<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338</id><updated>2012-01-25T22:27:46.384-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog-O-Parik</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>62</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-5877850185744119212</id><published>2007-10-29T17:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T08:26:35.421-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Its all about strategy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A discussion with a friend of mine revealed to him, how I thought about strategy in most things I did. The fastest, most efficient way or sometimes just the easiest way around things. But strategy was inherent in the way I made my decisions. Sometimes not the best, but there always was a strategy. However, it did not exactly dawn on me how I was deploying strategy in the very moves I made in daily life. Today, a discussion with another friend, and a little bit of retrospective analysis revealed the strategist in me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There was an article on rediff today that said that Mukesh Ambani became the world's richest many today. I believe the fantastic performance of the stock market (though a bit scary), definitely has a part to play. However, what I was discussing with my friends was the strategy deployed by the many companies under the reliance banner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;One of my friend believes that they are thieves! That they have grown mainly due to the malpractices that a corrupt government (mainly the Congress party) gave them. He also believes that when most SIP (Systematic Investment Plans) were keeping Rs. 1000 per month as a minimum requirement for the plan, reliance came up with a plan that has a minimum of Rs. 100 per month only - His conclusion - Reliance has a way of taking money out of even the poorest of the people; be it investment or retail.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As a business student in this cut throat business world, I like to think of this "way" of extracting money as a strategy. I am not here to judge what was done by which company in the past or is being done today - but what I love to see is a good strategy. I plan to make it a practice to deploy strategy in the way I do business and make important decisions of life - consciously now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;However, amongst all these conversations I remembered a very interesting illustration of my strategic mind, back in my childhood days. If my brother or sister or cousins or even friends, (we are talking 5 year olds here), broke something, for example, they would run away or instinctively say that they did not do it or that someone else, like the maid for example, did it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Me - however .. would go running to my mom with a rather calm looking face like nothing happened at all, sit in her lap, play with her necklace or something and look at her with the most innocent face ever saying, "you know mumma ____ happened ".. At first shocked.. she'd just laugh and be like.. its okay.. And I'd always get away..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;How I know that I was good?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;If my dad ever saw it and walked into the room... Just seeing me sit there in moms lap swinging away with that face and those eyes.. He's just say.. Never mind.. and walk out and have someone clean it up..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So, yeah.. its all about strategy :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-5877850185744119212?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/5877850185744119212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=5877850185744119212&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/5877850185744119212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/5877850185744119212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/10/its-all-about-strategy.html' title='Its all about strategy'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-8731826799841979545</id><published>2007-10-21T15:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T10:47:41.178-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The perfect angel &amp; her soul mate</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My brother wrote a brilliant piece expressing his emotions and someone who read it asked me if I believed in the so called "true love" or perfect love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I thought back and realized I knew people who lived by the "I will give my life for you" kinda love. The fancy romeo juilet style love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And then, on the same day, I receive a call from, Oh Lord forgive me for saying this, "the perfect angel", (lol - just kidding). Now our angel talks to me about soul mates and stuff. Yes she is a believer of soul mates. I remember her asking me once if I believed in soul mates too.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now all these questions put together and someone very important to me having asked me what my concept of love, true love, etc was; got me thinking। I always told them I had my own concept. My friends expected that answer, because I have my own theories for a lot of things in life. However, in this case, I realized that I have a lot of beliefs - just that I never articulated them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So here it is. Those who call Romeo &amp;amp; juilet perfect lovers or those who think filmy love is all perfect, etc. &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;are not going to like my opinions. And, the soul mate / perfect mate believers won't be disappointed, but won't be very happy with my opinions either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Perception is reality. It really is. Everyone's reality is different. What you perceive is what will become reality for you. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;However a lot of your perception, I believe is either based in part or full on a choice that you can make, or is a choice that you make.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;In one of the Hindi movies, Shaadi Se Pehle, I remember Akshay Khanna saying something to the effect that we want to be great lovers, not like romeo and juliet - that you fall in love and at the end go &amp;amp; die. We want to live a long happy life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;That was his perception of perfect love. Living a long and happy life. Someone else has a different perception, and hence a different reality. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Some, I know cannot live without big gestures, and expect a filmy life. Fine, I hope that they do find someone like that. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Im not saying that they are wrong. I am just saying that keep your choices such that your reality is well real. I know that is highly debatable and my ontology blog will tell you more about it. But in short, keep your reality to do more with tangible things and not base them off other people's imaginations (like for ex, film writer's imaginations).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Of course as I do strongly believe, if you don't make a choice, the choices make you. So you don't step up and make a choice of how you want things, then, well, things will flow into something that you really do not want to be.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I have respect for people who know what they are waiting for, example a soul mate, an arranged marriage, both of those, or even a dream. But only those people who do it by a conscious choice. Not by landing up in that situation because they saw too many movies, or because too many of their friends got into relationships.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I guess what I am trying to say is that I do not actually believe in "true" or "perfect" love. I don't exactly believe in soul mates either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not because there are many flavors of ice-cream out there (like, rocky road, pink cherry, creamy vanilla, etc).. and I wanna try them all.. or that I have options.. (LOL). &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;But because, if my perception is defining my reality, and my reality is making me happy, and being a rational human, I have the option of making my own choices.. then I can choose to make my own choices and be happy, no matter what the situation.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Your soul mate can be anyone. Can be a simple and sweet guy. Can be a rich, famous and strong person. May also be a small guy who became really big.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Point is simple. Be simple and nice. Learning to adjust and compromise. And most importantly, learning to keep your mind open and broad will help you see different perceptions and hence give you the option to build a reality of your own and there by giving you YOUR true / perfect love / your soul mate.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-8731826799841979545?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/8731826799841979545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=8731826799841979545&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/8731826799841979545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/8731826799841979545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/10/perfect-angel-her-soul-mate.html' title='The perfect angel &amp; her soul mate'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-5480660543915320594</id><published>2007-10-16T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T09:02:44.223-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Whiny Traits</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;So it's a regular day. Tubes messed up. Delays. Picadilly line over crowded because some other line has issues. I'm sitting on the tube - ya I got lucky, got a seat - and, I got luckier, I got one of the free Metro papers as well. I don't want to mess up my book, so I don't get it out, and instead continue to read the paper - when I come across an article that totally cracked me up. Today's Metro, page 21..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;"Wimp Chimp: Wild chimpanzees scream like girls when chased or hit by rivals. They also exaggerate the severity of the attack if an ape of equal or senior status to the attacker is nearby. Chimpanzees raised the pitch of their calls for help and made them in longer, slower bouts when faced with serious threats, scientists found...."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Man, that is something. Screaming like girls. Lol. Raising their pitch to that high pitched squeaky sound. Damn. Some women, the wanna be kinds make such terrifyingly squeaky sounds it's unbelievable. Some chimps look at other chimps making squeaky sounds so as to say, WTF.. But.. when its upon them, their squeaks are louder than ever. I know at least a dozen women who do that. Some want to be adored, by similar squeaky species - I am guessing, so they do it much more often and much louder. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;But what amazed me was that they exaggerated the severity of the attack. Now that is something. Tell me one woman who you know who won't do that!?!! Some exaggerate a little bit, which is, I guess, understandable - But, some, God Oh God, they will exaggerate like there is no end to the world! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'd like to think of it as women act like Chimps, rather than say Chimps act like women. And, like we see chimps we make our own judgments / comments and make fun of them, same way there is always someone making their own judgment / comment / making fun of those acting like chimps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no problem with women acting like chimps, in the sense of them making high pitched squeaky sounds every now and then they see a dog or a baby or some fancy shoe.. or anything for that matter.. What normally bothers me about the women in and around my life is that at times I feel that their squeaky pitches are not a part of habit or innate behavior, but that they are in conjunction of another chimp trait - exaggeration. I believe that a lot of women over exaggerate their feelings or at least want to show that they care much more about the thing or situation than they actually do - And I think all of that is due to, what I feel is a part of every woman - a need to get attention. Some more than others - but from what I have seen, it seems they can't do without it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-5480660543915320594?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/5480660543915320594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=5480660543915320594&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/5480660543915320594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/5480660543915320594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/10/whiny-traits.html' title='Whiny Traits'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-5776948915768524475</id><published>2007-10-02T23:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T18:12:46.556-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Conflict and Creativity</title><content type='html'>Apparently they say that from conflicts rises creativity. So then after all, its probably a good thing that my business partner &amp;amp; I have some serious arguments over a lot of things. I mean he has more experience than my age even, so I always give him that, but at times its just not comprehendable, why two people - who are very structured in their, very logical, practical and have some very similar concepts on those subjects and in terms of real life - sometimes have some severly conflicting ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if creativity arises from conflict then all of this may be really useful. However, though I believe in Karma, actually in my version of Karma, and in fate, I also believe that a lot of what you will get is in your hands, today. So I feel that what one gets out of conflict - the creativity - is also subject to how the two parties in conflict, treat the conflict. If they decide to use the outcomes of the conflicting situation or the conflict itself in a sensible and matured way, and think out of the box to be able to see either a solution or a work-around the conflict then you have creativity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have noticed this in observation. Massive conflicts involving overly emotional feelings and locked up mindsets give out nothing. But if one of the parties is logical, more like sensible about it, then I am sure there are creative solutions possible. Otherwise its like you being in a relationship, and at the time of a break up having to counsel your partner (or ex, so to say) though the relationship, because the just cannot think through a conflict.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know a couple that went through something like that - and wow, that sounds seriously though. The other partner isnt wrong either, but its just not in the nature of the situation to let either party be happy. However, the one who eventually can tap their creative senses during this situation can get out happy. How well you use this creative resource will help determine how well your post conflict life will shape up. Kinda like a lot of comedians. Apparently most comedians have had rather rough, tough or sad childhoods - but -  they tapped into their creativity and were able to bring humor to the situation that led them out of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-5776948915768524475?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/5776948915768524475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=5776948915768524475&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/5776948915768524475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/5776948915768524475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/10/conflict-and-creativity.html' title='Conflict and Creativity'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-5329784150677156112</id><published>2007-09-25T23:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T18:13:11.553-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Direction of life - with sign posts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Everyone needs direction in life. Some find their way on their own, some are lucky enough to have people in their life who help them find direction, and some &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;are just lucky tot be moving the right way. Some are, I would say unfortunate  and / or silly, because they do not recognize the correct direction when they &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;have it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I believe that I am rather lucky to have had the right direction in life, and even more so, because I had enough going on around me, to help me realize that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I was given this direction. Many years ago I was walkin on Juhu beach with my grand mom and i was being me - the very excited and exhuberent kid that I was, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;full of energy. I used to do many things in excitement or in the moment, and my dadi &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;(pronounced dah-deeh - for the non Indian folks reading this)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;, as I call her,  would teach me things in the most subtle way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Instead of lecturing, she would tell me the most common things in life, which most people have probably heard - but - in a context or a way, that I always &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;remember it. With the sea water, she had told me a story of how the sea being infinite cannot quench anyone's thirst, but a well being so tiny can quench so &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;many people's thirst. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;This is a concept that people have probably heard about. I dont know, if she tried to tell me that it does not matter how big you are if you are bitter - you rather be nice. Im not sure what exactly she tried to convey, but I learnt something out of it - that was meaningful to me.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, the context in which my dadi told it to me, and the way she put it, I will always remember it. Everytime I see sea water I know a lesson in life. I have lessons in life with trees, shadows, - so many earthly objects. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone, bless his soul, today made me realize that these were like sign posts that my grandmom put for me, to help me find the real direction of life. I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;actually miss her right now!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I told someone recently that I do not like high fly-ers.. This isnt true.. Its not about like or not.. its about who I can see the rest of my life with.. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And.. that is certainly not dependent on if the other person is a high fly-er or not.. It is dependent on how they see the world as against how I see it.. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And the biggest problem is not the one who doesnt have the education (emotional, psychological, theoritical, bookish - anything).. but.. the one who is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;unwilling to learn.. who is unwilling to keep an open mind.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I have a real life example for this concept too. I just want to keep my dadi's thoughts to me right now. But someday soon, I will put up details of the sign &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;posts of my life, and may be that will help others get some direction in life. By direction I dont mean becoming a monk or priest or something. Just simple &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;things that will make you happy and content, by just realizing them. And then, whatever you have in life, you will live it and feel so much better about it.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn! I sound like a philosopher. I like to think of my self as a realist, and even more a logician.. well.. apparently there are a lot more sides to me!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TKxZan3b1s0/RvmGjsy6seI/AAAAAAAAAAs/xEePsAzThzY/s1600-h/04122007%28001%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TKxZan3b1s0/RvmGjsy6seI/AAAAAAAAAAs/xEePsAzThzY/s320/04122007%28001%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114266799734174178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;- Me &amp;amp; my dadi, back in the days when I was keeping long hair!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-5329784150677156112?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/5329784150677156112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=5329784150677156112&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/5329784150677156112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/5329784150677156112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/09/direction-of-life-with-sign-posts.html' title='Direction of life - with sign posts'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TKxZan3b1s0/RvmGjsy6seI/AAAAAAAAAAs/xEePsAzThzY/s72-c/04122007%28001%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-4280040083428678198</id><published>2007-09-21T22:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T18:20:05.161-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Modern Science and Ancient Teachings</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I was discussing a lot of stuff about meta-physics, quantum physics, etc. like I do with most people, with Marty - in particular string theory. One of the things I reazlied was how a lot of these theories related to real world stuff, that was being passed on over generations, through ancient teachings in India. I do not mean, religious implications, just stuff about real life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I had a discussion with several people about how, during the time in history that, there is no track of wher Christ was, it is beleived that he traveled to the east and hence if you see what his teachings say (not how the church interprets it), then you will see several traits of influences of Aryan civilization, Buddhism, Hinduism, etc. I also read some Aryan civilization stuff recently, and an email forward that said that Islam was formed when the prophet Mohammed, got pissed off with Lord Shiva (an Indian diety), who he used to worship, and decided to start a religious faith of his own. I also read stuff about how some people claim that Islam is the best, why they think so and how some believe that CHristianity is the only way out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;My point is that, in no way, any of what I am talking about is to relate to religion. I believe that religion is the interpretation by a person or a group of people, of what a person or a group of people learnt by experience to be the "correct" way to live. It can serve as a guide. But, I do believe one should go with, whatever makes you feel like it will make you a better person. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Coming back to my theme. It turns out that a lot of the things I hear about these latest sciences can relate very closely to ancient teachings. I am not necessairly saying that these people back in the day were cleverer than scientists today, but I have always wondered about the kinds of teachings they imparted, in Vedas and other holy books (religion was the main method or path of communicating teachings, back then).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I read somewhere that if we calculate the estimation of the population of the earth at the time of the egyptian pyramids being built and assume that every single soul on earth contributed all their lifetime to building the pyramids, even then it would not be possible to build them, back in the day. Just two days ago I read a forward that the ancient bridge built between India and Sri-Lanka thousands of years ago, a very critical part of the Ramayana (Indian epic/mythology/history) has now been discovered by Nasa and they can prove its existence and date it back to roughly the same time as the epic. They wanna now call it the Adam bridge and that pissed off several Indian priests, but the point is that, back in the day there were many things that happened that cannot be explained in a simple way. Did they know back then, more than they know today, and we are just going around - In time ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Who knows! But another interesting discussion I had, brought up this point that it doesnt really matter where we came from. Apparently all the theories of evolution (including Darwinian) have flaws in them. But some archaeologists believe that, for example, treatments using things like DNA structures, today, do not really depend on where we came from, say a million years ago. Who knows! May be knowing something about where we came from might help some form of treatment or procedure today, or may be give us better insight into using DNA's or other structures of existing life forms. If nothing else, I am sure man will keep exploring to try and find out more. Curiosity. Like this old guy says in the TV series Lost - Since the dawn of time, man is blessed with curiosity - You know the other one about curiosity, Jack, don't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-4280040083428678198?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/4280040083428678198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=4280040083428678198&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/4280040083428678198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/4280040083428678198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/09/modern-science-and-ancient-teachings.html' title='Modern Science and Ancient Teachings'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-6845151995570613603</id><published>2007-09-17T23:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T18:16:01.757-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting over problems - NLP way</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I have always been interested in studying people. Somehow, any communication skills class I took (which was mostly before 10th grade and just for kicks), I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;felt like it was way too preliminary. Not because I thought too much of my self, but because I realized that I had already noted the stuff being taught in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;those classes. I had sort of, already learnt those things from personal observation. I mean, I may not have taken advantage or implemented everything I had &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;learnt by myself.. but I had probably already observed it during the course of my life.. And.. I did not come across a single class or course in this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;category where I thought I learnt anything so striking that it would take me over..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anyhow, about 6 years ago, I got very interested in NLP or Neuro Linguistic programming. I wanted to do classes on it - at the very least get some NLP books, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;but somehow I never go around to doing it - kinda like learning the guitar - one of the things I wanted to learn since the longest time but never got around &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;to doing it.. Just some time back, from a friend I picked up a book on NLP by Joseph O'Connor and John Seymour - And I love the book. It is exactly the kind &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;of practical / more realistic stuff I had been looking for.. Im enjoying the book so much !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Normally, I try to use the knowledge i gain in different ways - mostly to improve myself or to learn more. However, just the other day I was at a very &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;specific part of the book and I heard a comment being passed by a not so optimistic friend. It was an advice to another friend - which in essese meant "to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;get over someone, get under someone else".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;And I thought to myself that this is a technique that has worked for lots and lots of people. Till someone new doesnt come into their lives - it is hard for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;them to get over the previous person. I will tell you my theory first and then talk about the example the book talks about to convey something similar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I figure that most people treat their previous relationships as bad things. Associate them with something negative. Those who do not - dont have a problem &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;getting over it. Those who do - find something else to, well, get under so they can get over their ex. This may be a new job, more friends, flings, flirting, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;whatever. But this is only because they treat their previous relationship as a negative.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;See, the brain can process negatives only by converting it to a positive. Thats why. In the book the author asks you to think about a kangaroo and then he &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;tries to tell you several times to stop thinking about it. If you try it - you will not be able to stop thinking about it like that. The only way he makes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;you stop thinking about it is by asking you to think of a television - something else. So, the point is that a negative is processed only as a positive and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;the only way to forget your problems is to get into other ones.. uuhh.. I mean.. is to do other things in life that make your life full. :) If work is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;stressful.. write blogs.. yay.. lol..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Take inspiration from the brain. Turn negatives to positives!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-6845151995570613603?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/6845151995570613603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=6845151995570613603&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/6845151995570613603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/6845151995570613603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/09/getting-over-problems-nlp-way.html' title='Getting over problems - NLP way'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-2022028453332035979</id><published>2007-09-12T23:45:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T18:17:24.045-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Service on All Lines</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;So the London tube strike thing is going on and almost all the tube lines were down. Travel was slow and limited. The strike gets called off early, I go to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;work, get back and when Im still on my way back.. on one of the most crowded tube station's (Earls court), I see an electronic board that shows all the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;London underground tube lines and their service status. Never have I seen it like this. It showed good service against all tube lines!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Its never like that! Then I figured that may be the day's break is what gave the tube lines some recuperating time. And they are machines. We are just human. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I should have thought about it. The way life is treating me right now - Im doing uni work in the nights and some pretty damn long work days at work - not to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;mention the travelling. Sundays are the best working days for me - only because its the least crowded day to get to work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;This previous Friday I had to travel to uni - so I took the day off work - went to uni and though it was a short day, I dint go back to office. I took it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;easy. Did some work from home thingie on Saturday - but rather relaxed, and belive it or not, my days there after were so much more energetic. I feel like a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Kit-Kat now - you know - have a break - have a kit-kat...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-2022028453332035979?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/2022028453332035979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=2022028453332035979&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/2022028453332035979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/2022028453332035979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/09/good-service-on-all-lines.html' title='Good Service on All Lines'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-2164635158366545247</id><published>2007-09-01T11:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T05:34:10.076-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Disposal Razors!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;So Iv gotten over my long hair and stuff and now I wanna get a cool, short hair cut. The kinds I can walk out of bed in, and never have to make my hair. Just to keep up with my busy days. Plus something that looks cool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;So once when I got off at Bounds Green tube station in London, I saw this small spanish hair styling thingie. Ah, that reminded me of how once in New York.. in White Plains actually, my friend Alok and I stopped for a hair cut and (lucky for me), the hottest spanish chic I could imagine, came out to cut my hair! So now I had hope. There was nothing to stop me from going in and getting the cut that I so wanted. Ya, I went in just for the hair cut.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Or, so it turned out. One really old guy, and one rather sweet, but young, GUYYY. I figured, go with the younger dude, may be Ill get a bit more trendier cut. So I sit in the chair. As I look up, I see a board that said "We use disposable razor". Or so I thought.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Immidiately, I go into flash back. After I cut my long hair off at T&amp;G in London, I dint get a chance to visit my stylist Pavan in Bombay. Work just kept me busy. But I once stopped by this old place I used to go for a massage, many years ago, for a bit and got a trim. There I read a board. "We use disposal razors." That day I got a frikkin shock of my life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;But eventually, I looked around and realized that this was a small place. People barely spoke english. And the poster itself was a print out, laminated - a cheap one too. So I figured its okay. They just wanted to assure their customers that they are using disposABLE razors. But, well.. turns out they still have a lot of people coming to them despite the disposal razors !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anyway, so after the haircut, when I get home, I decide to try out a totally new look. And I called it... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- Part beard, Part weird.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-2164635158366545247?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/2164635158366545247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=2164635158366545247&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/2164635158366545247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/2164635158366545247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/09/disposal-razors.html' title='Disposal Razors!!'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-384831631935498765</id><published>2007-08-22T10:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T14:48:34.725-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Past Memories v/s Future Dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;There were times when I would sit and wonder why my mind doesn't stop. It thinks about tomorrow, day after, week after, month, year, decade later - mostly planning stuff. However, a lot of my time would go in dreaming - and that sometimes made me wonder if Im wasting my time.. or not.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;However, just yesterday while I was finishing my second read of Thomas Friedman's World is Flat, second edition, toward the end of the book I saw a wonderful explanation by him. He mentions that if a company sat and thought about its past.. basically focused on memories, rather than their dreams.. then they are in trouble. He argues further that, "in a flat world", countries do the same too..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Just then I realized, that, duh, individuals need to do the same too! I mean think about it, you spend all your day thinking about the good days, and how things were great back then - versus, thinking about the future, planning, dreaming and planning further! Sounds more exiciting to me. I dont think its a bad thing to think about memories. Sure, if you dont have any good memories, whats the point of the life you already lived? Sometimes the past can help you learn more towards avoiding mistakes or people, etc. However, if your focus is your memories, and not your dreams.. yeah.. I'd say you're in trouble.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Man, Im so happy, and kinda relieved after reading that part of the book!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-384831631935498765?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/384831631935498765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=384831631935498765&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/384831631935498765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/384831631935498765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/08/past-memories-vs-future-dreams.html' title='Past Memories v/s Future Dreams'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-1430951049996216093</id><published>2007-08-19T13:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T16:58:11.550-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick Leave</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;So its a regular work day.. chop chop chop, satay satay satay... Oops thats not me.. Thats Monica.. (from friends).. So ya.. its a regular work day.. spec spec spec.. check check check.. and my business partner comes in and he's like, "you got a cold.. and ur coughing.. you know if you have such days when ur not well.. you can just let me know, that ur not coming in.. ill take care of stuff... " .. Im thinking.. thats nice on his part.. and.. get back to work..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;A bit later i get up to get some coffee and Im thinking.. and I realize that Iv never taken a sick leave since Iv been here in the UK.. Then I look back and think.. Iv never taken a sick leave back in New York (at IBM) either.. Then I think further behind and I realize that ISU, my university or back in Bombay, here in London.. Iv never taken a single day sick leave while Iv been working ! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I was quite happy about that, more like proud.. but then felt like a fool too.. because you know, I could take the sick days off and go have fun, instead.. so I tell my mom this story.. and shes like.. serves you right... I'm like.. huh !??! ... Shes like.. while you were in school, you used to fake falling ill all the time... and she burst out laughing.. And Oh My God.. what memories came back to me.. !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;But I was a bit offended, coz I remember have won many certificates n awards in school.. so i look into at my suitcase of honour (ofcourse now its just a folder of scanned jpg files on my computer) and I realize that I had several Honorous Causa Certificates.. These were given to students who had a distinction in the avergae of the entire year and have had perfect attendance records.. So I have these certificates all the way from 4th grade (3rd grade I was down with jaundice for a bit).. until I graduate school and in between, in the 7th or 8th grade I have none.. So I call my mom again and ask her.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;She tells me that a year before the 9th &amp; 10 grades (when I got my black belt in Taekwondo, was a member of the student council, became troop leader of the school's scouts, etc).. I went through a phase of what my mom called, "mischief madness". Turns out, I did a lot of things to a lot of teachers, and got out of several important things with the best of the excuses in the world.. Mom said.. according to her thats when my mind started "running like the wind.." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Little does she know that I think almost around the clock and that I probably dont have a stop switch.. I have to get tired and fall asleep.. I cant remember now, but Im sure.. I was planning everything I did from the 8th through the 10th grades, while I was in the 7th! LoL!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-1430951049996216093?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/1430951049996216093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=1430951049996216093&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/1430951049996216093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/1430951049996216093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/08/sick-leave.html' title='Sick Leave'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-7149251049352717192</id><published>2007-08-05T22:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-23T17:21:09.888-04:00</updated><title type='text'>List of Fixed Things That Will Change</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;So its a regular day at work. Not slept enough the previous night, came in by ten.. My business partner (Marty) and I are coming up with software specs to hand over to my programmers back in India.. the regular day.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Now the situation is that the system that we were building was getting more and more complicated. On a very busy day, with a hectic schedule - a packed calendar and a very frustrated hour.. we were trying to come up with things that would not change all the time.. So I stopped and thought, that if the number of changing elements did not change arbitrarily (basically had no logical pattern of change), then it may be easier to handle the changing elements. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I told him that we need "a fixed set of things that will change". Marty laughed and said, "Can I quote you on that one". Then, pointing to a calendar that has a picture of George Bush, "He would say something like that". A moment later it cracked me up too. Just realized that once I get out of code, or out of a series of logical loops and an intense planning and thinking routine, I may be able to come up with more time to do creative stuff. There was an article somewhere that said that, we are so busy doing stuff, that we dont give ourselves enough time to be creative. I realized that was so true. We should put time aside to be creative - I'm sure that will help us in every walk of life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Later on in the day, I was thinking about fixed sets of things that will change, and also the very arbitrarily dynamic sets of things that one may come across in life. Things to which responses cannot be comprehended, in any way what so ever. And, there's no two guesses to what I stumbled upon. Im not going to spell it out, else people will call me sexist. I'm NOT. Just come across some very demanding, non-understanding women, and seen some of their traits in other women in general. Some say Artificial Intelligence will solve problems of men understanding women and vice versa. Firstly Im not sure whats intelligent about emotional responses, and trust me a lot of the drama I'v seen, is artificial for sure!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-7149251049352717192?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/7149251049352717192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=7149251049352717192&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/7149251049352717192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/7149251049352717192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/08/list-of-fixed-things-that-will-change.html' title='List of Fixed Things That Will Change'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-2339277796547054643</id><published>2007-07-15T22:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T17:08:11.411-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Firday the 13th ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;In April this year, I flew my usual Virgin Atlantic VS350 to London on the 13th. It was a Friday. I had heard tons of stories about how Froday the 13th was supposed to be a bad day and stuff like that.. But I dint care at that point.. Turns out.. I got upgraded to first class, with absolutely brilliant service and it became one of the best flights of my life ! This is due to an inspirational soul, who told me that Im good and good things will happen to me. This good soul promised me that Im not alone and if Im not a bad person, there's no need to worry about anything and I shouldn't believe in such stuff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I come back to Bombay in May, and by July Im ready to fly back to London. I tend to book last minute so have limited options normally. I get a ticket for the 13th. It is a Friday. Again. This time though, I'm really, really happy. Im jumping and trying to think of the possible great things that may happen to me. Turns out nothing happened. Not in a bad way. It was a rather regular flight and everything went very normal and smooth. Dint way at baggage. Days before it were good, days after it were good. No precievable side effects. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;When I landed and settled into work and stuff, I realized Jason was coming to London for a bit. And we exchanged flight information. He told me, "dude, froday the 13th? you know its a bad omen right?". That's when I realized that I did not. I had heard random stuff like devil's day, and general stuff like bad omen, bad luck, etc.. But I still dont know whats all the fuss about.. Anyhow, I should email Jas and ask him what he's heard about.. Anyone, any thoughts ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-2339277796547054643?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/2339277796547054643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=2339277796547054643&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/2339277796547054643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/2339277796547054643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/07/firday-13th.html' title='Firday the 13th ?'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-6365378164673741009</id><published>2007-07-05T23:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-23T17:24:58.869-04:00</updated><title type='text'>An afternoon at the ATM center</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So its a nice and pleasant day in Bombay.. Im waiting outside an ICICI atm centre.. and theres a really long queue.. I figured everyone needs money.. so I was gladly waiting.. but something was making me really nervous.. There was a lady up ahead in the line.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So ahead of me is this mid aged guy, then this relatively young, in her thirties lady, and then a bunch of guys ahead. I look up and a guy walks out. Roughly 2 mins later another guy walks out. And then another. Not one of them took more than 2 mins. Then this lady goes in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Its been a minuter. Now two. Ok, another one. And another. My anxiety is rising. Im not sure what happened. The mid aged guy ahead of me left. (I dont think its coz of the lady, but still, sounds like the guy got so tired waiting on the lady that he left!) Anyhow, almost 11 mins later, the lady walks out. I go inside and I look at the machine, and its not working!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Now, I dont know if this lady did something or what, but Im really pissed.. So I ask the guard.. and he tells me.. that there was a guy before the lady, who informed him that the machine had stopped responding. I was just dumb founded. For one, I give her credit for not ruining the machine, but on the other hand, she took eleven minutes in there, ON A NON FUNCTIONAL machine.. doing what, God alone knows.. where as the guy who actually ruined it, or figured that there was a problem with it took less than two...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I chat to the guard a bit and then walk out.. I get a call.. so I talk on the phone.. and eventually.. I walk to my car.. thats when I see the same frikkin lady's car parked in front of mine, and she was reversing.. Her car can easily get out of there.. but its totally slanting and Iv no idea how she got it in that position.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So I walk to my car and as Im stepping into it.. she pops her head out of the window and goes.. "How long are you going to take?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Wow. She takes 6 times the normal time in an ATM. I come to my car after another 15 mins and shes still trying to get her car out of a spot thats at the very least one and a half times her car - a very comfortable spot.. and shes actually telling me in less than 30 seconds, that Im taking long.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I figured no point fighting. So I turn on my machine, some music, move my car closer to hers, and make a nice long phone call :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-6365378164673741009?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/6365378164673741009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=6365378164673741009&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/6365378164673741009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/6365378164673741009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/06/afternoon-at-atm-center.html' title='An afternoon at the ATM center'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-3425555528730780250</id><published>2007-06-25T09:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T11:50:53.036-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Advanii Enterprises Pvt. Ltd.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So, I'm doing some outsourcing work for a great project. (Ya I'm using general terms because I obviously can't reveal much information due to Non disclosure agreements). Anyhow, so my tiny little Advanii Enterprises is just busy doing its own thing, when one day I decide to get a logo done, and get a website and go fancy ass :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So, What logo do I pick.. I couldn't come up with anything specific.. My dad with all his occult science knowledge (from his hobbies) and his be positive thing suggested that the logo should have its north and east directions open symbolizing growth potential. My sister, a budding fashion designer, who had come down from London at this time suggested combining a symbol of victory with something that the company does.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Now the company is a tech company so I wanted a symbol of the alphabet i.. To symbolize internet or you know the i-tech kinda feel. So my sister combines 'symbol of victory' with the i. The extra i in Advanii, which again has numerological background to it, and makes up a symbol for my company. And here it is..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TKxZan3b1s0/RtLysX8-KoI/AAAAAAAAAAk/eQs-34GP5K4/s1600-h/LOGO.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TKxZan3b1s0/RtLysX8-KoI/AAAAAAAAAAk/eQs-34GP5K4/s320/LOGO.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103408171922107010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-3425555528730780250?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/3425555528730780250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=3425555528730780250&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/3425555528730780250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/3425555528730780250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/06/advanii-enterprises-pvt-ltd.html' title='Advanii Enterprises Pvt. Ltd.'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TKxZan3b1s0/RtLysX8-KoI/AAAAAAAAAAk/eQs-34GP5K4/s72-c/LOGO.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-7993840786951684111</id><published>2007-06-15T21:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T11:32:07.651-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why does one give?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Weather it love, hatred, help or just a few good thoughts, why does one give to another? Is it because they want something back? Instead of rolling back and forth between if a selfless good deed exists or not, (like Pheobe does in Friends), I was trying to think why does one actually give something to another person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;One of the obvious things is that they want something back. The issue here is, is it right to expect something if you are giving something out? Every human being expects to get something in return for what they give. However, there are certain times when it is better to not expect anything in return.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Now, in most cases it is not possible to expect something. Expecting something is inbuilt in the nature of doing something for someone. A philosophy I learnt from a rather valuable friend, was - to expect the least. Basically that ways you minimize the trauma you face if you don’t get what you were expecting. On the other hand, getting more than you expect is always good, isn’t it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-7993840786951684111?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/7993840786951684111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=7993840786951684111&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/7993840786951684111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/7993840786951684111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/06/why-does-one-give.html' title='Why does one give?'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-2565245725700314375</id><published>2007-06-10T09:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T14:55:10.791-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Conditions Apply</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I have begun to hate adverts or hoardings or brochures that have a lovely tag line with a little * that says conditions apply. I mean how many more places are we gonna see that. Its not like conditions actually apply to what you are seeing. It just means, "haha, you'v NOOO idea whats coming your way..". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;What ticked me off to the point that I wanted to write this blog was a little incident. I was on the piccadilly line, underground tube (subway train) lines going to see a friend. This asian dude, korean would be my best guess, goes around distributing these pampflets. I take one and I look at it. Sure enough it was a big blue add, with an asterisk. Out of curiosity, without looking at anything else.. all I saw was the asterisk.. and my eyes followed it to the "fine print".. which had some really really fine print.. and at the end of the fine print were... TWO ASTERISKS !!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ah man, that pissed me off so much.. I looked back and forth and ripped the paper apart (which obviously was plastic coated to make things harder than ever for me, obviously) but I couldnt find the two asterisks anywhere.. Honestly.. I dont even remember what he was trying to sell.. but I felt like telling him to **. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;But this asterisk business is getting into some serious relationship stuff as well. I mean think about it, what are pre-nuptial agreements all about? And even worse, people are having relationships that are nothing but a whole set of conditions.. Is that love really ? I will be with you, if you do.. this this this this and that. O-k-a-yyyy.. Whatever.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mostly its women though, putting all these conditions when they get overly emotional / dramatic and irrational (which is most of the time) and men when they get really jealous for no good reason apparently.. which is also most of the time.. lol.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I guess my point is.. asterisks make me really angry.. I would never want a relationship with conditions and rules and all these threats to live by.. Lets live by dreams now :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-2565245725700314375?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/2565245725700314375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=2565245725700314375&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/2565245725700314375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/2565245725700314375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/06/conditions-apply.html' title='Conditions Apply'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-4671356405923336120</id><published>2007-05-30T10:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-03T14:16:20.279-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I have no clue!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It’s so odd that sometimes you know what you want to do in life, but you have no clue as to what is going on. I have heard people say “I have no clue”, about so many things in life. Sometimes it means I don’t know; Sometimes it means I don’t want to talk about it; Sometimes it means I’m not sure; And almost never does it mean that I have no clue about the whole thing.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;However issues don’t happen when people say these things, issues happen when people take the wrong meanings of “I have no clue”. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Recently I was witness to a few, rather interesting incidents of mistaken meanings of “I have no clue”. Almost like someone assuming the other person said I love you and getting all happy, just to realize that the other person said “I have no clue”. Lol. That would be really funny though. Lol.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anyhow, after seeing the few interesting incidents that I say, I have been trying to think of what is the safest to assume meaning of “I have no clue.” I figured that the simplest way to deal with such a situation, when someone tells you, “I have no clue”, is to assume that you, yourself have no clue of what the person is saying, and just start asking questions! That ways, the other person comes out with something or the other, and slowly you will start having some clue, and hopefully so will the other person!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-4671356405923336120?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/4671356405923336120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=4671356405923336120&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/4671356405923336120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/4671356405923336120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-have-no-clue.html' title='I have no clue!'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-4709412443120456650</id><published>2007-05-15T11:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T11:43:55.897-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Greener Grass On The Other Side</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Another busy day in the library.. well more like around the library.. coz we aren’t really up to working past the barriers after the previous experiences. It was past &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:time style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" hour="22" minute="0"&gt;10pm&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; and we were finishing up some work on an important presentation and report. We were all outside the library café, and before the barriers, next to the computers, in the comfy seating area.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I saw that some people, who had probably just finished their assignment, were opening up wine and stuff. Pretty soon we got Chinese take out food to have in the library as well, but it got me to think of the days back in the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;US&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; when we used to order pizza, right to our engineering labs and work late into the nights.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Just then I started to think about the difference in education patterns in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;India&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;, the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;US&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; and the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;UK&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;. Long back I used to think that the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;US&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; has four year degrees, the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;UK&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; has three year degrees and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;India&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; has both, so it follows like a dual education pattern. Soon I realized that the differences are tremendous.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;US&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;, more often than not has a practical approach. In some courses there is some level of writing skills, referencing, etc. involved, but largely depending on what you study, the courses are practical enough in their respective fields to be able to give you a good insight into things and a good time as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;UK&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; on the other hand is a bit crazy. They make you write. And write some more. They will ask you to write essays – no matter what course you take. Whether its accounting and finance which has nothing but numbers, or an engineering course or a management course, they will make you write. Yes, there are good things too, but one cannot deny the nature of the degrees in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;India&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; being a bit too.. umm.. unrealistic.. I guess.. I don’t have words for it…. YET.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The Indian system is a bit different. I used to curse it a lot in the beginning but now that I think about it I don’t think it’s that bad. They make you memorize everything in almost any course in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;India&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;. However, over the last decade or so many courses have had very realistic touches to them, the amount of memorizing has reduced and the amount of “understanding” needed has increased. All this, with a practical touch definitely makes the Indian education system good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Studying in the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;US&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; though, was one of the best experiences of my life. The &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;UK&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; has had its fun times too, and crazy moments too. Funny thing is that people in all the three countries like education patterns in at least one of the other two countries!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TKxZan3b1s0/RxYtdsy6shI/AAAAAAAAABA/nXbA7ZQT0WY/s1600-h/a005_open_air_class_me_n_artemis.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TKxZan3b1s0/RxYtdsy6shI/AAAAAAAAABA/nXbA7ZQT0WY/s320/a005_open_air_class_me_n_artemis.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122331614444696082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"  &gt;- Me &amp;amp; Artemis on a class day when we made the prof teach in the garden!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-4709412443120456650?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/4709412443120456650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=4709412443120456650&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/4709412443120456650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/4709412443120456650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/05/greener-grass-on-other-side.html' title='Greener Grass On The Other Side'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TKxZan3b1s0/RxYtdsy6shI/AAAAAAAAABA/nXbA7ZQT0WY/s72-c/a005_open_air_class_me_n_artemis.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-2375141867800242696</id><published>2007-05-13T23:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T11:52:50.904-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Library - Guest Entry</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A very busy day at the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:place style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;st1:placetype&gt;University&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;  of &lt;st1:placename&gt;Southampton&lt;/st1:placename&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;, led us into the library. Rahul and I have been here for almost a year now and never traveled so far into the depths of the library. A brilliant guy from our class who seems to be a permanent resident of the library saw us there and asked us, “You don’t come here often do you?”, we looked at him and thought, is it that obvious!!! What were we doing wrong?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anyhow, we told him that his was our first time and he found it really funny. I dint know what to say. Eventually, we found a spot in the really busy building, which is really, really huge by the way. We thought not many people would be going in there, but were rather surprised. Anyhow, when we found a spot, after looking around firstly, for the hot girls around, and secondly for empty seats, we realized that we were not able to access the university’s wireless network in the library. Just the two of us.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;We went back to our friend and asked him if he knew why. He said he did not and that his and everyone known, their networks were working great. We waited a few minutes and decided to get up and go. This was the time we got the worse looks ever. People saw us and went like, who the heck are these people. Apparently, it is expected that you come to the library in the morning and stay through the night! They looked at us like we were crazy. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Anyhow, we were so convinced that the library doesn’t want us that we decided to do a test. We tried the internet in the café shop, in the management building, in some other buildings, and even in the garden. Worked great. In the library after stepping in we have a library café and some comfy seating arrangements and some computers. After those are the barriers to pass which we must swipe our cards. Past the barriers are the book shelves and many discussion rooms, and stuff. And past all of that are the scary people. Now, here’s the interesting part. Our internet connections were working great, but the minute we passed the barriers it would just not respond! AND – Just for the two of us! It’s like they did not want us. Talk about discrimination.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Oh, and did I mention that when we were walking away from the weird looks of the people to get our of the scary zone, we were lost. In like a maze. It took us like a few whole minutes for us to find our way out!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TKxZan3b1s0/RxYvusy6sjI/AAAAAAAAABM/IH-nmJIdlo0/s1600-h/b004_me_ai_dorrie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TKxZan3b1s0/RxYvusy6sjI/AAAAAAAAABM/IH-nmJIdlo0/s320/b004_me_ai_dorrie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122334105525727794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- Me, Ai &amp;amp; Dorrie.. One of the few productive library days ;)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-2375141867800242696?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/2375141867800242696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=2375141867800242696&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/2375141867800242696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/2375141867800242696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/05/library-guest-entry.html' title='Library - Guest Entry'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TKxZan3b1s0/RxYvusy6sjI/AAAAAAAAABM/IH-nmJIdlo0/s72-c/b004_me_ai_dorrie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-7892908732587293798</id><published>2007-05-12T22:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-13T11:18:41.366-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Choices In Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;The other day while watching Harry Potter (can’t remember which of the 4 movies), Dumbledore said that, it’s not what we can do, it’s our choices in life that make us what we are. Hmmmm.. Now that’s something to think about – given the fact that today we live our lives our way – i.e. – making the choice of what we want and how we want it.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;If you decide to quit a well paying job in New York with a big company and move the lets say the UK, and work for a small start-up type company in say, London, with the hope that someday you will make it really big, and then you decide to move to India and start a business there, would you be making the right choice? It’s crazy to even think about life in ways that make you jump from one end of the world to another, but then again – it’s a choice we make. Just one thing we can never know – is a particular choice made by us, the right choice?&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Some say that the heart is on the left but it’s always right. The others say that decisions taken by the heart will be absolutely baseless and dependant on nothing concrete and hence take decisions only by thinking, analyzing and evaluation your options. Once again a choice to make – go with the heart or with the mind?&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;What if you meet someone or find something and you feel that your heart and mind both support it? Woha. That may not really happen that often, and that’s why I’m not gonna let it go!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-7892908732587293798?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/7892908732587293798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=7892908732587293798&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/7892908732587293798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/7892908732587293798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/05/choices-in-life.html' title='Choices In Life'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-4725869930072752912</id><published>2007-05-05T11:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-15T12:04:27.912-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My New Machine</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="trebuchet ms" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I always derived a unique kick from electronics. Weather it was an all functional personal assistant, or a new NAZ| storage device or even a very techie looking watch.  It had been a while since I got myself a new toy - A new gadget that would keep me cheerful and my life happy. One day after work, when I got home I realized that the laptop I was using was a work machine and that my personal laptop had crashed a few weeks ago (was an old one by now). That’s it. I could get myself a new laptop and justify the cost to myself.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;o:p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I bought a dual core 2ghz Centrino processor, with 2gig of RAM @866 mhz, 4MB L2 cache, 120 gig 7200rpm harddrive, integrated hi res webcam, cd/dvd burner, SD card and flash memory reader, wi-fi, Bluetooth support, all the other standard stuff, on a 12 inch screen, really light machine with a 9-cell lithium-ion battery to last me my long journeys. Ah, it feels good just talking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Now I spend most of my time on my new machine. Hopefully this means Ill get more work done or at the very least get the stuff I wanted to get done, online!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TKxZan3b1s0/RknYht7Fk5I/AAAAAAAAAAc/XAlsaH97Lfk/s1600-h/dell.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TKxZan3b1s0/RknYht7Fk5I/AAAAAAAAAAc/XAlsaH97Lfk/s320/dell.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064817329729541010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- A sample image of the machine, but mine is Oh So Much Better ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-4725869930072752912?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/4725869930072752912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=4725869930072752912&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/4725869930072752912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/4725869930072752912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/05/my-new-machine.html' title='My New Machine'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TKxZan3b1s0/RknYht7Fk5I/AAAAAAAAAAc/XAlsaH97Lfk/s72-c/dell.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-1259701196469884816</id><published>2007-03-19T23:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T09:19:09.284-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What is Confidence?</title><content type='html'>&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Let’s assume that you are really confident. You are very cool, and the center of attraction of any group that you associate with. Now, what if something changes in your life and it takes away this confidence? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;In addition to that, what if the one soul you depended on, did the one thing you did not expect from them. Well, then, nothing happens – quite literally.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Nothing at all happens. Life moves on. No one can do anything. Some people sulk and get depressed about it, but – NOTHING happens. Bottom line is that, “Fortune favors the prepared mind”.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Be prepared for situations in life and things wont bother you at all. If things happen exactly opposite of the way you expect them to – well too bad; you should have been prepared!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Sounds very practical and logical, and straight forward – but what’s the opposite of all these things – women! Logic and the sense of the senses do not work with them. Hence our only option, as males, is to give in. Give in to the way things are happening. Once again, what if one gives in once, then is taken for granted and has to give in again, and this goes on forever. And then one day, something a hundred times worse happens to you – and you are being blamed for it. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;As Rocky Balboa says, “It’s not how hard you can hit; It is how hard a hit you can take and keep going.”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So, one takes as much as they can; and beyond. But then what if you get nothing back and the point of the entire effort fails?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Well then again, you should have been prepared!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TKxZan3b1s0/RidsHX4daLI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SLOHJ7LgK7M/s1600-h/me_maulin_rishma_neil_aarti.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TKxZan3b1s0/RidsHX4daLI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SLOHJ7LgK7M/s320/me_maulin_rishma_neil_aarti.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055127980672379058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- At Zar Bar In Bombay.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-1259701196469884816?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/1259701196469884816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=1259701196469884816&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/1259701196469884816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/1259701196469884816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/03/what-is-confidence.html' title='What is Confidence?'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TKxZan3b1s0/RidsHX4daLI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SLOHJ7LgK7M/s72-c/me_maulin_rishma_neil_aarti.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-3765783451539211240</id><published>2007-02-10T13:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T08:18:39.847-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You people come to our country...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A friend and I are at street junction, about to cross the road. She has a coffee cup in her hand that she has just finished. There is a bin about 2 feet away that has no plastic in it. Some people had left some cups and papers, on the pavement around the bin. So, she leaves her cup there too, and we begin to cross the road. Right next to her a white guy speaks up. Why don’t you put that in the bin? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;        &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Everyone can see the situation yet this guy has an issue. Anyhow, my friend says, you do it if you want to. He gets pissed off, and says, “you people” , come to our country and mess it up, blah, blah. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It pisses us off so bad! Well looks like mister white boy forgot that, “YOU PEOPLE”, came to our country first! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;You know how, after the bomb blasts in &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;London&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;, there are no trash bins anywhere on the train stations and stuff. Why the heck don’t they put, transparent plastic bag trash bins, really thin and small ones, next to the guards’ offices? &lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Anyhow, like Russel Peters says, when the English left,&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;some people went, “No no, you cant come to our country and leave, just like that.. take away all our bloody recipes.. macaroni and tandoori cheese.. When they left, some Indians went, No, No, we’re coming with you.. ” … lol … &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_TKxZan3b1s0/Riddan4daKI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ah8a_JzAxjw/s1600-h/a001_SCREW_THE_WORLD_me_n_rahul_01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_TKxZan3b1s0/Riddan4daKI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ah8a_JzAxjw/s320/a001_SCREW_THE_WORLD_me_n_rahul_01.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055111818710444194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- Me And Rahul.. Best Buddies In Soton.. Screw The World.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-3765783451539211240?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/3765783451539211240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=3765783451539211240&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/3765783451539211240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/3765783451539211240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2007/04/you-people-come-to-our-country.html' title='You people come to our country...'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_TKxZan3b1s0/Riddan4daKI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ah8a_JzAxjw/s72-c/a001_SCREW_THE_WORLD_me_n_rahul_01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-115547834485579347</id><published>2006-08-13T15:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-13T10:19:25.010-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dont Give Excuses..</title><content type='html'>You know, I hear that line a lot ? Its like, everytime Im trying to loose weight.. not that I need to loose too much weight.. just a lill bit.. but then.. everytime I attempt whole heartedly to loose weight, something or the other comes up, thats not in my hand and it doesn't work out.. Ofcourse people dont believe me and say, Im giving excuses!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its the truth though. Either Ill be a little sad, and will sit and hog on pizza and ice-cream, or Ill just not be able to go for a workout, or something or the other will definitely happen to prevent me from loosing weight. Here's something that will probably throw some light on my plight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, last week, I had two of my best friend's birthdays and obviously I couldn't not eat. So, there was a lot of fat consumption. And, everyday, I'd either get late from work or something or the other would happen, and I'd not be able to work out. After that, one of my best friend decides to go all rude on me, like a lot. Toh I obviously decide to cut out. When I do that, I realize that though the person deserved it, I wish I had the company. But I say, forget it. Its upto the person to understand where what boundaries are, and that you can't just insult someone over and over again - Specially if I'm being understanding, you can't really blow up for every small thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, so obviously, I sit and don't feel like going out much, and I sit and eat. What else? Then I realize that enough is enough. I don't wanna waste any time on stupid crap, and instead focus on loosing some weight. The last entry to my gym on a Sunday is 3pm. So I get up realy early.. 7am.. and decide to go.. its kinda too early.. so I wake up again at 11.. and as Im about to get ready, loads of things happen, I hurt my self, I get phone calls from home, some work related ideas pop into my head. I cut through everything, don't give a damn about anything, and finally get ready. My gym bag isn't there now. Just can't find it. So, I said, never mind, Im not giving up. I put my gym stuff in a plastic papa-johns pizza bag and took off on my way for gym.. oh so proudly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its raining, a little, but where I'v fought so much, whats a little rain ? I stop by to check the time with someone, just incase I'm too late. Its only 2.15pm. Im so happy. I then realize I don't have my i-pod, because without my kinda music, I tend to workout lesser. I said, never mind, its a start, Im gonna do it. I reach the gym, and theres a notice there. "We deeply regret to inform all our customers that our gym will be closed for renovation and major upgradation from the 12th of August to the end of September. We realize that since this affects your membership status, you will get the time extended on your membership. Once again we apologize for the inconvenience caused."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inconvenience? What the ****. What's a guy to do. I came back home. After that what I did is just even more depressing, so I'm going to leave it out. But cmon.. What am I to do ? How am I making excuses ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/56/6114/640/DSCN3945.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/56/6114/320/DSCN3945.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Long hair isn't looking bad at all !! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A lill weight loss and a lill longer hair, not asking too much, am I ?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-115547834485579347?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/115547834485579347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=115547834485579347&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/115547834485579347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/115547834485579347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2006/08/dont-give-excuses.html' title='Dont Give Excuses..'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-115542516325970448</id><published>2006-08-13T00:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-12T19:47:59.926-04:00</updated><title type='text'>No Crap</title><content type='html'>I so wanted to start by saying, hey Im back to blogging, but seriously - no crap. I hope I continue to blog. The reason, Im here today, is the fact that I had nothing to do. Not that I had nothing at all possibly to do, but nothing of the very, very few options that I have, there wasnt really anything that I wanted to do. So I decided to write down whatever thoughts I had in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My neighbours were fighting today - a couple; and I could clearly hear all the arguments. I was alone, with no intentions of doing anything all day, sitting at my desk with my computer, and I couldn't help but hear the entire conversation. Not that I will reveal it here, but, the things that happened... unbelivable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I realized was that, at one point, the guy found himself alone. Im not saying, the fight / argument was the girl's fault or the guy's. Just the fact that at the end of everything, this dude is like totally lonely, he takes off for the riverside all alone, and I can see him down from my window, with a cigarette in his hand. He isn't a smoker really. Or may be I should say not yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May be hes just too weak to start smoking or get into a habit, because of a fight or something. But then I thought to myself, how much is anyone there for anyone else. A friend may be there for a short distance, a spouse for a longer distance.. parents may be a little further.. but then.. how far ? Won't it be nice to not be bound in anyway to another person. Not that we ignore our responsibilities or duties to other people, friends, family, etc. but then, if we are bound to them in ways other than necessary, we are just preparing ourselves for further disruption, aren't we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/56/6114/640/08082006(004).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/56/6114/320/08082006%28004%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Ah, the hair has grown, doesnt look tht bad, does it ? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;     Well, lets wait a few months and see !!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-115542516325970448?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/115542516325970448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=115542516325970448&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/115542516325970448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/115542516325970448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2006/08/no-crap.html' title='No Crap'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-114055620332133849</id><published>2006-02-05T10:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-21T16:50:33.590-05:00</updated><title type='text'>They did not do their job...</title><content type='html'>So, Im in Bombay.. meeting up with friends.. taking short/long drives.. hanging out.. eating the zillions of types of foods.. juz living Bombay.. Its going all good.. However.. one fine day.. we decided to go from a bowling place to a New York style restaurant about 3 hours away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well not really 3 hours, but its was during the peak hours so... otherwise it was like 30 mins away.. or so.. anyhow.. my friend.. is driving.. a signal turns red.. she slows down and finally stops.. She gets a call.. now shes gotten a new PDA style phone.. so shes trying to figure something out and is still working on the phone... In the meanwhile the signal is green and we gotta move.. but obviously shes doing something important so we are just right there..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy behind us.. pissed off.. squeezes himself from behind her car.. passes her by and tells her.. its green madam.. moveee !! and she looks outta the window and scolds him instead... and the poor guy drives away....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like you guys, I was wondering whats happening.. well... apparently.. it was all his fault... because he did not hornk when the signal was green.. so she wouldn't know that she has to move!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did I say ??? - Fair Point....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/56/6114/640/DSCN1854.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/56/6114/320/DSCN1854.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;Us catching up.. A lovely "Relish" dinner.. ah my pink strawberry... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-114055620332133849?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/114055620332133849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=114055620332133849&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/114055620332133849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/114055620332133849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2006/02/they-did-not-do-their-job.html' title='They did not do their job...'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-114055626158240416</id><published>2006-01-28T04:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-21T16:35:46.546-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It happens only in Bombay</title><content type='html'>Once again Im back after a big break from a regular series of blogging - Sorry about that guys.. I travelled for a bit and then landed in my home town of Bombay. Ah, the great city.  Well, like most big cities one problem that Bombay has is definitely that of traffic and jams. Many of my non Indian friends can just not believe any tales that I tell them about Bombay and this is nothing but funny, because some of them are so commonplace here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A recent incident that I heard of just cracked me up. College hours, you can obviously not find any parking spots - well like any other hour, just worse. So one of my friend drove and drove and drove around, but found no spot to park for an hour almost. Finally she was exhausted and was about to give up when she saw an open spot! She had to wait and think about it, but because she was so frustrated she decided to just park in there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ya sounds allright, but here is the funny part - the "parking spot" was outside the traffic police station, right under the no parking sign and behind the towing van !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And guess what - Nothing happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean someone did comment that one day you will return and will find a small hook connecting your car to the van in front of it, but that was about it. Oh ya, not to forget, once a cop saw her park and walk away so he called her, and she said Im really sorry, theres nothing around, ill juz be back in two hours, Im getting late for college, pleaseeee !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what do I say ..... I guess, advantages of being a woman.. in addition to the wonders of Bombay .....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/56/6114/640/DSCN1874.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/56/6114/320/DSCN1874.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;Ah.. a sweetheart's kiss! While stuck in traffic ofcourse! lol!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-114055626158240416?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/114055626158240416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=114055626158240416&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/114055626158240416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/114055626158240416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2006/01/it-happens-only-in-bombay.html' title='It happens only in Bombay'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-113087873111529417</id><published>2005-11-01T16:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-06T02:38:23.986-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Choice: Red Pill or Blue Pill?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This one time, I was talking about the Matrix to one of the guys and we just discussed how some women just don't understand the Matrix, and probably never will. I mean c'mon, how can you describe THE Matrix as a fight between the good guys and the bad guys! Or, or, the blue pill would have taken him to heaven, but the red pill screwed him over. What?!?! C'mon now !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; Anyhow, I guess I got carried away talkin about women. Again. But, the point is that, how do you choose what pill to take, the red or the blue? I want to know what to do? There is this desicion that I want to make, and I have made my desicion, but I'm not able to decide weather to continue what I decided or to alter my desicion, since right now I am at a point where I have a CHOICE, to be able to change my desicion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this desicion problem thing comes not only with women, where if you do what she wants you are a wuss and if you don't... ha ha ha... This is real life man.. Like this one guy I know.. how does he decide if he moves to a different country alltogether, coz the love of his life is there, or else he stays where he is and give more importance to his career, coz where he is, his career sure damn is good. I moved to another country, I know what it means doing all that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you pick, weather to do your masters or to get into a job, or may be do an MBA instead ? Or go back to India and start something small there ?? Oh God, help. And on top of all this, which colour/dress/shoe to pick if a girl asks you, is this better or is that? Should I do this or should I do that? I mean, if its you.. thats all okay... but if you tell her this one, and God forbid it was that one, then.... Oonhh Mynn Gaaaad....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/56/6114/640/x005_me_n_yesu.aka.prince.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/56/6114/320/x005_me_n_yesu.aka.prince.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;- Me &amp; Yesu.. @ Blessie's Halloween Party.. &amp;amp; ya.. Happy Bday Blessie !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-113087873111529417?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/113087873111529417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=113087873111529417&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/113087873111529417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/113087873111529417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/11/choice-red-pill-or-blue-pill.html' title='Choice: Red Pill or Blue Pill?'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-113021104431611370</id><published>2005-10-24T05:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-30T01:03:05.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gekx-perience - the ultimate geek experience.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span align="justify"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So Im workin on my laptop one fine day and I see the light on the power indicator go into the battery mode, then to the adaptor mode and it keep switching every few seconds. Obviously I get pissed off and hold the power thingie tighter against my laptop socket and its on proper power. This situation gets worse by the day and eventually everyday I have to find a position in which the thing will remain connected and hold it there. I move a lill bit and there I loose like a half damn hour....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I thought may be the wire is twitched or something and what I need is a new adaptor and stuff. So I get onto ebay and buy one. Same problem; 50 bucks gone. So Im using the new one and I leave the machine on and take off for classes and everything. I think two or three days later I needed to remove the adaptor and use it on the battery for a while.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Now some geeks reading this may know that AMD's get much hotter than Intel processors - And I have an AMD processor. What happened was that the new adaptor, apparently of not that great quality; the metal on it kinda melts or something and it fuses into my laptop power socket. OMG, I was so pissed off. Being really busy that I was, I never bothered to get it repaired or anything. Let it go on as it was going.... Until... One day.... The adaptor died....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now theres no way to use my laptop. I turn it on, and start backing up my important stuff. As luck has it with me, always, the battery died before I could get anything, which killed the connection and for some reason everything that was being cached on the server too was lost. So I saved nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, Im running store to store, trying to see if anything can be done. Most people said nothing, except sending it back to the company, and in either case it would probably cost me like 400 to 800 bucks. There's no way I was spending that much, so I let it pass. One day after a crazy party night, I sat to work with it.. may be still a lill buzzed from the previous night.. or what I don't know.. but I decided to open it and see..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figured, Iv assembled countless machines, I can do it. I start off by borrowing the smallest of the tookits I could find, and collected everything sat in an empty room with beige carpet, so I can see the silver or black screws and started to work on it. Several, several hours later, I got it done. Im not going to sit and write about what exactly happened. But Oh My God, it was so amazing. So satisfying. The feeling I got, just drove me crazyeeeeee..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like Monica says in Friends, when she sees a really organized and clean lady; one of Pheobe's friend who they are visiting for adoption advice; that seeing her organization skills and stuff, she almost had a tiny orgasm. OMG, I felt sooo like that.. much more actually.. Amm... one sec.. not the orgasm part.. I mean I felt really satisfied.. like.. a lot more.. I mean... Ok.. I hope get the picture... I mean I hope u get the right picture...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/56/6114/640/x001_me_dhawal_yesu.aka.prince_joe_jarves.jpg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/56/6114/320/x001_me_dhawal_yesu.aka.prince_joe_jarves.jpg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- Some more halloween pix.. My last sem @ ISU.. Gonna miss these days... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-113021104431611370?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/113021104431611370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=113021104431611370&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/113021104431611370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/113021104431611370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/10/gekx-perience-ultimate-geek-experience.html' title='Gekx-perience - the ultimate geek experience.'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-113038422239350411</id><published>2005-10-19T22:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-30T01:01:27.263-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Whats Technical About English ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I never really understood why so many people had to spend time studying a language. I always thought that all you need to study should be enough to be able to read, write or communicate in it. I did figure out some reasons for people to study a little more in english and stuff, but what really irritates me is how do people spend their lives studying such stuff. I definitely thing, engineering, medicine, and stuff like that is something substantial to study. You can spend your life doing it. Something that you can actually USE... well... for useful purposes...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anyhow, for some damn reason we are made to take a technical english class. A "Technical"-English class ? What the heck. Cmon. I thought, okay.. may be there is something about such classes, you know? But I was wrong. And I gladly admit it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There really is nothing technical about english. Unless describe a toilet seat is technical? Or perhaps, playing with TINKER TOYS is ?!!!! I mean CMONNN, I was like the only graduating senior on campus with a huge can of Tinker Toys! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;We are made to do the most ridiculous things in that class. It absolutely doesn't make sense, and my professor, she won't let me skip one extra class... just one extra class.. that too because I want to travel for interviews.. I mean c'mon.. I am so pissed off right now.. that.. I have no words to describe how pissed off I am...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/56/6114/640/x003_me_jane_linnie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/56/6114/320/x003_me_jane_linnie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" &gt;- What posers we are ! Lol ! Halloween Party Pix...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-113038422239350411?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/113038422239350411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=113038422239350411&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/113038422239350411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/113038422239350411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/10/whats-technical-about-english.html' title='Whats Technical About English ?'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112913759157989664</id><published>2005-10-12T17:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-20T03:59:39.920-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Humor for computer geeks!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So what if you are a computer geek. You can have a sense of humor too. As you walk into a computer engineering building you see a notice, No smoking outside this door.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ah, ah, ah, now... Don't be mean... Geeks have their jokes too.. Try to get the joke here.. Its like, you are already outside the door.. seee seee.. you are already outside the door and you are not supposed to smoke outside the door... so.. you are not supposed to smoke, on the outside of the outside... seee seee ... essentially.. you are not supposed to smoke inside the building.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Thats something man. I mean, that, right there IS something.. Its a geeks humor.. something that gives him a smile on his face after several dozen hours of glaring at a screen or coding a mini circiuit board. No no, I mean a really mini board.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, any geeks out there who want another small programmer thingie... here is a programmer's prayer, from jokesaround :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our program,&lt;br /&gt;Who art in memory,&lt;br /&gt;"Hello" be thy name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thy spreadsheets be formatted,&lt;br /&gt;thy code be downloaded,&lt;br /&gt;from disk&lt;br /&gt;as it will be in memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give us on screen&lt;br /&gt;our data spreads,&lt;br /&gt;and forgive us our typos,&lt;br /&gt;as we forgive those who ask that we document.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lead us not into frustration,&lt;br /&gt;but deliver us from glitches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For thine is the algorithm,&lt;br /&gt;the application,&lt;br /&gt;and the solution,&lt;br /&gt;looping forever and ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/p020_Me_%40_Camden_market_bridge_01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/p020_Me_%40_Camden_market_bridge_01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;- Dunno Y This Pic For A Geeky Article...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;!--jokes --&gt;   &lt;form action="http://www.jokesaround.com/cgi-bin/rate.cgi" method="post"&gt;&lt;/form&gt;    &lt;table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="0" width="100%"&gt; &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt; &lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112913759157989664?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112913759157989664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112913759157989664&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112913759157989664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112913759157989664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/10/humor-for-computer-geeks.html' title='Humor for computer geeks!'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112905847413760372</id><published>2005-10-11T15:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-13T03:35:18.826-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Isn't that enough ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Trying too hard. Ever heard of that? What really is the tradeoff between, try try till you succeed and trying too hard ? I just can not believe that things happen like this sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you do when people just don't seem to get it ? I mean you are telling someone that listen this is what I mean, as clear as possible, and they get the exact opposite meaning. What do you do when you are trying really really hard in a class or to get a job or something, and apparently your own efforts are blocking your way to success ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know whats worse ?&lt;br /&gt;When you tell someone, something. They get the opposite meaning. AND, you know you can't blame them, AND, then you feel bad about the whole thing, and hey not to mention that there really is no reason for all of this. ( No reason for the whole thing, thats what hurts, you know what I mean ? )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know my advise guys... Just say sorry dude... and shut up.. See.. Here shut up is really important.. because if you do not shut up then you are gonna get screwed over.. you see... after you shut up, its her turn to yell scream at you, kill you, whatever. Thats just the way these things work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And no Jon, saying sorry isn't just one of the ways with women. It is THE only way. Good Luck buddy.... on the project, I mean....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/hiking_me_ann_others_getting_ther.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/hiking_me_ann_others_getting_ther.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;- Just getting there.. One of the summer hiking pics.. Bear Mountain Pk..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112905847413760372?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112905847413760372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112905847413760372&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112905847413760372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112905847413760372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/10/isnt-that-enough.html' title='Isn&apos;t that enough ?'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112892173167602893</id><published>2005-10-09T02:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-13T03:21:46.030-04:00</updated><title type='text'>OMG Parik, You Turned Into A Woman!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;What can be a lill more irritating than a normal woman ?&lt;br /&gt;Hmm...  A woman-computer-engineer !!!&lt;br /&gt;Ok, now I don't mean like really irritating or something.. I mean... well.... ammmm... Anyhow, so we are at this birthday party, where we don't know anyone. Some stupid girl is really irritating us. Gets really drunk and is trying to make us, "mix" with the crowd. We were just pissed at her. I mean, we generally are totally party kinds, but with this woman, Oh my God, she was driving us crazy. I mean she's like, you look familiar, what do you do ? Im like, Computer Engineering, shes like, haha, another nerd, we are all nerds here, or something of that sort, and I was like.... well.... WHATEVER.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Finally I and Yesu, along with Dhawal, Joe, Jarves and others hit the bars and Yesu is pretty gone by now. He gets us some beer. Now I'm not a beer person at all, I generally prefer harder drinks and shots. But, anyhow, so we are standing is sort of a circle, I'm on Yesu's right hand side. I wait for a while, and finally I take off to go keep my drink somwhere. But just as I move away, a girl comes in my place, and immidiately thereafter Yesu turns and looks at her, and he totally freaks out; OMG Parik, You Turned Into A Woman!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Lol, Not to mention that when this other girl came upto him, at the party like really drunk, he calls her a bitch and drives her away, she comes back again at the bars and hes like, "There's the bitch again!"... oh ya.. and he.. well.. almost.. picked a fight with this huge guy, coz he was wearing a Univ of Iowa shirt when he is at a bar in Iowa State Univ and they have just lost the game. Aah, aah, one of the several things we do. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I wonder, what kinda crap I do when I get too drunk. LoL. Now that I graduate this semester, I sure am gonna miss these days! Ah, well.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/PICT0388.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/PICT0388.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- Me &amp;amp; Yesu, one of the nights.. at Element..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112892173167602893?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112892173167602893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112892173167602893&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112892173167602893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112892173167602893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/10/omg-parik-you-turned-into-woman.html' title='OMG Parik, You Turned Into A Woman!'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112892183570082503</id><published>2005-10-07T10:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-10T02:31:05.903-04:00</updated><title type='text'>We Don't Do Our Research In The Mirror!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So, we are at this mall in des moines and we were checking out this new amazing digital photo frame. Most certainly I wanna buy it. Nice music and stuff too. Soon, me and Yesu are busy discussing the Specifications on certain cameras, PDAs, etc.. Just then we see the girls shop for some stuff and are checking out other stuff.. which obviously we find ridiculous.. I mean we landed up in a store.. which had like millions of purses.. we were on the steps coming down.. and as far as our eyes could seee we saw that.. there were only purses.. of all the weirdest shapes and sizes and fur and different materials, and most importantly different name tags, and these were spread for as far as possilble..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;We just started wondering.. why the heck are these here, this way ? I mean, the specs on all of them are the same. They do the same thing. Provide the same functionality. We just couldn't seem to understand the idea of paying a bomb on such stuff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's like we were still thinking about spending 150$ on this digital frame thing. We decided to research stuff online, the battery life, the compatibility, the warranty, the ports on it and the itnerface and measure its worth, check out the CNET reviews and stuff, and then we would go for it. On the other hand, the ladies stare in the mirror, talkin something, some weird stuff amongst themselves, oh yeah, they giggle like really loud, and swoossh, the card is swipped and some really high ridiculous amount is gone... on... well... nothing.. I mean its something which they have 100's of, I mean all of them do the same thing, no new features, no additional stuff, nothing.. Oh ya, not to mention.. most of them aren't even used.. And.. if they aren't purses.. (i.e. they are shoes... and they are really expensive... no no.. i mean.. REALLY expensive.. then they hurt).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anyhow, let me get over this thing, well.... let me try to get over this thing... while you guys reading this, gotta tell me what to do.. No no nooo.. not about purses or shoes... about my Goatee.. Some people feel I should remove it.. some love it.. Im just confused.. was considering a different look for a while.. so you guys gotta gimme a nice suggestion, each.. as a comment response to this blog... and do mention your name !!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/DSCN1477.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/DSCN1477.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;- I'v a smiling version of this pic too, but I guess the focus is on me goatee..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112892183570082503?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112892183570082503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112892183570082503&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112892183570082503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112892183570082503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/10/we-dont-do-our-research-in-mirror.html' title='We Don&apos;t Do Our Research In The Mirror!'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112892159901209078</id><published>2005-10-06T22:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-10T01:38:29.220-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why does it have to happen to me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm back guys. Sorry I haven't written in a long time. But WOW, I got so many requests to start writing again and more so, so many enquiries as to why have I stopped writing that, I just dint know what to do. Im so happy my friends read what I write !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, basically, this entry will be mostly about my come back. After my London trip, I got really busy, doing the regular stuff, then attending classes.. yeah.. this time I am attending and studying real hard tooo.. Iv promised someone that I will be trying to get a good grade. It may not be the one that was demanded but I did commit to try real hard. Plus then, doing a job search, and all the other stuff, just had no time to come on or chat or write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time I have MS level courses, and even one of the hardest classes ever. It is an Algorithms class for which no one ever gets a good grade, and apparently the text hasnt been changed in years and years, and the edition too has remained the same since like the past two decades. No one knows crap, and its really weird and confusions, but even worse, its too abstract and barely has any practicality, in the sense that we don't really learn to apply anything. And you know, engineers aren't used to that kinda stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Im studying real hard, have an A in every single class that I'm taking, and this course, the weird one, I wanted an A too, so decided to study kick ass for it. Was totally into my books and stuff for 5 straight days, did like the last 12 semesters' exams, and was totally determined to get a perfect score.. well I hoped if I aimed high.. I'd atleast get a decent score.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Generally this course starts out with an absolute grading scale of 90% being an A but by mid semester it goes down to 24% being the average, so then everything is scaled down. Also, more than half the people drop the class way before the mid term. The professors for the last several years always give you 20 bonus points to solve in each exam, just so they can push up the average. They also give you over 2 hours to solve an exam meant for 50 minutes. In short, its a crazy ass class, but guess what...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite the studies and stuff, I get a D !!! Hahahaa.. And I cant even drop this class... Why ??&lt;br /&gt;Coz he decides to change the pattern, the exam, everything, and he even added a chapter for 20% of the syllabus, which he taught the day before the exam !! And guess what I was doing ? Sloggin my ass out in the library. Why me God, Why me ???????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/DSCN1490.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/DSCN1490.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Me in my closet.. in my new club wear shirt...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112892159901209078?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112892159901209078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112892159901209078&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112892159901209078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112892159901209078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/10/why-does-it-have-to-happen-to-me.html' title='Why does it have to happen to me?'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112551799863867083</id><published>2005-08-17T23:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-10T02:11:14.016-04:00</updated><title type='text'>While you are with me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;What would you say, if people said that, hey my friend is so hot that even the cookie man likes him? I guess its okay if you are a girl. But if you are a guy and a cookie man likes you.... Not good man.... Me and some of my friends were at this place called crockdero, an entertainment arcade kinda place, near Picadilly and in there we passed a milles cookie shop...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Nothing unusual, but we were kinda lost there and needed to find some directions. So I go up to the shop guy and ask for directions to some casino type of a place. This dude comes out, all swingy swongy and you know the wrists attached loosely to his hands types... and.. is like, Hi.. I'm like.. Hi.. could you tell me how may I get to blah blah.. and he's like giving me all the directions and stuff but I'm like totally feeling weird there !! And I just did not know what to do ! Suddenly he is done telling me directions and then steps forward, sorta pushes his waist out and swings forth and asks me... Is there anything I can do for you, while you are With Me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WTF ! I was like.. while I am with him.. Im like No thanks, and I ran for my life.. well.. I ran to save me ass... Quite literally... I mean....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, we roamed around.. and a lill later the girls felt like cookies !! And you know women right !!! They drag me to that shop and once again I had to face that guy. This time we ordered the cookies and none of us had any change.. this guy.. was like.. thats allright you dont have to pay for it.. and he gives me back my 20 pound note in my hand but like holds my hand with his hands and places it in between in such a weird way, like eeewwwwwww... Once again I ran.. to save me.. everything...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then, Im being teased with weird people, and.. apparently it is very amusing, that the cookie man likes me.. Whatever !! I mean cmon.. why do my friends have to step forward, swish and swosh and ask me, Is there anything that I can do for you, WHILE YOU ARE WITH ME..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what.. when these girls say it.. I really feel like telling them... ;) ;) Yea yea.. theres a lot you can do for me ;) hehehe ;) Muah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/p005_Me_at_zizis_01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/p005_Me_at_zizis_01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;- Me at Zizi's In London... Pretty Classy Place.. Nice Food, Nice Wines !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112551799863867083?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112551799863867083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112551799863867083&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112551799863867083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112551799863867083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/08/while-you-are-with-me.html' title='While you are with me...'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112488739476149341</id><published>2005-08-14T02:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-31T15:34:58.386-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Have some water, Cheers !</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So my trip is going great, and Im having fun. I am at a bowling alley. Kinda thirsty, so I go to the other end where these people are selling some stuff and I ask for a bottle of water. She hands it over to me and goes.. Cheers !!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I was like.. damnnn... I know that this is a drunk country and that people drink a lot more here than, elsewhere. Also, the drinking age is 18 and not 21 like in India or the US. So I'm thinking... damn it... God knows whats there in this water.. Looks ike regular Evian water.. but.. You never know.. with this country.. May be alcoholic version ? May be something else ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eventually I figured out, that just like we say, thanks or welcome, or thanks man, or allright bud, or something of that sort, the people here say cheers. You buy tickets at a theatre and say thanks, he says cheers. You show your pass to the bus driver while getting on, you say cheers.. well.. if you dont.. doesnt matter... he will... :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/Me_playin_pool_with_me_new_Pool_gloves_at_megabowl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/Me_playin_pool_with_me_new_Pool_gloves_at_megabowl.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Me playin pool at the same bowling alley.. uuhhmm.. Cheerss !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112488739476149341?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112488739476149341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112488739476149341&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112488739476149341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112488739476149341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/08/have-some-water-cheers.html' title='Have some water, Cheers !'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112419513040847161</id><published>2005-08-13T23:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-31T15:56:25.593-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Blah-dee Other Side - London</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Im gonna use my technique for teaching gora people hindi, to start off my new entry. Say O.. as in seven O clock.. Yep.. Now, have you heard of Aishwarya Rai ? Bet you have. So, take the rai from there.. Now combine the two... O-Rai... Say it at once.. Faster... Ahhh... See... There you are... What you are saying is... Allright.... Thats the English people... speaking........ aaammmmmmm...... English..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Things were so different here. Well, not really different since I have faced some of the stuff in India and some in America.. but then.. some stuff... you know..? Anyhow... Drive &amp; walk the other side. Talk weirdly. Even the keyboards have a " mark sign instead of the @ sign above number 2, and number 3 has a £ sign instead of the # sign above it. But nevertheless, it was fun. Overall, its just been a day, but London seems to be getting more and more exiciting by the hour. This is so awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, this experience should be sooo gooooooooddd.. It turns out that my friends have major plans. Looks like my photo album will shine with the pictures really soon. I have loads of pictures already. Some are crappy but some look awesome. Anyway... Time to ROCK.. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/Me_at_frns_house_01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/Me_at_frns_house_01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Me at a friend's place in my new, ENGLAND Tshirt :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112419513040847161?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112419513040847161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112419513040847161&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112419513040847161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112419513040847161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/08/blah-dee-other-side-london.html' title='The Blah-dee Other Side - London'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112368874114676457</id><published>2005-08-11T11:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-10T13:11:18.946-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Amit !!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Who let the dogs out ??? Who?? Whoo??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I simply had to start this entry with that line up there. Happy birthday Kkkkkkkkkkkkk !!! For those who don't know what KK means, or don't know Hindi at all, KK means Kutta Kamina. Now kutta=dog, and kamina i cant explain in hindi, means, asshole, no not really.. but like an idot.. very irritating.. and pakao.. Dont ask me what pakao is.. Just meet KK once... Anyways.. Today I am going to write an essay on kk..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Once upon a time long long, but not too long ago used to live a boy called KK. Well he was not really a boy, he was a doggie. Well, not really a doggie. He was simply a KK. No body knows who he was or what he was, but he did a lot of KK-giri. Anything you ask him, he will give you KK-replies. He passed his Bsc in Comp Sci, but doesnt know anything. He is doing graphics, but name sake, actually he clicks his own foto and sticks it there, he doesnt really make cartoons. Basically, I think he should start a TV serial with all PJs in it, only Pjs, and call it KK No.1 ... Will be way more famous than Garfield or any other cartoon show.. (Damn You KK.. don't start off now.. about how you have done great work on garfield n stuff.. )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, Was Kks birthday, apparently he took 3 huge cakes to give "friends" in his office, more than 80 people.. but mere ko kuch nahi... Pure KK he is..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KK kutte... i hope u had fun.. and I know you did finally visit pune. Lets hope your coming to the US works out for next year, and also lets hope that we meet up and party soon again. Allright KK, take care, cyaaa !!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/z001_the_2_kks_at_dkks_house.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/z001_the_2_kks_at_dkks_house.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- The Two KK's at DKK's Old House...  Appy Budday KK !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112368874114676457?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112368874114676457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112368874114676457&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112368874114676457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112368874114676457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/08/happy-birthday-amit.html' title='Happy Birthday Amit !!!'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112309054221150315</id><published>2005-08-03T15:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-28T23:38:57.023-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Genius or Madness ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;"I am a computer programmer, I am supposed to be arrogant." Can you believe that? Ya, computer genius guys or computer whizs and such people are believed to be very moody, do what they want types, arrogant, weird or other things of that nature. One of my computer programer friend says, "Computer programmers won't dress for anyone, not even if its the president coming to your office". In my experiences studying different courses, I have seen that we as computer engineers, computer scientists or programmers, always make fun of the business students, most women too, and various other people who can undertand basic calculus and stuff. A friend of mine was once asked in his psych class by a friend for some help on probability and matricies, and he looked at her like, "WHAT?", you can't do that?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;He couldn't believe that she dint know how to do basic math. And he did eventually help her, but while doing so if she would take 10 minutes to think something, or a long time to reply, he would get so frustrated that he dint know what to do, simply because according to him it is just impossible to not understand some stuff. Such programmers / engineers / scientists etc. do stuff that no one else can probaly do. Some really cool, genius work, can understand math which seems weird to most people, very easily and other such stuff. However, remember that there is a fine line between genius and madness. What I am worried about is, if you are in a lab doing that same thing forever, would you cross this line ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: left;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_off_12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/me_off_12.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Saw How Cool I am? See The Stuff On The Board, I DID IT!!  LOL!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its not just about the madness or extreemse stress, but there are so many traits. Arrogance is the biggest. Probably because they think they can do such great stuff so quick, that if some other major had to do it, it would probably take them forever. Another is madness. Craziness, which I'm not going to get into. Amongst the various other traits, another common one is weirdness. Some people think that these guys are weird. Which may be true because, they may not understand some of the stuff these guys talk about, ever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;However on the other hand, there is stuff thats kinda different. In that, they are weird. Period. Not just that they sound weird coz of their tech jargon or something. They just respond weirdly to certain situations and stuff. Today I came to another research lab to meet some people for security related discussions over lunch. Great people. Fun mood around. Awesomee, simply genius work was being discussed across the table. Really high tech stuff, that would easily intrigue and even stun some of the most intelligent of the "genius" geeks. However, toward the end I noticed something that drove me crazy.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;There was a bunch of really awesome people doing something weird. The discussion started of by talking about how to join two round tables. People gave all sorts of theories and some people are like, there is no perfect way to join to rount tables.. you can make aquares out of them and join those to get a perfect table, but blah blah .. !!! I got so pissed off, I got up, dragged the other table close to ours and there was an 8 like shape, and we were sitting and talking happily after that. Not that it looked great or anything, but it was just an hour of lunch for God's sake !!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that over the course of converstaion there were like more than 3 people playing with thermecol cups. One person was like biting chips off it with his nails.. another cut out a ring that slid over the rest of the cup and was so proud of it.. and all sorts of weird stuff... Yaahhh.. WEIRD..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, this blog entry had gotten deleted and in place of this there was some weird text.. dunno how it got there.. so.. I had to rewrite the second half.. but doesnt matter.. Iv given a briefing on it..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/my_office_011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/my_office_011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- My Office @ IBM Research, in NY, last year...!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112309054221150315?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112309054221150315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112309054221150315&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112309054221150315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112309054221150315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/08/genius-or-madness.html' title='Genius or Madness ?'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112304172110754557</id><published>2005-08-03T07:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-03T15:29:01.916-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Goodyyyyyyyy !!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well, at first it should not be goody, it should be guddie. But I wrote it as goody, for those who won't be able to pronounce guddie the right way. It is almost like goody, as in "miss goody two shoes"... Damnnn... I dunno where i got that from... Anyway, secondly I my baby is gonna be pissed because I called her Guddie, and not Devkey.. I'm sorry yaar.. but on the other hand, its weird when kids grow up.. I know I sound like an old man or something, but thats not what I mean at all, its just weird, when you know your lill sis comes up to you and tells you she finds a guy hot, and specially someone who you have been treating like a kid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anyhow, so yesterday was her 10th birthday. Oh Nooo.. like 15th or something.. oh God no !! I just calculated.. apparently she is 17.. How in the world did she grow up so much ? What is happening ? I'm not like 200 years old, then how can she become 17 ? She is supposed to be 10 years old, every year.. I mean.. atleast every other year.. Or whatever...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anyhow, for those who still din't figure our, it is my little sister, Devkey's birthday. Apparently she is 17 now. Yeaaahhhhh 17 years oldddd... Well.. like 2 days ago, in the rains she hurt her foot, coz she fell down due to the very strong current in the water.. Damnn these kids.. can't be careful.. can they ? Had to get that injection, nah ? Hope shes better now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Aaaah.. I bet she loved the dutch chocolate cake from Brownie Point... mmmm... I miss Bombay so much. Some of the very best food in the world is in Bombay.. Just wait for my amazingly unique, and dynamic restaurant to start.. I'v been discussing my plans with some people, and apparently some think I should be able to start it in 5 years, and others think like 50..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anyhow, hope you have a nice nice birthday, Devkey.. happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy birthday.. (I hope I got 17 happy's).. Hope you have a blast.. and.. I will talk to you soon.. Actually I'm about to call you gudiya, go get your phone..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/Daman_lake_resort_guddi_hoggin_icecream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/Daman_lake_resort_guddi_hoggin_icecream.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- A True Ice-cream Lover.. Hai Na Meri Behen ???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112304172110754557?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112304172110754557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112304172110754557&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112304172110754557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112304172110754557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/08/happy-birthday-goodyyyyyyyy.html' title='Happy Birthday Goodyyyyyyyy !!'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112303905505221924</id><published>2005-08-02T22:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-03T15:15:11.766-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wrong stuff at the right place!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So another boring day. I dunno what to do. I'm singing, "Gaddi jaani yeh chullanga maar dee", as I do sometimes. Its from a movie. It means almost nothing. I mean I think I know what it means, but yea whatever, doesn't matter. Its just a line this dude keeps singing in a really funny film, and I liked it, so just kept going. Anyhow, so Jason called and we remembered about something that we spoke about quite a while ago....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There is an IBM lab at Hawthorne. About 25 mins drive from our office, and about 20 mins from home. They have a ping pong room, a decent gym and several other recreational things in the building for the employees. However, one of the several times that we had gone there, we saw this amazing TV room. It has several screens, but the best of them is one huge 50 inch or so screen connected to a PSP and another huge, God knows how many meters screen which had is connected to a few things. So we decided that someday we will come in late with pizza and beer, and some DVDs and watch them in this room. Oh yea, the icing on the cake is that this room has amazing bean bags and several cozy couches. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So today that Jason called, he had an action movie and a British comedy. And co-incidently, him and me both had ordered 5,5,5. Oh, its a deal by Dominos, 3 medium pizzas for 5 bucks each. So we were almost certain that this day was meant to watch these DVDs on those amazing couches in that room. We decide to go there, and in 10 mins we are on our way. On the way we are making fun of several managers, and specially our director. [Hope hes not reading this].&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;We reach there, and guess what ? Everything seems perfect. There is barbeque sauce in the drawers. The place is clean. Nice and cool. Very cozy. We try to open the DVD case and guess what, it comes in our hand. Its just a flat cover. There is no DVD player. Damned ! The PSP, we put in the DVD and it starts up and everything. But guess what ? There is no way to play it, because we cannot trace the controller !! Nothing is available. No way to play anything. We were really sad and pissed off. I mean we here had our own private theatre, and.... [Well almost had...] &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I even got a brilliant idea of using one of the conference rooms as our mini theatre. And Jas suggested a great idea of putting the bean bags on the huge conf tables and watching the movies in there. Damned that would be something. But obviously we din't try that. Dunno why though. We did get stuck in the library though.. Well.. again.. almost.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Overall it was a partially adventurous night. Well not really, but yeah, you do have an idea what it was though. Basically in one line; what happened to us ? Here it is, a line from one of the movies I love, "Gaye thae toh Zanjeer ke Amitabh jaise.. Aaur aayee hai toh Sholay ke Asrani jaise.... Aaah .. Haah...... "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/PICT0020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/PICT0020.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;-  Perfectly Chilled Out Relaxed Mood To Watch TV...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112303905505221924?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112303905505221924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112303905505221924&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112303905505221924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112303905505221924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/08/wrong-stuff-at-right-place.html' title='Wrong stuff at the right place!'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112291735808610104</id><published>2005-07-31T23:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-02T23:45:59.096-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Height Of Laziness !</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;What is the height of laziness? Me. How? Because I am too lazy to be lazy!! No seriously, I was. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I mean I have never had such a lazy weekend. Forget about the weekend, I've never damned been feeling lazy on a friday night ! Always been ready to do something. Anyway, mostly I just ate pizzas and saw like 6 movies and just slept in all of friday night and saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, Me and Jason plan to go for pool. We take off real nice, but eventually we are tired of playing pool. Too lazy to shoot. We drew, again; 9 all. Neither of us were willing to put in the energy to actually play more shots than what would be needed to like barely make it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Im gonna kick some ass today", that was me. "I'm actually gonna beat you, without you potting the black for me. Genuine victories.", that was Jason. And what we did, played and played, but slow, sluggish and were dragging along all the time. We were too lazy to go a few blocks to actually get food to eat. I mean, c'mon!! Those who know me, know that food and me have a unique bond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, eventually, when we returned, I started writing a blog about laziness with no title. Finally, I felt too lazy to even write this entry and figured that I would title it Height of Laziness. The height of laziness then was, that I was too lazy to write about it. But then eventually, I was lying in bed, and I was too lazy to be lazy. Ok, so I mean that, I was in bed, like at an incline, totally relaxed, surfing the net, and food and ice cream around me, and eventually i had been in there so long that i felt that Oh My God, this is so much of a task... to actually have to do everything here.. Everything meaning ofcourse.. clickin the mouse button.. or chewing on food.. or sipping on, diet - caffiene free - ginger ale - canada dry. But anyway, I got over it by night, that is right now, and with tremendous effort and a lot of willpower, I managed to write this entry. God Bless Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/z047_Me_n_Yesu_Smashed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/z047_Me_n_Yesu_Smashed.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;-  Extreeme Laziness.. Though.. This is a pic of me &amp;amp; yesu.. Totally Smashed..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112291735808610104?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112291735808610104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112291735808610104&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112291735808610104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112291735808610104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/07/height-of-laziness.html' title='Height Of Laziness !'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112239424676684207</id><published>2005-07-29T23:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-30T23:32:57.516-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kuch Bhi Ho Sakta Hai !</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;For those who don't know Hindi, Kuch Bhi Ho Sakta Hai means Anything Can Happen. Where ? Well, in Bombay !! Yep. Its the best place I have known. Ya ya, I know its called Mumbai now. But then, I still prefer Bombay! On the other hand there are people, who don't believe that Bombay was renamed to Mumbai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nooohh! You can't just rename a city!", says Jason. "What about the millions of maps and stuff ?". Arre yaar, what to tell him, kuch bhi ho sakta hai. Zara Hutt Ke, Zara Bach Ke, Yeh Hai Bombay Meri Jaan. That reminds me of a song from the 60's or something. Raj Kapoor. Aey dil hai mushkil jeena yaha... zara hutt ke.. zara bach ke.. yeh hai bombay meri jaan.. Damnn.. Bombay Rocksss. Aaah Those days !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Its true dude, Bombay was renamed. And a small anecdote, just to add to the expressions on Jason's face. It is about the dude who apparently was the primary cause of renaming a million streets, the biggest railway station, the airport and many other places of Bombay to "Shivaji" names. Shivaji, by the way, was a great ruler of Maharashtra, a few centuries ago. So I heard that, in these extreeme rains in Bombay, this dude, goes to a hotel, in a boat !! On the streets !! Because they were flooded as hell !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well.. I juz heard that.. but apparently there were millions of stories that people faced. My bro took 8 hours to get home. My sis outisde her college, due to the water current she fell down, and hurt herself. Then walked in the water, had to get an injection and stuff, just incase, you know any infection and stuff. But there are millions of people who face loads of issues too. There were several fires, and people got electrocuted too, hence some places had the electricity cut off. Then there was a oil tanker fire. Then there was loads of other issues. Bombay is still recovering. My best wishes to everyone, back in my home town. Apparently this was the worse rainfall ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/choco_brownie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/choco_brownie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;-Aah.. Those days in Bombay.. Me Teachin 'em the sizzlin brownie tact..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112239424676684207?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112239424676684207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112239424676684207&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112239424676684207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112239424676684207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/07/kuch-bhi-ho-sakta-hai.html' title='Kuch Bhi Ho Sakta Hai !'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112238719945574090</id><published>2005-07-26T10:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-01T14:21:27.656-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New version of "I need my space"!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Someone's gonna die. Yep, someone's gonna. Not now, not today, but everyday. Yeah, you guessed right. I'm gonna taunt at women again. But see, its this awesome love-hate relationship that I have with women, and there is just these things that somehow eat me sometimes. Like for example, if you need space, like miles of it more than no matter how much you have, then don't we ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I was chatting with someone, and I heard the new version of "I need my space". It goes, "Had too much of him, I need my space". It almost gave me a heart attack. But the real attack came, when Miss Poda (name changed on purpose), went on to say, "Had too much of him, I need my space... but he is my loyal dog... so its all cool". Cool ? Amm, I definitely know people who wont find it "cool". And yeah, I did get a heart attack. I mean, I thought it is about love. She literally attacked my heart, by saying all these things. Where is the love, damn it ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Allright, all those things go by. Then comes another bomb. Madamji is going to another university. So she finds cute guys. And I am asked, if she should target better people or is he okay for her. And suddenly, several thoughts came to my mind, about so many women, wanting cute / hot / sexy guys or whatever it is that they want, u know ? But she is talking about finding someone just like that, to replace someone who she had fallen in love. I mean its cool by me to pick hot chics, and same way they pick the guys they find hot. But damn, why do I get to hear crap about love all the time, where as they don't really care ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They show they care, but may be they don't. And the reason is, like I posted on Jason's blog about what women want, that they don't know what they want. They don't damn know what they want. So they mess with us. I mean if u do the same thing then don't blame us, you know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me not continue about the conversation with Miss Poda, simply because she will kill me, if I do. I mean each of my blog is about someone, or something, but I should know my limits too, isn't it. But I must mention that in this conversation that was ofcourse, very kidding and, im messing with you types.. a lot of things came out. They do, you know. Ooobbb-veeee-youssss-leeeee she, nor any other woman will every accept it. But things happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/Me_n_Nina_at_sips.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/Me_n_Nina_at_sips.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Leave some space woman ! (Else someone will f**k me and kill you.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p face="trebuchet ms" align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112238719945574090?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112238719945574090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112238719945574090&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112238719945574090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112238719945574090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/07/new-version-of-i-need-my-space.html' title='New version of &quot;I need my space&quot;!!'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112239216854941800</id><published>2005-07-25T15:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-26T12:02:06.480-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I need "luck" to reap what I sowed?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This is my follow up to the previous article. Someone called MS has posted me a comment, which is very interesting, and I do agree with him to a great extent. Part of it reads "Karma whether good or bad does not necessarily (so I believe) mean that actions in-kind will be done unto you but rather ANY action in-kind will be done unto you. (Example: you treat your kids bad and you get shot in a robbery or you donate a kidney to someone and you win the lottery)."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This is true. Things do happen. You get back good in one form or the other. And even the bad. I have heard of this concept in my childhood. I have read several mythological books, and have many beliefs, that some may classify as superstitious. Generally, Im very practical. Sometimes, "too practical", as per one of the comments. Anyhow, Coming back to the karma point. You get back stuff, in one form or the other. However, I have come across several people who have actually done good most of the time, and even if they have done bad its small, but are suffering always. On the other hand there is no shortage of these really happy &amp; / or rich &amp;amp; / or satisfied people, who always mock others, and do loads of other bad stuff, but still live their life happily. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;When I speak to the very practical people about such situations, without really giving them a background or any karma talk, the very same people tell me, "sab naseeb hai", as in, its all your luck. What about luck then ? Is it only karma ? Or is it luck ? Or is it a balance ? May be a fusion ? I don't think I'll look for the answers. I'd rather focus on writing stuff about women. It keeps my time going by nice and happy, plus no tension. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, by the way, someone just told me, what goes around comes around! But in the conversation about men and women. She was wanting to know why I taunt at women so much. I said because they do such stuff. She said, I agree some of them do, but then what goes around comes around. Guys do such stuff too. But its again about why do the guys who are nice to girls get tormentous women, and nice women at times get bad guys too ? According to MS' example, its like the guy was nice to a girl, but may be he got a better job or some other good thing happened to him. Not meaning to mock his statement. Damn. I thought, in this paragraph I won't get into the karma stuff ! Anyway, so, does it mean that, we gotta be good all the time, in everything we do ? So that whatever we get back will be good. But then no one really is perfect ? I guess thats why the whole cycle. Ok I really wanna end this here... :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_wid_kk_n_kunal_at_pop_tates_01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/me_wid_kk_n_kunal_at_pop_tates_01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- KK, Me, KB bak in bbay.. Me &amp;amp; KB are in the US, KK is on his way.. hopefully..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112239216854941800?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112239216854941800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112239216854941800&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112239216854941800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112239216854941800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/07/i-need-luck-to-reap-what-i-sowed.html' title='I need &quot;luck&quot; to reap what I sowed?'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112191440133239058</id><published>2005-07-19T11:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-03T02:07:35.520-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad you sow, only that shall you reap!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;People who say that they believe in "as you sow, so shall you reap"; I kinda doubt them. I don't think you can actually believe that. I'm not saying I think its not true. I don't know if this karma stuff is true or not. I'm just saying that I'm not sure if you can actually believe it. I have seen by experience that when people are really sad, because they din't get something they wanted or because things din't happen the way they wanted them to and instead, someone else got it possibly by means that may seem wrong to you then, you tend to say, "He will get back for what he has done" or things like "He cheated someone, and someday someone will cheat him".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you observe closely, this is quite interesting actually. Someone gave me an example saying that... "Lets say for example there is a couple who ignores their kids, doesn't care about them, blah blah... Do you think their kids will care for them ?" I said probably not. And my friend says. "That's exactly what I'm talking about". I said sure. But, I have also seen people who treat their kids really well, teach them all the good stuff, do eveyrthing almost right but, their kids turn out bad, and eventually leave the parents in a much worse state than in the above case. My friend says "Parik, karma does come back. The guy who treated his nice parents badly, won't be happy either, his kids will also trouble him".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, now that is not good. It is probably fair on the bad guy who troubled his nice parents that his kids are bad to him. However, what about the nice parents ? They din't get back the good they did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I think may be happening is that only the bad things you sow, you get back. But the good things that you sow, don't really come back. Atleast not always. Do they really come back ? May be they do but are ignored ? May be there is no such thing as karma, at all ? May be you just gotta be smart enough to be able to get your way through ? Or, may be, like some folks say, you will reap benifits or suffer punishments in your next life. Ok, now that triggers off an all-together different discussion. So I'm gonna end this article on if karma actually gives you back everything ? And hey, what if you land up doing something wrong, without meaning to ? You would like to believe that nothing will happen to you if you don't mean to hurt anyone, and if your intentions are good and blah blah..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, does karma know that ? Do things really happen like that ? If by mistake, you hit someone real hard, without meaning to, and the person punches you back in the face and walks off, would you think that it is karma ? Nope. Why ? Because you din't mean to, but it did happen, din't it ? You reaped the bad you sowed, without wanting to or not. May be karma works only for abstract things ? Like lets say, if someone is in trouble and I put in a few good words to make the person more comfortable, and some other time in life, God forbid, I am in trouble, then this person puts in a few good words back to make me feel better. Ah, there may be a chance that the person isn't able to show up when i need him/her. He/she may have genuine issues and may not be around. And may be the person is nice and is thinking that, Aww Parik.. I hope he is fine soon. But then all that is abstract. What controls actual practical karma related things ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/Me_Dawal_Yesu_Avi_at_phuel2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/Me_Dawal_Yesu_Avi_at_phuel2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Avi Me Dawal Yesu, Some of us @uni.. we wer der 4eech oder...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112191440133239058?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112191440133239058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112191440133239058&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112191440133239058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112191440133239058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/07/bad-you-sow-only-that-shall-you-reap.html' title='Bad you sow, only that shall you reap!'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112171683784489944</id><published>2005-07-18T15:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-26T10:38:26.386-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dumbledore is dead !</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The sixth Harry Porter book is out. Dumbledore dies. I know those who are reading this and haven't read the book yet, will be abusing me, but still. Snape is the one who kills dumbledore and flees to Lord Voldemorts side. Dumbledore wanted funeral at Hogwart and gets a grand one as per his wishes. Also, Minister of magic, Cornelius Fudge is fired and Rufus Scrimgeour is the new minsiter. Loads of other stuff too. However, this book has been focused, towards love and romance totally. Harry and Ginni Weasley (Ron weasley, his best friend's, younger sis) start to date but eventually Harry breaks off beacause he doesn't want Voldemort to attack Ginni to get him. Oh and, Ronald is snogging Lavender Brown, some chic from their class, to make Hermione jealous.. and is successful. Though they aren't actually together, its obvious that they have sparks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main reason for writing this entry is that, people think I don't ever do any general reading, but I can write well. True. I don't read much, except tech books, ofcourse. However, by seeing this title, I can make some people believe that even I read stuff, sometimes. Ah, that reminds me about this book called, The Boy Next Door. I read that one several times, over one year, in my 6th or 7th grade. Really nice one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I seriously wanna do three important things. One is start reading more. Two is start writing more, and espically work more on my book. And, Three, I wanna learn a new language, mostly spanish, or I may continue my stuff on french.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_hal_05_wid_dancer_chic_01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/me_hal_05_wid_dancer_chic_01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Noo, noo.. Please don't do magic on me.. Don't send me to Hogwarts.. &lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112171683784489944?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112171683784489944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112171683784489944&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112171683784489944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112171683784489944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/07/dumbledore-is-dead.html' title='Dumbledore is dead !'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112155490665889806</id><published>2005-07-17T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-18T14:22:10.600-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm lonely; I want you.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"I'm so lonely" ..... &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"awwww" &lt;/span&gt;..... "Date ?" ..... &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"umm, ok." ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Does that really work ??? ...  Duh !!! ... All the time !!!!!&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how some of us guys get away with such things. On the other hand, women fall for such weird things. I mean, for God's sake, if he's all lonely and stuff and you go out on a date, and then he tells you stories about how cool he is and how chics like him, and blah blah, you get impressed or something of that sort? How is that supposed to work? Din't you like meet up with him coz he was lonely? What happened there ? Cmon !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone.. well almost everyone.. has a past and obviously if you are becomgin friends with someone, at some point they will tell you about the past. However, it is interesting to note that they talk about it at a particular time. If he wants to lure you, in some sense, what he does is that he tells you about it at a time, when he thinks he can get the most sympathy out of you. Its impossible to tell weather a person is doing it because he / she wants to really share or to gain some points.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep. I'm gonna start writing about how guys try to get some women points, and how women try to get guy points. Well there, now something comes to my mind.. Ehh.. Im juz gonna postpone this one. So, sympathy gets a guy 10 woman points. And the woman's stupidy gets him another 90. Good for you man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what that does ? It screws over the guy who actually likes a girl and wants her to know about his past, and you know wants to share stuff with her. It also screws up the guy who wants to actually be just friends.. uuummm.. no no.. i don't mean.. "jusstttt friends", i mean, literally, just a friend. Obviously there is never, no way to tell. So I guess the smarter ones will be able to convince a woman that they are the sincere kinds. The only satisfaction that the woman has is that he is smart enough to convince her that he is actually genuine. Even though, obviously many won't be. But then again, what can you do ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_rd_trp_CT_close_up.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/me_rd_trp_CT_close_up.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Me.. Juz waiting.. for the right moment... &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112155490665889806?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112155490665889806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112155490665889806&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112155490665889806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112155490665889806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/07/im-lonely-i-want-you.html' title='I&apos;m lonely; I want you.'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112170970699384405</id><published>2005-07-16T05:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-18T14:47:00.796-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Pinky!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ah, nice idea. Today onwards I shall post a "Happy Birthday Friend!" blog for every friend's birthday that goes by. I will post an entry the very next day. So if you see an entry on the 24rd of May for me, you should figure out that my happy birthday is on the 23rd of May. Anyhow, so this way I can remember all the good (&amp; bad) things about the person and can also give a small tribute to them. So when's your birthday?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm.. About Pinky.. She is a simple person.. Laid back..&lt;br /&gt;Pretty fun to be with.. and.. a very genuine person..&lt;br /&gt;Bad things ? Is that all you guys wait for ? Shuh ! That's bad.&lt;br /&gt;Don't really know bad things about her, guess I'm not thaaat close to her. But sure, shes a great friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So friday was her birthday, the 15th of July, and she invited us for dinner and then to a lounge after. It was called Maya Lounge. So I &amp;amp; Jas decided to go. We couldn't make it for the dinner.. I hear it was real good.. :( .. But.. Maya lounge was good too. Though there was no "maya" there. Mann ko mohit kur dene walli koi maya nahi thee... umm.. for Jason I mean.. He said that.. Yaa.. I mean in english though.. but yaa..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/pinky_bday_maya_lounge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/pinky_bday_maya_lounge.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So, we reach there, change 4 trains, and reach the place. We then meet some people, and they leave! I was like, arre ! Lol.. I guess Indian parents and stuff, so some people do have to leave early.. Anyway.. we get drinks n stuff chat around and stuff, and someone asks me why am I quiet? Omg thats a rare sight, and if you are asking me that, means you are making a big mistake. Allright then, I couldn't control, and eventually she was pulling her hair.. Amm.. Lol.. hair.. well.. I just have one thing to say, lets not think what kids in India would call the hair, but personally, I would say, they are pretty. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allright, so its going pretty ok, we try to dance on a floor. First of all, I just havent danced (unless I'm really drunk), for the last several months, coz I need to loose weight !!!! Its juz that I don't feel the same, and 95% of my clothes are tight. Arrrgghhhh..&lt;br /&gt;Well the funnier thing is that, we were dancing on the floor.. no no.. I dont mean the dance floor.. I mean just the floor.. literally.. because.. there was no dance floor ! But then I guess, its a lounge, you're just supposed to sit around and get drunk. See I don't do that sort of things, coz, i need to loose weight na.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, at about 130am or so when its closing, we leave, walk around in hunt for food like nomads. Again no desicions are made on time, and eventually we land up at this diner.. where no one actually eats. But it was ok, and the night was pretty good on the whole. Then I &amp; Jas walk to the subway, wait for like an hour for the train, then take the train to 86th street, walk several blocks, drive all the way home.. and I come home to my baby and my blog..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_n_pinky.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/me_n_pinky.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt; - Happy Birthday Pinky!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112170970699384405?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112170970699384405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112170970699384405&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112170970699384405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112170970699384405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/07/happy-birthday-pinky.html' title='Happy Birthday Pinky!'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112153213121697949</id><published>2005-07-15T20:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-17T00:27:48.860-04:00</updated><title type='text'>We are just friends..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; ... which is totally cool ... ... u n t i l ... ... "just" becomes "jusssstttt". That extra emphasis on just. Damn. It can actually drive you crazy. Why would someone do that ? Is the guy blind that he won't see the different between her and her "just friends" ? I mean honestly, I sympathize with the guy whose girlfriend's have these so called "just friends". Friends are totally cool, but "just friends" ??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many brilliant theories to resolve the "just friends problem". One of the algorithms, is the simple "you do this, i do it too" algorithm. You know the tit for tat algorithm. But the thing is that, this tit for tat algorithm doesn't work with women. Why? Because, forget tit and tat, she has tit and tit.. which by the way.. can get you a lot of very very good, "just friends".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we still don't have the " 'jussssttt' justification problem" solved. The question however, is not how do we solve this problem? It is, How much do you want the relationship? Because that is what everything depends on. If you don't really want it, then do hell with it. On the other hand, if you want it to go on, you gotta adjust. Gotta take it as its coming. Take it for a while, and hope that there is mutual understanding to resolve the issue. But then, there's a limit to everything. Beyond a point, anything can snap, isn't it ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/Me_Rachna_Blessie_Sameera_Linni_at_sips.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/Me_Rachna_Blessie_Sameera_Linni_at_sips.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Some of us back @ uni... the fun days...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112153213121697949?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112153213121697949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112153213121697949&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112153213121697949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112153213121697949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/07/we-are-just-friends.html' title='We are just friends..'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112111222007506799</id><published>2005-07-11T15:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-17T00:36:09.250-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a man's choice !</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Once upon a time there was a man, who dint tell anyone his financial matters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;; not his wife, not kids no one.. but.. he gave his family everything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; however he screwed up a few times.. so every1 pointed fingers at him in one way or the other &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;and he dint know what to do..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Now he always told his kids the story of a man who was in the same situation &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;never told anyone any financial details, what money comes from where and how he splits it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; but he never screwed up, and even if he did he would manage to make it up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; and he was the hero.. and everything..&lt;/span&gt; He also always told his kids to never be in his own situation.. and if anything.. be in the situation of this other dude...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Today i was just reading and thinkin about these people.. and just thought.. what does a man have to do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; if he isn't financially stable ? He's screwed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;. I mean certain things juz wont work out for them, ever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;. Ok im not like getting married or anything.. dont worry im not planning for that stuff either.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;But point is what is the worth of a man, the amount of dough he is worth ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gotta, gotta know how to keep my mouth shut&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;. Thats the best way to deal with things..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; coz what iv seen and heard isnt really pretty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; and if I learn to keep my mouth shut.. atleast i wont have to tell my wife details.. you know? Coz she ain't gonna understand anyway; woman, isn't it ? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I can juz say i love you.. and.. ill get u this and that.. or ill take u here n there i dont have to say ... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Oops i think i should get it next month.. or we should do it later..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But damn, I'm worried about my future. Somehow, these thoughts fade out real easy. My dad who has been in several occult sciences for the last 30 years, just for his hobby, always told me that no matter what issues I will have I will get past them, real swift. But you know what.. I can still feel IT coming..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_off04.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/me_disp_off04.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt; Me.. In my office @ IBM.. Last Year..&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112111222007506799?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112111222007506799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112111222007506799&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112111222007506799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112111222007506799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/07/its-mans-choice.html' title='It&apos;s a man&apos;s choice !'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112111157189441961</id><published>2005-07-10T20:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-18T20:07:54.750-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Balls To You !</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ah, so the plan for today worked. I mean it was a fairly simple plan, but still, cmon. We had decided to drive to white plains, and play pool all day :) And we did. So it was good. My fingers felt stretched out, we played so much. It just reminded me of the days in bombay when we used to play for hours and hours. For about a year and a half there was a crazy crazy pool craze all around. There were pool parlours all around. Some could fit in just one table. Anyone who wanted to make a lill money opened up one, coz college students from all over would flood the place. And obviously, when there are so many pool parlours, there's a problem of choice. Not just for us, for the owners too. They were short of names. So they had names like, Balls throughout, 8-ball, pool-pool, juz balls, balls 2 u, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we played n played, and it was so much fun. Got my skills back :) Just had not played in a long time. However, the thing that I do with my yahoo pool.. that did not stop for some reason. Yeah, for those who have played yahoo pool with me must know that I always pot the black ball at the wrong time. I won 9 games and so did Jason. However, I potted the black for him, in like 7 of the games. Aint that crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, after that we walked around for a bit and went shopping. I left my glares yesterday at this weird french place, so had to buy new ones.. and I did.. and they are soooo gooooood. They are cooooooool. Kinda like the old ones, but way cooler. I'v also been hunting for black cargos, with like atleast 20 pockets, but never found any decent black cargo pants, not even in Soho yesterday. Today wen I saw these really cool, off white cargos, I just could'nt resist and bought those too, with a really wicked black t-shirt. First comment I got on it, "You look like an american kid, whats up with that ?" And I was like.. NOooohHH !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/Me_daman_lake_resort_pool_01-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/Me_daman_lake_resort_pool_01-2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;What a shot ! Just see.. Just see the positioning.. &lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112111157189441961?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112111157189441961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112111157189441961&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112111157189441961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112111157189441961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/07/balls-to-you.html' title='Balls To You !'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-112110993516076236</id><published>2005-07-09T23:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-12T14:25:19.206-04:00</updated><title type='text'>One step at a time . . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The title to this entry sounds so philosophical for some reason. Anyway, I never really take one step at a time.. Well.. actually I do.. but I guess... I don't want to.. I tend to want to take several steps at a time.. like jump a few steps and get what I want.. But somehow it doesn't work. Since the time I was seven and a half years old I have had this feeling that something BIG is meant to happen for me. I'm here to do something... something great... grand... and stuff like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so I skipped the planning steps, as usual, and took off for the city. "The city" like someone mentioned is in reference to manhattan only, and no other parts of New York city. So its me and Jas enjoying the bright day, racing around, feel fidgity with the bikers on the streets and stuff, and eventually after a fair bit of fun reach the city. We met two other IBM interns on the way and they happen to be chinese. Very authentic, from China. And they took us to China town, for some original, very real, authentic, like-in-china type of cantonese food, ordered in mandrin chinese language apparently. We then walked around China town and shopped for small trinklets and stuff like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we went to Soho.. shopped around for a bit.. and then Jason is like.. dude, call those ditcher friends of yours who ditched us for laser tag.. and Im like.. okaaayyy.. and we met up with my friends in the city from last year.. and had a good time.. bowling and stuff.. (I won.. Obbb-veee-yusss-leeee).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was one nice day. I met super woman, saw this really crazy kid who was fighting with everyone and throwing water ballons on his parents and family for no good reason and stuff like that. But what happened was that we walked for hours and hours and did not make any desicion about what to do next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Six people, and still no desicion. We talked and diverted each other all the time. And I did realize that I will need to do something to get a desicion soon.. ok.. I mean... Ill have to make a desicion soon... about my career and stufff.. was kinda worried about it... not that Ill have issues or anything.. but just that.. I wanna be definitive about what Im gonna do next.. It still feels like its close.. its coming up... its meant for me and only me.. and it isn't too far now.. The Big Thing I Mean..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/Me_outside_jasons_place.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/Me_outside_jasons_place.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Kadam kadam badhaaye jaa.. &lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-112110993516076236?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/112110993516076236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=112110993516076236&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112110993516076236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/112110993516076236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/07/one-step-at-time.html' title='One step at a time . . . .'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-111998319381395502</id><published>2005-06-28T14:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-17T00:36:16.336-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Morning, Welcome Class !</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"... they key to this thing is ... " ... Oh My God.. some people.. juz go on and on.. and I'm like naaah the thing is that... " .. but you see internet explorer no longer supports .. " ... ok dude.. I really don't use IE.. I'm an open source guy... I use mozilla... ".. and that is where the WAS server is supposed to host ..." ... Oh My God.. he just wont stop... What did I do.. ? Why did I take this class ? He's like, lets package this stuff in a lets go to WAR file or a chop off my EAR file.. God... Its seemingly all about the concepts and nothing about actually doing something.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Thats how most courses are actually. Even at university. Some are practical oriented, but I dont think learning has anything to do with education. Learning can be done by yourself and education, in the sense we see it today, like the university perspective and stuff, is all about getting what they are talking about. It is something, in some perspective, in some place at some time. It doesn't mean anything. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anyway, an entirely useless day. Din't do much. Din't do anything, actually. Wanted to write a page more in my book, but I don't think it really matter, because my inspiration for the book is the proximity within extreeme distances. But somehow the contrary is happening. No, no, I'm not talking about setting up networks over long distances or wireless in a close by range. Cmon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/rd_trp_33_NH_rvr_khayalon_mein.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/rd_trp_33_NH_rvr_khayalon_mein.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p  align="right" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt; This Is Nothing.. Class Was Much More Boring&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-111998319381395502?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/111998319381395502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=111998319381395502&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/111998319381395502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/111998319381395502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/06/good-morning-welcome-class.html' title='Good Morning, Welcome Class !'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-111998287503947484</id><published>2005-06-25T22:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T00:39:53.030-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a lill bit longer....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This weekend is going so good. Nice day. Nice weather. Great Hike. But, today was a very "just a lill bit longer.." day. On the whole I mean. Just 2 minutes more is what I wanted. It was hot. It was up and up the mountain. It was 6 whole miles. And ofcourse, my diet was killing me. I swore that if I dint loose some weight atleast at the end of this, I'd just res ton sunday and hog and hog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anyway, my luck wasn't that bad today. So it was good. But the best part was at the top. The hilltop actually. It has this tower and stuff, and over there this big book. Where we scribbled stuff. "Parik was here", Nov 2nd in the book. Gotta remember that date. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So ya, the whole day was about a lill bit more. Besides wanting a lill more rest each time we stopped or a few more mins to talk, somehow, I felt I had it all but... just wanted a lill more. Just a lill. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;But then, I guess, its not always quantity, its the quality. Just two minutes more I wanted. But does that matter ? Nope. Why ? Because not just two, but 20, or even the 200 minutes, would all be so.. soo.. valueless in some sense... the same mundane issues... you're still just another person... Its like so weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/Me_Arriving.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/Me_Arriving.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt; Me, David, Anna, arriving at the top.. finally..&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-111998287503947484?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/111998287503947484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=111998287503947484&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/111998287503947484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/111998287503947484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/06/just-lill-bit-longer.html' title='Just a lill bit longer....'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-111929652339034176</id><published>2005-06-19T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-06-20T16:19:06.530-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Cant I Focus ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I thought and thought, and eventually I realized that what is missing in life, is focus. Well, according to my categorization atleast. But I could somehow not improve. The way I saw it was that, having a wrong focus was the same as having no focus. I mean i did not explicitly think about it, but I would just feel that I'm not focusing in one direciton, without realizing that I am actually focusing, but in the wrong direction. Which obviously, makes my efforts futile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to do a Masters in Engineering Management, or you know more like management related stuff, for a long time but couldn't find a right course, and I don't think I have the grades to get into some schools. Some places I find really good computer security related masters programs, which I absolutely love. However, I haven't taken the GRE yet, my grades are screwed up, my essays aren't ready, and I don't have my recommendations. And I am still supposed to apply, for Spring 05. I'm so confused. Lets hope I can get something done soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, coming back to my point of focus. I think everything in life should be focused at something. And this time I have realized that wrong focus is worse than having no focus at all. It applies to everything, every field and even across two different fields. Ok, I know some of you can't understand crap about what I'm saying, but I guess I am trying to sort myself out as well while writing this blog. See, its not easy to survive with crazy people in your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea, so focus. Lets focus things in the right direction. I mean, for example, if you hate someone then hate them. Focus your hatred in the right direction, don't let it come between you and the ones you love. Ya, and what I should be doing is, focusing my energies to loosing weight, working out, completing my office project, studying for the GRE, and applying to universities. Ok, that brings another point to my mind, and that is prioritizing. Yeah, I don't do that either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/Me_icrecream_focus1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/Me_icrecream_focus1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- f o c u s s s &lt;b&gt; . . . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-111929652339034176?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/111929652339034176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=111929652339034176&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/111929652339034176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/111929652339034176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/06/why-cant-i-focus.html' title='Why Cant I Focus ?'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-111894417606926759</id><published>2005-06-15T11:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-06-20T16:18:42.436-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Quit Playing Games With My Soul !</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I gave her everything. Everything I could, but my soul.&lt;br /&gt;Dude ! I bet they want that too. &lt;p align="right"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;i&gt;- Breakin All The Rules (Movie). &lt;/i&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;Yes, you are right. I'm talking about women again. But what does one do? Being honest, just doesn't seem to pay off. I mean I know like a million jerks who are doing just fine, and its because they dont tell her everything. They are not willing to do anything to make her feel better. They dont give them their soul. I mean not that you execpt these type of "jerks" to have an honest soul, but anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if you say you are willing to make them feel better, it doesnt work. If another she has done something wrong, your she also wants to do it. She says it may make her feel better. May be. But whatever happened to humanity? And what happened to love and respect and all that good stuff, u know ? I guess the bottom line is that, its always your fault. I mean, we always hear, am I asking for too much ? Nohhh ! Noo no no, I dont wanna die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I'm trying to say is that, lets solve any issues that we have a little more sensibly, and let the "he" have the same status as the "she". Oh no, don't even think about woman's rights. Soon we are gonna be on the streets carrying flags saying, men deserve some rights too. However, if we want them, we have to say, please please give me my rights, I'm sorry. (Yes, You have to say sorry, idot. Don't you know. YES It is your fault.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do the men have to like be sorry all the time ? Its like, not even your fault, its some one elses. But then, you exist, dont you ? Thats enough of a fault. I mean, they can find a fault in anything and everything. The best of the things you do for them, the more you give, the more it is your fault, you know ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See I know what you are thinking, why doesn't he just shut up. We all know what the problems are, but are taking it quitely. No option. They got a deal. I wanna get a good deal too. I mean I have a proposal, yea ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets just keep our own souls, and we all have a good time, yea ?!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/Me_FUNNY_doing_dunno_what.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/Me_FUNNY_doing_dunno_what.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt; &lt;i&gt; Pleaseee, Pleaseee, Im sorry, Im sorry. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-111894417606926759?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/111894417606926759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=111894417606926759&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/111894417606926759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/111894417606926759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/06/quit-playing-games-with-my-soul.html' title='Quit Playing Games With My Soul !'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-111816495541240185</id><published>2005-06-07T10:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-06-08T09:36:52.103-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Technology At My Finger Tips ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;These days I'v been really busy with my PMA. Or the so called Personal Media Assistant. It is a full functional PDA, a wi-fi internet device, digital photo book, movie player, mp3 player, ipod, radio, palmtop, digital address book, web broswer, a game boy ! and it even has a linux console to do the typical linux commands n stuff. I can record stuff off the television, and it recognizes handwriting and voice. Stores 30 gigs too! The best thing about it is that it connects to everything, to the TV, my cameras, laptop, desktop computer, cell fone, usb jump drive, everything ! And me, It connects to me too !!!! LoL.. On an emotional level i mean.. I'v been exploring its features. Trying to download new softwares to install on it. Play games on it. But the saddest part is that it damned doesn't have many games released for it yet. Its so new, damn it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, besides these things, Iv also been trying to focus on my work, which isnt really going to well, because the project I was working on was scrapped, and now im working on 3 different things, and its all weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Golfing is fun, and Im gonna drag Jas to play every weekend. Besides that, my workout too is nice, but because Iv started weights after so long and my bloody body is so sore. I just feel like sleeping all day and all night. Hopefully I'll be stud boy again... pretty soon... lol... Updated my Photo Album, made some weekend plans, and I guess thats about it.. OMG Its just Tuesday yet..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/pma400_21.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-111816495541240185?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/111816495541240185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=111816495541240185&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/111816495541240185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/111816495541240185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/06/technology-at-my-finger-tips.html' title='Technology At My Finger Tips ?'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-111816326925745289</id><published>2005-06-06T11:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-06-07T13:53:00.603-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Writing Fit ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So, its another normal day at work. I come in and like my dad used to say, i'm busy without work. Now, Jas asks me, dude why don't you post something, its been forever. And i'm like Oh My God, don't even get me started. The reason I'v not been writing, is because I'v been feeling like writing all the time. No i mean literally all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, I havent really done much work on my book, but other stuff i feel like writing, all the time. Since this book thing a few months ago, Iv juz been thinking.. God knows what.. Jas told me that my chicken curry is all famous and stuff so i felt like writing a cook book.. Indian cook book.. like there aren't enough already.. I saw the blue brain IBM's super computer implementation and omg what not I wanted to write.. I was golfing with Jason, and was gonna write about the experiences of a new golfer..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/320/Me_golfin_06.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-111816326925745289?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/111816326925745289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=111816326925745289&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/111816326925745289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/111816326925745289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/06/writing-fit.html' title='Writing Fit ?'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13305338.post-111755215207255593</id><published>2005-05-31T11:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-05-31T12:30:25.026-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What Brings Me Here Today ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; Once upon a time, long long ago, i used to blog. I quit, dont know why. But I can surely tell you why im starting again. It is due to an article by Jason. My good friend, and office mate. When i read his 12 tips to avoid being called a jerk, i realized how true they are. They are true. Very true. I mean they really are true. Ok guys, i know you're pissed that im repeating myself, but cmon man.. Do u think a woman understood it at once ? Haha. She never understands. YOU have to understand. Get it ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Ok,&lt;/span&gt; now for the 12 tips actually, off Jason's page :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;12 Tips To Avoid Being Called A Jerk :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;1. The woman is always right, the man is always wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;        2. Never make a woman say anything, it is your job to understand it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;        3. If she turns a compliment into an insult, apologize&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;        4. If she says don't do something nice, you better do it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;        5. Sympathize, but never offer a woman help&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;        6. Never appear to be attracted any other woman ever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;        7. Cutsie sounds and comments are critical&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;        8. Logic has no effect, only appeal to emotions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;9. All Comments should be phrased as a question&lt;br /&gt;10. Don't give your opinion, repeat hers to avoid an arguement&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;        11. If a woman freaks out, console her.  If you freak out, head to the flower shop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;        12. Don't ever, write a list titled "11 Tips to Avoid Being Called a Jerk".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look out for my own, version of the tips to avoid being called a jerk. Ya im writing stuff these days. I want to. Infact I'm working on a book, with *someone*, about loooooveeee, and how love can work even from a million miles apart. Ok ya, what happened about it. Its going to start soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13305338-111755215207255593?l=parik5.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/feeds/111755215207255593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13305338&amp;postID=111755215207255593&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/111755215207255593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13305338/posts/default/111755215207255593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://parik5.blogspot.com/2005/05/what-brings-me-here-today.html' title='What Brings Me Here Today ?'/><author><name>Parik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17422787299986557922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/56/6114/640/me_disp_oss_rail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry></feed>
