<?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-3010358554833970361</id><updated>2012-02-16T22:14:22.921+05:30</updated><category term='Work'/><category term='Experiences'/><category term='Inspirational'/><category term='Songs'/><category term='My stories'/><category term='Birth Life Death...'/><category term='Happiness'/><category term='Pain'/><category term='Wedding'/><category term='God'/><category term='Love'/><title type='text'>BEFORE I SLEEP...</title><subtitle type='html'>Where have all the flowers gone... 
You use to bring to me ???
Days are now so endless...
Remove me from this pain...
Longing to be beside you...
How I wanted you to stay...
Getting very tired now,
Been holding on so long...
Please come and rescue me,
It's with you where I belong</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>RM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05573149911692734853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srkd2v1aTpI/AAAAAAAAAQo/NSDxszCPcTs/S220/nf.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010358554833970361.post-925012558181744994</id><published>2010-01-28T16:37:00.027+05:30</published><updated>2010-02-23T09:41:12.061+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Implicit Words and Explicit Feelings...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/S4DUinaLFaI/AAAAAAAAAUI/T-67Af3CPbk/s1600-h/couple-holding-hands-photographic-p.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440582041022961058" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/S4DUinaLFaI/AAAAAAAAAUI/T-67Af3CPbk/s200/couple-holding-hands-photographic-p.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; A drop of tear rolled out from my eyes when I said ‘bye’. He remains silent with a polite nod. The sight raised my heartbeat like a tiny flower bursting through soulless concrete. I wished to give him a hug, but withdrawn myself. I was not sure how he would anticipate my deepest longing for his presence and companionship. After a few seconds of brooding silence he carefully put his arm around me and allowed the snuggle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It was just one hour back I called him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Hello”,&lt;/em&gt; he answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Hi, how is the day?”&lt;/em&gt; I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Huh…It’s hectic as usual”&lt;br /&gt;“Rohit, can we meet for a last time?”&lt;br /&gt;“Let me see, can’t assure…&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;will see if I can leave office early”, he replied.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Ok…call me then…I will wait. Bye”,&lt;/em&gt; I disconnected. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Years of friendship… passage of time make a new state of transformation to our relationship… Can I name it ‘LOVE’? Not exactly… I am still not sure whether he loves me or not. Or is that something called ‘LUST’? Whatever it named, there is certainly a special place for him in my heart. May be that’s the reason am still chasing him or the fear of losing him… the fear of rejection… I always wish him to say me &lt;em&gt;'I love you',&lt;/em&gt; but doesn't seems particularly apparent.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;One day I talked to him about my insecurity due to his ignorance (knowingly or unknowingly). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Priya, you are thinking too much… There's nothing like you think. Just leave the topic”,&lt;/em&gt; then he started talking as usual, as nothing happened. The day I decided to stop grumble him with my questions. Afterall he is my favourite friend… And I am happy for what he is...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Priya, what are you thinking?”&lt;/em&gt; he interrogated. I was awakened from my thoughts and Rohit was sitting near me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Oh..I was just thinking”&lt;/em&gt; I answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Thinking what?”&lt;/em&gt; he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Do you really love me?”&lt;/em&gt; I wanted to ask him, but kept quiet for a moment and replied, &lt;em&gt;“Nothing”. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/em&gt;These are the few last moments. In five minutes he will leave me. I had a strange feeling in my head, my heart pounded wildly. I said ‘Goodbye’ and kissed his cheek. He willingly let me slide from his arms and allowed me to go. While I walked away, I turned back a moment for him to stop me and call me back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And at last, all the pictures have been burned. I am going to miss him forever, miss the stories untold, the unsung song of our love, those dryness... But life has to go on...so we too... Dear, hope you dont forget 'us'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3010358554833970361-925012558181744994?l=b4sleep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/feeds/925012558181744994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3010358554833970361&amp;postID=925012558181744994' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/925012558181744994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/925012558181744994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/2010/01/implicit-words-and-explicit-feelings.html' title='Implicit Words and Explicit Feelings...'/><author><name>RM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05573149911692734853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srkd2v1aTpI/AAAAAAAAAQo/NSDxszCPcTs/S220/nf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/S4DUinaLFaI/AAAAAAAAAUI/T-67Af3CPbk/s72-c/couple-holding-hands-photographic-p.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010358554833970361.post-4943709251766735718</id><published>2009-11-17T11:16:00.007+05:30</published><updated>2010-01-19T15:05:44.146+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Its pouring and pouring and pouring.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Wow.... What a climate !!! I love this... Its RAINING now a days... sooo beautiful and healing... as it soothes the spirit. I am one of those people who are hopeless romantic... when I see rain, when I hear it and when I'm in the rain...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday.... the afternoon was pretty nice... I was talking to a candidate in the office, gentle breeze coming with a sense of earth. I looked out for a while, the harsh sunlight seemed to roll everywhere, shadows of trees swaying to and fro... the scudding clouds made the scene much more dramatic... All came out of a sudden, outside the window I saw, an young boy screaming with his tender voice "Its raining...raining". I couldn't help looking out the sky, where the water sprinkled from the burdened clouds of mournful grey... Its just happened in two minutes... a burst of rain like falling beans... &lt;em&gt;What a day !!! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was still raining on the way back to my hostel, with my collegue, in his SWIFT... Unlike other days, I asked him to put on the AC to its maximum... We stopped near the roadside YADAV chat and ordered my favourite '&lt;em&gt;Pani Puri'.&lt;/em&gt; Hmmm....&lt;em&gt;Yummy !!!&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we had the spicy &lt;em&gt;'Chilli Bajji', &lt;/em&gt;sitting inside the freezing car, my eyes turned red and I couldn't resist my tears coming out... Oh... It was toooo spicy... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You are crying!!! Atleast stop eating now", he laughed at me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm enjoying it",&lt;/em&gt; I said myself and smiled.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked all my way to hostel from the bus stop, just to relish the beauty of rain once again. That was the time I realized the allure of the romantic songs playing in my iPod. It matched with the environment perfectly. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"I really miss you here, my love..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rain, rain go away... is what most people says...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Rain, rain don't go away... I hope you stay... is what I wish.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3010358554833970361-4943709251766735718?l=b4sleep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/feeds/4943709251766735718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3010358554833970361&amp;postID=4943709251766735718' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/4943709251766735718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/4943709251766735718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/2009/11/its-pouring-and-pouring-and-pouring.html' title='Its pouring and pouring and pouring.....'/><author><name>RM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05573149911692734853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srkd2v1aTpI/AAAAAAAAAQo/NSDxszCPcTs/S220/nf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010358554833970361.post-6720350749732994140</id><published>2009-09-22T03:59:00.011+05:30</published><updated>2009-11-13T12:38:58.997+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inspirational'/><title type='text'>THE ESOTERIC FACT</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/SrkPE-0_QWI/AAAAAAAAANg/l7wdsnW4Py4/s1600-h/images+(12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 40px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 40px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384351407757279586" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/SrkPE-0_QWI/AAAAAAAAANg/l7wdsnW4Py4/s200/images+(12.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Seeing the sea&lt;/b&gt;, the truth of rankled memories agitated my mind for a moment, the frigid touch of tides sometimes brings the blaze of past to me, like everyone. The glitters of uncalled days.... I saw the names written in sand, the ocean waves washes it away, but just for that moment it was there. Even the sea has a lot to tell.....memories of happiness and griefs of many.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;Remembrance seems a complete anathema to most people when it brings back those flash from the past. It was fun, it was crazy and it was joyous. But now it is a swearing remark of those days...Like the woe of fallen angels or the misfortune of ripened leaves...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;After a long time, today I thought to write something in my blog as I didn't feel to sleep even at 1:30 AM. After the hectic journeys of last week, I certainly wished for a break, physically and psychologically. Moreover, my heart yearned for the vast horizons of peace, a state of calm, either to gain my gayness or to find a way of living with God. The harder I tried, the lesser it happened. I felt myself dropped in an ocean midway and expect to swim my way through. It wasn't easy for me to stop fighting with my thoughts as it has created chaos on the moral level. Sometimes I find my comfort zone in music, sometimes movies, books etc... But I failed to ensure that comfort level to my spiritual being. Slowly, after a few days I decided the new routine of thinkings, tried to lighten the burden of judgments.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Smile Always:&lt;/b&gt; My new discovery... Smile, even though we are hooked to the most melancholic situation. When I started practice this, my soul filled with a child-like enthusiasm. That experience was new to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Stop Prejudice:&lt;/b&gt; With me it's all about deep-seated prejudices and emotional connections. However, in some instances obtaining consent may be difficult. But the calamity is that, it will drag us to the utterly boundless myths.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Let the other person also save his face:&lt;/b&gt; Finally, you must allay the concerns to say SORRY when required. Its about giving respect to others. Its about thinking the best of others and evaluate yourselves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3010358554833970361-6720350749732994140?l=b4sleep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/feeds/6720350749732994140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3010358554833970361&amp;postID=6720350749732994140' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/6720350749732994140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/6720350749732994140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/2009/09/esoteric-fact.html' title='THE ESOTERIC FACT'/><author><name>RM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05573149911692734853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srkd2v1aTpI/AAAAAAAAAQo/NSDxszCPcTs/S220/nf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/SrkPE-0_QWI/AAAAAAAAANg/l7wdsnW4Py4/s72-c/images+(12.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010358554833970361.post-1129907769262582589</id><published>2009-07-10T18:23:00.032+05:30</published><updated>2009-09-23T02:06:52.528+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Love your job???</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk1WfDDveI/AAAAAAAAARI/oSTZDGRzI4s/s1600-h/images+(3).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 40px; height: 40px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk1WfDDveI/AAAAAAAAARI/oSTZDGRzI4s/s200/images+(3).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384393489905860066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Does Management know their Staff?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;On walking into the factory, the MD noticed a young guy leaning against the wall, doing nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He approached the young man and calmly said to him, "How much do you earn?"&lt;br /&gt;The young man was quite amazed that he was asked such a personal question, he replied, none the less, "I earn $ 2 000.00 a month, Sir. Why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Without answering, the MD took out his wallet and removed $6000.00 cash and gave it to the young man and said, "Around here I pay people for working, not for standing around looking pretty! Here is your 3 months salary, now GET OUT and don't come back".&lt;br /&gt;The young man turned around and was quickly out of sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noticing a few onlookers, the MD said in a very upset manner, "And that applies for everybody in this company".&lt;br /&gt;He approached one of the onlookers and asked him, "Who's the young man that I just fired?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To which an amazing reply came of, "He was the pizza delivery man, Sir....!"&lt;br /&gt;:-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Yet Again.... Cost Cutting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/SleZcZhGqpI/AAAAAAAAALA/9eKx3MecBi4/s1600-h/job.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356918994945616530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 284px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 221px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/SleZcZhGqpI/AAAAAAAAALA/9eKx3MecBi4/s320/job.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Now it is a period of global economic slow down,commonly mentioned as 'recession'.I would say, it is an agressive reason or excuse for the organization to terminate even its high-spirited employee. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Let me give you some tips here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Love your work, not your company&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;2. Be loyal to your family, not to your CEO or the BOSS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;3. Think about your future and growth, not your organization's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;4. During high time, your CEO will say, "Great work guys, keep it up. Its your company". At the time of crisis, he will say "What the f**k you guys are doing here, better buckle down. This is my company."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;5. Dare to join the company who pays you well, without thinking of the fate of company&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;6. Make more money and for that keep jumping companies for every 2 yrs &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;(Seriously, am not joking... :-) )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3010358554833970361-1129907769262582589?l=b4sleep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/feeds/1129907769262582589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3010358554833970361&amp;postID=1129907769262582589' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/1129907769262582589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/1129907769262582589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/2009/07/does-management-know-their-staff-on.html' title='Love your job???'/><author><name>RM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05573149911692734853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srkd2v1aTpI/AAAAAAAAAQo/NSDxszCPcTs/S220/nf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk1WfDDveI/AAAAAAAAARI/oSTZDGRzI4s/s72-c/images+(3).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010358554833970361.post-7938159483882239612</id><published>2009-06-23T01:56:00.051+05:30</published><updated>2010-03-14T16:50:33.971+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inspirational'/><title type='text'>Innocent Victims of Cupid...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk1eh2nB9I/AAAAAAAAARQ/cFoXbg7tt_s/s1600-h/images+(4).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 40px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 40px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384393628097906642" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk1eh2nB9I/AAAAAAAAARQ/cFoXbg7tt_s/s200/images+(4).jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/SkBk-AMCOsI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/VDqv_JQmxfs/s1600-h/valentine-9906.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 206px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 275px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350387373681294018" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/SkBk-AMCOsI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/VDqv_JQmxfs/s320/valentine-9906.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Love Hurts???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I must have cried a million tears when I lost my 'first love'. The best part is, it is not my 'Love' that hurts me, but my 'perception' made me cry all the time. 'Love' is such a powerful word, which often people misuse it. It can be filled with imagery that paints a beautiful but sometimes dark canvass which express feelings of anger, hurt, betrayal, and loss which follow a failed relationship. This is the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;'Cost of Love'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Last year I saw an incident of a planned suicide by a 'love jodi'. The scene of their cold body in the railway track really has made me in a funk. What drifted them to do that??? I immersed in thoughts, the reasons it seems, their parents didn't allow for their marriage, or the girl is pregnant and coward to disclose it and so on....But I miserably failed to uphold those reasons. Why didn't they think about their parents, who has struggled to brought them up with good education and the standard of living. They had families to feed and dreams to fulfill. Why did they just think about their love rather than their parent's ??? Realize it atleast now, Marriage is not the ultimate goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic; FONT-WEIGHT: bold" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;PS : 'Death' - a solution of your problems???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Why do you suddenly feel so out of place when it hurts?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; For the moment, it may even feel like that you're never going to emerge from your sadness. When you see yourself lost, try to think from the other point of view. The fact is, there are certain things we don’t really see. We don't really know the burden people are carrying within. We refuse to forgive the people who have hurt us, because we do not believe they deserve to be forgiven. It's "Mind Magic".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Listen, you are never hurt alone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; The other person also might have the pain, in one way or other. Walk in Lord and trust him for all things. Its not easy, I know, but it is truly a blessing when we do. Try Try !!! The success of love is in the loving - it is not in the result of loving. I believe that the cause of this plague of pain is our very own selfishness. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Every flower tells a story...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a bee, let me name him Bobby, lived in a hive in a tree and every day went out to gather nectar from the flowers around his home. He loved yellow flowers. All summer long he buzzed from one flower to another collecting nectar and taking it back to the hive. The master bee one day said him, "Bobby, I'm proud of you, you bring us more nectar than any of the other bees." "Thanks, Its my pleasure. I love my work." Bobby replied. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And he did. There was nothing Bobby loved more than the scent of beautiful yellow flowers. But one day autumn came. The leaves turned gold and red and brown and began to fall from the trees. The days grew cooler and shorter. And when Bobby went to his favourite field, the yellow flowers were gone. He flew to the other fields where he'd had so much fun, only to find all the yellow flowers gone. He flew around the park, and the people's gardens. There were pink flowers and red ones, orange ones and white ones, but no yellow ones. Bobby settled on the ground sad and exahusted, and started to cry.&lt;br /&gt;After a while a wise old wasp landed next to him.&lt;br /&gt;"What's wrong?" asked the wasp.&lt;br /&gt;Bobby told him about the yellow flowers all being gone.&lt;br /&gt;"Hmmmm", the wasp thought for a while, then he offered some advice.&lt;br /&gt;"There are two things you can do. Firstly, if you really must need yellow flowers, there are some on the other side of the mountain. I went there once when I was a boy. But be warned, it's a long and difficult flight. It'll take two days at least to get to the other side."&lt;br /&gt;Bobby listened carefully. He felt relieved that he could still find yellow flowers, but a little scared because he'd never stayed away from his hive overnight before.&lt;br /&gt;"Or", continued the wasp, "you could try one of the other colour flowers, pink ones or red or orange or white. If you don't like them, there's nothing lost, but perhaps you'll find them nearly as nice as yellow. It's your choice." Bobby thought for a while then said, "perhaps I'll try red."&lt;br /&gt;"Follow me," said the wasp, "I know some very good red flowers not far from here.&lt;br /&gt;Together they flew to the red flowers. Bobby was nervous at first, but soon he found the red flowers just as good as the yellow. In fact they were even better, because they were different. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"There is something beautiful about all scars of whatever nature. A scar means the hurt is over, the wound is closed and healed, done with." -- Harry Crews&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Dont just think 'love' as an emotion. It's a process which never ends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; Love is Father, Mother, Children, Personal etc. When you see darkness, and no light shines through your eyes, remember to leave the place where the smoke blows black. Bask in the light of your spirit and anticipate for the warmth of our bright and faithful sun after the dark dawn. You cry and cry, because you're touched so deep inside, It's a matter of time before normalcy returns, but you will again fall in love sooner or later....with all your mind, all your spirit, and with all your very heart. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"Live the Love"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3010358554833970361-7938159483882239612?l=b4sleep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/feeds/7938159483882239612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3010358554833970361&amp;postID=7938159483882239612' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/7938159483882239612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/7938159483882239612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/2009/06/love-hurts-i-must-have-cried-million.html' title='Innocent Victims of Cupid...'/><author><name>RM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05573149911692734853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srkd2v1aTpI/AAAAAAAAAQo/NSDxszCPcTs/S220/nf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk1eh2nB9I/AAAAAAAAARQ/cFoXbg7tt_s/s72-c/images+(4).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010358554833970361.post-5680906143629010590</id><published>2009-06-16T13:28:00.048+05:30</published><updated>2010-03-14T16:56:58.674+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Happiness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inspirational'/><title type='text'>Castles in the Air...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk1l0er7BI/AAAAAAAAARY/BFea6Tkm74w/s1600-h/images+(5).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 40px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 40px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384393753356921874" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk1l0er7BI/AAAAAAAAARY/BFea6Tkm74w/s200/images+(5).jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/SjdTmPJ-GuI/AAAAAAAAAJw/Z7ZkQU0n0LY/s1600-h/1-surrender-teresa-carter.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 178px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 272px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347834998894238434" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/SjdTmPJ-GuI/AAAAAAAAAJw/Z7ZkQU0n0LY/s320/1-surrender-teresa-carter.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; My friends say, that I am a person who finds solace in dreams. Yes, I am (they are not wrong), but not always. When I want to stay happy, I dont depend on anyone or anything, but my dreams... with the boundaries I built for myself. Sometimes I love to dream, sometimes I hate, when it vigorously push me into the infinte loop of thoughts. Oh, I hate it!! Low thinking is the motto of "happiness".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;What exactly is happiness and what can engender it? People when they think of happiness, they think about them to having good feeling inside. It depends on various factors; family, love, work, drugs, sex etc...our rational capacity, should help us recognize and pursue what will lead to happiness and the good life. Scientific studies says that Genes and circumstances equally contribute to a person's happiness at any moment. Genes do this by setting the production and release of the neurotransmitter dopamine,taking chemicals around the brain, controls the nervous system. These chemicals in the brain make us happy and sad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Whatever....Happiness is like being sad or angry? It's an emotion. This emotion can be metaphorically compared with expressions such as, the sun shining through the rain and the "silver lining behind the dark cloud". These expressions capture the optimistic outlook of happiness, they symbolize hope of a bigger, better and brighter future even in the midst of misery.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;One of my friend said, the way to happiness is "unconditional love," love without expecting anything back, giving the freedom to each other which even you dont cherish for yourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Please suggest:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; "Can anyone love with no condition at all?, Did you ever?," and "Do you give all the freedom to the one you love?". The poet Christopher Marlowe in the poem &lt;em&gt;"The Passionate Shepherd to His Love"&lt;/em&gt; displays his affection for his love by telling her that he will give her anything in the world if she would just be with him, and love him. "If she would be with him and.....", again thats a condition, isn't it? "Unconditional love" is, as the logicians say, a self-contradiction. If the mother love her son/daughter unconditionally, then why do they feel bad when their children send them to old-age homes? Simple! Because they expect that love in return. Husband loves his wife because she takes care of him and his children, am I wrong?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Well, I am not against unconditional love, but it doesn't mean as it termed."Unconditional love" is the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;limited conditions in love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; it is compromises and adjustments, but not the acceptance of each and every shoe pinch. Afterall, we are just human beings !!!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3010358554833970361-5680906143629010590?l=b4sleep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/feeds/5680906143629010590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3010358554833970361&amp;postID=5680906143629010590' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/5680906143629010590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/5680906143629010590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/2009/06/castles-in-air.html' title='Castles in the Air...'/><author><name>RM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05573149911692734853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srkd2v1aTpI/AAAAAAAAAQo/NSDxszCPcTs/S220/nf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk1l0er7BI/AAAAAAAAARY/BFea6Tkm74w/s72-c/images+(5).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010358554833970361.post-3172455921313413364</id><published>2009-06-14T00:02:00.028+05:30</published><updated>2009-11-20T11:25:15.185+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experiences'/><title type='text'>~Adam ate the apple, and our teeth still ache~</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk1sR0q5LI/AAAAAAAAARg/EtG8ElEIO_w/s1600-h/images+(6).jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/SjPyCsJJS7I/AAAAAAAAAJg/aLpgabZ4-PM/s1600-h/quote-pov1.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 254px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 265px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346883310642088882" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/SjPyCsJJS7I/AAAAAAAAAJg/aLpgabZ4-PM/s320/quote-pov1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; I saw her in the chappal,particularly for them by the retreat centre.She gazed out the window,self-consciously adjusting the straps of her shirt.Her smooth hair cascaded naturally on her back.She was looking down the road,gloomy and desperate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;That’s why her mother took her to the retreat centre. The little girl was born with HIV. Her mother (who had AIDS) was probably secretive about her own health status. If she had accepted the medication that she and her daughter needed to live, her neighbors might have come after them both and her parents might have thrown her out. Her daughter wouldn’t have been allowed to go to school or play with the other children in her neighborhood. Her husband, who was working in Gujarat, married someone else, left them for his new life. But, It’s foolish, really; her daughter is just a little girl, she realized and started medication. As anticipated, her neighbors came to know about this and demanded them to leave the village.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Retreat Ministry is based on the spiritual traditions, believes that justification is by faith alone, evolved into a Home of Love in the providence of God. Currently, there are about 3,000 people living permanently here, because they have nowhere else to go. The trust created a separate world for the AIDS patients, houses to stay, food and medication facilities, schools for AIDS children, playground etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Few months back, I attended a convention here in the retreat centre. End of the day, they want all of us to visit their charitable trust. Thats how I met the little girl in the chappal.&lt;br /&gt;"What happened, Why are you looking so sad?"&lt;br /&gt;She looked at my eyes and asked "Who are you?"&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, I came for the convention here, What's your name?"&lt;br /&gt;"Aleena" She said.&lt;br /&gt;"Why Aleena standing alone here while the others are playing in ground?"&lt;br /&gt;"My amma (mom) is not feeling well," She replied.&lt;br /&gt;"What happened to her?"&lt;br /&gt;She struggled with her emotions to reply, "We are AIDS patients, from 2 days my mother is suffering from high fever and cough".&lt;br /&gt;I was taken aback hearing this.&lt;br /&gt;"Dont worry dear, pray to God, everything will be alright," I uttered.&lt;br /&gt;She started telling me her story. Yet what really impressed me was, her faith in God and perseverance, which transcend all the hurdles in her way. She studying in 5th standard, wished to become a Doctor.&lt;br /&gt;"All the best," I said.&lt;br /&gt;"Please pray, I am afraid, I should be alive till then right?" She replied with a pale look at me, which faded my smile away. The moment, I realized her pain's underlying value. Are they not part of this beautiful world???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her problem of pain will have no ultimate solution until God recreates the earth. May be he is waiting, gathering the armies of good. We shall not all sleep, but we will all be changed-in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye. Then God will create for us a new, incredible world. And pain shall be no more. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3010358554833970361-3172455921313413364?l=b4sleep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/feeds/3172455921313413364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3010358554833970361&amp;postID=3172455921313413364' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/3172455921313413364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/3172455921313413364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-saw-her-in-chappal-particularly-for_13.html' title='~Adam ate the apple, and our teeth still ache~'/><author><name>RM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05573149911692734853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srkd2v1aTpI/AAAAAAAAAQo/NSDxszCPcTs/S220/nf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/SjPyCsJJS7I/AAAAAAAAAJg/aLpgabZ4-PM/s72-c/quote-pov1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010358554833970361.post-7981115785639297275</id><published>2009-06-06T23:54:00.020+05:30</published><updated>2010-02-22T16:16:27.182+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wedding'/><title type='text'>Wedding Bells...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk1y-_6-kI/AAAAAAAAARo/spAd9mvw-tE/s1600-h/images+(7).jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 40px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 40px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384393979518974530" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk1y-_6-kI/AAAAAAAAARo/spAd9mvw-tE/s200/images+(7).jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Siq4_1GMYCI/AAAAAAAAAI4/O2ZIJMu-2-k/s1600-h/cake.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 367px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 164px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344287314552840226" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Siq4_1GMYCI/AAAAAAAAAI4/O2ZIJMu-2-k/s320/cake.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; At 5am&lt;/b&gt;, the door to my bedroom opens up, the lights get flicked on and my mom said "It's your wedding day!" Honestly, excitement didn't come over me at this point, I didn't get much sleep the night before, I was anxious, but I woke up feeling energized and totally relaxed. After the shower I ate breakfast with my mom and then started preparing for the big event. I went to the room where I met my bridemaid. I started with the make-up and hair styling. She helped me to put my dress on and gave a beautiful boquet with fresh floral flowers and golden dried ones. She did a wonderful job! When I've done with my dressing I began to get emotional. That's when it seemed real. This was it. "I am getting married". The whole morning just flew seeing all my relatives and friends and, the photo shoot. I feel like a princess in the fairy tale. Waiting for that extraordinary moment of walking down the aisle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;11am-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt; It's time to go church. It was raining on my wedding day. We drove to the church. When I entered the church with my father holding my hand, everything seemed ready. It was breathtakingly beautiful. Hundreds of whisperingly lit candles set off a romantic glow to the usually plain and normal church. I was told by the usher to sit in the bridal chair. "Dear God, Be with me". A moment of prayer. The flower girls were seated beside me. The consort, my love came and seated in the chair next to me facing the altar. I remember those who have tried this and failed before us, I prayed we never fall. All I was, looking the cross in the altar and prayed to the almighty. The church ceremony started, the vows and then the witness or hymns of music. It lasts for an hour and we sent for the photoshoot, then reception. "My marriage is over" I couldn't believe. The church bells rung when we emerge from the church after the ceremony. The sound of the bells are supposed to drive away evil spirits and thereby ensuring the couples good fortune. Symbolically the task is over, the bride and groom now became husband and wife. In the end am in his arms, only a heartbeat away. He smiled at me which vanished my anxiety away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3010358554833970361-7981115785639297275?l=b4sleep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/feeds/7981115785639297275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3010358554833970361&amp;postID=7981115785639297275' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/7981115785639297275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/7981115785639297275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/2009/06/wedding-bells.html' title='Wedding Bells...'/><author><name>RM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05573149911692734853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srkd2v1aTpI/AAAAAAAAAQo/NSDxszCPcTs/S220/nf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk1y-_6-kI/AAAAAAAAARo/spAd9mvw-tE/s72-c/images+(7).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010358554833970361.post-6919379520815561930</id><published>2009-06-03T23:52:00.030+05:30</published><updated>2009-10-02T18:21:45.581+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Smile in Tears...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk15oRiGEI/AAAAAAAAARw/zW_7PTXtYRU/s1600-h/images+(8).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 40px; height: 40px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk15oRiGEI/AAAAAAAAARw/zW_7PTXtYRU/s200/images+(8).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384394093677910082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/SigVkoXB7fI/AAAAAAAAAG4/oIjU2cWHQOA/s1600-h/200323367-001.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343544676928581106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 230px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 287px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/SigVkoXB7fI/AAAAAAAAAG4/oIjU2cWHQOA/s320/200323367-001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;She was waiting for him to come, near the beach, their regular meet place, so excited, but with disturbing thoughts and questions in her mind. His voice was tough and rude when she called him few hours back. She looked into the deep blue sea and lost herself, memories of their last meet. The ivory white sand felt as soft as baby powder, the palm trees gracefully silhouetted against the morning sky, (they used to go there early mornings). They were sitting on the rocks nearby, hand in hand, singing songs...the dancing tides swinged back and forth gently touching their feet. He used to say all the non-sense to make her laugh...managed to get her favourite fruit salad...and so on...&lt;br /&gt;"Hi", She gained control of her thoughts and realized that he was standing near.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, I was just thinking about our last trip. How are you?"&lt;br /&gt;"I am fine", he gave a formal reply and turned his glance towards the sea. There was a silence between them for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;"Why do you want to meet me, anything important?" She was shocked when he asked this question. "Nothing, just to see you".&lt;br /&gt;"Ok, now this is the last time. No more meetings between us", He stopped.&lt;br /&gt;"What happened to you?"&lt;br /&gt;"I dont want to say anything more. I appreciate if you dont call me again and live your life. Goodbye". He didnt wait for her reply. The once enchanting sea that beckoned her presence was now turning its face to her and showing its fury. She gazed at him, walking away from her life forever and ever... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Today I received an SMS from one of my friend. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"Do u know who is the best couple in this universe? Smile :-) &amp;amp; Tears :-( Rarely they meet, but wen they meet, that wud be the most beautiful moment in life".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;When I saw this message I remember her story after a long time. We will never forget our schooldays and collegedays; our teachers, good grades and achievements, first picnic we had with our friends and, of course, our first loves. First Love! The moment my mouth says these words I could easily get nostalgic. Well, about my friend. At the first meeting of our class for BCA, I was lucky enough to be sitting across an incredibly attractive girl. She had long hair, big blue eyes, a beautiful smile, and a figure that made heads turn. We stayed together in college hostel. She became very dear to me. To start the story, let me use Nisha as her name who has loved Arun. 3 years of their love has been passed away like a pleasant evening. I was amazed at their relationship. They communicated thru phone &amp;amp; letters, cute and interesting; included poems, songs, humors, silly fights etc. As time progresses, styles of their love developed new forms. It was a fantasy love. Days were going faster and the 1st yr vacation reached. I felt sad to leave her, though she was very thrilled to meet him this vacation time. It increased her enthusiasm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days flew away. When we were back after the holidays, she looked very gloomy and sad, no phone calls, not even talking to anyone. "What happened to you?" When I asked, she cried aloud. I stood still without knowing anything. The truth was, her boyfriend found a new girlfriend and asked Nisha to stop calling him or mailing him. That was too much for her, I know, she was so so desperate. It took me a long time to console her and convince, to get back her normal life. After a couple of months, she started to hate him so much that she kept telling herself that he was nothing but an average guy who thought that he’s so good. She decided to set a new mind of herself by conquering the thoughts that had taken possession. Some of the elements in the love have changed over time. When she had realized how foolish she was and had decide to live a new life, she received a call from Arun and apologized for what had happened. At the end of the conversation he asked "Are you still ready to continue our relation?" Now the ball is in her court! She disconnected the call without saying anything. She was so happy, I could make it from her face. Sametime tears rolled out from her eyes. I looked at her for an instant, speechless. A drop of tear rolled out from my eyes too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3010358554833970361-6919379520815561930?l=b4sleep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/feeds/6919379520815561930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3010358554833970361&amp;postID=6919379520815561930' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/6919379520815561930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/6919379520815561930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/2009/06/smile-in-tears.html' title='Smile in Tears...'/><author><name>RM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05573149911692734853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srkd2v1aTpI/AAAAAAAAAQo/NSDxszCPcTs/S220/nf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk15oRiGEI/AAAAAAAAARw/zW_7PTXtYRU/s72-c/images+(8).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010358554833970361.post-9100612745874008058</id><published>2009-06-03T15:20:00.020+05:30</published><updated>2009-09-23T02:09:41.476+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inspirational'/><title type='text'>Never give up...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk2AzIgbqI/AAAAAAAAAR4/BfUVM8Fo3O8/s1600-h/images+(10).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 40px; height: 40px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk2AzIgbqI/AAAAAAAAAR4/BfUVM8Fo3O8/s200/images+(10).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384394216851926690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/SiZL6rpzWYI/AAAAAAAAADc/_Vlrtmdy4m8/s1600-h/giv.bmp"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343041479444224386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 288px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 222px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/SiZL6rpzWYI/AAAAAAAAADc/_Vlrtmdy4m8/s320/giv.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Samuel Beckett&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;People have always known that persistence and perseverance are a key ingredients in success. Hence the old saying "If at first you don't succeed, try, try again". Every successful person could say that, for achievement of a good result you must work hard and don’t give up in any case.&lt;br /&gt;Lemme give a fine example : &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Albert Einstein&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; did not speak until he was 4-years-old and did not read until he was 7. His parents thought he was "sub-normal," and one of his teachers described him as "mentally slow, unsociable, and adrift forever in foolish dreams." He was expelled from school and was refused admittance to the Zurich Polytechnic School. He did eventually learn to speak and read. Even to do a little math.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I would like to add some tips to improve our personality as well the confidence.&lt;br /&gt;In fact these are not my words, I noted down it from some books.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;--&gt; Improve your opinion of yourself and faith in your abilities&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;--&gt; There's nothing more attractive than someone who is comfortable being themselves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;--&gt; Boost your optimism and ability to expect the best from the future&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;--&gt;Teach your unconscious mind how to stop blushing and relax in the face of potential embarassment&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;--&gt; Say what you mean, calmly and clearly, right when you need to&lt;br /&gt;--&gt; If saying 'no' is difficult for you, hypnosis can help you refuse comfortably and assertively&lt;br /&gt;--&gt; Being attractive to others has so much to do with whether you feel attractive&lt;br /&gt;--&gt; Learn true forgiveness and let go of negative emotion about the past&lt;br /&gt;--&gt; Get rid of your victim mentality and start taking control&lt;br /&gt;--&gt; Put yourself first for a change&lt;br /&gt;--&gt; Stop thinking the worst - not everything is a catastrophe!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3010358554833970361-9100612745874008058?l=b4sleep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/feeds/9100612745874008058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3010358554833970361&amp;postID=9100612745874008058' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/9100612745874008058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/9100612745874008058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/2009/06/never-give-up.html' title='Never give up...'/><author><name>RM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05573149911692734853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srkd2v1aTpI/AAAAAAAAAQo/NSDxszCPcTs/S220/nf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk2AzIgbqI/AAAAAAAAAR4/BfUVM8Fo3O8/s72-c/images+(10).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010358554833970361.post-2731184917523954979</id><published>2009-06-02T22:46:00.013+05:30</published><updated>2009-09-23T02:10:08.376+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Songs'/><title type='text'>**My favourites**</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk2IAjD9XI/AAAAAAAAASA/CGdHAwBjOaE/s1600-h/images+(11).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 40px; height: 40px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk2IAjD9XI/AAAAAAAAASA/CGdHAwBjOaE/s200/images+(11).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384394340712052082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Now I am in a leisure mood. I turned my thoughts towards my next job. I prefer to hear some songs. I checked the list of songs in my system and added these in my Media player.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;English&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate this party - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_sU41-5i3EQ"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_sU41-5i3EQ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smile an everlasting - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n6w-hV4uUwQ"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n6w-hV4uUwQ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Akon Beautiful - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TrKNYtyT1LA"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TrKNYtyT1LA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MLTR Blue night - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xqvObyU2ITs"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xqvObyU2ITs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MLTR You took my heart - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-cwZa4xoLbM"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-cwZa4xoLbM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MLTR Complicated heart - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pjTRhqNtJ_U"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pjTRhqNtJ_U&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MLTR Paint my love - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nS6oY6uG5TU&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nS6oY6uG5TU&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day you went - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nXnbl0BUj0c"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nXnbl0BUj0c&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unbreak my heart - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YyBEVP7NFY4"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YyBEVP7NFY4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you say nothing - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AuJrEBtmM1Q"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AuJrEBtmM1Q&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Hindi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tum chalo tho Hindustan - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XQYY2AJ1oVM"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XQYY2AJ1oVM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tumse Hi - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9sUh4RBD-5E"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9sUh4RBD-5E&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nahin samne - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MOLztuvNy-E"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MOLztuvNy-E&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O saathi re - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E9GmzGsybk0"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E9GmzGsybk0&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vaada raha - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hx2IuAKwosI"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hx2IuAKwosI&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baadal vo aaye - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LZYUSUrskVQ"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LZYUSUrskVQ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ab tere bin - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sjfTLhz7Lk4&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sjfTLhz7Lk4&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c7A81PPSkYs"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kuch naa kaho - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YrzcQ1pQVDQ"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YrzcQ1pQVDQ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chupana bhi nahi - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0mpynY_ocI"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0mpynY_ocI&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu Pyar Hai Kissi - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2KzFdY-HnGU&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2KzFdY-HnGU&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mere rang main - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kxd6po6wL4w&amp;amp;feature=fvst"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kxd6po6wL4w&amp;amp;feature=fvst&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3010358554833970361-2731184917523954979?l=b4sleep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/feeds/2731184917523954979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3010358554833970361&amp;postID=2731184917523954979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/2731184917523954979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/2731184917523954979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-favourites.html' title='**My favourites**'/><author><name>RM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05573149911692734853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srkd2v1aTpI/AAAAAAAAAQo/NSDxszCPcTs/S220/nf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk2IAjD9XI/AAAAAAAAASA/CGdHAwBjOaE/s72-c/images+(11).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010358554833970361.post-6337036042893149840</id><published>2009-06-02T22:27:00.019+05:30</published><updated>2010-03-14T17:26:50.985+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My stories'/><title type='text'>The Shy Bird...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk2Q8MSSNI/AAAAAAAAASI/fNEYzqucUy4/s1600-h/images+(12).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 40px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 40px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384394494161602770" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk2Q8MSSNI/AAAAAAAAASI/fNEYzqucUy4/s200/images+(12).jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/SiVaJZAedEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/QDpkbNrrKR4/s1600-h/shy2.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 231px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 283px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342775650323166274" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/SiVaJZAedEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/QDpkbNrrKR4/s320/shy2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/quotation/it_is_a_good_idea_to_be_alone_in_a_garden_at_dawn/210120.html"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;It is a good idea to be alone in a garden at dawn or dark so that all its &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;shy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; presence may haunt you and possess you in a reverie of suspended thought.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does it mean by the word "shy"? When I say this I remember 'him' who was my batchmate as well busmate. Years ago, again my school time, that annual year I was going school by school bus. You know how rush is the school bus usually huh ! Students in the first pick will get the seats. And I was not in that lucky list. But somehow 'he' managed to reserve one seat for me just behind his, everyday. When I sit, he turn back and give a glance to me with a smiling face. This process continued the whole one year. Smile was the only communication between us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the time of the annual exams, I still remember, we had exams in the afternoon. Only few students were there in the bus. Last day of the annual year, I was sitting in the last row of the bus while we coming back after the last exam. Unexpectedly he came to me and asked "Hello, why are you sitting here?" "Nothing, Just....", Am I lacking words to say ? I surprised. I'm simply not used to it and maybe I was afraid. "This is for you, today is my birthday", I saw a chocolate in his hand. I smiled and said, "Thanks, Happy Birthday". When he handed me the chocolate, the tip of his finger touched mine. I felt like an electric shock passing through my body. He went back to his seat with the same smiling face.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to get down from the bus, I wanted to run away from his sight. An unknowing emotion combined with fear came to my mind. Is that called "shy"? I have not seen him yet after that. But still remember him though I cannot recollect his face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3010358554833970361-6337036042893149840?l=b4sleep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/feeds/6337036042893149840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3010358554833970361&amp;postID=6337036042893149840' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/6337036042893149840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/6337036042893149840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/2009/06/shy-bird_02.html' title='The Shy Bird...'/><author><name>RM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05573149911692734853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srkd2v1aTpI/AAAAAAAAAQo/NSDxszCPcTs/S220/nf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk2Q8MSSNI/AAAAAAAAASI/fNEYzqucUy4/s72-c/images+(12).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010358554833970361.post-5448285594286084947</id><published>2009-06-02T10:41:00.029+05:30</published><updated>2010-02-22T16:15:54.325+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experiences'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My stories'/><title type='text'>Face to Face with God...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk2XcrhIHI/AAAAAAAAASQ/HmZ-4oh1PCo/s1600-h/images+(9).jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 40px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 40px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384394605961748594" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk2XcrhIHI/AAAAAAAAASQ/HmZ-4oh1PCo/s200/images+(9).jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/SiUGtrC17qI/AAAAAAAAACc/K4pS7FlOC8g/s1600-h/prayer-form-image.png"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 192px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342683914663489186" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/SiUGtrC17qI/AAAAAAAAACc/K4pS7FlOC8g/s320/prayer-form-image.png" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat and snicker,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;And in short, I was afraid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.S Eliot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;During my school days, I remember, I was always with my friend "Sherin", we were together in the class room, church, playground, break time etc. The truth was that she loved me very dearly and we had been the the best friends ever. She had strong principles, somehow took it for granted that anything she did was exactly the right thing for you. No argument needed. We used to go the church near to our school, every morning. It was a promise to each other, if one reach the school early, she has to wait for the other to come and it was a daily routine for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That day I reached early. When I was waiting for Sherin, another girl approached me and asked, "Hi, I want to buy something from the nearby shop, Can you please come with me?". I agreed and went. While coming back she asked me to go church with her and so I went. When we were back, I saw Sherin waiting for me impatiently, as its already time for the first bell to enter classroom.&lt;br /&gt;"Where were you?" She asked. I told her everything. My hesitant mention of church drew a totally negative response in her.&lt;br /&gt;"Do you really think that is appropriate?"&lt;br /&gt;There was a kind of fire in her eyes. I tried to take her hand to exlpain and failed miserably. She pulled away and went. I stood there quietly for a while, then went to the classroom. I wanted to cry, I felt so helpless. During break time, she didnt sit with me, instead with other girls. I felt as if I had lost my best friend and didnt feel to have food. I walked out from the class with my tiffin box and went to the wash room near the ground. I threw my whole food in to the big dustbin kept outside the washroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I reached school the very next day, I found that she went to church with some other girl and didnt wait for me. At lunch break I was all alone. I felt annoyed and repeated the same process, threw my food in the dustbin as a revenge to her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Next day, the same situations arrived on schedule, when i went to the dustbin to throw my food, a poor man (I dont want to call him a 'beggar' or a 'mad man' though he seems like one) came near the wastebin with a paper in his hand. In fact I was seeing him for the first time. He took the waste food from the dirty bin and started eating. I said "Hey, I dont think thats any good at all. Take this, its good". I gave him my food. He wrapped it with the paper, smiled at me and walked away. "Who is he?" I thought for a moment. The past two days I have wasted my food for a stupid reason and now here is a man who is looking for food to survive. "Is that God who came to me as the poor man to open my eyes?" Sometimes I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/quotation/god_allows_us_to_experience_the_low_points_of/219553.html"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;God allows us to experience the low points of life in order to teach us lessons we could not learn in any other way. The way we learn those lessons is not to deny the feelings but to find the meanings underlying them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3010358554833970361-5448285594286084947?l=b4sleep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/feeds/5448285594286084947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3010358554833970361&amp;postID=5448285594286084947' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/5448285594286084947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/5448285594286084947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/2009/06/face-to-face-with-god.html' title='Face to Face with God...'/><author><name>RM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05573149911692734853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srkd2v1aTpI/AAAAAAAAAQo/NSDxszCPcTs/S220/nf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk2XcrhIHI/AAAAAAAAASQ/HmZ-4oh1PCo/s72-c/images+(9).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010358554833970361.post-4239597957973169854</id><published>2009-06-02T00:23:00.020+05:30</published><updated>2009-09-23T02:11:37.161+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Birth Life Death...'/><title type='text'>Birth Life and Death...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk2eRB9IHI/AAAAAAAAASY/0Z3immeFrSI/s1600-h/images+(13).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 40px; height: 40px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk2eRB9IHI/AAAAAAAAASY/0Z3immeFrSI/s200/images+(13).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384394723093717106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Sjng6UWuJ9I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/ABJznR3R3us/s1600-h/1656521231_85589ba3f1_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348553324980217810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 222px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Sjng6UWuJ9I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/ABJznR3R3us/s320/1656521231_85589ba3f1_m.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;In writing this, I juxtapose the experiences of the three words; birth, life and death. Because all humanbeings are the victims of these, in the journey of their life,somehow or somewhere. Here, by the words birth, life and death I meant the experiences of our life. We all must be having the experience of a new rise, a new life or the death of way to live. Just think a moment, in which experience you concentrate; a new rise, new life or the bad things happened to you? Well, here I would say the quotes of MARK TWAIN,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic; "&gt;"There was never yet an uninteresting life. Such a thing is an impossibility. Inside of the dullest exterior there is a drama, a comedy and a tragedy."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Listen, I tell you, death is a mystery. So forget about it and live for the day. The bottom line is: "It's your choice how you live your life." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3010358554833970361-4239597957973169854?l=b4sleep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/feeds/4239597957973169854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3010358554833970361&amp;postID=4239597957973169854' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/4239597957973169854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010358554833970361/posts/default/4239597957973169854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b4sleep.blogspot.com/2009/06/in-writing-this-i-juxtapose-experiences.html' title='Birth Life and Death...'/><author><name>RM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05573149911692734853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srkd2v1aTpI/AAAAAAAAAQo/NSDxszCPcTs/S220/nf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mR0JEpaVWn8/Srk2eRB9IHI/AAAAAAAAASY/0Z3immeFrSI/s72-c/images+(13).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
