tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65462838664199122602024-02-07T09:52:51.040+05:30You see things; and you say "Why?" But I dream things that never were; and I say "Why not?My world: Mere mortals not allowed.
My rules: There are none...........
My views: Be nice,Other wise get out........................................
My thoughts:“Being happy doesn't mean that everything is perfect. It means that you've decided to look beyond the imperfections.”"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-21361792126474290842009-02-01T22:45:00.000+05:302009-02-01T22:46:47.482+05:30Help. Mr.Tandon<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; "><div>Hey All,</div><div> </div><div>Kindly visit the link below and please contribute to the noble cause as far as possible, if not in monetary terms( even a small donations of about Rs.200 - Rs.500 will go a long way) then help publicizing this cause. I know the authneticity of this cause as Mrs. Tandon taught in Thakur College of Engineering ( I am a former student of the college) and the person who has sent across this information is a friend of mine.</div><div> </div><div>So, here is the link: <a href="http://www.helpgaurav.com/" target="_blank" style="color: rgb(17, 65, 112); ">http://www.helpgaurav.<wbr>com/</a></div><div> </div><div>Thank you for reading the mail and would request all to contribute their bit for the noble cause.</div><div> </div><div>Thank you</div></span>"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-42025199270129704382008-12-16T20:51:00.005+05:302008-12-16T21:12:48.842+05:30Love isn't a decision. It's a feeling<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Warning!!!!!</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">All the people mentioned about are purely real. Any resemblance with fictional people are purely coincidental.Trying my luck in writing a fictional story which is based on non-fictional events...</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">____________________________________________________</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal">The time stood still as she entered the room. I thought I was dead, because I had just seen an angel. That was two years ago. The boundary wall still needed some work. The gaps needed to be filled. Sweat was dropping from my forehead. Only a little work remained. The house needed to be secure from trespassers. Only three people had keys to this house, my twin the devil, babes and kiddo. People I could trust to take care of this place. My bags were packed. I was leaving the city and going to my friend’s place where no one would be there to disturb me. I would be cut off from the rest of the world and would usher in the New Year with peace. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> I will always have fond memories of this place. I had returned here two years back. But somewhere I messed up. Somewhere I took a wrong turn and got lost. Words dried up. It felt like everything that was supposed to be said had already been said between us. It was as if we were trying to express ourselves through silence but held back our emotions. </p><p class="MsoNormal">That was a week back. My eyes were red, as I kept the phone down. Things had come to such a passé that saying few words were difficult. But that was now in the past. My bags were ready and I had to move on, I had a train to catch. <br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">As I looked back at the house I smiled. The walls were high enough to stop anyone from entering. Except for three people no one had a key. I don’t know when I will return. It will be difficult to allow anyone to this place again. I had a long look at the place, picked up bags and started to walk away. I never looked back again. I doubted myself if I could hold back my tears if I looked back. The place that left behind is my "HEART".<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">________________________________________________________</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Looking to shift to my own website come next year. Most of the work is finished. Only name has to be decided. You guys can help me out by suggesting a kool name or putting in your vote... please do help me out with this...</p><p></p>"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-89053092735105174232008-12-10T00:04:00.003+05:302008-12-10T00:19:40.476+05:30I know the way,but have lost the path...As another day ends,as sun sets and rises in the west I ask myself am I more enlighten today than I was yesterday. I feel like a traveller who is lost in the forest. He knows he has to get out, to stay alive ,to continue his journey, but he has no idea how to get out. For some one who has so many flaws and few friends i have always been told that my biggest strength is my "Enthusiasm" towards life, the zest to try and do everything there is out there to do. Some how i feel drained out. Need a refill. Hate living my life on Auto pilot. Hoping for a turn of events. Atleast i will be in thick of things. <div><br /></div><div>My earlier post when i was lost...</div><div><a href="http://sshithappens.blogspot.com/2007/03/just-when-i-got-all-answers-of-life.html">http://sshithappens.blogspot.com/2007/03/just-when-i-got-all-answers-of-life.html</a><br /></div>"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-31678937737173098102008-11-29T18:26:00.014+05:302008-11-29T19:36:53.197+05:30We won the battle, but we lost brave men.<p class="MsoNormal">I woke up this morning got of my bed and switch on the television. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Taj</span> was still under siege. And then things changed. Rapid exchange of fire and counter fire started along with explosions. And it continued for <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">at least</span> an hour. Then <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Taj</span> was on fire and it was completely covered in smoke. </p><p class="MsoNormal">The fire tenders and the brave fire <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">personnels</span> rushed to the spot. The operation was finally over. The <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">ordeal</span> had come to an end. The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Taj</span> was free and then I saw a 16<sup><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">th</span></sup> year old boy lighting up his father’s pyre. What must be going through his mind? His father died for what? </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Hemant</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Karkare</span> the chief of ATS was a bright and upright officer. Till his death he fought terrorism. The double<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>face monster known as politicians were up again. The same <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">BJP</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">VHP</span> who till Wednesday were accusing the ATS of giving the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">hindu</span>’s a bad name following his investigation in the recent blast had constructed hoarding saluting the brave soul. Shame you guys. You never allowed him to work, question his integrity , threatened him and his family, called for a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">bandh</span> on 1<sup>st</sup> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">dec</span> to stop him from working and today you hail him as a hero ready to grab the media bytes by offering his family money. I detest people like you. We are better with out you guys. And all of us should ask ourselves what did they die for?</p><p class="MsoNormal">Given below are profile of some of the men we lost trying to defend us. Yes, Us. So that we can live another day.I am not gonna use the word late in front of their names cause heroes never die.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Hemant</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Karkare</span>:</span></o:p></p><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqUqrS9sXmgZu-fgnD16_-T5zpioC2tGocON2JX613APkPSp3BfiECldty0PDSJ9wK0EPUn28ZVUQy40u0tKEwQsZQjlJDsqzSrzcz-Xib6C_xR_Pk-lYwNuUf_QyFy3dVM6Wdk_wTKMny/s320/hemant.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 214px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274065379825697042" /><p class="txt" style="margin-top:11.25pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:7.5pt; margin-left:0cm;line-height:15.0pt"><span style="color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The 54-year-old police officer had a career spanning 26 years. Originally from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Madhya</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Pradesh</span>, he studied mechanical engineering in Nagpur.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="txt" style="margin-top:11.25pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:7.5pt; margin-left:0cm;line-height:15.0pt"><span style="color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">After stints at the National Productivity Council and Hindustan Lever, he made it to the Indian Police Service in 1982.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="txt" style="margin-top:11.25pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:7.5pt; margin-left:0cm;line-height:15.0pt"><span style="color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Karkare</span> served as Superintendent of Police in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Chandrapur</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Maharasthra</span> primarily fighting <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Naxalites</span> from 1991 to 1993.</span></span></p> <p class="txt" style="margin-top:11.25pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:7.5pt; margin-left:0cm;line-height:15.0pt"><span style="color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">He was also an Assistant Commissioner of Police in Nagpur.Known as an upright officer, he served in the Research and Analysis Wing (RAW) for seven years.</span></span></p> <p class="txt" style="margin-top:11.25pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:7.5pt; margin-left:0cm;line-height:15.0pt"><span style="color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">He returned to his state cadre to head the ATS in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Jaunary</span> 2008 and is credited with solving the serial bomb blasts in Thane, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Vashi</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Panvel</span>.</span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="txt" style="margin-top:11.25pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:7.5pt; margin-left:0cm;line-height:15.0pt"><span style="color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Ashok</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Kamte</span>:</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS-QYMPPBcXcJZlmz8Xir382pBiuF9uVLgw55_Mt0i0Hr-78_AmcTElNlTLWd8ANBjgjb1KnKcn1kmP6fYuthqqMGrOk6dNAqgBNwQyfbJlKD_CfstnnKHU2kyJzKxGOXp6uruL8_qP9IA/s320/28newskamte.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 170px; height: 221px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274064062645116130" /> <p class="txt" style="margin-top:11.25pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:7.5pt; margin-left:0cm;line-height:15.0pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Ever heard of a police commissioner having a fan club.(<a href="http://www.orkut.co.in/Main#Community.aspx?cmm=26034289">Click here to visit his fan club</a>) Yes,<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> it’s true. </span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Arial;color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">He was a daredevil officer who had gained a popularity matching a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Bollywood</span> hero in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">solapur</span>. A body builder, power lifter he also had <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Arial;color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> two national records to his name. He came from a family of officers. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="txt" style="margin-top:11.25pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:7.5pt; margin-left:0cm;line-height:15.0pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Arial;color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Arial;color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">A highly decorated officer, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Solapur</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">Sangli</span>, where <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">Kamte</span> served as the commissioner of police and the superintendent of police, his status was no less than that of a hero. He was also deputed to Bosnia. He came into lime light when he dragged</span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">Karnataka</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">MLA</span>(<a href="http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/articleshow/2286381.cms">Click here to read the complete story)</a> for violating the supreme court rule of not bursting the crackers between 10pm to 6 am. The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">MLA</span> had to be admitted to the ICU.</span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Defending his actions he said the</span></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style=" ;font-family:Arial;color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Arial;color:black;"><a href="http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/articleshow/2286381.cms##" target="undefined"><span class="klink"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">law</span></span></a></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style=" ;font-family:Arial;color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Arial;color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">was equal for all. "Nobody has the right to violate the law”. The last words his wife said to him before he was taken away for cremation was she will always love him.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="txt" style="margin-top:11.25pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:7.5pt; margin-left:0cm;line-height:15.0pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;">Click here. <a href="http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/Bangalore/Kamte_Karkare_were_fine_officers_recall_batchmates/articleshow/3766676.cms">Story 1</a>. <a href="http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/Cities/Pune/Sangli_Solapur_rue_death_of_a_daredevil_officer/rssarticleshow/3766880.cms">Story 2</a>. <a href="http://www.indianexpress.com/news/a-rare-police-officer-who-had-a-fan-following/391549/">Story 3</a>.</span></p><p class="txt" style="margin-top:11.25pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:7.5pt; margin-left:0cm;line-height:15.0pt"><span class="apple-style-span"><b><span style="color:black;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">Vijay</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">Salaskar</span>:</span></o:p></span></b></span></p><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7AsfLEaHKDC0IPXXOwKilXoGho0bsPU0mZObgCY6aOQTJSRJSeWfbBhRd7atVxVt97Ga96HVFhQc2Mk-yg63lP6m65YjJlFBiQ3_23s5b1SCyp51BkqA8ag6NV3AZr3GF7hyphenhyphenBAQvk14Vs/s320/Ab_Tak03.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 100px; height: 128px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274064844326594562" /> <p style="margin-top:4.8pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:6.0pt;margin-left: 0cm;line-height:18.0pt"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span style="color:black;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Salaskar</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, an M Com from </span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 24px;">Mumbai University</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 24px; "><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, had joined the force as a sub inspector. He had been believed to kill around 75 dreaded criminals in police encounters. After being out of the spotlight for quite sometime, the encounter specialist was given the plum posting of heading the anti-extortion wing of the crime branch.</span></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p style="margin-top:4.8pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:6.0pt;margin-left: 0cm;line-height:18.0pt"><span style=" ;color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">He was also known for his professional animosity against</span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 24px;">Arun Gawli</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 24px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, a notorious gangster turned politician from </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Mumbai</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">.</span></span></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top:4.8pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:6.0pt;margin-left: 0cm;line-height:18.0pt"><span style=" ;color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It is worth quoting his beliefs he talked about in his interview with </span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 24px;">Pritish Nandy</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 24px; "><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">.</span></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p style="margin-top:4.8pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:6.0pt;margin-left: 0cm;line-height:18.0pt"><span style=" ;color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">How does it feel to kill a man, looking him in the eye?", to which he had said, "In a shootout, no one has time for such niceties. Either you kill or you get killed. I am plain lucky to still be alive. In this job, you know, we take one day at a time. Who can predict what tomorrow will bring?"</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p style="margin-top:4.8pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:6.0pt;margin-left: 0cm;line-height:18.0pt"><span style=" ;color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">These were his words in March, 1999. On November 26, 2008, </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Salaskar</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> died during the </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Mumbai</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> terrorist attacks. </span><a href="http://www.rediff.com/news/1999/mar/05nandy.htm"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Click here for full interview.</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 4.8pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 6pt; margin-left: 0cm; line-height: 18pt; "><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Major </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Sandeep</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Unnikrishnan</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">:</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p align="center" style="margin-top:4.8pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:0cm;text-align:center;line-height:18.0pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-style: italic;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRKPdNkK0J_nJR-znXNRDS3elk8ClolJ_iC_9Jn0RQauntxC4DoIAXbk663ZnzvUcaDNFjH2AuaSEkER5OdRPpBQYloHUN0uVKYgpYoX7TIPwca32-FC8uoQu90S1OcvIvW9LL0RCWIDHR/s320/sandeepunnikrishnan248.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 248px; height: 178px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274065025004764626" /></span></p><p align="center" style="margin-top:4.8pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:0cm;text-align:center;line-height:18.0pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; ">The Safety, Honour and Welfare of your Country come first, always and every time.</span><br /></p><p align="center" style="margin-top:4.8pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:0cm;text-align:center;line-height:18.0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The Honour, Welfare and Comfort of the Men you command come next.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></span></b></p><p align="center" style="margin-top:4.8pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:0cm;text-align:center;line-height:18.0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Your Own ease, Comfort and Safety come last, always and every time"</span></span></span></span></b><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></span></p> <p class="txt" style="margin-top:11.25pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:7.5pt; margin-left:0cm;line-height:15.0pt"><span style="color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Major </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Sandeep</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Unnikrishnan</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> lived and died by this motto of the </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">IMA</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">.</span></span><span style=" ;color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> He led a commando team to clear </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Taj</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> Hotel on November 27. The operation was code named Operation Cyclone.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="txt" style="margin-top:11.25pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:7.5pt; margin-left:0cm;line-height:15.0pt"><span style="color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">When one of the commando of his team was injured, Major </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Unnikrishnan</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> went in to evacuate him and spotted one of the terrorists.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="txt" style="margin-top:11.25pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:7.5pt; margin-left:0cm;line-height:15.0pt"><span style="color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Major </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_53"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Unnikrishnan</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> engaged the terrorist in a </span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_54"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">gun battle</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> and had overpowered him but another terrorist who was hiding in the room fired at him seriously injuring the brave officer. Major </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_55"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Unnikrishnan</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> succumbed to his injuries soon.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="txt" style="margin-top:11.25pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:7.5pt; margin-left:0cm;line-height:15.0pt"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The 31-year-old Major, born on March 15, 1977 and the only son of retired </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_56"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">ISRO</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> officer K </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_57"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Unnikrishnan</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, joined the National Defence Academy and was commissioned in the 7</span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_58"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">th</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> Battalion of the </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_59"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Bihar</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> Regiment in 1999. </span></span></span></p><p class="txt" style="margin-top:11.25pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:7.5pt; margin-left:0cm;line-height:15.0pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">If you visit his </span><a href="http://www.orkut.co.in/Main#Profile.aspx?uid=5185304287748406909"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">orkut profile</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">.(Respect the space) you wont </span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_60"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">believe</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> the guy you are seeing is a leader of a crack commando in the country. From the videos you see in his profile I could infer that his favourite band must Pakistani band Strings. In his job description he writes it is non productive. Ironic isn't it.</span></p><p class="txt" style="margin-top:11.25pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:7.5pt; margin-left:0cm;line-height:15.0pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">If these events do not inspire us for a change nothing else will. We need to understand that Terrorism has no religion, no caste and certainly no GOD. We need to be united. If we cannot be the change we want to see in this world, no one else is gonna come and change it for us.</span></p><p class="txt" style="text-align: center;margin-top: 11.25pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; line-height: 15pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></p><p class="txt" style="margin-top:11.25pt;margin-right:0cm;margin-bottom:7.5pt; margin-left:0cm;line-height:15.0pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Missing from the action was a certain gentleman and his rag tag army who has vowed to keep all the outsiders from Mumbai. Wondering why did not they came out. Is it that they come out of their homes only when they think "Marathi Manoos" jobs are on the line and not their lives. Strange. Think about it. The two face monster called the politicans.</span></p><p class="txt" style="text-align: center;margin-top: 11.25pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; line-height: 15pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Battle has been won. War still rages on</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">.</span></p><p class="txt" style="text-align: left;margin-top: 11.25pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; line-height: 15pt; ">(Sources: The Times of India, The Indian Express , IBNLive, Rediff.com)</p>"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-58811585195330624242008-11-26T02:57:00.001+05:302008-11-26T03:21:12.080+05:30Dr. Can you glue my heart back, It's brokenI am great believer in that all the things that happen in your life they happen for a reason.<div>Ever heard of Six degree of Separation theory. Well it states that everyone on this planet is connected to everyone by six people they know. true or false critics are still out there. Internet has truly made are world a touch smaller than it use to be earlier. </div><div><br /></div><div>Someone just out of random ended up on my blog. Left a comment. I replied back. Ended up chatting courtesy the new chat feature in my blog which allows people to chat with me if i am online.So when you meet a complete stranger on the net. you talk and you exchange email id with that person, ends up adding him/her to your social network. Then you discover you have some common friend. Small world.Touche. And so it happened with me recently.</div><div><br /></div><div>But I never thought we will meet again. I mean you dont have times for friends let alone strangers.I was up watching India thrash England,catching the score Online. Ya no TV. Somebody pops up and guess who. So more conversation. More people we know in common.</div><div><br /></div><div>The talks last a bit longer. The other person opens up and ends up sharing some doubts about life with me. What made someone to share it with a stranger(Me. In this case)I dont know. May be it is easier to talk to someone who is not gonna judge you and will have an unbiased opinion. </div><div><br /></div><div>So for all those people who have been in love or are in love and have realised that love is not a two way street for them, I would say bad luck but you can always use a DETOUR.</div><div><br /></div><div>If i would have been on radio i would have played a nice song for that friend of mine who is no longer a stranger. But since i am not i will let you guys read this </div><div>EXCERPTS FROM SHANTARAM<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px; line-height: 17px;">.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px; line-height: 17px;">I couldn't explain that love to her, or anyone else, including me. I never believed in love until it happened to me. Then, when it did happen, it was as if every atom in my body had been changed, somehow. I was different, forever, just for the sight of her. And the love that opened in my heart seemed to drag the rest of my life behind it, from that moment onward. I heard her voice in every lovely sound the wind wrapped around me. Sometimes, when I thought of her, the hunger to touch her, and to kiss her and to breathe a scented minute of her black hair crushed the air in my lungs.<br /><br />But she wasn't in love with me, she'd said, and she didn't want me to love her. Nothing grieves more deeply or pathetically than one half of a great love that isn't meant to be.<br /><br />Most love's are like that. Your heart starts to feel like an overcrowded lifeboat. You throw your pride out to keep it afloat, and your self-respect and your independence. After a while you start throwing people out - your friends, everyone you used to know. And it's still not enough. The lifeboat is still sinking, and you know it's going to take you down with it.<br /><br />At first, when we truly love someone, our greatest fear is that the loved one will stop loving us. What we should fear and dread,of course, is that we won't stop loving them, even after they are gone. For I still love you with the whole of my heart, I still love you. And sometimes, the love that I have, and can't give you, crushes the breath of my chest.<br /></span></div><div><br /></div>"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-39153364253898789172008-10-20T01:05:00.003+05:302008-10-20T01:30:16.358+05:30Saying Sorry is not ENUF...I haven't slept well for the past three days. I am very upset with myself and my behavior. I promised my self that i won’t be rude to any one . The fact that I allowed the situation to get to me and instead of giving the person benefit of doubt, I reacted. May be I was right, but I could have chosen my words and method better.<br /><br />Though later I apologized, I realized sometimes saying "SORRY" is not enough. Saying "SORRY" is not going to erase my actions. The person is a friend. The fact that I behaved in such manner is appalling.<br /><br />Consequence of my actions. Simple .For the next two weeks, I am grounded. No internet, no mobile calls for chit chat and no Manchester United. Am I over reacting? No, I don't think so.<br /><br />I don't want to be remembered as rude person. I don’t want to make a habit of losing self control and getting away from it by saying "SORRY". That is not the kind of person I want to become.<br />Cause sometimes saying "SORRY" is not enuf..."CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-60929454627073307032008-10-16T22:31:00.002+05:302008-10-16T22:58:36.866+05:30Let there be Light!!!Diwali for me has always been a special festival. I just love everything about it. Normally every year i sit down with my phone book and start calling up people. But this year i have decided to send greeting cards to some of the people i am close to. And i am amazed by there positive response. They are so happy to receive a card after such a long time.<br /><br />Monica AKA "Granny" to me is a very special friend. She is perhaps the most smart,talented and creative person i have ever met.(Last heard she had quit her advertising job and is writing a book). And after reading her email i just cannot stop smiling. So i thought to share with you guys what she wrote. (Hope Monica wont kill me!!!)<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: times new roman; font-size: 14px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 16px; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Dear Karan,<br /><br />When I was a kid, and as I continue being a kid, I still love looking<br />forward to Diwali. Diwali meant illuminating the house with lots and<br />lots of diyas and candles… somehow they've always been the much better<br />option than tubelights and lightbulbs; decorating the front porch of<br />the house with my very amateurish Rangoli; dressing up in bizarre and<br />bright colours; and enjoying delicious meals with the family.<br /><br />While I've always looked forward to receiving those boxes of dry<br />fruits every Diwali, this time, I'll have something better to look<br />forward to… your greeting card.<br /><br />Karan, do you realise what you'll be doing? And why I liked this idea<br />of yours so much? You'll be restoring, in your very special way, the<br />importance of the common Postman. He shall, like the good old days,<br />become an important entity in this whole festival system… A messenger<br />of good wishes and good cheer. House to house, building to building,<br />and locality to locality, you shall be allowing him to tread spaces<br />that the Internet has denied him in recent times.</span><br /><br />Though i did not have all this things in mind when i set out to do this, it just made my day.<br />Thanks Monica. We still have to meet."CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-91178472440496798172008-10-01T00:03:00.004+05:302008-10-01T00:08:32.635+05:30Fall in Love All over Again<div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;" >yaadon mein jiski<br />kissi ka naam hai<br />sapnon ke jaisi<br />uski har shaam hai<br />koi toh ho jisse<br />apna dil dijiye<br />phir dekhiye…</span><br /></div><br />This lyric from Rock On tells a story. This blog is all about love and songs. What’s my happiness quotient, if I can get up in the morning, and there is a song on my lips!!!<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);">honton pe jiske</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);">koi toh geet hai</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);">woh haare bhi toh</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);">uski hi jeet hai</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);">dil mein jo geet hai</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);">gunguna lijiye</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);">phir dekhiye</span></span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">My all time favourite romantic numbers are:</span><br /></div><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);">Abhi Na Jao Chhod Kar (Hum Dono - 1961):</span> I just love this song. You just cannot have enough of someone whom you truly love. It’s amazing how the world seems so empty if your partner is not around.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-style: italic;">When You Say Nothing at All (Notting Hill):</span> The soundtrack is from my all time favourite romantic movie. I must have seen this movie n number of times. It’s true when you are in love you just don’t need words to communicate.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"><span style="font-style: italic;">Pehla Nasha (Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar):</span> </span> This is the song on my lips when I am feeling top of this world. Your first Childhood crush, first time you fell in love. I guess this is the song when you are falling in love.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-style: italic;">(Everything I do) I do it for you (Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves): </span>Probably the song I wanna play, when I am gonna ask someone to marry me. It has been my number one song for years and I don’t think any song can come close to this. I mean seriously, what more does a guy needs to tell a gal. (Everything I do) I do it for you.<br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);">Life is short.</span> So love like you've never been hurt because every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back."CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-84313820694298396742008-09-03T16:23:00.014+05:302008-09-03T16:41:33.182+05:30Five Year Plan<span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" >I was tired. Tired of running, tired of doing things I never wanted to do, tired of been in the herd, tired of losing my identity, tired of trying to live in the future instead of the present. So on my 23rd birthday I finally decided to break free. It’s a risk, but I guess risk worth taking. In my lifetime I have realized that failures don’t last forever and success is not going be there tomorrow.</span><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" > So now my future looks very blank in front of my eyes. For the first time I am not walking a predictable path walked by others. I am on my own. Yes, it is giving me sleepless nights but I am sure this will pass to. So now when somebody ask me what my plans are I have no clue. But that would make me look very stupid and been a true Virgo – the best planners with an eye for detail; I have come with a Five Year Plan of my own.(People who have no idea what’s a five year plan please go and read your 10th std economics text book).</span><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span> <div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Five year Plan</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><ol style="font-family:lucida grande;"><li><span style="font-size:100%;"> Before my 24th birthday I want to visit Leh and Ladakh and capture its beautiful landscape. A gentle reminder to you Dee about my new DSLR.</span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;">Write a book, not a complete novel but a collection of short stories or my memoirs or some complete random stuff about anything. Though I haven’t set any time frame; finishing one book by 25th birthday would be great.</span><span style="font-size:100%;">(Dedicated to K.S. These time more than nine chapters I promise) </span><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><a href="http://shithapens.blogspot.com/2008/09/good-night.html"></a><br /></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;"> Waving India’s tricolour as F1 cars zoom past me. Nothing could be more adrenaline pumping then to see a Ferrari on a race track taking the chequered flag. </span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;">Watching the Red devils play in Old Trafford. The best part if I can watch the game on my birthday and Rooney scores…</span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;">Learning how to play drums. And bang bang wake all my neighbours’ up. Ha-ha. Now that I know Air Rifle shooting, taking it seriously to participate in some local tournaments.</span></li></ol><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">I will be 28th in five years. (Jeez I know maths!!!) Why worry today what I will be doing.<br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >Check my new poem!!! <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"> </span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" href="http://shithapens.blogspot.com/2008/09/good-night.html">Good Night</a><a href="http://shithapens.blogspot.com/2008/09/good-night.html"><br /></a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://shithapens.blogspot.com/2008/09/good-night.html"><br /></a></span></div>"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-63957652246904364072008-08-23T01:46:00.004+05:302008-08-23T01:48:51.135+05:30Black and White PhotosThis post is gonna be short ... Posted some photos that i have clicked recently... Be my guest and have a look. You can vote..(Please do So)...<br /><a href="http://mirror-pictures.blogspot.com/">http://mirror-pictures.blogspot.com/</a> . Here is the Link"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-30595378292496388352008-06-01T21:04:00.002+05:302008-06-01T21:09:59.311+05:30Barso re Megha, Barso re<p class="MsoNormal">On a quiet Sunday evening I have decided to forgo my evening siesta and write something after a long hiatus. I have kept my self busy by attending workshop on Photography and also completing a course on Air rifle shooting. Due to my interest in photography I got to see many new places which was wonderful but which also meant that I was as busy on weekends as I am during the weekdays…</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>The <b style="">Pied Crested Cuckoo</b> also called the Rain bird has arrived in Mumbai signalling that it may Rain soon and keeping with time I have changed my caller tune.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I have never liked rains ever since I was kid. Its surprising that after living in Mumbai for 23 years I still haven’t gotten to love it as much as my family and friends do. As a kid whenever it rained it meant staying indoors with the adults since you couldn’t go out and play. It also meant paying a visit to my local doctor. I use to wait when the Sun will come out and I can rush outside to play.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">As it happens in Life you meet some one who helps you change your opinion.<br />Sujata loved rains ever since she was kid… every time it would rain a smile would break on her face. She didn’t saw the pot holes filled roads, the jammed packed buses or the slowing down of trains, she only saw the rain droplets trickling down her face.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">We no longer share the friendship we did once and having our differences decided to take different paths. As time passes and I get older I will forget some of the moments we shared. But come rains and I am sure that there is someone who will be dancing and smiling. <span style=""> </span>So Do I love rains? It cannot be answered in yes or no but I don’t hate them any more like I use too…</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-65914190159537837722008-02-26T02:11:00.007+05:302008-02-26T02:19:55.516+05:30Sleeping Pill for an Insomniac!!!<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">“Love means not ever having to say you’re sorry.”</span> I have never read a more beautiful line than this or may be I haven’t read that many classics to begin with. Sometimes when it gets difficult to find sleep at night and nothing else will work I go to my book shelf and search for a book called<span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"> “</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Love Story by Erich Segal</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">”.</span><br />I have no idea how this book became my sleeping pill but every time sleep has deserted me reading the book always puts me to sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">There are lot of books which can put you to sleep some engineering books are quite famous for putting its readers to sleep in no time. But I just love the characters. Its 133 pages from start to end and that means I can finish the book in 90 minute or even less than that. And by the end of it I am so numb and my mind is so blank that I just close my eyes and I am asleep. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">I have always been a huge fiction fan and action and thrillers rank high on my list. But this is perhaps the only book which is different from the genre I read. Its amazes me how in less than 100 pages the author can pack so many emotions. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">Talking about emotions I guess it will be interesting to read <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">“</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">It’s Not About the bike by Lance Armstrong</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">”</span><span style=""><br /></span>World champion at age of 24 who fought cancer to become 7 times winner of Tour de France one of the world toughest sporting event. One of my sporting heroes…<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">I guess by next blog is gonna be on that book. Till my next blog you can check out my new writing <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">“</span><a style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" href="http://shithapens.blogspot.com/2008/02/november.html">November</a><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">”</span>. It’s crappy as usual…</span></p><p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 100%;">Ever since we met in November,<br />Yours is the only face I remember<br />Night and day…</span></p> <p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 100%;">Its true believe me<br />With lips of an angel<br />You sound so sweet </span></p> <p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 100%;">Without you on my side<br />Life seems to be a big lie…</span></p> <p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 100%;">Words Can't Say What A Love Can Do!!!</span></p> <p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 100%;">But that was yesterday<br />You are so far away<br />And I am on my own<br />It felt lot like love<br />Till yesterday it felt so great </span></p> <p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 100%;">Been in love…</span></p> <p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 100%;">Its true believe me<br />Words Can't Say What A Love Can Do!!!</span></p> <p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size: 100%;">With lips of an angel<br />You sound so sweet</span><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-58551795552379936222008-01-22T22:50:00.000+05:302008-01-22T23:05:28.814+05:30F.R.I.E.N.D.S<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10;">Friends they play different role every day in your life. You love them, hate them, miss them but cannot live in a world without them. This article is dedicated to some of my friends without whom my life would be less interesting and also because there is a funny story how I became friends with them.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:10;">Neha AKA “Kiddo”:-</span></b><span style="font-size:10;"> Seven years and still counting. In class of 150 on the first day of junior college she was the only voice that got my attention and I managed to know her name which incidentally helped me to borrow biology notes from her since I knew her name and could ask her. In seven long years since then we have been through thick and thin. I still call her a <b style=""><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">kid</span> </b>and planning to give her a special award for listening to me for so many years and still been sane. Perhaps the only person who can read my mind and that’s special given the fact that my brain never sleeps.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36pt;"><b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:10;">Moments</span></b><span style="font-size:10;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">:</span> hmm there are many but perhaps my surprise visit to her when I landed unannounced in Pune.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10;"><span style=""> </span><b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Little known fact:</b> We have never attended each other birthdays.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-size:10;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Priyanka AKA “Pri” AKA ”Babes”:-</span> </span></b><span style="font-size:10;">She though I was aloof and may be a touch arrogant since I kept forgetting her name and kept calling her by some other name(that’s y two nicknames for her). <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10;">We got to know each other while working on a white paper contest. The fact is I wasn’t in the original team and came in because they were one person short .She is my eternal girlfriend. We love to argue. Given a choice she would kill me because I irritate her so much. But all beautiful girls have beautiful heart and so I am still alive…<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10;"><span style=""> </span><b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Moments:</b> The birthday party we friends threw for her 20<sup>th</sup> birthday. The smile on her face was worth all the effort. One of my best surprise parties till date.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10;"><span style=""> </span><b style=""><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Little known fact:</span> </b><span style=""> </span>She is my Self appointed relationship advisor.<span style=""> </span><b style=""><span style=""> </span></b><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-size:10;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Prajwal AKA “Praj” AKA “My Devil twin ”:-</span> </span></b><span style="font-size:10;">If this was 70’s, then we would have been part of Manmohan Desai classic of two brothers lost in a mela and meeting after 21 years. I always knew him as priyanka’s friend but Goa trip last summer actually changed this. His home is now my weekend getaway. We discuss everything right from girls to our first love Manchester United. There are very few people whom I respect and he is one of them. It needs courage to walk on road less travel. The fact that he is running his own small firm is no mean achievement by any accounts.<o:p></o:p></span><br /><b style=""><span style="font-size:10;"><br /><span style=""> </span><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Moments: </span></span></b><span style="font-size:10;"><span style=""> </span>The Goa trip. Matches in which Man United wins.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10;"><span style=""> </span><b style=""><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Little known fact:</span> </b><span style=""> </span>We can read each others thoughts.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:10;">Karishma AKA “Superwoman”:- </span></b><span style="font-size:10;">Well we were a part of a team of more than 50 people who were involved in organizing a technical fest at inter city level.<span style=""> </span>In all the two months of preparation our path never crossed and we actually met for the first time at the reunion a year later. The first time we met she thought I was arrogant. <span style=""> </span>One of the very few people I enjoy talking to.<span style=""> </span>Has an amazing sense of humor. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10;"><span style=""> </span><b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Moments:</b><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"> </span>The first time we met.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10;"><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span><b style=""><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Little known fact:</span> </b>Love making greeting cards for friends...<span style=""></span> <span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:10;">Raisa AKA “Moufflou”:-<span style=""> </span></span></b><span style="font-size:10;">I hate going to social gatherings and especially where I know no one. So after saying no to dad that I won’t accompany him to his Bangalore trip I don’t know what made me change my mind especially since if I decide something I hardly go back. One of the most beautiful people I have ever met. Even though she lives on a different continent and a different time zone our journey till now has been fun. Multi talented and a drama queen.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10;"><span style=""> </span><b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Moments:</b> The surprise birthday present I made for her. Bangalore trip.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10;"><span style=""> </span><b style=""><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Little known fact:</span> </b>Thought I hated her at first... <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10;">Well the fact remains what ever first impression I may have had on them they have realized over a period of time that someone like me is <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">rare</span> and even though they would like if I can keep my mouth shut they love me nevertheless… <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10;"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10;"><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-27114017195608422362007-12-17T22:34:00.000+05:302007-12-17T22:39:53.833+05:30Good Bye 2007!!!! A year to remember<p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);" class="MsoNormal">Exactly a year ago I posted my first blog post <a href="http://sshithappens.blogspot.com/2006/12/year-in-solitude.html">An year in solitude</a>. It’s been a nice experience writing blogs since then and many of my friends have been kind enough to read some of my crap and reply back. Of all the blog that I have written <a href="http://sshithappens.blogspot.com/2007/03/angel-and-devilthe-friendship.html">angel-and-devil the-friendship</a> remains everyone’s favorite. I remember writing this blog at 3’oclock in the night. I was unable to sleep and it was an attempt on my part to sleep but surprisingly the words just kept on flowing and within 20 minutes I was done. I guess when words comes from the heart it shows.</p><p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);" class="MsoNormal">2007 has been a year which I would like to carry with me in future. I had more ups then downs learned a lot from a teacher called experience. It’s been a year where I met my twin brother after 22 years…I and praj are so similar that priyanka calls us twins. </p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);" class="MsoNormal">It was a year where one moment I was in control of my life the next I wasn’t. A year where I was in hospital for one instance and writing my final exams the next.A year where India loses to Bangladesh and wins the 20-20 world cup. It’s been that kind of a year a hell of a roller coaster ride…</p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);" class="MsoNormal">What 2008 holds for I have no idea… hopefully good. This will be my last blog for the year 2007. As the year changes hands so will this blog. Will come up with different design and features in the year 2008.<br />Planning to add a book review section to this blog where at least one book review will be written by me in a month. So next year looks promising and I am still single what more could I ask…!!!!</p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);" class="MsoNormal">Cheers!!!! Have Fun…<span style=""> </span></p>"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-4710457332809526982007-10-20T12:27:00.000+05:302007-10-20T13:12:16.585+05:30Prem Sadan<p class="MsoNormal">I could smell the sea breeze as I got down from the bus. Walking towards <a href="http://www.helpersofmary.org/community.asp?id=17">PREMSADAN</a><span style=""> </span>a home of love for orphan and poor girls along with rest of the guys who had decided to come and spent some time with the children it was strange feeling inside me something which is hard to describe in words. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">We met the kids and distributed chocolates to them. But not a single of them asked us for more. It was strange forcing kids to accept the chocolates second time. We had to force them. That is something which stayed with me the discipline and the fact that they don’t ask more in life. And they are still kids.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">We played, danced, sang and clicked photos. It was nice to be kid again. The two hours we spent we learned a lot. Certainly I did. There were all smiling. Never once I saw anyone sad even though god knows what they must have gone through.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">This blog is an attempt on my part to reach out to those people who want to help and do something good for the society but doesn’t have the medium to do so.<span style=""> </span>Guys believe me it doesn’t take much to bring smile on their faces.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://mirror-pictures.blogspot.com/2007/10/prem-sadan.html">To see their Smile/Photos Click Here.</a></p> <p class="MsoNormal">To be on Record we managed to raise almost 11000 Rs/- with 25 people contributing to the pool. There was no limit and minimum amount. The amount to be given was left on the individual decision to contribute.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>We managed to purchase lot of daily items of necessity for the kids and are planning again to go there a week before Diwali.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">If you want to join us and help the kids you can call me /mail me. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">My number is 9323850671.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Email id: karan_singh1985@yahoo.com</p><p class="MsoNormal">Prem Sadan: <a href="http://www.helpersofmary.org/community.asp?id=17">http://www.helpersofmary.org/community.asp?id=17</a><br /></p>"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-55096456828951623912007-10-13T01:36:00.000+05:302007-10-13T01:41:58.299+05:30Lost in the Clouds<p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">He knew he was lost in the crowd who had gathered out there to listen to some religious guru give his views on life. It had happened so quickly. In hurry to get away quickly from the maddening crowd he had lost the holding of his mother’s hand.</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">He ran few meters to his left and then to his right and then stopped. He was panicking now. The crowd was swelling and he was lost. He knew what happened to the children who were lost. They never get to meet their parents again and are made to beg on the streets. </span></p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">He kept on running every few meters in all directions before stopping. He was searching for his mother but he could not find her in the crowd. Why he had let go her hand in the first place.<br />He was crying now because he knew he was lost and would never see his mother again. He just stood their crying. </span></p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">Suddenly a hand touched his shoulder. He turned back to look at a woman who was asking him his name. She took his hand and asked him to come with her. She told him she was taking him to the volunteers who will be able to find his mother. </span></p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">The boy followed her with her hand firmly gripped in his. He didn’t want to let her go at any cost. The woman finally handed the boy to volunteer to who was looking for him. The announcement had already been made on the public system and all the volunteers were told to look out for a young boy who was lost.</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">When the boy saw his mother he ran quickly and hugged her. The mother and child were both relieved to find each other. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">*******************************</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">That was almost 15 years ago. I do get lost even today. </span></p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">Lost, lost in my own world, in my own thoughts, in the rat race. </span></p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">I don’t know how my life would have turned out be if not for that strange female who helped me. That day she helped me find my mother.</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">But today when I get lost I try to find myself in this maddening place where everyone is so caught up with themselves that they sometimes don’t remember who they are , they just know who they want to be like. </span></p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">Every one of us wants happiness in our lives and we chase it all through our existence on this planet. <span style=""> </span>The key to it is not lost its there somewhere all we have to do is search a bit. Search within us.</span></p>"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-78842003531475334812007-09-27T00:38:00.002+05:302008-08-22T23:45:47.295+05:30Life is just what happens to you, While your busy making other plans<span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" >There are three things in this world which I have never understood clearly …One is</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" > <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">love</span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" ><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">,</span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">second been</span> </span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" >religious fanaticism</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" ><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"> </span>and third been </span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" >what goes inside my head</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" ><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">.</span><br /><br />Love? I have never seen love so don’t know how it looks except for the fact that it makes people either very happy or completely depressed. Either way you have to be lucky in love. What makes it come to you and what makes it leave you is a mystery which I bet no one has an answer to it.<br /><br />My own theory on it is very simple and may be seem crude to others.<br />It’s a like new toy which you gift a child and he plays with it day and night.<br />After sometimes he starts getting bored and wants a new one. As a parent you will gift you child a new toy but as a person you cannot buy a new love. Can you?<br />So the only way to keep your own interest alive is to be innovative in love.<br />I have no idea what that means right now but I am working on it and who knows I may have made next best discovery after Sigmund Freud.<br /><br />The only reason the world today is not a safer place to live in spite of the advancement of the medical science because there are scores of people who are out there locked in debate whose <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">GOD</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span>is superior. In spite of the advancement of the education the tolerance level has reached so low it really bothers me as a human being.<br /><br />So many life’s are lost everyday in various conflicts because they see people as Muslim, Christians, Jews, Hindus but no one has even try to see them as a fellow human being. Same as you and me. Having same right to breathe and to live. But in there love for GOD they carry out their acts and live to tell the tale. I really wish someday people will start seeing each other as humans being first and Muslim, Christians, Jews, Hindus later and till that happens the mindless bloodshed will continue.<br /><br />I am sitting in my room and thinking...And thinking about what...random thoughts which comes in my mind and it could be anything…and this means for the next few days I will be in deep thought till I am satisfied with the solution my mind comes with.<br />And there are lots of thing to think about. And I guess that’s the problem of been young. You believe you have so much to live for in the future that you want to make it perfect.<br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" > <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"> <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">“Life is just what happens to you, </span></span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" > While your busy making other plans”</span>"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-22445067603166083712007-09-09T23:33:00.000+05:302007-09-09T23:40:41.567+05:30Cutie PieIts been a long time since i wrote anything ...i usually write when i feel low so as to take out the negative energy within me...but this is wasnt the case this time ...<br />well its difficult to stretch your imagination if u dont have touch of realism in it and come up with something which is really nice..but i have tried to that and like many of my earlier works i find it crappy ...but still its a dedication for someone very sweet ..so i decided to post it online and see what the reaction will be...<br /><br />i have tried to make it funny..so tell how u guys find it...<br /><br /><br />I saw a cutie pie…<br />She was selling shoes and tie...<br />Shining bright was her smile<br />And I looked at her for a while…<br /><br />She comes and asks for my number<br />I thought she would give me a ring…<br />She just wanted to know<br />Which pair shoes to bring…?<br /><br />I knew I made a blunder…<br />But what was I to say …<br />Cause I had already surrender...<br /><br />I left the store with tie and shoes...<br />Hoping to come back telling it was loose…<br />Twinklings were her eyes...<br />As I made up the lies…<br /><br />I met a cutie pie…<br />She was selling shoes and tie..."CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-18442778995837435492007-08-14T23:47:00.000+05:302007-08-15T00:04:52.611+05:30Photography!!!<span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >Photography has been passion since childhood... i like capturing moments which will never come back again..it is first time i got a chance to do click some wildlife and its was amazing...they dont wait for you to say cheese..and with the boat moving a still pace it was difficult but i loved every seconds of it..i did my best hope you guys do like it..please do leave your comments..photography is close to my heart and i would love to hear from you guys..</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >I have added the link on the left hand side</span></span>.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://mirror-pictures.blogspot.com/">.</a><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://mirror-pictures.blogspot.com/"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Wildlife Photographs!!!</span></a></span><br /></span></span></span></span>"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-513537783128231522007-07-31T19:45:00.000+05:302007-07-31T19:49:10.525+05:30The Great Indian Wedding Drama...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoBIU8Y9NjuSV3xJ8gJU90A3pyA-mn6HUqp-FhaKuXmTKQDTxYX8n7KEQ_3tQ-V0LDTPyja0YefsM5XR-T7Nr7sIiodBNCu-AV9kOWyPFwr7VnZKdBYa3vvu9oG4hou0te1YqW0UMigV7W/s1600-h/Indian_marriage.gif"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoBIU8Y9NjuSV3xJ8gJU90A3pyA-mn6HUqp-FhaKuXmTKQDTxYX8n7KEQ_3tQ-V0LDTPyja0YefsM5XR-T7Nr7sIiodBNCu-AV9kOWyPFwr7VnZKdBYa3vvu9oG4hou0te1YqW0UMigV7W/s320/Indian_marriage.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093365032909142850" border="0" /></a><br /> <p style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">We all have been to the great Indian wedding at least once in our lives… We have the groom and the bride, their relatives ,people all nicely dressed up and of course the food that is dished out to the people attending the wedding and everyone eating as if there is no tomorrow...</span></p> <p style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">But this blog is not about the wedding it’s about the conversation that takes place when the guy and girl meet up for the first time. And believe me guys it’s scary …</span></p> <p style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">Now in this modern era the girl and the guy are given their own space to speak to each other… and their families having been already exchange their bio data and god knows what..…and while my friend was narrating this incident to me my mind was playing the scenes of the movie “Hyderabad blues” where nagesh kuknoor friend is sitting along side his would be wife in the drawing room with their families watching them intensely…it was quite funny if you see that scene…</span></p> <p style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">So the guy was what I could make out was all prepared to dish out one question after another to the girl who I am told managed to hold on her own quite well..</span></p> <p style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">And I am thinking is this some sort of an interview that’s going on between a HR guy and interviewee… and only on that basis he/she is going to decide whether they are compatible or not.. I guess is quite a risk because you will be right only 50 % of the time and I am not at all comfortable with such odds…</span></p> <p style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">Statisticians who have nothing better to do have come out with a rather interesting theory. If ones are to believe them 70% of all the romances that’s happening are in the offices/workplace where you’re working and if you lucky enough to fall in those 70 % then you are quite safe…</span></p> <p style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">Otherwise if you looking to get married in future taking some HR crash course won’t harm you…since you will be deciding what’s good for you on the basis of one interview same like those guys when they hire you….scary isn’t it if you get it wrong…</span></p>"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-55188508930957596232007-07-26T23:51:00.000+05:302007-07-27T00:09:59.211+05:30The Heroes of Kargil:8th anniversary..<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTdBZn9iEdiPdSKrLYVReqOr8DA5C6sHcMKtBM70wDIWt9nDCpBPqLD0U41-rAAkZ_bacvdaows2mIAdeYQC0kyAzrPp4P_AJ0JSG6LZATK3beKLgIdS21mw_s9PwMUknFhZehwnIm6kfT/s1600-h/Homage.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTdBZn9iEdiPdSKrLYVReqOr8DA5C6sHcMKtBM70wDIWt9nDCpBPqLD0U41-rAAkZ_bacvdaows2mIAdeYQC0kyAzrPp4P_AJ0JSG6LZATK3beKLgIdS21mw_s9PwMUknFhZehwnIm6kfT/s320/Homage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091574787460954930" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: times new roman;font-size:130%;" ><br /></span><center><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family: times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" >They'd promised their families they'd come back soon. They more than kept their word. Went as mere men. Came back as heroes. In coffins.</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span> </span> <p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"><span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-family: times new roman; font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" >"THEY GAVE THEIR TODAY FOR OUR TOMORROW</span>"</span></p><p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"><span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;" >At 15000-ft, you are not normal. You cannot be. The human body is attuned to a certain altitude.<br /><br /> And that's where our soldiers where. Fighting the enemy. Facing the bullets. Dying alone in the snow. Falling to death from the high ridges. No one hears their scream. It's such a lonely death. A tiny piece of metal is all what it takes to die.<br /><br /> They were our infantrymen. The finest in the world. No other soldier has ever fought at these heights. At 15000ft, they can't move with ease. In Batalik, there are no tracks. Climb. Clamber. Crawl. A soldier carries a week's ration, ammunition, a 5.56mm assault rifle or a mortar or a rocket launcher. He carries over 20 kgs on his back as he pulls himself up on this rugged, cruel terrain.<br /><br /> He doesn't sleep. He doesn't have time to eat. He doesn't have time to urinate. Life is not what it is. Life is a shell. It is the terror of death. It is the courage of facing it. It is fear, raw, unalloyed, unrelenting.... the enemy is up there, somewhere hidden. It can see you, can track you down like a rat, can pick you out so effortlessly...and yet these men move, slowly but with determination to fight for the nation. To die for the nation.<br /><br /> You know how it feels to be up there in the cold, cold mountains, carrying a heavy backpack with a gnawing fear that you will never see your eight-year-old daughter. That sweet little thing with a ponytail and a smile that lights up your world. You may not hear her giggles, see her climb your shoulder, run around, throw her dolls in anger, paint the walls in doodles.... You will not be there for her.<br /><br /> You know what fear is. That is the fear. Not being there. Death is not what matters. What matter is that you will not matter anymore. And yet the soldiers go up the hills, like the charge of the light brigade, never asking questions, never expecting an answer. They know they have a duty, they have a pledge, they have a promise to keep. Their tryst with destiny.<br /><br /> It is not easy to imagine a soldier, an infantry man's life up there in Batalik, where th<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">e wind can sear your windpipe, chill your brains, make your eyes weep with pain and lungs cry out in sheer exhaustion. Brave. That is what these soldiers were. Brave in the face of death. Brave in the face of fear. Facing bullets.more than Six hundred of them died. Let not their death go waste, unacknowledged.Remember them!!!!</span><br /></span></span></p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >http://www.kashmir-information.com/Heroes/salute.html</span><p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span> </p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><br /></span></p></center>"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-16021628205615810022007-03-27T00:48:00.000+05:302007-03-27T01:12:32.479+05:30Just when I got all the answers of LIFE they changed the question...<p class="MsoNormal"><em><span style="font-style: normal;">Recently while browsing on the net I came across this quote on a blog. I have absolutely no idea who wrote this or from where it originally originated from but it did make me think… <o:p></o:p></span></em></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><em><span style="font-style: normal;">The only constant thing in life is it ever changing nature and that’s what makes life very interesting or I may say darn difficult to predict.<o:p></o:p></span></em></p><p class="MsoNormal"><em><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">You life is actually not yours.</span> It may sound like a clichéd statement but if you really think you may agree with me that there are lots of other factors, variables present which force us to live a life which we may not wholly agree with.<o:p></o:p></span></em></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><em><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Ever tried controlling your life?</span> Well you may say we all are in control of our lives since we live in a free world but life doesn’t likes to be controled, like us it also wants to be free…<br />And due to this you life is never constant but a series of changing events which keeps you guessing as to what to do next.<o:p><br /></o:p></span></em></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><em><span style="font-style: normal;">It’s interesting to note that the twist in life comes when you least expects it to come… over the past few months I have realized that I cannot control life and the factors which govern it. The only thing which I can control is <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">I…</span><br />And I have tried to associate all the world happiness, sadness to myself rather than associating it with someone else ... since i can control myself but not others..<o:p></o:p></span></em></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><em><span style="font-style: normal;">Like I said in my earlier blog I have no idea where do these questions come from but one thing I am damn sure now is that we do have to come up with an answer to these questions…<o:p></o:p></span></em></p>"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-83875864913628527052007-03-04T13:39:00.000+05:302007-03-04T14:15:45.166+05:30Angel and Devil:The Friendship!!!!<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">There are always stories, incidents which you like to share with others as to how you became friends with someone… how you hated the person at the first look and now you cannot get enough of that person…<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">What happens when two opposite meet, well they get attracted to each other. Because that’s what the law of physics says. And it has been saying this for past hundreds of years. And if it is good enough for physics then it should be good enough for relations too…… <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Now that’s where the interesting part comes up. Now this two people are not ordinary creation of God, one is an <b style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Angel</b> and other one is a <b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Devil</b> himself. Both are created by the hands of god himself and both of them are needed to maintain the equilibrium of good and bad in this world. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">They shouldn’t have met up in the first place and when they did in a competition it was hard for the <b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Devil</b> not to throw a challenge to the <b style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Angel</b>. It was even harder to accept defeat from her. But over a period of time it became a mutual admiration on their part for each other.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">For <b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Devil</b> talking to an <b style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Angel</b> is as refreshing as the fresh morning dew. Something he really looks forward to. As for the <b style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Angel</b> well she has been thought to be nice and thoughtful of others even if the other person happens to be the <b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Devil</b> …..<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">They meet up when ever they can and on their days off from their respective work they do make a point to meet up at their secret isolated location and talk. Even if the location happens to snow peak clad mountains... And that’s what they do, talk and talk for hours. And that they can do so in a peaceful manner is astonishing…<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Over a period of time they have realized that there thoughts are almost the same which prompted the <b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Devil</b> to ask<span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"> </span><b style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Angel</b> the question “if our thoughts matches so much then why did god made you an <b style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Angel</b> and me a <b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Devil</b>” to which the <b style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Angel</b> replied “Everyone of us has a<span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"> </span><b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Devil</b> and an <b style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Angel</b><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"> </span>in them .its how you see yourself. Maybe you see only <b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Devil</b><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"> </span>in yourself and <b style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Angel</b> in me…”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">It’s amazing what a single moment or an act or a silly contest can do….well nothing much...it can get two people close and make them friends…..<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-88715459803698943722007-02-05T17:13:00.000+05:302007-02-05T17:36:38.133+05:30Questions & Answers<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;" >There are times, moments in your life when you have more questions then answers, more self doubts then faith and you cease to be the driver of your own destiny. And this moment of time I have more questions than answers.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;" ><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;" >Where do these questions come from anyways, why they have to take away my peace of mind, make me insomniac? Guess reading a self help book could possible answer some of my question. But I won’t do it. I have too much pride in me which forbids me to do that.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"><br /><span style="line-height: 150%;font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;" > <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;" >Frustration is my companion now days. I feel frustrated, frustrated with the college, with the surroundings, with my friends. I have started enjoying staying alone, sitting in one corner of my room and looking up at the ceiling wondering were am I headed.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"><br /><span style="line-height: 150%;font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in; line-height: 150%; color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;" ><span style=""> </span></span><span style="line-height: 150%;font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153);">May be I will never be able to answer all the life’s</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153);"> </span><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153);">question but hopefully I will be able to answer few of them.</span></span><span style="line-height: 150%;font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;" ><span style=""> </span><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153);"></span><o:p></o:p></span></p>"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6546283866419912260.post-29487800358777179302007-01-13T13:12:00.000+05:302007-01-13T13:46:00.293+05:30"GURU-The Movie "<a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxiIk6oFRx0WU0G7x9QNl2996fc7yIYCdGkph9ELB2HTz0mGLmA38eoMTIKzuADDMn1qSylutaNy0c6ad1A96CgWOHcEENGmYCML_pDjlS2CxoZnK4355cEHFCkXYtLg-sjDJsx0FTsp1f/s1600-h/still11.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxiIk6oFRx0WU0G7x9QNl2996fc7yIYCdGkph9ELB2HTz0mGLmA38eoMTIKzuADDMn1qSylutaNy0c6ad1A96CgWOHcEENGmYCML_pDjlS2CxoZnK4355cEHFCkXYtLg-sjDJsx0FTsp1f/s320/still11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019422864434792018" border="0" /></a><br /> <p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" class="MsoNormal">Watching a movie first day first show has its own charm, it’s a like mystery novel which you have picked on the weekend and cannot wait to reach the last page.<br /> GURU is a story of a common Indian villager with dreams to succeed in this world and he can go at any lengths to fulfill it. For him <b style=""><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);">“the ends justify the means” </span><span style=""> </span></b>Partially based on the life of <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Dhirubhai</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Ambani</span><span style=""> </span>the movie showcases the journey of <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Gurukant</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Desai</span><span style=""> </span>from a tiny village in Gujarat to becoming the richest businessman in the country.<br /> Giving <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Abhishek</span> company is <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Ashwariya</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">rai</span> who plays his wife <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Sujata</span>. <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Mithun</span> plays the role of a owner of newspaper. <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Madhavan</span> plays a fiery reporter and <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Vidya</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">balan</span> looking beautiful as ever plays the role of a crippled young girl.<br /> In an author backed <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">roled</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Abhishek</span> proves again why he is the hottest star in the <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">bollywood</span>. The love chemistry between the lead pair is to be seen. <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Vidya</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">balan</span> is wasted. Even though she puts her heart and smile in her role she could have been used better.<br />The duo of <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Gluzar</span> and A.R <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Rehman</span> delivers yet again. The music is good .The climax though has a shade of the movie “Aviator” where in the movie the protagonist Howard Hughes faces an inquiry.<br />In the end you are confused as to what the director wanted to say. Whether he wants to justify the means employed be the protagonist to achieve his goals wherein he pays no regards to the rules of the land and make him a hero who got rich along the way making the people richer too. </p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" class="MsoNormal">But even though the pace of the movie slows down in the second half it is nevertheless an inspiring movie. it makes us think . <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 0);">It tells us no matter who you are where you are from you have the right to dream big in this world</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"> ..</span>And that my friend is the story of GURU.</p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>"CEO,Monster Inc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/14788994834919405805noreply@blogger.com0