<?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-33722486</id><updated>2011-10-09T12:40:57.878-07:00</updated><category term='Love n humor'/><category term='Life'/><category term='Bangalore'/><category term='Love n hurt'/><category term='Movies'/><category term='Random thoughts'/><category term='Social issue'/><category term='Lessons'/><category term='Love'/><category term='Love n friendship'/><title type='text'>A mind full of thoughts without limits</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>58</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-2083724154192344622</id><published>2011-09-02T09:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-04T09:00:03.736-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>To you...</title><content type='html'>I sit here idle, playing and browsing.&lt;br /&gt;I look dull and lost.&lt;br /&gt;We are having our time and space.&lt;br /&gt;But you know what,&lt;br /&gt;I listen to you playing your guitar,&lt;br /&gt;singing softly with such a grace.&lt;br /&gt;And then I skip a breathe or two.&lt;br /&gt;Every time I listen to you,&lt;br /&gt;It sweeps me off my feet,&lt;br /&gt;takes me to cloud nine.&lt;br /&gt;I fall in love over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;And I feel bliss,&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that you are mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-2083724154192344622?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/2083724154192344622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=2083724154192344622' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/2083724154192344622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/2083724154192344622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2011/09/to-you.html' title='To you...'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-6269557179907714470</id><published>2010-12-14T21:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T22:25:08.913-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hum Tum</title><content type='html'>The eternal rivalry, Man vs Women.&lt;br /&gt;Just few things suddenly came up in my mind. Jotting it down. Some might find it funny, some might find it offensive and say I am taking girl's side. May be. And I will take guy's side also. But right now Ladies first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hey, try this shirt. Does it fit?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yeah, seems so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cool. It's for ur bday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;wow, great. Love u!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Oye, where is my bday gift haan?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Umm, I couldn't decide even after thinking a lot. But why are you being so materialistic?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ok, then buy me a rose.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;huh! what crap!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lets go somewhere and let us call it an official date. We didn't go for dating for long. I miss those good old days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Huh! How kiddish. I am very busy love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's friend: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hey man, what you doing? Lets have some beer together sometime. I miss those good old days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yeah sure, lets go! Anytime for you man!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1am:&lt;br /&gt;She: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lets watch a movie tonight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sure, great!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3am:&lt;br /&gt;She: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lets make love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sure, Great, I am always ready for it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12am:&lt;br /&gt;She: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lets talk about our relationship, our future, and marriage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What Shit! Can't you see I'm so tired? Don't you have heart. You know I have been working whole day and I need to get up in the morning also.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Why are you being so rude? And whats your problem in talking about our relationship?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Me rude? You are over-reacting. You are melodramatic. Go see a doc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;___________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well... That's all for now. :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-6269557179907714470?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/6269557179907714470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=6269557179907714470' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/6269557179907714470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/6269557179907714470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2010/12/hum-tum.html' title='Hum Tum'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-76299686100470589</id><published>2010-09-17T09:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T21:45:14.388-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lessons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>It's time</title><content type='html'>Life is delusional, a mesmerizing trap. We often lose track of time and we lose ourselves too. And then  the time comes to collect the pieces and move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it's time again. Time to move on.  Now I'll have to search for my soul. The disturbing part about this time is that while I was too busy fooling around with life, pleasing others, trying to impress others, I lost my soul too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I find my soul back it's time to start a new life. A new life with good old me. All of my life I have been busy thinking and caring about others. It always has been others success, others happiness, others life, what the other one is thinking about me, where I stand in others life and little I thought about myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But enough now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From now on it's my life. I would live it on my own. I am not going to give up my life for someone else. Let them think what they want to think. I don't need to change myself for someone who has little respect for me being me. I realized I can't change their opinion about me even if I die right in front of them saying how much they mean to me and how much I sacrificed for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They could see only if they had spared some time from their busy schedule of criticizing me, judging me and dissecting my every action. I can't change them and their habits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I accept myself as the way I am. That's first step to be contented. I changed myself for nothing. Now I will go back to myself again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love myself. I love others too. But without "I" the love has no value.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-76299686100470589?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/76299686100470589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=76299686100470589' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/76299686100470589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/76299686100470589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2010/09/its-time.html' title='It&apos;s time'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-6539783807054696122</id><published>2010-07-22T14:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T16:47:48.280-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lessons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love n hurt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Relationships in reality : It is so hard to say sorry</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;In reality, close-intimate relationship is not all about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;LOVE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;. It's more about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;LIKE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;. You can still love a person whom you don't like much. For example, in our teens we never like our parents but we still love them. But if you don't Like a person you are probably going to go away from that person or grow apart sooner or later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;We love most of our friends we make in our life. But we like few of them far more than others. They become best friends. And these likings are based on some trait, nature, or just something unknown we find in that particular person. Looks also play a big part in it. Not necessarily that the special person or that friend needs to be prince charming or beauty queen, but surely that person needs to have something special which might only we can see. It could be even something which doesn't exist in real life or in that person. It could be imaginary. And when we like that person we can do anything for that person/friend. Negative part of this liking is that sometime it feds away with time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A person might still love his/her gf/bf a lot but he/she might not like her/him as much as he/she used to. And when you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;don't like&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; the person much, the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;first thing which becomes so tough for you is to say sorry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; to that person when needed. And everything turns bitter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;Let us see a situation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; likes each other a lot. They love to spend time with each other. Almost all the time they are together. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;likes that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; is a bit mysterious and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; has lot of pain inside hiding which &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; never shares with others but when &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; shows interest in those things &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; allows that. Eventually &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; starts sharing those pains with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;. So &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; is always there for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; whenever &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; is vulnerable and sad because that makes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; feel important. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; finds &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; is most caring, loving and supportive person, just like the one &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; was looking for as a life partner. In a way &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; finds it charming and surprising from a person like &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; who is so careless when it comes to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;'s own emotion. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; finds it irresistible and starts liking &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; even more. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; being dreamy about life, starts expecting a lot from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; and builds a whole dreamland around &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;in no time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;Time passes by. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; grows into loving each other. Slowly they get to know each other more and more. Soon enough they become inseparable from each other. They can't think about staying away from each other even for a while. But unfortunately the charming mystery is gone from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; gets busy with other things and shows not much interest in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;'s life. And there is very little room for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;'s life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; turns into a boring daily routine in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;'s life. At least that's what it looks like.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;But &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; is still same. Still longing for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; to spend time together like before. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; gets tough time to cope up with this change in life. Just when &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; thought its gonna be the end of a lonely life, it takes a new turn. And back to square one. This adds to the other stress and sadness of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;already had.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; starts finding that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; is being nagging, irritating and so boring. Every time &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; feels hurt for some reason, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; finds it's the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; who is being "dramatic" and "irrational". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; takes it as ego clash when it comes to apologizing even when &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; is all down and says how hurting it is. And &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; even makes it look like as if &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; didn't play any part on that hurt and its &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; who is over-reacting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; even doesn't realize that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; might just needs &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;'s love and care at that moment and its not about winning over some ego and saying sorry is not going to make &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; degrading and that its not a game.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;Not realizing anything &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; goes distant. The issue remains unsolved. The hurt goes deeper.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;For that very reason when &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; comes back with fresh attention &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; is still hurt and sad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; can't forget how &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; reacted before. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; still needs a loving touch and a voice saying that it was not &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;'s fault that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; is hurt and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; is not making up stories to hurt &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;'s ego. And this disappoints &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;. Same story repeats.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;Meanwhile &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; wonders what went wrong. But there is no answer. Every time when &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; starts asking questions &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; finds it even more irritating and walks away. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; thinks about the times when &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; feels hurt for some reason how &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; says sorry easily. So now &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; can't figure out why &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; can't say sorry. From where the ego game is coming? What wrong has happened from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;'s side? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; doesn't know how to be mysterious again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; doesn't know if the charm is really gone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;And All these questions, answers still matters because &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; still likes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;. And there are chances that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; might still likes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;even though not as much as before.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;If &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; also starts disliking &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; then there would be no need for  solutions/advices. If both of the partners don't like each other that  separation can be dealt. Because feelings are mutual. But if one of the  partner still likes the other one then that hurts longer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;I have&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;three options for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; in my mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;1. Play mind game,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;   -   but how long that gonna last?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;2. Leave it to the time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;   -   what if it gets worse?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;3. Move on and Find &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;C/D/E/F/G/.../Z&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;   -    But same thing can happen again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;And for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; I have only one thing to say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;Just stop taking &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; for granted. And have the guts to take responsibility for the things/person matters to you. You are not a kid any more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;Readers, what do you suggest for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-6539783807054696122?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/6539783807054696122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=6539783807054696122' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/6539783807054696122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/6539783807054696122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2010/07/relationships-in-reality-it-is-so-hard.html' title='Relationships in reality : It is so hard to say sorry'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-6468566048982052947</id><published>2010-05-02T10:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T07:45:36.251-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Brother</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I was six-seven years old. My best friend, my maternal uncle left India for higher studies to Russia. And then my grandfather(his father) died with cancer very same year. Though my grand father's house was so far from my house and I could only go once in a while to visit them, still I started feeling so lonely. Couldn't deal with two separation. I missed them so much that I wished I had a brother. I remember I used to write letters to god saying “Oh God! Please give me a brother”.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  At that age I believed there was a god who would listen to my wish. &lt;/span&gt;I didn’t spare any note book I came across; I even didn’t spare my grandpa’s(father's father) medical prescription pad. That was the only time I ever asked for something or someone so desperately. I remember I used to search inside every pillow for a baby brother, I thought I might find him inside someday. I didn’t know where else he could be hiding. I knew for sure I have a brother somewhere hiding from me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Then it was my 9&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; birthday approaching. I was holding my best birthday gift in my life. He was the greatest gift I could ever get. I was holding my baby brother in my arms. I can still feel the joy I felt that day and then ever after. Nothing can beat that. I was holding my life. All of a sudden I grew up. I felt like a mother, elder sister, I felt like an adult. And from that day my life changed. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Life was like a song, life was like a dance in the rain. I never felt any need of any friend after having him around. We sang together, we danced together, we fought a lot, we tore each other apart, and then again we laughed our guts out over some silly reason. We completed each other’s sentence. We knew what was the other person thinking without even asking. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Spending few moments with each other talking or fighting, used to ease our daily life stress. We never needed any stress buster.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At least I never needed. Every night we had our chatting session. There was times when brother used to act a whole cartoon show if I missed any. Sometime I thought it was a torture to watch that whole crazy thing. Imagine I had to watch him acting a whole episode of Mr. Bean. But now those are the good memories I cherish. He filled my life with all the colors. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now, when I think of my life back I feel so desperate urge to go back and live those years again which I spent at home with my brother. If I close my eyes I can still see his tiny little fingers holding my finger, his rosy cheeks and lips glowing with a bright smile, his giggle, his baby talk in an alien language, or he is throwing his legs in the air with joy, or he is crying for some reason. I loved to watch him all the while. I watched him growing into a little man. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When I try to find any meaning of my life, any reason for what I should be alive, I always find him. If not for anything or anyone else I can even live thousands of painful years just because of him. I miss him a lot. I miss being at home. I miss us talking nonsense for hours. I miss we run to our grandpa together. I miss our winter, summer, spring, autumn, the whole year together. Oh how I miss living with him. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And now, I again feel lonely here living thousands of miles away from him. I feel depressed and stressed and I see there is no medicine or no entertainment or no stress buster can cure me. And this time I know for sure he is not hiding from me, it’s me who left him at home. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-6468566048982052947?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/6468566048982052947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=6468566048982052947' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/6468566048982052947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/6468566048982052947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-brother.html' title='My Brother'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-5422027998313406142</id><published>2010-01-11T14:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T15:12:24.541-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lessons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love n hurt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Escapade</title><content type='html'>When you have too much of something in your reach you tend to feel greedy and want more of it. You start expecting more and more from it. Soon you start feeling insecure and unreasonable. It is really not easy to have control over what you want all the time. So it is normal to feel this way. Specially when the source is so stable and reliable that even you might start taking it for granted sometime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Same happens with love. First you fall in love. You find yourself hopelessly in love. Then you build your world around it. You start expecting that your journey to the end won't be so lonely anymore. You often start feeling that this is what you were waiting for all your life. You start building your own dreamland without even  thinking that this might not be the  other person is expecting from life. Or may be both are expecting same things from life but in different way. May be your meaning of living life is completely different from each other. There it falls apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then when you realise you can't have it the way you want it, you can accept it at once and move on or you can just cry over it for sometime, like a child. But at the end you will have to accept it. Life teaches us its' lessons anyway. There is absolutely no way you can bunk the class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now when you face the truth that you will have to accept the truth what do you do?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/S0uvzXc3tyI/AAAAAAAAADY/cxReuS6iW30/s1600-h/run.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 232px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/S0uvzXc3tyI/AAAAAAAAADY/cxReuS6iW30/s320/run.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425623473101190946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I start feeling pity for myself. I feel hurt. I feel sad for myself. I even cry for being such a mess. I criticise myself like an enemy should. I feel angry for being so weak and dependent on others. And at the end I accept the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this is really very negative way to deal with hurt. Is there any way to minimise the hurt? There is, may be. I am still trying to find the way, the Escapade from hurt and self-criticism.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-5422027998313406142?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/5422027998313406142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=5422027998313406142' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/5422027998313406142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/5422027998313406142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2010/01/escapade.html' title='Escapade'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/S0uvzXc3tyI/AAAAAAAAADY/cxReuS6iW30/s72-c/run.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-7299248786695474081</id><published>2009-12-29T13:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T14:34:32.025-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love n friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love n humor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Love, one of a kind</title><content type='html'>"You are the most irritating person I have ever seen in my life, you know that?"&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Oh gawd! you are such a kid, what I'm gonna do with this grown up kid?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"You sicko! how many times I am gonna ask you to slow down and ride steady in this fucking traffic? I was almost dead. Damn you boy!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"How can someone forget such things? And how can you be so careless? Hell!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The list will go on and on. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hang on, there is a twist. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No matter how much I swear, how much I yell, how much I fight, there is no escape. I love you even more everyday. Its growing like a giant turning my whole world upside down. I am totally drowned into you Man.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I think about the most beautiful ocean in this world, I end up looking into your eyes.&lt;br /&gt;When I think about the most beautiful waterfall in this world, I remember your laughter.&lt;br /&gt;When I try to find an earthly comparison of the lovely moonlight, I see your smile.&lt;br /&gt;When I try to find the most secured place in this world, I find it in your arms.&lt;br /&gt;When I imagine a perfect or imperfect world of mine, I see that's not complete without you.&lt;br /&gt;And whenever I try to think of love, kindness, care, affection, happiness, I think of you.&lt;br /&gt;And every time at the end I find that I love you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was looking out for love everywhere around me. I was completely unaware of what I already got inside my heart for a long time. I was so tired of all these hide-n-seek games. And now, when I realize it was you and only you I was looking for all my life, all of my running around makes sense. It was worth it. Some price should be paid to have the priceless gift of life. I love everything about you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But then...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Where the hell were you for so many years? Couldn't you come into my life a bit early, you lazybone!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S: My quest of love, quest of life ends here right beside you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-7299248786695474081?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/7299248786695474081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=7299248786695474081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/7299248786695474081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/7299248786695474081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2009/12/love-one-of-kind.html' title='Love, one of a kind'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-592193156118207651</id><published>2008-11-23T06:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T04:11:46.488-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lessons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random thoughts'/><title type='text'>Blow a kiss, laugh out loud and goodbye to teardrops</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;We have all at some point in our lives had relationships with people who are negative, needy, or maybe even pessimistic. Such characters are often very good at keeping attention and energy focused on themselves. Those of us who strive to keep a positive outlook on life are especially vulnerable to these kind of people because such relationships can leave us feeling drained and depleted.&lt;/p&gt;I have experienced it many times with people even who are closest to me. I had tough time dealing with them. I felt miserable thinking about their situations and mine. I wished I could solve their problems, I wished I could help them. I felt helpless at times. But slowly I realised that in most of the cases it's not that they are having tough time in their life but it's because they love feeling miserable about things they can't or won't change. Then I stopped trying to heal or help them. It's not possible to help someone if  someone doesn't want to help him/herself. I have seen people love to cry over some issues for years, sometime whole life but they are not willing to change it. My point is what's the use of crying over something which you can solve by just moving on. Sometime I find myself stuck in same pattern and I feel angry on myself thinking that I fall in the same group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May be people love to feel miserable over some issue and blame that issue for all the misery in their life and feel good. For me the best solution is when you are alone and feeling terrible, shed some tears and then move on. But telling others about the tragedy in your life for hours and sulk or behave rude with others and then give excuse that your mood is bad because you have so much problems in your life is totally bullshit. Cut the crap man! Everyone has their problems and that's the reason we are here alive, to solve the problems in our life and help others. So why to punish others about something they are not responsible for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was in school I read one wonderful phrase somewhere. "jibontake knede bhashanor chaite heshe urano bhalo(Its better to blow your life with laughter than flooding with tears)". I try to follow it. Whenever I am with people I try to laugh. I hardly can count who has seen me crying. But I have seen many. More than I can count.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And an other point is there. If you have so many negative people around you and you interact with them regularly you tend to feel the same way. So stop giving  attention to those people more than they deserve. I am not saying you just dump them and go but keep a balance if you feel that they are harming your own stability. And also take care of not becoming one of them and make your close ones life hell by being negative and needy one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been listening to other's problems since I am a kid. The elders, I hate them for making me a victim about their mental pattern. Since then I find problem in everything, I sulk a lot about something negative around me, specially the things I can't change. But I didn't realise that I have also become one of them somehow. Though I don't sit and cry or make people listen to my problems but I complain a lot. How irritating it can be I know. I need to check my habit of complaining urgently. My brother told me about this bad habit of mine long back. Though he is 9 yrs younger than me but still he is much mature than me in many things. But I didn't care about what he was telling me at that time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have stopped being a "good listener" lately. If people think I have turned bad and selfish then let that be. I can't play it anymore. Someone (closest and The special one) made me realise that I need to first keep myself sane and emotionaly healthy then only I can help others. I am thankful to him for helping me and listening to my problems. He understood that most of my emotional problems are due to my miserable friends, relatives and their problems. And I took his advise positively and working on it. Now I feel much better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to blow kisses, laughter and baloons now. Goodbye to floody, soggy emotions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-592193156118207651?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/592193156118207651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=592193156118207651' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/592193156118207651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/592193156118207651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2008/11/blow-kiss-laugh-out-loud-and-goodbye-to.html' title='Blow a kiss, laugh out loud and goodbye to teardrops'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-912876325418284182</id><published>2008-06-18T05:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T06:02:31.662-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bangalore'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random thoughts'/><title type='text'>Long gap</title><content type='html'>Its been long I didn't post anything in my blog. Nearly 6 months, such a long time. Have been busy with everything else offline. Life has changed, seasons also, a lot. Grown older, mature and wise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But still one thing didn't change in my life. I still didn't learn to live without my brother. LOL... I would never learn. Neither I want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, right now after a long gap I am confused about what should I write here. So it would take some time to fill the gaps and fill the pages with my thoughts. Didn't feel like writing for so long here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will come back soon. Here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-912876325418284182?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/912876325418284182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=912876325418284182' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/912876325418284182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/912876325418284182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2008/06/long-gap.html' title='Long gap'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-2111519884999827706</id><published>2007-12-29T09:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T06:14:23.535-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Journey of an acrophobic</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;My travel gene finally got its share of pleasure. This Christmas I spent at Kodaikanal, a hill station in Tamilnadu. 12 hours journey by car with other 5 travel-freaks. It was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;9:30 p.m. 24th Dec, we started from Bangalore. I was not so excited since the thought of  sitting in the car for 12hrs was making me sick. I was worried about how I will control my nature-calls till that long. LOL. And then slowly I forgot my worries because I always like long drives at night. I was more concentrating in discovering the darkness outside. I was sitting in the middle. Wish I had got any of the corner seats. It was very cold also so I didn’t mind much.  I remembered I still couldn’t get film role for my analog camera. (I am old-fashioned still). Though I have camera on my cell phone.&lt;br /&gt;It was my mom’s birthday also. I missed being with my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was almost morning and I was half-asleep. Don’t remember when we exchanged seats. I was sitting on the right window. Was trying to open up my eyes for so long seeing some sign of hills in the far away sky-line, but all in vain. My neck was paining also. And then I let myself sleep more. Suddenly my eyes were open and I saw the huge giant was just in front of our car, Nilgiri hills. We started climbing and I shouted “finally”. And then I realised how much I was waiting for this trip, how much I was waiting for some mountain to climb up and explore. Since childhood I always preferred sea over mountain but lately I developed admiration for hills also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A giant to be explored, holding so many secrets inside; so silent, yet telling so many tales. Never comes to you, yet waits for you to go and talk to it. Pretends to be so serious like an old man, yet full of life like a child. That's mountain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally managed to wake myself up and get lost in the nature.  The view was awesome. We could see the waterfalls, lake, and small small towns like toys. The mountains were revealing themselves from the blankets of fog and clouds slowly. The different shades of green, the deep blue sky and the white cloud art in the sky... Romantic!!! that is the word came in my mind. Can’t help being a die-hard romantic. Sudden tinny streams were coming down from the cracks of the rocks and drenching the road. Sometime the signs of recent landslides were appearing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was fucking scary for me. I am an acrophobic and I have very awful balance as I feel. I even can fall in plain just like that. I don't need any reason to fall. So I was scared of falling there also. And it almost took my breathe away to look down. and took my breathe away in other sense also. It was so fucking beautiful! I felt I have seen heaven there. One Irish guy we met there who has been living there for almost last 10yrs. Where he stays really looked like a heaven to me and his comfortable movements/walk through the edge of the hill(even through the steep edges) made me skip my heartbeats. Phew. But still I would go back there again I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Didn't realise when the trip was over. Freaking cold, awsome homemade chocolates, amaging foods, wild nature...  all made me spellbound. I was so lost in it. The sky acted like a painter, changed its graphics every second and played with clouds all the while. Even at night it continued to play the game. While coming back and down it was fullmoon night. The city/villages down there formed a diamond necklace and the lake looked like a mirror to the sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And something else formed there in the trip, a bonding. Something started changing my life, may be forever. It left me confused and somewhat happy. But that's a different story. Tell you some other time.&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/33722486-2111519884999827706?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/2111519884999827706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=2111519884999827706' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/2111519884999827706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/2111519884999827706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/12/journey-of-acrophobic.html' title='Journey of an acrophobic'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-1834443043703383068</id><published>2007-12-19T23:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T23:47:13.436-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love n friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>To the special</title><content type='html'>I remember you in my dreams,&lt;br /&gt;you are sitting behind me, yet so far.&lt;br /&gt;Then from your back I embrace you,&lt;br /&gt;and something in your ears I mutter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can hear it if you ever just try,&lt;br /&gt;that I say how special you are for me.&lt;br /&gt;Knowing you don't need it from me I cry,&lt;br /&gt;But still I wish you get everything in your life&lt;br /&gt;and your Bee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-1834443043703383068?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/1834443043703383068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=1834443043703383068' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/1834443043703383068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/1834443043703383068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/12/to-special.html' title='To the special'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-6661813155108552377</id><published>2007-11-30T02:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T06:42:06.227-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love n hurt'/><title type='text'>Sparrow, sad sparrow!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Sparrow: I am just trying to keep this conversation alive... I always did... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;coz&lt;/span&gt; I know if I ever stop doing it we are never going to talk again...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Wild bird: I think so"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Sparrow: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hmmm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;... so we will never see each other again... right? :P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Wild bird: well  i think so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Sparrow: u r too blunt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Wild bird: i am always like that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;aint&lt;/span&gt; i?"&lt;br /&gt;.........................................&lt;br /&gt;Sparrow:&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;... i will leave u alone from now... will leave it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;upto&lt;/span&gt; u... if u ever feel like to talk buzz me...&lt;br /&gt;Wild bird: enjoy... as u wish...&lt;br /&gt;Sparrow: do u think it was my wish?&lt;br /&gt;Wild bird: i don't know&lt;br /&gt;Sparrow: u will never know....&lt;br /&gt;.....................................................&lt;br /&gt;Sparrow: but i wonder why i leave all my ego when its u... if it was someone else i wouldn't have talked again :((&lt;br /&gt;Wild bird: well and i wonder why i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; leave my ego when i talk with u:P"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Sparrow never understood why wild bird needed to be like that. She kept trying till she could keep this friendship alive.  The wild bird was not like this always. They have spent hours chatting online, writing poems, sometime arguing.  But things are changed after they met in real. She wondered why. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;She thought he might need space from everyone for a while and might be having some personal problem. But she found he talks nicely with everyone else but her. And then she reached the heights of her patience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She stopped buzzing him. She left him alone in peace since she felt he is no more willing to keep this friendship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt; Sparrow hardly mattered to him, so her friendship. Stupid sparrow!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, they never talked again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/33722486-6661813155108552377?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/6661813155108552377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=6661813155108552377' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/6661813155108552377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/6661813155108552377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/11/sparrow-sad-sparrow.html' title='Sparrow, sad sparrow!!!'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-8604364684886021028</id><published>2007-10-22T03:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T05:09:34.692-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bangalore'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random thoughts'/><title type='text'>Thirteen "Thoughts"</title><content type='html'>1. Everyone seems in a need for space from me. Never thought I do bother people so much. So I stopped talking to them almost. Hope they are happy with their space. But if they come complaining that I forgot them or being so selfish to not to remember them they will have my cold shoulder this time. I always keep in touch(always did) but that doesn't mean they can take me for granted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Whatever I try to grab or check seems to slip from my hand/grip. Be it a materialistic thing or relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I need my own space. I miss my home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Life is strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I met 'little bit of love' here in bangalore finally. We couldn't be good friends. Actually I couldn't be his. He was always a special friend of mine. Wish him all the best for his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Someone who was there in my life for a quite long time in virtual world, this time he is in my real life now. Things are turning crazy. I am losing grip or loving to float with it I don't know. I believe everything has an end so my only wish is that it should be a good ending.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Am I growing up finally? I am changing a lot from within. Turning matured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Lots of provocation here. Materialistic, physical. I am learning to live with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I will never learn to not to miss my brother much. I will never learn to live far from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Falling in love is so hard for me now. Love was never around me, near to me. I am tired waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. I don't like to get drenched in bangalore rain. To soothe first you need a burn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. I understand the accents of english songs easily now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. I believe we can only be there where we could be, where we should be and where we are supposed to be. Everything happens for some reason.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-8604364684886021028?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/8604364684886021028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=8604364684886021028' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/8604364684886021028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/8604364684886021028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/10/thirteen-thoughts.html' title='Thirteen &quot;Thoughts&quot;'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-1557617882465361738</id><published>2007-09-29T05:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-22T03:37:14.817-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bangalore'/><title type='text'>My traveler gene and dancing shoes</title><content type='html'>Its not even 2 months I am here and I already know places, bus routes, hang out areas, shopping malls, discs, streets, few bus conductor, driver by their faces. Quite fast I am. Even more than that I know trees on my way to office already. We girls at PG hang out here a lot. Or just chat till late. And we all have increasing desire for traveling to different places in near future. We make up plans for them and then finally go to sleep frustrated knowing its not happening so early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After canceling few trips we 3 from my room( I share my room with other 2 girls... one just graduated and the other one on her final year) decided to go to wonder la(www.wonderla.com) on that saturday. The graduated one (J) told us that it has craziest rides we have ever seen.  I was excited so much. And the other girl (R) most probably was bit tensed since she never have any experience of any kind of rides in her life. So finally we reached. The trip was expensive though, but we enjoyed a lot. And as expected R was literally crying for her life everytime she tried any ride. LOL. Most of the time we couldn't see each other's face so didn't know how exactly she was feeling. But when she sat beside me on some open ride then I saw her face. I was laughing out loud. Else I was screaming my lungs out with joy. It felt really great. J is like me. She was with me in all the rides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then after coming back we had terrible body pain. That was awful but was worth it. But I was yet not out of my energy. Next day in the afternoon I went to visit Laalbag. Walked for hours in sun there. I loved the lake. And then at night went to disc. Danced till late like maniac. Don't know from where I get all the energies. LOL. But yes... next day I was running out of proper sleep and rest so fell sick a bit. Had to take leave from office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems I became party animal for a while. Became a regular visitor at disk. Have been partying so much lately. Got introduced to a salsa dance-class group and by now we are also considered among them. These guys are really nice and decent people. Always thought party animals are not so good kind. But I was wrong. I love to dance so I love to be there at disc though I don't like much noise. But its ok for once in a while. As long as its not harming my health or work. Among all the discs I love Fuga most though it's the most unhealthy place, because firstly that's the place where for the first time I danced with that group. Secondly I love the coziness of the back corner of Fuga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I love my aching feet making moves continuously be it walking or dancing. I love my freedom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-1557617882465361738?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/1557617882465361738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=1557617882465361738' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/1557617882465361738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/1557617882465361738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/09/my-traveler-gene-and-dancing-shoes.html' title='My traveler gene and dancing shoes'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-5663760982498370650</id><published>2007-08-16T06:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-29T04:53:36.475-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bangalore'/><title type='text'>Life at bangalore!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;I have been away from my blog for a real long time. And there are lot of changes in my life I made. I spent all these days preparing for the changes and finally I am happy with it. Changed the job and city and that makes a lots of differences.  I have been feeling very pissed and drained about my life so I badly needed the change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Well, I am in bangalore now. The most wornderful weather I can expect in India. Everyone must be knowing it well whoever has visited this city. And who doesn't know I will suggest him/her to come here once at least. The city is green, romantic and calm by nature. People are mixed as it's a cosmo city now. Different language, different people but yet I don't feel much difference. It feels nice to explore this city everyday. Within 2 months of stay here I have travelled a lot, walked a lot to different places and I found this city is small enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking about people here, I found local people are a bit weird in nature. May be they are just different that's why I feel like this. I had bad experiences here too but that's not new to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I better make some list of things which I liked and disliked about this city. That will be easy for me to express.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I liked :&lt;br /&gt;1. Weather, greenery, breeze and everlasting spring. (I fell in love with it)&lt;br /&gt;2. Buses. (travel everyday and believe me its faaar better than calcutta)&lt;br /&gt;3. Music at pubs, disco. (actually got a group to enjoy there)&lt;br /&gt;4. My roommates. (they r best)&lt;br /&gt;5. My office colleagues. (my group and work culture can make u feel jealous)&lt;br /&gt;6. My small space at the PG. (just like me... at the corner, distant from other things in the room yet very much exists among them)&lt;br /&gt;7. The lake at lalbaag.&lt;br /&gt;8. The evening walks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(people who r wondering whts PG... its Paying Guest I mean)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I didn't like:&lt;br /&gt;1. People at bus. (they are weird... they love to stand on people's head pressing their butts)&lt;br /&gt;2. Things written in local language at bus, bus stop and having no translated form. (I often get confused man)&lt;br /&gt;3. Oily food at PG though it always tastes good.&lt;br /&gt;4. The indecent horny dog at PG.&lt;br /&gt;5. Some girls at PG. (specially who bangs the toilet/bathroom door when I am using it.)&lt;br /&gt;6. The road when it rains.(Bangalore is wavy at geographical nature so the water comes down like river through the road always)&lt;br /&gt;7.  Showing off people around. (My goodness they always dress like they are going to some party.)&lt;br /&gt;8. Not much life other than going to pub, disc, shopping mall here.&lt;br /&gt;9. People are not bothered about what is happening to other people around. All they can do is to give a stare.&lt;br /&gt;10. Perverted guys are everywhere in this world. So can't blame much.(guys don't take personally)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But apart from all these I made friends here. I am enjoying everyday of my stay here. That's the most important thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:85%;" &gt;(I started to write this post long back... now today(29th sept) somehow I finished it.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-5663760982498370650?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/5663760982498370650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=5663760982498370650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/5663760982498370650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/5663760982498370650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/08/life-at-bangalore.html' title='Life at bangalore!'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-4019292714346503560</id><published>2007-04-18T00:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:55:25.609-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random thoughts'/><title type='text'>My life at large</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;People say I am weird, impractical, unrealistic. I agree with them. They say I am stupid enough to live in my dreamland. I agree again. But when they say I should be practical, wise and behave like a grown up I don't agree. Why should I change myself? What will I get if I change myself? Won't I lose all the happiness I get by dreaming. What will I get here in real world? Hatred, stress, dirty power game, and enough frustrations of getting old? I don't need them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;You can call me hopelessly romantic. I agree. Life is all about romanticism for me. They say I am not professional. Well I don't want to be. If leaving all the romanticism and always running after success is professinalism I don't want to be a professional. Success may give you ego boost but never can give you that kind of happiness which I get from watching the moon. Or watching the glittering lake water in the afternoon. Or even watching the kissing birds. Can anything else give me that level of pleasure?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;The way I want to live my life seems weird to others. I wish I stay awake all night watching the moon, twinkling stars, darkness. I feel I am a part of it. I feel most comfortable in darkness of the night. I hate sunlight, how rough it is on my eyes. In darkness all my senses starts working, I feel, I touch, I smell, I taste, I see. Yes I see too. I see the world more beautiful in darkness, more peaceful, more romantic. I taste the sweetness of cold dark night. I kiss to feel the bliss. I kiss dark night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;What's wrong there if I wish to have a long walk at late night? What's wrong if I wish to fly through the road in the middle of a jungle on a bike. Alas I can't ride it myself. Wish I was big enough for a bike. LOL. To be happy I need to do weird things. Normal things makes me bored enough. The life of Tarzan fascinates me. I wish I could live like him. But I am so much habituated with this mechanic world that I won't be able to live that way either.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;When I miss my bus I wish I could jump like Spider Man. And I jump. Jump at the top of the bus and then slide inside. People get scared though. But I can't help. When I see birds preaching I wish I could understand their language. And then I talk to them. But most of the time they get scared and fly away. Poor me, still not good enough to talk their language. Once I asked a squirrel that why he is always in a hurry. He said he is too busy to answer a human. Sad! I wish I was not a human.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;Since I'm already a human I can't help all these but I can dream. Whenever I wish. One day I wish to live in a small white beach house in a lonely island full of trees and hills far away from this real world, where all my dreams will come true. Till then I keep dreaming. Please don't wake me up. I don't want to miss a single moment of my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/RiXjG_BwqfI/AAAAAAAAABE/W8cpBNACtP8/s1600-h/3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054695865930787314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/RiXjG_BwqfI/AAAAAAAAABE/W8cpBNACtP8/s320/3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/RiXiZfBwqdI/AAAAAAAAAA0/PLnIoSQxh50/s1600-h/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054695084246739410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/RiXiZfBwqdI/AAAAAAAAAA0/PLnIoSQxh50/s320/1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/RiXjXvBwqgI/AAAAAAAAABM/2zg6f5V2-LY/s1600-h/2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054696153693596162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/RiXjXvBwqgI/AAAAAAAAABM/2zg6f5V2-LY/s320/2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;Dreamland&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Isn't this old night so nice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;I hope you can feel what I feel tonight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Little boy's not getting it right&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Trying so hard with all his might&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Clouds in the sky keeping the sun away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Doesn't mean the sun isn't shining today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Seems something's always in your way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;You've got a wide, wide array&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Of insurmountable problems every day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Slip away, slide away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Into dreamland&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Slip away, slide away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Into dream, dreamland&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;In your own private place of dreams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;I hope you'll find a place where it seems&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;The road is always straight and true&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Wherever you walk is bright for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;I hope you'll remember these times we share&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Hope you'll find some comfort there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;In the meantime lose your cares&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;You can go anywhere, close your eyes and it will take you there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slip away, slide away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Into dreamland&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Gonna cherish my time with you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Gonna smile, smile the whole world day through&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Wake up tomorrow maybe you'll find&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Darkness gone from your mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Want you to be what you want to be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Don't want you to ever hurt like me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Smiling through the saddest times&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Could only happen in dreams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;I wonder is it as nice as it seems&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Slip away, slide away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Into dreamland&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Maybe you'll get your wishes in dreams this night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Because I can't seems to do it here in real life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Mayhe you'll get your wishes in dreams this night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Because I can't seem to help you here in real life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/RiXnuvBwqhI/AAAAAAAAABU/v05NPebpL0g/s1600-h/200467693-001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054700946877098514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/RiXnuvBwqhI/AAAAAAAAABU/v05NPebpL0g/s320/200467693-001.jpg" 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/33722486-4019292714346503560?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/4019292714346503560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=4019292714346503560' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/4019292714346503560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/4019292714346503560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/04/my-life-at-large.html' title='My life at large'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/RiXjG_BwqfI/AAAAAAAAABE/W8cpBNACtP8/s72-c/3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-3300537982189803709</id><published>2007-04-13T07:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T00:22:54.046-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Someday may be...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Someday I will sleep... Sleep in peace... Will sleep in your arms... The warmth I need, the peace I need, I know its there in your arms... And only in your arms... I will hide there from this crazy outside world forever... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And then your kiss will touch my forehead... the bliss of your love will run through my each and every vein... I will sense it in my blood... Sense you inside of me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then You will embrace me with your loving arms... I will hold you more close to me... and then I will sleep... a peaceful sleep...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My quest of love, quest of life will end there in your arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-3300537982189803709?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/3300537982189803709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=3300537982189803709' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/3300537982189803709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/3300537982189803709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/04/someday-may-be.html' title='Someday may be...'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-1119321891562483207</id><published>2007-04-10T05:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T06:58:30.421-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random thoughts'/><title type='text'>I am pissed</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Today I'm feeling very pissed. Nothing seems satisfying to me now. Specially my career.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I am feeling I'm not happy with my job anymore. Well office environment is fine, and so my boss/best friend. Actually I am stuck here for him only. He supported me with job when I was facing so much  trouble in my personal and professional life. But I'm not learning much from my work anymore. Sometimes I even feel I am not going to right direction many be. I love my job which is creative but I couldn't make it success yet. Like I made many designs while I'm working with Sandy but most of them got rejected. I felt so depressed at times. But that was ok. It's a process of learning and developing my skill I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But still something is missing I feel. I wish I knew what it is. Here I will try to figure out the reasons...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Long hours of travelling makes me sick mentally/physically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I gotta travel for long hours everyday to reach my office which is very frustrating. Like someday after work I might feel like to hit my home and relax but no luck with me. Can't reach home before the distance kills me for 2 hours everyday. Or else when I start with fresh mind from home for work in the morning the journey ditches my mood. I am pissed when I reach office. Well that's life now. And the worst is the quickest bus/route I could take makes me wait for 1 hour sometimes. Hell!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. The sight of few of my colleagues irritates me to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I agree this is the story everywhere. But I worked with others before. No one could make me this sick yet. But I'm so unfortunate I sit beside them only and I gotta interact with them everyday. I feel sick whenever I think of them.&lt;br /&gt;("Give me a break please" *Cries out loud* )&lt;br /&gt;Problem is I can't stand stupid people. And these people are worst than that. And not only stupid but they are sick actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Not being able to learn from my senior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel bored with my job when I don't learn anything. And its also boring when all you got to learn yourself. I prefer learning others ideas rather than copy pasting from net. And I don't have anyone here for that matter. I learn a lot from Sandy but he is not a designer either. I need to be with other designers to learn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. The space at my office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always prefer to work/study in a corner or some place where no one can disturb me. But I sit just in the middle of everyone at office. Which sometimes drives me crazy. I hate people interrupting me in the middle of my work giving me lecture on what color I should use, which design is better than this blah blah blah. Come on man... why don't you design then? Take my sit. I challenge you I will do your job given a chance and time i.e. programming, only that I don't like them at all else I have full confidence on my brain. But you can't become a designer all of a sudden dear. Get a life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. My hippie nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like to stay anywhere for long. It makes me feel depressed and bored. I guess that's silly but can't really help it. I am like this only. Always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Didn't get a long holiday since long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every time I planned for it something ruined it. So no luck with me I feel. I need to cut up from everything for at least 7 days I feel. And catch up some reading, music, movies to refresh my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So these are few reasons I could figure out right at this moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some solutions I could think of right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Change of job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I doubt on that. I need to handle my home front(mum's operation) now so I guess it will be trouble for me to change my job at this moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Change the city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Same like above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Learn something new related to my work or something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that would work but I lack the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Shift to some pg near to my office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Impossible. reason is same like 1., 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish to get some changes in my life soon. Else it will be all messy again I feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now my personal life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mum is going to go for surgery soon. Then I have to manage a hell lot of things. And considering my office hours I am scared thinking how I will do it. I am not used to with all this house keeping and all. I realise now how hectic it is for mum, and how she has been doing it all these years. It is not easy to be a mother. Specially when your hubby is like an immature kid. That's the main problem you know. I am horrified thinking how I will manage it all alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways... that's life again. I will face it too. But the clash between my personal life and professional life is going to be worst among all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well... I'm all game for it now. Lets face it too Dear Life.&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/33722486-1119321891562483207?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/1119321891562483207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=1119321891562483207' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/1119321891562483207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/1119321891562483207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-am-pissed.html' title='I am pissed'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-2942896065385743297</id><published>2007-03-31T14:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T05:49:23.271-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>My ideal match</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Peter Pan... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;who is my happy thought, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;who gives me wings to fly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;who brings me rain in drought,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;who takes me to the high.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;he will come and grow up, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and be my man... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Peter Pan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-2942896065385743297?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/2942896065385743297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=2942896065385743297' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/2942896065385743297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/2942896065385743297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/03/my-ideal-match.html' title='My ideal match'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-5093982136891754322</id><published>2007-03-27T02:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T03:40:52.895-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love n hurt'/><title type='text'>You love someone else</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="txt_1"&gt;There was nothing to say&lt;br /&gt;When you pulled her into your arms&lt;br /&gt;Having me watch, wasn't easy&lt;br /&gt;I held my love in deeply&lt;br /&gt;All i could be was just your friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then before i knew it&lt;br /&gt;I was watching you love&lt;br /&gt;Someone else that really was a good friend too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching you love someone else&lt;br /&gt;Really hurts my love&lt;br /&gt;You don't even know how I feel&lt;br /&gt;The rain will never stop falling&lt;br /&gt;Drifting away like I am feeling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, yea my love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like a flash I became your best friend&lt;br /&gt;You found out that the one you really love&lt;br /&gt;She didn't love you at all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching you love someone else&lt;br /&gt;Really hurts my love&lt;br /&gt;You don't even know how I feel&lt;br /&gt;The rain will never stop falling&lt;br /&gt;Drifting away like I am feeling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told you so many things&lt;br /&gt;You wouldn't probly wouldn't understand&lt;br /&gt;I tried to tell you&lt;br /&gt;You knew how i felt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching you love someone else&lt;br /&gt;Really hurts my love&lt;br /&gt;You don't even know how I feel&lt;br /&gt;The rain will never stop falling&lt;br /&gt;Drifting away like I am feeling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;watching the one I love, love someone else&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-5093982136891754322?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/5093982136891754322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=5093982136891754322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/5093982136891754322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/5093982136891754322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/03/you-love-someone-else.html' title='You love someone else'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-8915349558821384789</id><published>2007-03-05T01:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T05:47:08.327-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love n friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>He is my soul mate</title><content type='html'>I have been waiting for him all my childhood, all my teenage, until now. I have been missing him in all aspects of my life. I missed him when I played alone. I missed him whenever I was  left alone by all my relations at times. I missed him when I needed someone to share my pains. I missed him when I cried alone. I missed him always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I didn't know it clearly. I thought I am weird, different from everyone else I know. People called myself a loner. I agreed I'm. I loved to be alone always. I loved to believe I am strong enough to fight the battle of life. But still I thought it would be good to have someone who would stand by me always and who would make me feel complete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I found him. He is the other part of my soul I was missing all my life. He is my soul mate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel alone anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-8915349558821384789?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/8915349558821384789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=8915349558821384789' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/8915349558821384789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/8915349558821384789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/03/he-is-my-soul-mate.html' title='He is my soul mate'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-2270987906630213125</id><published>2007-03-02T02:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-03T13:54:02.309-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lessons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>You gotta live your life</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;you gotta live your life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; ah to the fullest&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;always have  in mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;that your the coolest&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;represent hard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and come legit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dont let them other suckers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;wanna make you quit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ah wanna make you quit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ah wanna make you quit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dont let them other suckers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;wanna make you quit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dont think of the future&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;or of the past&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;life flows&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;as it goes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dont get there fast&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;may all your craves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and dreams come true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dont need to rush&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;let it come to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;lots of obsticles in life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;that you need to know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;they get stuck in your head&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;just let it go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;today's the day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;right now's the time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dwelling on before&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;now thats a crime&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;tomorrow maybe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;another day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dont know if you live or die&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;but you know today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;be careful of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;the next step you make&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;live to the fullest&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;it might be the last you take&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-2270987906630213125?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/2270987906630213125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=2270987906630213125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/2270987906630213125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/2270987906630213125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/03/you-gotta-live-your-life.html' title='You gotta live your life'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-1792124344257852132</id><published>2007-02-28T04:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-28T04:57:40.720-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love n friendship'/><title type='text'>To my "Little Bit Of Love"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Hi,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I saw you in my dream today morning. You were here with me in my city. It seemed to me we were enjoying a lot. I  was showing you places. And then there was a moment when I was trying to express through some body sign or something(i couldn't gather or remember) that I like you but you acted like an ignorant though you were enjoying and understanding every bit of emotions I was feeling for you. You smiled alone but you couldn't hide it from me as it was my dream(lol).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Well when I am awake I don't feel anything strong or unstable for you. In short I never feel crazy about you. But still I go back to you again and again. May be that is because I never expect anything back from you. Not even a life long friendship anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;But who knows what is there in my subconscious mind. I am not worried about it either. Because I know if something is there that will remain and never punish me. Because This time it is different. Different from every feelings I have been through or I have known. I felt bliss and found an endless sky to fly around.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;The only thing I don't like is when I talk and you don't. Now you don't give me your silence even.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Now you are like those contented silent mountains for me to whom I can just stare. I can't reach you or share things with you coz you are a faraway friend now. But I don't regret feeling for you. For the first time my silence found an other silence so it will remain there always till my memory ditches me physically.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I will remain a friend forever. Thanks for everything and every moments we shared.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Warm regards,&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/33722486-1792124344257852132?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/1792124344257852132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=1792124344257852132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/1792124344257852132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/1792124344257852132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/02/to-my-little-bit-of-love.html' title='To my &quot;Little Bit Of Love&quot;'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-2393621672040577831</id><published>2007-02-27T04:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T05:46:13.438-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>How can a man know what a woman's life is?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How can a man know what a woman's life is? A woman's life is quite different from a man's.  A man is the same from the time of circumcision to the time of his withering. He is the same before he has sought out a woman for the first time, and afterwards. But the day a woman enjoys her first love cuts her in two. She becomes another woman on that day. The man is the same after his first love as he was before. The woman is from the first day of her first love another. That continues all through life. The man spends a night by a woman and goes away. His life and body are always the same. The woman conceives. As a mother she is another person than the woman without a child. She carries the fruit of her womb for nine long months in her body. Something grows. Something grows into her life that never again departs from it. She is a mother. She is and remains a mother even though her child dies, though all her children die. For at one time she carried the child under her heart. And it does not go out of her heart ever again. Not even when it is dead. All this the man does not know; he knows nothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-2393621672040577831?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/2393621672040577831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=2393621672040577831' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/2393621672040577831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/2393621672040577831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/02/how-can-man-know-what-womans-life-is.html' title='How can a man know what a woman&apos;s life is?'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-929094143959808648</id><published>2007-02-23T03:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T01:38:15.310-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Love, as you feel like</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love is love as long as you consider it to be love. That is all that is required. Perception is reality.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You can be happy even if your life is a wreck, and everything is falling apart, as long as you feel like you're happy.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You can be in love even if you have nothing in common with someone and have no real mutual understanding, as long as you feel like you're in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel I am in love but I am not sure why I feel this way. I feel the bliss of Love often now. I feel so happy with myself. When I watch lovers in any movie or in real life I feel so happy for them. And I feel great that at least I can feel the warmth of love around me. No matter if I don't have any so called boyfriend. I have got many friends with whom I can share my life or my family who is always there beside me. I feel lucky enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this world now. I love my life and people around me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in love. Love with myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-929094143959808648?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/929094143959808648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=929094143959808648' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/929094143959808648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/929094143959808648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/02/love-as-you-feel-like.html' title='Love, as you feel like'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-26615676076405594</id><published>2007-02-22T11:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T12:35:58.331-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"I Walk Alone"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't take this anymore&lt;br /&gt;And I'm almost pretty sure&lt;br /&gt;I've been here before&lt;br /&gt;I can't take this any longer&lt;br /&gt;I won't heal until I'm stronger&lt;br /&gt;Strong enough to not be afraid&lt;br /&gt;Of what anybody thinks&lt;br /&gt;Of what anybody says&lt;br /&gt;About the way&lt;br /&gt;About the way I am&lt;br /&gt;So I'll wait until the day&lt;br /&gt;When those feelings fade away&lt;br /&gt;Then I'll make my break&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't take this anymore&lt;br /&gt;And I'm almost pretty sure&lt;br /&gt;I've been here before&lt;br /&gt;I can't take this any longer&lt;br /&gt;I won't heal until I'm stronger&lt;br /&gt;Strong enough to not be afraid&lt;br /&gt;So I leave it up to you&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I leave it in your hands&lt;br /&gt;Respect your wishes and your demands&lt;br /&gt;But if it was up to me&lt;br /&gt;Honey we'd already be back at home&lt;br /&gt;And living out our dreams&lt;br /&gt;Living out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody and everything I've known&lt;br /&gt;Never taught me how to stand up on my own&lt;br /&gt;Had to learn it from the one who let me go&lt;br /&gt;Now I walk alone, yeah I walk alone, yeah&lt;br /&gt;Living blissfully&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess you had to step away&lt;br /&gt;To make me want to be&lt;br /&gt;A bigger man, a bigger man than that&lt;br /&gt;I need you by my side&lt;br /&gt;As I take it all in stride&lt;br /&gt;I put away, I put away my pride&lt;br /&gt;Oh I leave it up to you&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I leave it in your hands&lt;br /&gt;Respect your wishes and your demands&lt;br /&gt;But if it was up to me&lt;br /&gt;Honey we'd already be back at home&lt;br /&gt;And living out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody and everything I've known&lt;br /&gt;Never taught me how to stand up on my own&lt;br /&gt;Had to learn it from the one who let me go&lt;br /&gt;Now I walk alone&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I walk alone, yeah&lt;br /&gt;I walk alone&lt;br /&gt;I walk alone&lt;br /&gt;I walk alone&lt;br /&gt;I walk alone&lt;br /&gt;I walk, oh yeah&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/33722486-26615676076405594?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/26615676076405594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=26615676076405594' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/26615676076405594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/26615676076405594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/02/i-walk-alone.html' title='&quot;I Walk Alone&quot;'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-6575461691349792861</id><published>2007-02-12T12:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-10T14:04:18.827-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Maula mere, maula mere...  Film: Anwar</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;maula mere, maula mere maula mere, maula mere….&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;aankhein teri, kitni haseen&lt;br /&gt;ki inka aashiq, mein ban gaya hoon&lt;br /&gt;mujhko basa le, inme tu&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;ishq hai…&lt;br /&gt;maula mere, maula mere maula mere, maula mere…..&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;ishq hai…&lt;br /&gt;maula mere, maula mere maula mere, maula mere…..&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;ishq hai…&lt;br /&gt;maula mere, maula mere maula mere, maula mere…..&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;ki inka aashiq, mein ban gaya hoon&lt;br /&gt;mujhko basa le, inme tu&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;mujhse yeh har ghadi, mera dil kahe&lt;br /&gt;tum hi ho uski aarzoo,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;mujhse yeh har ghadi, mere  lab kahe&lt;br /&gt;teri hi ho sab guftagoo&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;baatein teri itni haseen, mein yaad inko jab karta hoon&lt;br /&gt;phoolon si aaye, khusboo&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Rakh loon chhupa ke mein kahin tujhko&lt;br /&gt;saaya bhi tera na main doon&lt;br /&gt;rakh loon bana ke kahin ghar, mein tujhe&lt;br /&gt;saath tere, mein hi rahoon&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;julfen teri, itni ghani&lt;br /&gt;dekh ke inko, yeh sochta hoon&lt;br /&gt;saaye me, inke mein jiyoon&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;ishq hai…&lt;br /&gt;maula mere, maula mere maula mere, maula mere…..&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;ishq hai…&lt;br /&gt;maula mere, maula mere maula mere, maula mere…..&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;ishq hai…&lt;br /&gt;maula mere, maula mere maula mere, maula mere…..&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;mera dil yahi bola, mera dil yahi bola,&lt;br /&gt;yaara raaj yeh usne hai mujh par khola&lt;br /&gt;ki hai ishq mohabbat, jiske dil main&lt;br /&gt;usko pasand karta hai maula&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;mera dil yahi bola, mera dil yahi bola,&lt;br /&gt;yaara raaj yeh usne hai mujh par khola&lt;br /&gt;ki hai ishq mohabbat, jiske dil main&lt;br /&gt;usko pasand karta hai maula&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-6575461691349792861?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/6575461691349792861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=6575461691349792861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/6575461691349792861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/6575461691349792861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/02/maula-mere-maula-mere-film-anwar.html' title='Maula mere, maula mere...  Film: Anwar'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-2868036139015740051</id><published>2007-02-10T07:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T05:41:25.328-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random thoughts'/><title type='text'>Existence</title><content type='html'>Sometime I feel like to disappear. Disappear in darkness. Want to feel the feeling of not being anything, feeling of not living any life, feeling of not being alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it doesn't feel anything with no existence. That's why I stop myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-2868036139015740051?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/2868036139015740051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=2868036139015740051' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/2868036139015740051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/2868036139015740051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/02/existence.html' title='Existence'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-2134386108500734451</id><published>2007-02-08T03:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-31T04:40:19.088-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If You Think You Know How To Love Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;A breathless drive on a downtown street&lt;br /&gt;Motorbike ride in the mid-day heat&lt;br /&gt;The dust that hung from the desert skies&lt;br /&gt;Run, though we run it still burned our eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, yes we can walk on the wild, wild side of life&lt;br /&gt;And our movements traced by a stranger close by your side&lt;br /&gt;And in the shadows of a promise, you can take my hand&lt;br /&gt;And show me the way to understand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you think you know how to love me&lt;br /&gt;And you think you know what I need&lt;br /&gt;And if you really, really want me to stay&lt;br /&gt;You've got to lead the way&lt;br /&gt;Yes, if you think you know how to love me&lt;br /&gt;And you think you can stand by me&lt;br /&gt;And if you really, really want me to stay&lt;br /&gt;You've got to lead the way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A reckless night in a nameless town&lt;br /&gt;And we moved out of sight, with a silent sound&lt;br /&gt;A beach that wept with deserted waves&lt;br /&gt;That's where we slept, knowing we'd be safe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now you may think you can walk on the wild, wild side with me&lt;br /&gt;But there's a lot I can learn, and a lot that I've yet to see&lt;br /&gt;You know you've got my life lying in your hands&lt;br /&gt;It's up to you to make me understand.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-2134386108500734451?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/2134386108500734451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=2134386108500734451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/2134386108500734451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/2134386108500734451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/02/if-you-think-you-know-how-to-love-me.html' title='If You Think You Know How To Love Me'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-4353743294560195287</id><published>2007-01-31T00:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-10T08:43:30.418-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A dark evening</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold;"&gt;8:30 pm, Eastern Metropolitan Bypass. An almost crowded bus is running at its best speed as I could expect here. This bus is very tiny compared to other buses so the crowd is not much pathetic. I got a comfortable seat beside a window. The person sitting beside me is so irritating. He is wearing a full-sleeve sweater and expecting me to keep the window glass open for him or exchange the seat with him. It’s not cold today but still can't really open the window for someone who can't remove his sweater and be sensible. What a Jerk!! Sometimes people are really very annoying at bus/train. I should keep my cool though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold;"&gt;I am trying to gaze at outside. It’s dark out there. I wish I could see some stars now, or at least the moon. City-lights hardly allow me. I wish I could just run away from this city right now.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly I feel something strange. Is the darkness trying to tell me something? Did I hear my name just now? Is someone calling out my name? Is there someone really? I try hard to recognize the darkness. It’s so blurry. I hear it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;“Oh I’m coming there.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;“Wait, wait for me please”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold;"&gt;I feel so light, almost weightless. The window is clear now. I touch the glass. My fingers go through the glass, then my hand, then my head… then my whole body. I move towards the darkness. Someone is waiting for me there, there behind the trees, which I see everyday. I have to go past them. And then there is the huge open land, covered with green vegetables. The smell of the soil intoxicates my senses. I feel high. I float around a bit. I suddenly realize I’m flying. I’m flying like a bird. I don’t have my hands anymore. I have got two little dark wings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are twinkling lights I can see from faraway places like a diamond &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;necklace. The darkness is cold. I float around but no one is there. Oh there I hear it again. Someone is calling my name again. I follow my instinct. I fly and follow. And there they come. I reached the fairy land. All the fairies with soft, glittering white wings singing a song and dancing. Chorus. They ask me to dance with them. "Its wonderful", I say. "Were you calling me?".&lt;br /&gt;"Yes Swati, welcome home".&lt;br /&gt;"Is that? Is that really? Is it my home?" I scream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes. Whenever you feel lonely, depressed, pissed and meaningless we have a home for you. Your home of dreamland. Here all of your dreams come true. We are family."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Family? Then howcome my wings are dark and your are white and so beautiful?" I ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh dear! It doesn't matter what the color it is. It matters how strong it is. All it meant for flying and nothing else. Don't you like dark nights? Don't you like black clothes? Then how it does matter? Dark is beautiful too", The fairy says smiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh I wish I knew it before. I wouldn't have been so sad ever then." I cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I mingle with them. I dance. I sing. I fly. I dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello ma'am. Come on. Were not you supposed to get down at this stopage? Hurry!!" The conductor shouts angrily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I come back to the real world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see there is no wings at my back. Neither White nor black.&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/33722486-4353743294560195287?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/4353743294560195287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=4353743294560195287' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/4353743294560195287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/4353743294560195287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/01/dark-evening.html' title='A dark evening'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-1471011881109558344</id><published>2007-01-30T02:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-10T06:31:59.043-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If you were told...your last day on earth</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;If you were told (perhaps by some superior influence) that tomorrow is your last day on Earth, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204,204);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;1. What accomplishments in your life would you be proud of?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family:georgia;" &gt;friends i have made... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;2. What would you be regretful of?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;only one regret i have... i wished i still continued my chess career and become a good chess player&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;3. Do you think you were on the correct path for Salvation and if so what is that path that you followed so far?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;what is salvation? i don't believe in it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;4. How would you spend your last day on Earth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;will say goodbye to everyone i care and love... and then lets have a party... yo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;5. Would you be content when you take your last breath and why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;yes... coz nothing really matters at the end&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/33722486-1471011881109558344?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/1471011881109558344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=1471011881109558344' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/1471011881109558344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/1471011881109558344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/01/if-you-were-told-perhaps-by-some.html' title='If you were told...your last day on earth'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-8734420804975605565</id><published>2007-01-27T02:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:55:25.864-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Dream Lover</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He was standing there on the platform with his friend, talking. I was walking fast to reach my place where I stand every time when I catch metro. I just looked at him and walked past. It seemed he looked at me too. He was tall, decent looking guy. Sometime when you see someone f&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;or the first time and suddenly start feeling so comfortable and start liking the person for no particular reason&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;, sometime that happens. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I liked something about this guy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;After 2-3 mins the train came. While standing he was facing his back at me so we didn't have any eye contact yet. Well I am very bad in remembering all these you see, still I can remember he was wearing dark colored shirt and casual jeans, which was pretty decent. He didn't bother much about any fancy or funky dresses which seemed very attractive to me. I sat down there where I sit everyday. He took the corner seat beside the door so that I could see him. I liked tha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;t (lol). The train started moving towards the next stoppage. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He was talking to his friend and playing with his mobile phone. It started being a bit crowded too. Few girls sat around me and one was standing right the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/Rbs6lvb9UmI/AAAAAAAAAAg/cl-PzojF2ls/s1600-h/dreamlover.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/Rbs6lvb9UmI/AAAAAAAAAAg/cl-PzojF2ls/s200/dreamlover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024674229325222498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;re on my shoulder though she could just sit. So irritating. I was feeling uncomfort&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ble and was sitting uneasy and my face was having that expression too I guess. He just looked at me then. OH MY GOD. I skipped my breath a bit. His eyes!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;That could kill me anytime. His gray-hazel eyes (errr... hope its not his lenses :P &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;). I couldn't stare at him, as I felt a bit shy. But I was thinking he could be a Holl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ywood hero any day. He was kind of shy. Never&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; looked around. Most of the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; time he was staring at his mobile and talking to his friend (yes I was looking at him sometime). Then he closed his eyes for a while. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I always keep looking here and there when I travel in metro rail coz there is nothing to look outside and I hardly get anything to stare at continuously. But I found myself feeling good to watch him and I couldn't stop watching him. I didn't want to stop that either ;) . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Then He looked at me again. I was wondering  what was there in his mind. I was falling in love with him, falling in love with his eyes, his cute face and a decent body language. And the clear, pure, decent stare he was giving me. I was just falling in love. I was feeling something really strange, as if I have known this guy all my life. As if I have seen him in my dreams many times before. Those eyes...  said it all. I felt this is my dream lover and I finally met him. Then it was time for him to go. He reached his destination. And he left. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I wished to see him again even knowing that this is not possible. I know I will never see him again. But I met him. Sometime that matters a lot. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;At least I can tell this story to my grandchildren when they ask me what is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;falling in love at first sight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Your Eyes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; As We Said Our Goodbyes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Can't Get Them Out Of My Mind &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; And I Find I Can't Hide (From) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Your Eyes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; The Ones That Took Me By Surprise &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; The Night You Came Into My Life &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Where There's Moonlight &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I See Your Eyes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; How'd I Let You Slip Away &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; When I'm Longing So To Hold You &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Now I'd Die For One More Day &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; 'Cause There's Something I Should &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Have Told You &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Yes There's Something I Should Have &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Told You &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; When I Looked Into Your Eyes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Why Does Distance Make Us Wise? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; You Were The Song All Along &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; And Before The Song Dies &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I Should Tell You I Should Tell You &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I Have Always Loved You &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; You Can See It In My Eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&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/33722486-8734420804975605565?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/8734420804975605565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=8734420804975605565' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/8734420804975605565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/8734420804975605565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/01/dream-lover.html' title='Dream Lover'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/Rbs6lvb9UmI/AAAAAAAAAAg/cl-PzojF2ls/s72-c/dreamlover.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-4642718878073376511</id><published>2007-01-24T03:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-29T23:19:23.568-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Dear my love</title><content type='html'>Dear my love, haven't you wanted to be with me&lt;br /&gt;And dear my love, haven't you  longed to be free&lt;br /&gt;I can't keep pretending that I don't even know you&lt;br /&gt;And  at sweet night, you are my own&lt;br /&gt;Take my hand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're leaving here  tonight&lt;br /&gt;There's no need to tell anyone&lt;br /&gt;They'd only hold us down&lt;br /&gt;So by  the morning light&lt;br /&gt;We'll be half way to anywhere&lt;br /&gt;Where love is more than  just your name&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have dreamt of a place for you and I&lt;br /&gt;No one knows who  we are there&lt;br /&gt;All I want is to give my life only to you&lt;br /&gt;I've dreamt so long  I cannot dream anymore&lt;br /&gt;Let's run away, I'll take you there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forget this  life&lt;br /&gt;Come with me&lt;br /&gt;Don't look back you're safe now&lt;br /&gt;Unlock your  heart&lt;br /&gt;Drop your guard&lt;br /&gt;No one's left to stop you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forget this life&lt;br /&gt;Come with me&lt;br /&gt;Don't look back you're safe now&lt;br /&gt;Unlock your heart&lt;br /&gt;Drop  your guard&lt;br /&gt;No one's left to stop you now&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-4642718878073376511?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/4642718878073376511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=4642718878073376511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/4642718878073376511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/4642718878073376511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/01/dear-my-love.html' title='Dear my love'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-1086749349552721303</id><published>2007-01-23T01:45:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-23T22:56:30.440-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lessons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love n hurt'/><title type='text'>One heartbreak and a little bit of love</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This is a story of a little sparrow. A naive, crazy and stupid sparrow. But she was strong mentally. She still lives by the river with her parents and her brother, whom she loves most in this world. Apart from her family she has two loving friends too who cares for her so much. They tries to warn her every time before she gets into any trouble, but she is so stubborn and she tends to learn by facing it herself. One is the wise tortoise, who lives at the end of the river. And the other is the dolphin, whom she never met but still they are best friends. He lives far away in the sea from where they can only hear each other’s voice.&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial Unicode MS&amp;quot;;"&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;br /&gt;The story started when the sparrow fell in love with a human. The tortoise and dolphin tried to warn her about the man but she never realised that they never can be together and the man will go away one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly the sparrow and the man became very close friends and she found herself in love with the man. She loved how he told her about the world and how the world can change into heaven. He showed her so many dreams which she never dreamt before. She loved the man so much that she forgot they don't belong to the same world. The man told her once that he likes a cat and a butterfly too. Knowing everything she still loved the man and she felt the man needs her so much. Then one day the cat he liked went away with another man. He made his mind and said to the sparrow that how much he loves her and he started telling her how their future will be. The sparrow trusted him and started seeing those dreams he was showing her. She felt so loved. She started planning her future with him too which she never did before. She was never into making plans for life. She always accepted life and waited for it as it came to her. She was so much in love that she even ignored her family and spent all her time and emotion on him. They seemed so much in love together. At least she thought so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On her birthday the man sang songs for her and they kept talking all day and night. She forgot about everyone else out there in her life. She took out her heart that day and gifted him. She thought he is going to be hers forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the day came finally. The man walked away with the butterfly. The sparrow understood the man was just waiting for the butterfly to leave her lover-butterfly and go with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sparrow was all down with broken heart, broken trust, struggling to survive the grief. Even her best friends couldn't make her feel good enough though they tired their best. The wise tortoise asked her to help him with his work so that she would get too busy to think about heartbreak. The dolphin said the man didn't deserve her love at all and he assured her that he would be there for her till his demise. Soon she decided that she needs to move on in life. She started spending more time with her family and friends. She played with her brother again. They were so much happy to get her back. But She was still not happy as the man still was there in her life and heart. Inside of her mind she was changing a bit. It seemed she never could love or trust anyone else again ever. The horrible thing was to stop the fountain of love inside of her, which was once unwrapped by the man. It was pouring the man all over all the while. It was almost like stopping the ocean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then one day she, very frustrated and angry with everything happened to her, decided to explore the world and return the world same thing she got. She started looking around here and there. Suddenly she saw a wild bird flying around and flying high with some similar thoughts and craziness yet so different from her. The sparrow was always scared of height so she never dared to fly high. But she felt she should talk to him. She did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday she kept talking to him, sharing her views, ideas, and thoughts. They turn close friends in a while. He said those things which she already knew, which was just echo of her own words. He listened to her patiently whenever she seemed vulnerable and said "speak out everything you want... it helps to reduce the pain". He helped her to look at the love in different way. "Love means freedom"... "Love doesn't expect anything, love is unconditional"... "love everything around you... never restrict yourself"... "Love yourself first, fall in love with your own self"... "Love is never true, neither false. Love is love."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she was never good at playing with others' heart. Slowly she found herself trusting on him. She found herself happy again. She learned more about life from that wild bird. She found herself waiting for him everyday. She thought he is someone special but how could she like him? How could she feel this way again? She felt confused and angry at the same time. It must be something she is mistaking with some infatuation or crush. But still how could it happen? Then she remembered everything she learned about love from him. She realised she is fine now and ready to fall in love again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She didn't feel loved this time but she felt the freedom. She regained her self-esteem, self-respect. The wild bird never tried to play with her which he could do easily like other male. That made her respect this bird more. This bird taught her how to give everyone the share of the fountain of love she had. He got his share too. And this time sparrow didn't expect anything in return. She was proud of herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time she realised she could fall again it was time for the wild bird to go. He couldn't be there with her forever as it was against his nature. Sparrow understood its time to let him go. Too much of word made the wild bird restless and bored. He wanted his freedom back and the silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was sad, and confused. And the wild bird was gone. She kept asking what was wrong but the bird didn't have any answer to that. She would have cried over it but as she was changing inside she was already matured and wiser than ever before. She handled the situation herself and accepted it. She never wanted the wild bird to tie with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still now she sees him flying around or flying high sometime and she is happy with that. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Coz&lt;/span&gt; she is no more a stupid sparrow. She has grown two strong wings like the wild bird too. And the most wonderful part is she didn't lose anyone. Everyone is at their own place where they should be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is happy now with her family, two best friends and a little bit of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She too flies high now.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&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/33722486-1086749349552721303?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/1086749349552721303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=1086749349552721303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/1086749349552721303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/1086749349552721303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/01/one-heartbreak-and-bit-of-love.html' title='One heartbreak and a little bit of love'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-3828790677289610774</id><published>2007-01-22T03:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-22T03:23:13.888-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love n hurt'/><title type='text'>Life for rent</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Life For Rent"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;I haven't ever really found a place that I call home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;I never stick around quite long enough to make it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;I apologize that once again I'm not in love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;But it's not as if I mind that your heart ain't exactly breaking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;It's just a thought, only a thought&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Well I deserve nothing more than I get&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Cos nothing I have is truly mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;I've always thought that I would love to live by the sea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;To travel the world alone and live more simply&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;I have no idea what's happened to that dream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Cos there's really nothing left here to stop me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;It's just a thought, only a thought&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Well I deserve nothing more than I get&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Cos nothing I have is truly mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;While my heart is a shield&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;And I won't let it down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;While I'm so afraid to fail&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;That I won't even try&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Well how can I say I'm alive?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;-Sang by Dido&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why I am so afraid to fall in love again, yet so eagerly waiting for that to happen.&lt;br /&gt;Or I am in love already but don't want to accept.&lt;br /&gt;Confused soul I am, as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-3828790677289610774?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/3828790677289610774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=3828790677289610774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/3828790677289610774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/3828790677289610774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/01/life-for-rent-i-havent-ever-really.html' title='Life for rent'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-5725057971353786200</id><published>2007-01-15T02:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-15T02:51:20.240-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love n humor'/><title type='text'>Runaway Groom</title><content type='html'>He smiles as she walks down the aisle...&lt;br /&gt;He waits for her so impatiently...&lt;br /&gt;And when she arrives he stares at her....&lt;br /&gt;With so much love and so much pride...&lt;br /&gt;He promises to watch her till death do them part...&lt;br /&gt;He then kisses her and makes her his wife...&lt;br /&gt;He holds her hand and takes her home...&lt;br /&gt;Makes love to her and babies they raise...&lt;br /&gt;As time passes the 'groom' disappears...&lt;br /&gt;A boring sports-lover takes his place...&lt;br /&gt;All he does is watch TV for sure...&lt;br /&gt;And when the night comes he snores oh dear!&lt;br /&gt;When chores are heavy and babies cry...&lt;br /&gt;He just watches soccer to smile...&lt;br /&gt;When garbage needs to be placed out...&lt;br /&gt;He just feels like its a crime....&lt;br /&gt;When she cries and feels alone...&lt;br /&gt;He goes, 'honey is it that time of the month?'&lt;br /&gt;When they go out, his eyes start to wonder&lt;br /&gt;When he's home, his eyes are oh so closed...&lt;br /&gt;His clothes are all over the floor&lt;br /&gt;And if dinner is late he's so pissed off...&lt;br /&gt;When she whispers 'do you love me' in his ear&lt;br /&gt;He goes 'Do you want something my dear?'&lt;br /&gt;So where's the groom...she starts to pray&lt;br /&gt;Did he after the wedding, just run away?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL... dedicated to all my married friends :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-5725057971353786200?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/5725057971353786200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=5725057971353786200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/5725057971353786200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/5725057971353786200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/01/runaway-groom.html' title='Runaway Groom'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-1617275108542870707</id><published>2007-01-15T02:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-15T02:49:15.258-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lessons'/><title type='text'>Dream a little dream...</title><content type='html'>Take a moment...look back at your life...&lt;br /&gt;Did you get to follow your dreams...&lt;br /&gt;Did you reach the destination...&lt;br /&gt;At whichever point you may be now...&lt;br /&gt;You once had the sweetest dreams...&lt;br /&gt;Health maybe,Love,Family or Friends...&lt;br /&gt;Whatever that you may have seeked so far...&lt;br /&gt;Did you get to realise it all...&lt;br /&gt;And when the day is done my dear...&lt;br /&gt;And the night has come to greet...&lt;br /&gt;Do you smile and count the stars...&lt;br /&gt;Or do you wonder what went wrong...&lt;br /&gt;No matter where you are right now...&lt;br /&gt;No matter how small your dream may be...&lt;br /&gt;Remember that in life on Earth...&lt;br /&gt;You don't receive everything you please...&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes dreams just remain as dreams...&lt;br /&gt;As those pastel distant memories...&lt;br /&gt;Do not weep that you did not reach them...&lt;br /&gt;Smile through tears that you atleast felt them...&lt;br /&gt;For what matters the most my friend...&lt;br /&gt;Is if you really dreamed those dreams.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-1617275108542870707?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/1617275108542870707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=1617275108542870707' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/1617275108542870707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/1617275108542870707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/01/dream-little-dream.html' title='Dream a little dream...'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-6682651535187529890</id><published>2007-01-12T05:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-27T14:22:29.078-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Do you know how much I care?</title><content type='html'>You are so far away and yet in my heart you are so very near.&lt;br /&gt;My thoughts always go to you wishing I could hold you,&lt;br /&gt;If my arms could stretch around the world,&lt;br /&gt;they would find you and squeeze you and never let you go.&lt;br /&gt;I want you to know how much I care.&lt;br /&gt;Some days you share with me your pain,&lt;br /&gt;and my heart cries for you.&lt;br /&gt;Some days you share with me your loneliness,&lt;br /&gt;and my heart feels alone.&lt;br /&gt;Some days you share with me your worries,&lt;br /&gt;and my mind worries, too.&lt;br /&gt;I know you are so far away but within my heart you are right here beside me&lt;br /&gt;and I miss not touching you, I miss not giving you a hug&lt;br /&gt;that my heart cries out to do.&lt;br /&gt;But I want you to know how much I care!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to tell  that to Shu. I guess he knows it too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-6682651535187529890?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/6682651535187529890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=6682651535187529890' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/6682651535187529890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/6682651535187529890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/01/do-you-know-how-much-i-care.html' title='Do you know how much I care?'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-6709254761578104646</id><published>2007-01-11T03:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-11T03:47:59.770-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random thoughts'/><title type='text'>New Year Survey</title><content type='html'>1. What did you do in 2006 that you’d never done before?&lt;br /&gt;Learned Flash ActionScript.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?&lt;br /&gt;I never make resolutions(I said that before)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Did anyone close to you give birth?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, one of my childhood friend gave birth to a boy, I call him Shin Chan(my fav cartoon character these days).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Did anyone close to you die?&lt;br /&gt;Well, no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. What countries did you visit?&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t go anywhere this year, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. What would you like to have in 2007 that you lacked in 2006?&lt;br /&gt;A loyal and loving boyfriend :D .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. What dates from 2006 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?&lt;br /&gt;22nd may, it was my birthday;&lt;br /&gt;23rd december, went for long drive and made new friends;&lt;br /&gt;31st december, met my future in-laws for the first time(lol kidding :P)met&lt;br /&gt;shu's parents and had delicious lunch(it was yummy really... Thanks to his&lt;br /&gt;aunty, who is twin sister of his mother) and then had blast dancing all night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?&lt;br /&gt;Finally being called as web designer and working for international projects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. What was your biggest failure?&lt;br /&gt;A broken relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Did you suffer illness or injury?&lt;br /&gt;Ummm... nothing to remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. What was the best thing you bought?&lt;br /&gt;A silk top in pink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Whose behavior merited celebration?&lt;br /&gt;Saurabh Ganguly! the way he came back again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?&lt;br /&gt;a. Indian cricket board, the drama(s) through the year.&lt;br /&gt;b. CM of west bengal, regarding singur issue.&lt;br /&gt;c. Us political power for killing Thousands of people over the year and then hanging Saddam Husain that way.&lt;br /&gt;d. The decisions of Argentina's football coach during last match of the WC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Where did most of your money go?&lt;br /&gt;Shopping and phone bills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?&lt;br /&gt;Seeing my brother growing and getting into his first affair in his life(wish that lasts forever).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. What song will always remind you of 2006?&lt;br /&gt;"You are beautiful" - James Blunt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Compared to this time last year, are you:&lt;br /&gt;a) happier or sadder?- Happier.&lt;br /&gt;b) thinner or fatter?- fatter i guess :(&lt;br /&gt;c) richer or poorer?- richer :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. What do you wish you’d done more of?&lt;br /&gt;I wish I read more books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. What do you wish you’d done less of?&lt;br /&gt;Wasting all my emotion and energy for something worthless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. How did you spend Christmas?&lt;br /&gt;At home with family, Mum was not well that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Did you fall in love in 2006?&lt;br /&gt;Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. How many one-night stands?&lt;br /&gt;ERRR... Zero! I am too introvert and backdated to have one-night stands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. What was your favorite TV program?&lt;br /&gt;Shin Chan, a japanese cartoon character comes on Hungama TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?&lt;br /&gt;Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. What was the best book you read?&lt;br /&gt;God of small things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. What was your greatest musical discovery?&lt;br /&gt;James Blunt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. What did you want and get?&lt;br /&gt;Nothing really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. What did you want and not get?&lt;br /&gt;Many things. But I don't want to count them this way. I wish to get done those things this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. What was your favorite film of this year?&lt;br /&gt;Lage raho munna bhai and Pirates of Carebbian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?&lt;br /&gt;My ex-bf sang songs for me, we talked all day online till late night.&lt;br /&gt;26yrs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?&lt;br /&gt;Being able to control my emotions more and more and being less vulnerable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2006?&lt;br /&gt;Normal. Though I like fashion, but I had less money to buy costly things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. What kept you sane?&lt;br /&gt;My brother. My friends. My family. This blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?&lt;br /&gt;Johnny Depp,oh i fell in love with him so badly this year :P . And obviously Hrithik ROshan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. What political issue stirred you the most?&lt;br /&gt;The Maoists Winning over the king in Nepal. And the wholeSingur issue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. Who did you miss?&lt;br /&gt;One of my best friends, the closest one in every way yet he is so far from me. I miss you always, r u listening Shu?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. Who was the best new person you met?&lt;br /&gt;Do u mean meeting in real only? Well I met many people in '06 but the best was&lt;br /&gt;'V', he has been a great support during the most vulnerable time. But He belongs&lt;br /&gt;to my virtual world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2006.&lt;br /&gt;Don't you ever bother if you lose someone/something, nothing really matters after a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.&lt;br /&gt;I lost all the love I had for you&lt;br /&gt;the day that you cheated on me boo&lt;br /&gt;and there can never be no me and you&lt;br /&gt;cause lately you been asking foney&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry you can't do me like those&lt;br /&gt;other busters from around the way&lt;br /&gt;so if you wanna play then lets play&lt;br /&gt;believe me girl two can play that game&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes you think that you could run a game on me&lt;br /&gt;when I was true to you girl from the begin&lt;br /&gt;I was in love with you but you never really loved me at all&lt;br /&gt;so I gotta let you go I put my heart out there then you closed the door&lt;br /&gt;shut me out like a stepchild in the cold&lt;br /&gt;ooh but it's ok I found someone else to love me anyway&lt;br /&gt;so I gotta let know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...........................&lt;br /&gt;...................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not trying to hold you if you wanna leave&lt;br /&gt;cause trust me I've got alots of girl on my team&lt;br /&gt;and I wanted to be with you&lt;br /&gt;at first no one else mattered to me until you try to play me&lt;br /&gt;baby tell me why o why would you throw it all away&lt;br /&gt;don't you know that every dog has it's day&lt;br /&gt;but now that I'm that so over you&lt;br /&gt;there could never be you and me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...........................&lt;br /&gt;..........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See I don't wanna hear your tried excuses&lt;br /&gt;I ain't trying check for you&lt;br /&gt;I wanna stay problem free&lt;br /&gt;look at all the pain you caused me&lt;br /&gt;I don't love you know more&lt;br /&gt;I don't need you in my life&lt;br /&gt;so i'm saying bye bye bye&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm saying bye bye baby&lt;br /&gt;bye saying bye bye baby&lt;br /&gt;I don't need you no more&lt;br /&gt;saying bye bye baby&lt;br /&gt;bye bye&lt;br /&gt;saying bye bye baby&lt;br /&gt;I got someone else to love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;................................&lt;br /&gt;.......................&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-6709254761578104646?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/6709254761578104646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=6709254761578104646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/6709254761578104646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/6709254761578104646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/01/1_11.html' title='New Year Survey'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-3883019000727003856</id><published>2007-01-10T01:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-10T01:59:52.470-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random thoughts'/><title type='text'>Random 40</title><content type='html'>1. Hi my name is...Swati&lt;br /&gt;2. Never in my life have I done... murder&lt;br /&gt;3. The one person who can drive me nuts...myself.&lt;br /&gt;4. Favorite Teacher?Of all time?... My english teacher&lt;br /&gt;5. When I'm nervous... My fingers are restless&lt;br /&gt;6. The last time I cried was...Today&lt;br /&gt;7. If I were to get married right now whom I would... mmm... keep it a secret.&lt;br /&gt;8. My hair is...Awfull!&lt;br /&gt;9. When I was 6...My grandpa died.&lt;br /&gt;10. Last Christmas... Went for a long drive and made new friends.&lt;br /&gt;11. I should be... happy but I am sad.&lt;br /&gt;12. When I look down I see...My cold feet, its cold today.&lt;br /&gt;13. The craziest recent event was... coming to office during 24hrs strike.&lt;br /&gt;14. If I were a character on 'Cartoon Network' I'd be...Spiderman.&lt;br /&gt;15. By this time next year... I will be more confused I guess.&lt;br /&gt;16. My current gripe... That I still couldn't go for a vacation with my family.&lt;br /&gt;17. I have a hard time understanding... Why I turn emotional sometime.&lt;br /&gt;18. There's this girl I know who... Is going to bug me sitting my next chair.&lt;br /&gt;19. I really want to learn... Guitar.&lt;br /&gt;20. If I won an award, the first person I would tell would be...My brother.&lt;br /&gt;21. Take my advice...Don't be nice to boys.&lt;br /&gt;22. My ideal breakfast... Puri &amp;amp; curry.&lt;br /&gt;23. If you visited the place I was born...You would love it, my Kolkata.&lt;br /&gt;24. I plan to visit someone... Today!!&lt;br /&gt;25. If you spent the night at my house.... My mum would have cooked nice dinner for u.&lt;br /&gt;26. I'd stop my wedding if...My fiance cheated.&lt;br /&gt;27. The world could do without... Me.&lt;br /&gt;28. The last thing I ate was...Sweets made by mum.&lt;br /&gt;29. Most recent thing that I have bought?... a pair of night suit.&lt;br /&gt;30. Most recent thing someone else bought for me...My brother bought me some chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;31. This morning I...woke up sad.&lt;br /&gt;32. The animals I would like to see flying besides birds are...rabbits. I mean, wouldn't that be funny?&lt;br /&gt;33. Last night I was... having fight with a friend.&lt;br /&gt;34: I don't know...The square root of 784,525,455.568&lt;br /&gt;35. A better name for me would be...naah I love my name.&lt;br /&gt;36. If I ever go back to school ... I would be happiest in this world.&lt;br /&gt;37. my birthday is....May 22nd.&lt;br /&gt;38. What I really want for Valentine's Day is… Flowers. I haven’t gotten flowers in a long time.&lt;br /&gt;39. I'm wearing...My old woolen coat.&lt;br /&gt;40. Tomorrow I am...Going to come back home from my visit to my aunty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-3883019000727003856?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/3883019000727003856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=3883019000727003856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/3883019000727003856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/3883019000727003856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/01/1.html' title='Random 40'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-6618685208204660761</id><published>2007-01-09T23:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T23:10:39.923-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lessons'/><title type='text'>I feared</title><content type='html'>I feared being alone...&lt;br /&gt;until I learned to like myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feared failure...&lt;br /&gt;until I realized that&lt;br /&gt;I only fail when I don't try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feared success...&lt;br /&gt;until I realized that I had to&lt;br /&gt;try in order to be happy with myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feared peoples opinions...&lt;br /&gt;until I learned that people would have&lt;br /&gt;opinions about me anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feared rejection...&lt;br /&gt;until I learned to have&lt;br /&gt;faith in myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feared pain...&lt;br /&gt;until I learned that&lt;br /&gt;it's necessary for growth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feared the truth...&lt;br /&gt;until I saw the ugliness in lies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feared life...&lt;br /&gt;until I experienced its beauty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feared death...&lt;br /&gt;until I realized that it's not an end&lt;br /&gt;but a beginning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feared my destiny...&lt;br /&gt;until I realized that I had&lt;br /&gt;the power to change my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feared hate...&lt;br /&gt;until I realized it was nothing more&lt;br /&gt;than ignorance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feared love...&lt;br /&gt;until it touched my heart&lt;br /&gt;making the darkness fade into&lt;br /&gt;endless sunny days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feared ridicule...&lt;br /&gt;until I learned to laugh at myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feared growing old...&lt;br /&gt;until I realized that I gained&lt;br /&gt;Wisdom everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feared the future...&lt;br /&gt;until I realized that life just kept&lt;br /&gt;getting better everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feared the past...&lt;br /&gt;until I realized that&lt;br /&gt;it could no longer hurt me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feared the darkness...&lt;br /&gt;until I saw the beauty of the starlight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feared the light...&lt;br /&gt;until I learned that the truth&lt;br /&gt;would give me strength.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feared change...&lt;br /&gt;until I saw that even the most&lt;br /&gt;beautiful butterfly had to undergo&lt;br /&gt;a metamorphosis before it could fly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-6618685208204660761?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/6618685208204660761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=6618685208204660761' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/6618685208204660761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/6618685208204660761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-feared.html' title='I feared'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-5535353263312906792</id><published>2007-01-08T01:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-23T23:12:34.155-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Difference between being in love with someone and loving someone</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A good relationship isn't a game you play or an ego trip you take. It is about love and two people. Loving someone can give us the greatest joy we can ever know and it can hurt more than we can believe too. When it does not really hurt when that person did something disappointing to you, but really hurts when you see that person in pain and sadness, then you know you truly love that person. Loving someone means you should be ready to experience heartache and happiness at the same time. That's the reward and that's the risk. Unless we are willing to experience it, we will never really know what it's like to love and be loved.&lt;br /&gt;Sharing love is probably the most valuable and meaningful experience a person can ever have. And there's a difference between being in love with someone and loving someone. It's the difference between a love that's fickle, wild and short-lived and one that's tender and passionate, nurturing and lasts a long time. The first is easy. The second, the one that really matters to all of us, takes work -- because it's about keeping a relationship.&lt;br /&gt;Loving someone takes efforts. We have to be able to communicate with each other. Nobody can read anyone else's mind. We always presume that our partner knows what we think and feel. Maybe in time we might be able to predict or sense each other's thoughts but it's never perfect and takes time to develop.&lt;br /&gt;Getting the chance to love and be loved by someone is blessed. Respect him/her for who he/she is, and not what you want him/her to be. Everyone is pretty and special in his/her own special way. No one is perfect. It is true love which closes the gap of imperfectness to form a smooth surface of acceptance for each other. True love sees and accepts a person for who he/she is. It is also true love which makes a person change for the better.&lt;br /&gt;The power of true love to a person is undeniable.&lt;br /&gt;A relationship needs commitments too. What is love without commitments from each other anyway? It's like principles and values. Everyone has them but they only mean as much as we are willing to stand for them.&lt;br /&gt;The same goes for our commitments to relationships, and the person we love.&lt;br /&gt;"Love is like an antique vase. It's hard to find, hard to get, but easy to break."&lt;br /&gt;Every day everywhere, people fall in love ... but just how many of these relationships are self-sacrificing love, and not just relationships which are formed only for the intense feeling of falling in love? I know hundreds of friends who say the magical words "I love you"... but more often than not, the truth is just -- I am IN love with you. There is a difference between being in love with someone and loving someone. If a person says he/she is in love with you, he/she means that he/she likes you for who you are now and he/she fell in love with you because of the present you.&lt;br /&gt;This kind of love is temporary and lasts only as long as the fairytale lasts. When fairy godmother comes in at midnight to whirl us back to reality, we see the heartache of such a relationship...where both were only IN love with each other.&lt;br /&gt;But if a person says he/she loves you, he/she means that he/she loves you unconditionally for who you are now, who you were in the past and who you might be in the future. When he/she says he/she loves you and really means it, you have to ask yourself if you love him/her too or if you're in love with the idea of being in love. It is very hard to see the difference through logical thinking.&lt;br /&gt;Let your heart guide you. May you be blessed on your soul-searching journey for your soul mate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-5535353263312906792?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/5535353263312906792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=5535353263312906792' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/5535353263312906792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/5535353263312906792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/01/difference-between-being-in-love-with.html' title='Difference between being in love with someone and loving someone'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-116807578027409288</id><published>2007-01-06T01:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T23:33:04.232-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>If only...</title><content type='html'>If only I could be the one that you really need&lt;br /&gt;If only I could follow you across the open seas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only I could hold you in my arms so tight&lt;br /&gt;If only I could lay with you and talk through out the night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only I could share with you the beauty of the trees&lt;br /&gt;and share with you the gentleness of the summer breeze&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sit with you and listen to the laughter of a child&lt;br /&gt;Sit with you in silence watching creatures in the wild&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen to the stories you tell of days gone by&lt;br /&gt;Be there just to hold you if a memory made you cry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sit with you and listen to the chirping of a bird&lt;br /&gt;Smiling as you tell me it's the sweetest sound you've heard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you ever find the time reach out and type my name&lt;br /&gt;the dreams above I mentioned will always be the same&lt;br /&gt;If my life was different I know what I would do&lt;br /&gt;I'd stand tall there at your side and cross those seas with you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-116807578027409288?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/116807578027409288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=116807578027409288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/116807578027409288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/116807578027409288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/01/if-only_06.html' title='If only...'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-116793940136358477</id><published>2007-01-04T11:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T23:23:02.630-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random thoughts'/><title type='text'>New year rants</title><content type='html'>This is new year. Finally! Everyone is busy making new resolutions and planning for life ahead.&lt;br /&gt;But me? Naaahhh! I never make plans or resolutions. Why to restrict life yaar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I sometime look back to 2006 and try to count what I lost and what I gained.&lt;br /&gt;I left many people back there. Most of them were so willing to go away. I am glad they are gone now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What all I did in 2006?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I fell in love.&lt;br /&gt;2. Learned politics a lot for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;3. Made many great friends.&lt;br /&gt;4. Joined iSolution which is a great experience.&lt;br /&gt;5. Broke up and survived a broken trust, broken heart self.&lt;br /&gt;6. Watched highest numbers of movies in cinema hall ever.&lt;br /&gt;7. Boozzed for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;8. Let one friend go away coz he wanted to.&lt;br /&gt;9. Got involved with Margam.&lt;br /&gt;10. Ditched the habit of chating and wasting time online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lot more will be there to add...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While starting my new year I want to say few things to my friends here.&lt;br /&gt;May I will never be able to say it in person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D... I am so glad that we met and became so close friend. Never had a strong and independent girl friend like you in my life before. Hats off to you. I love to spend hours talking to you. Wish you were my childhood friend. But anyways better let than never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa... What to tell you? You changed my life in every way. It feels great to be your friend and even to stay close to you. You remind me of 2 words honesty and trust in this cruel world whenever I am broken heart, broken trust... Well... I am just wordless now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shu... My life support system. Never had anyone like you whom I depend on as well as I trust so much. I feel most comfortable only with you(after my brother) in this world. Lets see where life takes us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;V... I wanted to thank you for everything. I dont know whether you will ever come back or not, but I miss you. I wish at least I knew the reason for that you left. Wish you all the best in your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T... Goodbye T. I am glad that you are gone now. Thanks for showing me the real world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't remember anyone else right now... I may update later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-116793940136358477?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/116793940136358477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=116793940136358477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/116793940136358477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/116793940136358477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2007/01/new-year-rants.html' title='New year rants'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-116670265506694613</id><published>2006-12-21T03:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T23:21:31.954-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love n hurt'/><title type='text'>"Gone Forever"</title><content type='html'>Don't know what's going on&lt;br /&gt;Don't know what went wrong&lt;br /&gt;Feels like a hundred years I&lt;br /&gt;Still can't believe you're gone&lt;br /&gt;So I'll stay up all night&lt;br /&gt;With these bloodshot eyes&lt;br /&gt;While these walls surround me with the story of our life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so much better&lt;br /&gt;Now that you're gone forever&lt;br /&gt;I tell myself that I don't miss you at all&lt;br /&gt;I'm not lying, denying that&lt;br /&gt;I feel so much better now&lt;br /&gt;That you're gone forever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now things are coming clear&lt;br /&gt;And I don't need you here&lt;br /&gt;And in this world around me&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad you disappeared&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'll stay out all night&lt;br /&gt;Get drunk and fuck and fight&lt;br /&gt;Until the morning comes I'll&lt;br /&gt;Forget about our life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so much better&lt;br /&gt;Now that you're gone forever&lt;br /&gt;I tell myself that I don't miss you at all&lt;br /&gt;I'm not lying, denying that I feel so much better now&lt;br /&gt;That you're gone forever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First time you screamed at me&lt;br /&gt;I should have made you leave&lt;br /&gt;I should have known it could be so much better&lt;br /&gt;I hope you're missing me&lt;br /&gt;I hope I've made you see&lt;br /&gt;That I'm gone forever&lt;br /&gt;And now it's coming clear&lt;br /&gt;That I don't need you here&lt;br /&gt;And in this world around me&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad you disappeared&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so much better&lt;br /&gt;Now that you're gone forever&lt;br /&gt;I tell myself that I don't miss you at all&lt;br /&gt;I'm not lying, denying that I feel so much better now&lt;br /&gt;That you're gone forever&lt;br /&gt;And now you're gone forever&lt;br /&gt;And now you're gone forever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;This song is dadicated to you all people who are gone from my life now and did hurt me a lot when you were with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-116670265506694613?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/116670265506694613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=116670265506694613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/116670265506694613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/116670265506694613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2006/12/gone-forever.html' title='&quot;Gone Forever&quot;'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-116419998123242066</id><published>2006-11-22T04:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T23:19:18.985-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love n hurt'/><title type='text'>I miss you</title><content type='html'>Winter is knocking my door again,&lt;br /&gt;but you are not there to hold my hand.&lt;br /&gt;like all the days we spent together,&lt;br /&gt;those days are slipped like sand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is full of surprises I knew,&lt;br /&gt;but never thought like this it could be.&lt;br /&gt;that you will be gone following her,&lt;br /&gt;leaving behind the broken-trust, me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now when we are apart forever(?)&lt;br /&gt;and I walked away through the rain,&lt;br /&gt;hiding my tears, burning my soul,&lt;br /&gt;why I still look back and miss u,&lt;br /&gt;drawning myself into endless pain?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swati&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-116419998123242066?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/116419998123242066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=116419998123242066' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/116419998123242066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/116419998123242066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-miss-you.html' title='I miss you'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-116376984036941300</id><published>2006-11-17T05:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T23:18:02.581-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lessons'/><title type='text'>Life in short</title><content type='html'>Life is just what happens to you, While your busy making other plans.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-116376984036941300?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/116376984036941300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=116376984036941300' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/116376984036941300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/116376984036941300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2006/11/life-in-short.html' title='Life in short'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-116376155302419833</id><published>2006-11-17T01:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T23:17:45.019-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Social issue'/><title type='text'>Woman Is The Nigger Of The World</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;Woman is the nigger of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;the world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;Yes she is...think about it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;Woman is the nigger of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;the world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;Think about it...do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;something about it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;We make her paint her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;face and dance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;If she won't be slave ,we&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;say that she don't love us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;If she's real, we say she's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;trying to be a man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;While putting her down we&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;pretend that she is above us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;Woman is the nigger of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;the world...yes she is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;If you don't belive me take a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;look to the one you're with&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;Woman is the slaves of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;the slaves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;Ah yeah...better screem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;about it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;We make her bear and raise&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;our children&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;And then we leave her flat for&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;being a fat old mother hen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;We tell her home is the only&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;place she would be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;Then we complain that she's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;too unworldly to be our friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;Woman is the nigger of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;the world...yes she is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;If you don't belive me take a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;look to the one you're with&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;Woman is the slaves of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;the slaves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;Yeah (think about it)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;We insult her everyday on TV&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;And wonder why she has no&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;guts or confidence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;When she's young we kill her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;will to be free&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;While telling her not to be so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;smart we put her down for being so dumb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;Woman is the nigger of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;the world...yes she is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;If you don't belive me take a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;look to the one you're with&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;Woman is the slaves of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;the slaves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;Yes she is...if you belive me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;you better screem about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;Repeat:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;We make her paint her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;face and dance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;We make her paint her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;face and dance We make her paint her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;face and dance &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;John Lennon&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/33722486-116376155302419833?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/116376155302419833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=116376155302419833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/116376155302419833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/116376155302419833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2006/11/woman-is-nigger-of-world.html' title='Woman Is The Nigger Of The World'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-116342269162624045</id><published>2006-11-13T04:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T23:17:20.485-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love n hurt'/><title type='text'>Love Sick</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Courier, Courier New;"&gt;I'm walking through streets that are dead&lt;br /&gt;Walking, walking with you in my head&lt;br /&gt;My feet are so tired, my brain is so wired&lt;br /&gt;And the clouds are weeping&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I hear someone tell a lie?&lt;br /&gt;Did I hear someone's distant cry?&lt;br /&gt;I spoke like a child; you destroyed me with a smile&lt;br /&gt;While I was sleeping&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of love but I'm in the thick of it&lt;br /&gt;This kind of love I'm so sick of it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see, I see lovers in the meadow&lt;br /&gt;I see, I see silhouettes in the window&lt;br /&gt;I watch them 'til they're gone and they leave me hanging on&lt;br /&gt;To a shadow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of love; I hear the clock tick&lt;br /&gt;This kind of love; I'm love sick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes the silence can be like the thunder&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wanna take to the road and plunder&lt;br /&gt;Could you ever be true?&lt;br /&gt;I think of you&lt;br /&gt;And I wonder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of love; I wish I'd never met you&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of love; I'm trying to forget you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just don't know what to do&lt;br /&gt;I'd give anything to&lt;br /&gt;Be with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Bob Dylan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-116342269162624045?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/116342269162624045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=116342269162624045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/116342269162624045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/116342269162624045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2006/11/love-sick.html' title='Love Sick'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-116306786399572648</id><published>2006-11-09T00:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T23:16:55.273-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random thoughts'/><title type='text'>When I Travel in Kolkata</title><content type='html'>It seems I have to travel for so long time all of my life to reach my office. It's been like this always. Since I joined RTG, my first job as a Graphic designer. I have been traveling for more than 3 hrs a day since then. Now when I am with Isolution as a web designer I am still traveling for more than 3 hrs a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't say I don't like it. In fact I love the time I get to be alone and away from known people. I watch nature, people, streets, buildings, I watch my Kolkata. I explored almost whole Kolkata this way. When I travel by bus it gives me window to touch the outside world with the imaginary fingers of my mind. I touch new red blossoms in the spring, I touch the top of the clouds in the autumn. I see buildings are going high, touching sky everyday. I watch new new banners, hoardings, I get new ideas for my work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I watch people, mostly kids. They are just awesome, amazing in their own way. I enjoy most watching them. I have many stories to tell about kids I see, interact on my way. It is wonderful that how they make me feel good that I even forget all my stress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see one boy(5 yrs hardly) goes to school with his mum everyday, catches the same bus i take. One day I took him on my lap to let him sit as they didn't get any empty seat. The boy is so adorable. He was trying so hard to not to fall asleep. But at the end he did and I held him dearly to make him feel comfortable and sleep in peace. He is too small to travel for more than 1 hr and attend a school, which is just at the opposite of the city. I really hate the parents for that reason. He slept all the while and I was missing my nephew whom I didn't meet for years and might be same age as him. At the end her mother got seat beside me and while moving away he got awake. He was still sitting on my lap and mother started making fun of him "had a nice sleep aannn? :P ". He got angry and said "No way, I was not sleeping at all. huh!!! /:) ". We both started laughing for the way he said it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then another day. It was really hot outside and i was frustrated to be stuck in the traffic jam. Suddenly a school bus came beside and it was full with naughty kids on their way back home. They were giggling and chatting with each other. Don't know how one girl saw me and started teasing me "hello Aunty, achhe hain na?" but with a genuine smile. And then all the kids started saying same and waving at me. I waved back too with a stupid smile on my face (it was stupid i can bet... lol). Then after a while we were apart but still they had left the smile on my face. They made my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it is about a married lady I made friends with on my way to office in bus. I can still remember how she given me a weird look on the very first day. I was wearing normal dress as I always wear (trouser and top) but may be she is so conservative that she didn't like it and her eyes uttered few unspoken words like "oh god what is she wearing" as I felt. I felt very bad that day. Then after few days we both giggled at each other for some funny incidents in bus as we saw each other enough to smile at each other in bus. I always heard that a smile can change the world, now i saw too. She waits for me to get into the bus everyday now. Even one day when the bus was not willing to stop for me and get me in, she made it stop for me by screaming at the conductor. I reached at office on time that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many more stories to remember. But May be some other day...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-116306786399572648?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/116306786399572648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=116306786399572648' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/116306786399572648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/116306786399572648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2006/11/when-i-travel-in-kolkata.html' title='When I Travel in Kolkata'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-116138279396325896</id><published>2006-10-20T15:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T23:16:40.315-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love n hurt'/><title type='text'>Because I love you...</title><content type='html'>I do not love you except because I love you;&lt;br /&gt;I go from loving to not loving you,&lt;br /&gt;From waiting to not waiting for you&lt;br /&gt;My heart moves from cold to fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you only because it's you the one I love;&lt;br /&gt;I hate you deeply, and hating you&lt;br /&gt;Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you&lt;br /&gt;Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe January light will consume&lt;br /&gt;My heart with its cruel&lt;br /&gt;Ray, stealing my key to true calm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this part of the story I am the one who&lt;br /&gt;Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,&lt;br /&gt;Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;PABLO NERUDA..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-116138279396325896?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/116138279396325896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=116138279396325896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/116138279396325896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/116138279396325896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2006/10/because-i-love-you.html' title='Because I love you...'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-116034313647904424</id><published>2006-10-08T14:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T23:15:54.305-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love n hurt'/><title type='text'>How it bleeds</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,255,255)"&gt;"if every time you are just going to come here to drag me through mud, then just don't come "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255)"&gt;I promise you that...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255)"&gt;I won't come anymore... I never intend to drag you through mud ever... May be It's just because I was buried in mud around me... You pushed me there...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255)"&gt;Yes you have given me reason of your own... But that doesn't satisfy me at all... If I am supposed to accept whatever you have said, I am supposed to believe you cheated on me all the while... Which I dont want to believe even on my dreams... That's why I come up again and again with the same question... You misunderstand me everytime...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255)"&gt;You said I made unfair comments... No I didn't... Whatever happened to me was unfair... not me or my reactions...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255)"&gt;I told you on very first day that we should say goodbye to each other... You didn't listen to me and asked me to stay as I am your best friend whom you never had... (Does anyone treat his best friend this way? Does he make her insane in pain? I don't think so...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255)"&gt;I tried my best you see... But I don't have left energy anymore...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255)"&gt;And the fact is now "YOU WON'T SEE ME EVER AGAIN" ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255)"&gt;I'm gone now... gone forever!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,255,255)"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&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/33722486-116034313647904424?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/116034313647904424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=116034313647904424' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/116034313647904424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/116034313647904424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2006/10/how-it-bleeds.html' title='How it bleeds'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-115961973074253013</id><published>2006-09-30T05:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T23:15:31.688-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love n hurt'/><title type='text'>How am i supposed to live...</title><content type='html'>KIMBERLEY LOCKE LYRICS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Without You"&lt;br /&gt;(feat. Clay Aiken)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never even thought to cry&lt;br /&gt;When I heard you say goodbye&lt;br /&gt;Never said where you were going&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no laughter in the air&lt;br /&gt;Only silence everywhere&lt;br /&gt;And so much left unspoken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since you've been gone&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been the same&lt;br /&gt;I wish that i could see&lt;br /&gt;Who's to blame&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without you, where do I belong?&lt;br /&gt;Without you, how can I go on?&lt;br /&gt;And No love but yours will ever do&lt;br /&gt;Tell me how am i supposed to live my life?&lt;br /&gt;Without you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was I lost in you and me&lt;br /&gt;To the point i couldn't see&lt;br /&gt;That what we had was dying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it's all that I can do&lt;br /&gt;To see photographs of you&lt;br /&gt;And stop myself from crying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should learn to live without your love&lt;br /&gt;Got so many memories&lt;br /&gt;But it's not enough&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without you, where do i belong?&lt;br /&gt;Without you, how can i go on?&lt;br /&gt;And No love but yours will ever do&lt;br /&gt;Tell me how am I supposed to live my life&lt;br /&gt;Without you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel helpless and, oh, so all alone&lt;br /&gt;Like I've never felt before&lt;br /&gt;You made me feel alive&lt;br /&gt;But I don't remember what it's like anymore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without you, where do I belong?&lt;br /&gt;Without you, how can I go on?&lt;br /&gt;And No love but yours will ever do&lt;br /&gt;Tell me how am I supposed to live my life&lt;br /&gt;Without you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without you, where do I belong?&lt;br /&gt;Without you, how can I go on?&lt;br /&gt;Tell me how am I supposed to live my life&lt;br /&gt;Without you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh baby where do I belong?&lt;br /&gt;Please tell how can I go on?&lt;br /&gt;Without you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M&lt;br /&gt;I&lt;br /&gt;S&lt;br /&gt;S&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y&lt;br /&gt;O&lt;br /&gt;U&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes i do sometimes. but I will survive. Because I know I have to live without you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-115961973074253013?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/115961973074253013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=115961973074253013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/115961973074253013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/115961973074253013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2006/09/how-am-i-supposed-to-live.html' title='How am i supposed to live...'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-115774240631207293</id><published>2006-09-08T11:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T23:14:58.018-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random thoughts'/><title type='text'>Poet On Swati... LOL!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255)"&gt;Life is being very busy since last few days. Not getting time for writing something here. But everyday hoping to manage some time and write something at last.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255)"&gt;Well now the time has come. Since last few days I am having a poetry contest with V. Oh lol... No it's not a serious contest. It's just we are scrapping each other on ORKUT and we are doing it through poem. He is good at shayari really. Actually I thought yesterday only that i should paste his last piece of poetry here coz it was good at content.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,255)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;kabhi kabhi yeh behta paani ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;kabhi kabhi yeh hawa suhaani ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;kabhi kabhi yaadein anjaani .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;kaano me kuch keh jaati hai ..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;aur aankho mai reh jaati hai ..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;bus unse milne ki chaahat..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;kabhi kabhi jo dekhe sapne ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;kabhi kabhi jo roothe apne ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;kabhi kabhi dil laga tadapne,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;to khud ko mai samjhaata hoon ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;soch ke jo pal saath gujaare ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;kuch pal hashkar so jata hoon ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;kabhi kabhi kuch gam hota hai ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;kabhi kabhi mausam hota hai ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;kabhi kabhi dil bhi rota hai,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;kabhi kabhi yoon kyon hota hai,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;kabhi kabhi jo tum aa jati&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;kabhi kabhi kuch baat banati ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;kabhi kabhi khusiyan mil jaati&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;aur kahoon tumse kya swati..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255)"&gt;Well said. He is right saying we should remember the good part of life no need to be sad that we don't have someone anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255)"&gt;Always remember what you have don't think about what you don't have. Life is all about making choices. The path you choose that decides your life and destiny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my reply was :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;hum to aajate hain har roj&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;naye naye baaten batane&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;jis din kabita na likh paye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;to bana lete hain koi bahane&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;office me jo kaam pada hain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;usme dam sara nikla hain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;hosh me hu yehi bahat hain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;baki sab kuchh bhul gaye hain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;jis sapna ki tum karte ho baat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;milne ati wo mujhko har raat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;kuch der tak deta hain wo sath&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;par akhir me rah jata khali ye hath&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;phir bhi ye jiban sapna hain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;sapna hain bas sapna hain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;sapne me sab apna hain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;sapne me sab sachcha hain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;na koi shak na koi gham&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;sapne me hi kho jayenge hum&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;hone na denge yeh ankhen nam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;khush rahne ki mujhme hain dam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255)"&gt;Will you believe it took me 2 hours to write that reply :D . Actually I was so tired to think even. Got back home at 10:45pm. But still I am enjoying my work at office. So satisfying. Thanks to S.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255)"&gt;Well I never thought I will ever only log in on net just to reply someone's scrap and no chating. I have really stopped chating. OH MY GOSH!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/33722486-115774240631207293?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/115774240631207293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=115774240631207293' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/115774240631207293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/115774240631207293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2006/09/poet-on-swati-lol.html' title='Poet On Swati... LOL!!!'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-115731545923698027</id><published>2006-09-03T13:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T23:14:16.425-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random thoughts'/><title type='text'>One evening</title><content type='html'>Saturday 2nd sept, 2006:&lt;br /&gt;Nope nothing happened so special. It was just i left office early and it was a nice evening outside. I was feeling so good and wanted to enjoy all the evening outside. I took auto from there and i was not being able to decide whether to take metro after that or to take bus. But i had an appoinment with doctor so i needed to reach on time.&lt;br /&gt;But with all my heart i wanted to stay outside with the lovely evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a bit crazy wind blowing and messing my rough hair... touching my skin softly and telling me to play with it and enjoy the moments... the more the auto having speed the more it was playing with my hair and my face... i was unable to handle it yet i was loving it so much... dry leaves were running and flying with the wind... i wished i was one of them.... nothing to worry about life and still enjoying the journey... so phylosophical lol...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i looked at the sky up there and found it so beautiful... clouds were gathering making the sky dark though... they said it will rain soon... i loved it more... after a hot day everyone will love it... i loved myself a bit more for being a part of this beautiful world... i loved everything around me... and i remembered someone telling me how much he loves rain... my heart ached a bit... but still i was so happy... i learned another lesson to be happy alone...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But every good thing has an end. Auto reached metro station...I was still in dilemma about taking metro or bus. But as i had to deal with time i took metro. Before entering the door to the underground i looked at the sky again and said "goodbye dear i have to go". I had some hope left that before the wonderful evening disappears i will again be back to the outside world after finishing my metro ride. The underground was so dull and hot. I hated metro rail for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When i reached DumDum station it started raining and it was dark.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-115731545923698027?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/115731545923698027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=115731545923698027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/115731545923698027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/115731545923698027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2006/09/one-evening.html' title='One evening'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-115731414246927370</id><published>2006-09-03T12:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T23:13:57.076-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movies'/><title type='text'>Mindhunters</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;Mindhunters Starring:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LL Cool J, Val Kilmer, Christian Slater, Eion Bailey, Will Kemp, Jonny Lee Miller, Clifton Collins, Kathryn Morris, Patricia Velazquez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;Mindhunters Director:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Renny Harlin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;Mindhunters Written By:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wayne Kramer, Kevin Brodbin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;Mindhunters Distributed by:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dimension&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;Mindhunters Synopsis:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a remote island, the FBI has a training program for their psychological profiling division, called "Mindhunters", used to track down serial killers. The training goes horribly wrong, however, when a group of seven young agents discover that one of them is a serial killer, and is setting about slaying the others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a very clever script i must say. All the while you really can't guess who the killer can be exactly. The actions and stunts were really good in it. I liked specially when the killer and the girl both were inside the water tank under the water fighting each other and then at the crucial moment they were staring at each other(donno how is it possible in drak night under the water) and holding the hands with the gun pointing at each other outside the water waiting for the one to lose his/her breathe and go up to have some air. The killer loses there.&lt;br /&gt;A must see movie for who loves thriller.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-115731414246927370?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/115731414246927370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=115731414246927370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/115731414246927370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/115731414246927370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2006/09/mindhunters.html' title='Mindhunters'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-115723190236693281</id><published>2006-09-02T13:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T23:13:34.629-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love n hurt'/><title type='text'>Transition period</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;It hurt to face the truth&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you only knew how I feel&lt;br /&gt;If you only knew what I think&lt;br /&gt;Every time I look at you&lt;br /&gt;My heart just seems to shrink&lt;br /&gt;You took your love away&lt;br /&gt;Like it didnt hurt to say&lt;br /&gt;That you didn't love me anymore&lt;br /&gt;And you wanted to get away&lt;br /&gt;It's like my life was over&lt;br /&gt;And it hurt to face the truth&lt;br /&gt;Why was this happening&lt;br /&gt;What did I do&lt;br /&gt;To make you change your feelings&lt;br /&gt;Which were once so very deep&lt;br /&gt;And looking back at the memories&lt;br /&gt;I can't help but weep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style="COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;It hurts me to say what I'm about to say&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been there for you through the good times and the bad,&lt;br /&gt;And was there to wipe your tears away, whenever you were sad.&lt;br /&gt;Always tried to make you happy, whenever you were mad,&lt;br /&gt;And gave you everything you thought you'd never have.&lt;br /&gt;All those magical nights that we kissed,&lt;br /&gt;Those are the days I will always miss.&lt;br /&gt;I loved every single one of those days,&lt;br /&gt;And that's why it hurts me to say what I'm about to say.&lt;br /&gt;I loved you unconditionally,&lt;br /&gt;No matter what happened between you and me.&lt;br /&gt;And I was blind, but now I see,&lt;br /&gt;That you just wanted to be friends with me.&lt;br /&gt;But I can't just be your friend.&lt;br /&gt;Because my broken heart will never mend.&lt;br /&gt;You didn't want to lose me,&lt;br /&gt;but you lost me in the end.&lt;br /&gt;Because I Love You too much,&lt;br /&gt;to just be your friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we try so hard to move on in our life we need to deal with pain, anger, hurt... slowly we find new happiness and pretend to forget the pain... but during this period the wound often starts moaning inside us... and how badly it bleeds till it gets cured...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"its bleeding... uhhh... so badly"&lt;br /&gt;"hide it! hide it! no one should see it"&lt;br /&gt;"why cant i even cry? cant i even show?"&lt;br /&gt;"what’s the use of crying or showing?"&lt;br /&gt;"cry as much u can... it helps"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;"dont be an emotional fool u idiot"&lt;br /&gt;"is there any place where i can hide myself?"&lt;br /&gt;"why me? why only me every time?"&lt;br /&gt;"no one understands me... no one can"&lt;br /&gt;"how can he/she do this to me?"&lt;br /&gt;"damn it!!! i still love him/her"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;people often say all these to himself/herself...&lt;br /&gt;but what if someone says like this...&lt;br /&gt;"i miss u and i will... but m walking away... i was bleeding so badly... my blood will show u the path for sometime if u want to follow me but make it soon if u want it really else blood will disappear soon to tell u where i m gone coz it started getting clotted already... and i will be gone... &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;forever&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/33722486-115723190236693281?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/115723190236693281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=115723190236693281' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/115723190236693281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/115723190236693281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2006/09/transition-period.html' title='Transition period'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33722486.post-115714240400506093</id><published>2006-09-01T12:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T23:12:51.164-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random thoughts'/><title type='text'>First kick!!!</title><content type='html'>Quite tough job to keep a blog i guess... but still this is my third try... i lost other 2 user id with password b4... how? thats a different story...&lt;br /&gt;thinking... what could be nice enough to write on my first blog?&lt;br /&gt;about me? no no... whats there to write about me?&lt;br /&gt;then about the world? ummmm... world is big enough to write about... but sometime i wonder why the world is so big? or even why not more big so that we still had left places to discover... its not fair that no one left for me to discover some places... sigh!!!&lt;br /&gt;hmmm... lets try to talk about something else...&lt;br /&gt;LIFE!? oh dear! dnt even start now... thats like counting water in ocean...&lt;br /&gt;its a very popular line "describe life in single word" ... but why yaar? Life is itself a single word then which other single word can describe it more appropriate?&lt;br /&gt;how about soccer? hey nt a bad idea at all... we just had worldcup 2006... world cup is always like a fastival for which we wait for 4 long yrs... i love this game so much... even more than chess... yup being a chess player even... but this yr it was really sad for me at the end :(&lt;br /&gt;still cant get over the sad feelings for Argentina... i love this soccer-team passionately and so MARADONA my childhood hero... he still fascinates me... but there is no enough time to write about him or soccer...&lt;br /&gt;well well... then what to write?&lt;br /&gt;"Swati its 1:58am now... time to go to sleep... ur office needs u in few hours"&lt;br /&gt;oh yeah i forgot that part... i should just say goodnight now... may i try tomorrow to write 'something'... till then bye&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33722486-115714240400506093?l=swatispeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/115714240400506093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33722486&amp;postID=115714240400506093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/115714240400506093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33722486/posts/default/115714240400506093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swatispeaks.blogspot.com/2006/09/first-kick_01.html' title='First kick!!!'/><author><name>Swati Sengupta</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01144834663222500254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fRUaTwjvTjc/R_yB9wNd-YI/AAAAAAAAABg/trNjG4i2-oc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
