;The dustbin filled with chocolate wrappers &amp;amp; tablet covers&lt;br /&gt;The numbered files, unused covers&lt;br /&gt;The calendars of a bygone year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bag is filled to the brim&lt;br /&gt;With memories &amp;amp; just memories&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Memories&lt;br /&gt;Of Smiles, guffaws, cheers &amp;amp; tears&lt;br /&gt;Of sweet chocolates that melted in mouth&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; those which got stuck&lt;br /&gt;Of Letters accepted, rejected &amp;amp; saved forever&lt;br /&gt;Of Pins, pens &amp;amp; stickers abased, lost, got &amp;amp; given away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The writings in the log book&lt;br /&gt;read, laughed at, misspelt, &amp;amp; missed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tiny yellow stickers that scared, reminded &amp;amp; shared the work&lt;br /&gt;Tiny red knives that teared papers, carved labels &amp;amp; shared apples&lt;br /&gt;Glittering wrappers that changed hands &amp;amp; changed minds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The motors &amp;amp; minds burnt &amp;amp; rewound&lt;br /&gt;The bills, cheques, requests &amp;amp; doubts paid, cleared &amp;amp; left pending&lt;br /&gt;Hairs &amp;amp; thoughts left astray&lt;br /&gt;Songs &amp;amp; messages played, saved and deleted&lt;br /&gt;Clips and photos shared, hidden and flashed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But one thing seems unfazed…………the window grill&lt;br /&gt;The window grill that had witnessed many things&lt;br /&gt;The bright, sunny mornings&lt;br /&gt;The foggy, chilled mornings&lt;br /&gt;The scorching hot middays&lt;br /&gt;The cool, cloudy noons&lt;br /&gt;Soothing breeze in the evenings,&lt;br /&gt;The tender drops, drizzles and heavy downpours……..&lt;br /&gt;…………Both on that side as well on this side&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh….! Is it the third siren dear?&lt;br /&gt;Is your bag ready?&lt;br /&gt;Close the window and switch off the lights&lt;br /&gt;Shall I lock the door now?&lt;br /&gt;Hey……! What is this I am hearing?&lt;br /&gt;Did u forget your cell phone ?&lt;br /&gt;“No nonsense, it is in my bag”&lt;br /&gt;Then from where is this music beaming out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm…………… the table drawer is singing!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-2156435746230517605?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/2156435746230517605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=2156435746230517605' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/2156435746230517605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/2156435746230517605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2008/03/bag-full-of-memeories.html' title='A BAG FULL OF MEMEORIES'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792440733911000778.post-686272138868509612</id><published>2007-09-02T16:32:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-23T21:44:57.210+05:30</updated><title type='text'>believe it or not</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/RtqbSg783sI/AAAAAAAAAAM/_nCvknzknL4/s1600-h/Blue+hills.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105563869959216834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/RtqbSg783sI/AAAAAAAAAAM/_nCvknzknL4/s320/Blue+hills.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is a not a bedtime story as it looks like&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;once upon a time there lived a bunny and an owl in the deep forests of western ghats&lt;br /&gt;the owl always wanted to have the bunny for its lunch&lt;br /&gt;the wise bunny somehow escaped&lt;br /&gt;but on a full moon day a beautiful angel came to the forest&lt;br /&gt;the bunny came out to see the angel&lt;br /&gt;just then the owl jumped on the bunny and killed it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the angel felt pity for the bunny and asked it had any last wish&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the bunny replied&lt;br /&gt;" i want the eyesight of the owl as it is so sharp and a heart as light as u&lt;br /&gt;and i would like to retain one of my bunny quality in my next birth......."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the bunny meant the fairness of its skin&lt;br /&gt;but the angel gave it its teeth!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus a girl was born with bunny teeth and owls eyes with a dark complexion and a light heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now it is for u to find out who the girl is&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792440733911000778-686272138868509612?l=geethascribbling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/feeds/686272138868509612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4792440733911000778&amp;postID=686272138868509612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/686272138868509612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792440733911000778/posts/default/686272138868509612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://geethascribbling.blogspot.com/2007/09/believe-it-or-not.html' title='believe it or not'/><author><name>Geetha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13971625975707041522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/SlCyfqtDDgI/AAAAAAAABBE/VsPAJIqYpMQ/S220/Little_girl_on_swing.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wM2BHLk66WY/RtqbSg783sI/AAAAAAAAAAM/_nCvknzknL4/s72-c/Blue+hills.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
