Heaven And Hell --- The Real Difference

A man spoke with the Lord about heaven and hell. The Lord said to the man, "Come, I will show you HELL." They entered a room where a group of people sat around a huge pot of stew. Everyone was famished, desparate and starving. Each held a spoon that reached the pot, but each spoon had a handle so much longer than their own arm that it could not be used to get the stew into their own mouths. The sufferring was terrible.
"Come, now I will show you HEAVEN," the Lord said after a while. They entered another room, identical to the first--the pot of stew, the group of people, the same long-handled spoons. But there everyone was happy and well-nourished.
"I don't understand, " said the man. "Why are they happy here when they were miserable in the other room and everything was the same?"
The Lord smiled. "Ah, it is simple," he said. "Here they have learned to feed each other."

-Ann Landers

Did you Know?

That... In olden times it took approximately 6 months for a person to go from south to the north of India or vice versa. When people set out on foot for walkin through the terrains and plains to reach the other..lets say around the starting of october..and when they reach their destination its almost march. Yet, they didnt know the time scale then too well. This is the reason why.. when in south we have Maha Navratri (nine nights) festival.. in North they celebrate Raam Leela. South celebrates RaamNavmi six months later in march while.. in this time.. North celebrates Vasant Navratri.

-Divster

Daddy luvs me

Abhishek Bachchan_______________ Amitabh Bachchan

Dad: Isnt he adorable? (pinch pinch)

-Divster

Taj Mahal.. Epitome of Love

Books say that Taj Mahal is the highest epitome of Love... built by an Emperor Shah Jahan.. showing his never-ending love and devotion to his beautiful Queen Mumtaz.

The real essence of the love of this Monument is Truly Evident.. in this song called "Ek Shahenshah ne Banvake Haseen TajMahal" in the Hindi Movie LEADER (1964) acted out by the ever-green Legend Dilip Kumar and ever-green Beauty VyjantiMala. Sung by the melody queen Lata Mangeshkar and Majestic Mohd. Rafi Saab. The beauty of the song is that it is actually based on a Classical Raag "Lalita Gauri". Raag Lalita-Gauri is a union of the two ancient Raags Lalit & Gauri named after the manifestations of the Divine Mother of Shakti.This Raag showers on the listener a pious stream of devotion and fills them ith a soul drenching spiritual experience.This raag is one of the most difficult one to be sung.. and I believe Lata has done pure justice to it. Even Rafi paled in comparison to Lata's expertise of striking the perfect tone of the raaga.

Lyrics are equally mind-blowing. Moves even the heart of stone...
Ek Shahenshah Ne Banvake Haseen TajMahal...
Saari Duniya Ko Mohabbat ki Nishaani Di hai.
(An Emeperor has given this entire world a symbol of Love
by making the beautiful TajMahal)
Iske saaye mei Sada Pyaar ke Charche Honge
Khatm jo Hona Sakegi Wo Kahaani Di hai...
(In its shade will remain forever the praise of Love
Providing us.. with a never-ending story...)

I honestly tell you people.. this song is what made me see Taj Mahal in a whole new way. It just completely made my mind and soul sing.
Listen to it now.-- > Click Here <
-Divster

Up in the skies

This is a poem i wrote somtime last year. Am still wondering.. as to what posessed me to write this powerful one. But, here is where I am putting it down. Found the pic that seems to fit it well.




up in the skies i see a rainbow.. a rainbow flying high up in the sky

Down in the earth i frown ... a frown on my face dunno why...

Dried in the autumn i feel... an endless wait, my heart feels dry...

tired with waiting i sleep.. a tender sleep comes over as i ly...

Dawn comes n goes... no sense of time, no reason to try...

Drifting away in my thoughts... thoughts of my dear beloved and I

mindless i go in my path... a path that just cant reach you, oh my...

Devastated i realize... blinded and emotionaly abandonned, i cry...

Deep down i know... i know you are not flying back to me, still i try...

to find my place in this lonely world... lonely it will be, without u & I

Drenched in sorrow i look up last time... last time before i say goodbye...

Dusk has set in, dawn has gone... will i be gone so soon? i sigh...

smiling in your memories... i see my own soul fly high and vanish in the sky



-Divster

Singing by not my Choice

Well.. obviously one of ma greatest passions in life is music. Nothin can ever change it.. bcause im born in it and i swim in it and find myself surviving in it. But this post is not just about singing in general. It has always been encouraged to write songs you prefer to hear, your favorites etc. But, here i am going to talk about the songs I DONT prefer to hear.. and i dont find them anywhere close to favorite...Let me see.. what kind of girl this makes me....

I thought of this post.. when i heard this song.."Tide is high.. but im holding on.. Im goinna be ur Number 1.." by Atomic Kitten. Infact, the firstfew times i just enjoyed the beat.. and the song was melodious.. no doubt abt it. Hehe, the video on the other hand.. had one of the girls in Atomic kitten shownn pregnant.. dancing.. And i was like..shocked! Wat the hell.. becomin jumpin jackal in your 6-7 months pregnancy (yes, it did look that big...). That just irked me.

But, then when i downloaded that song and heard it i was like.. i hate this! its like.."every girl wants u to be her man.. but i'll wait right here till its my turn. Im not that kinda girl.. who gives up jusss like that..." i was like stuffing my mouth with a pillowww to not sock the system. So much for dignity. U wait around for the loser to look at you again.. wow sooo nice. Ur actually helping out all those 'self-sacrificing women in love' to commit suicide in it further!

The next on da agenda is this latest song alwayss annoying me on the radio. Its by these latest gang of girls called PussycatDolls. Coy name.. with an even more coy song! "Dont cha wish ur girlfriend was hot like me.. Dont cha wish ur girlfriend was freak like me. Dont cha baby" First when i heard this song i was like.. sheesh... wat kind of a song is this??? Then i saw the video.. and gotta admit.. i did liek the rhythm and dance of it. no doubt it is quite catchy..

But then i heard this song fully.. and i laughed out loud. Its like.."i know u like me.. i know u do. And in the back of ur mind.. I know u shud be home with me. Lets keep it friendly..You have to play fair...See, i dont caree.. But i know she aint gon' wanna share" LOL. I actually got addicted to hearing this song on the radio..(yah..tat happens). And i had to bang these lyrics on my head so that i get out of singin that annoying song during class. Seriously, the guy moved on and had his new gf. U still got hots for him.. heck.. not till sharinggg..brrr. well.. how about..' why dont cha forget him baby.."

I have this feeling.. that im goinna look at this post later on and laugh out loud. This is invariably from the teenager inside me. Well, i guess there has got to be something like this that will remind you of what your teenage life was like.

-Divster

My fav riddle..

There is a Blessed Saint who visits the temple. There are three separate shrines in the temple.. each having a pond in front of it. its a custom for him to keep a fixed number of flowers in each shrine(same number for each shrine) the magic of the pond is that the number of flowers you immerse in it gets doubled.

So the saint one day takes some number of flowers...
1)immerses in the first pond..flowers get doubled
2) keeps the fixed number of flowers for the shrine..
has some flowers left over..
3)goes to the next pond.. immerses the flowers again.. gets doubled.
4)keeps the fixed number of flowers for the second shrine..
has some flowers left again..
5) goes to the last pond.. immerses the flowers. gets doubled.
6) and keeps the fixed number of flowers for the third shrine..
walks out with NO flowers left in hand.

Now the riddle is..
1)how much flowers did he carry in the starting?
2)how much is the fixed number of flowers that needs to be kept in each shrine.

-Divster

Pathway to Heaven

Sigh.. this sure seems like one..but isnt. Not, when you're late to class..and you're walking down this hallway in my school... one-word: Never-ending. In my experience.. on a hard day walking through this corridor alone.. still gives me shivers..
brrrr...

-Divster

Where do we stand, woman?

Woman.. What is it to be a woman? why are we born as women? I really need to know.. bcause this world is soo huge.. but yet the world for a woman seems still so small..

Do not find me annexing issues of feminism or male chauvinism. But, this is my pure senti-mentalism. I wonder if a woman has got things going better for her after all??? Obviously the rhetorical question has the most obvious answer YeS. Comparing to ancient times, we will all agree that women didnt have any say in most of the decisions made at home.. and lets not forget no chance of establishing a career of her own.. or no hope of having any other goal in life except for handling/taking care of the family and making the kids and themselves self-sufficient and successful.

But now.. we have girls all over the world.. filling up lots of prestigious positions.. leading countries.. leading several fields. Yes, clap clap clap. All this is the exterior world. What about the interior? Does the woman feel the essence of her freedom truly?? does she?? Talk about the way a girl is brought up compared to a boy. Talk about the ulterior motive of having the girl child getting wed first. Talk about entrusting the motherhood and its continuing responsibility solely still in the shoulders of ours.Yes, this is still there. We are encouraged to see the world.. the massive land of opportunities.. but we are said.. nevertheless, this is what we plan for you. Now.. its up to you.. as to how much u can manage to do.. beyond this 'plan'.

Do i sound as if i am vexed about having to be unfairly treated compared to men? Heck no. I dont see any open criticism in this area. But, the fact is that it is in-built in the culture. You are born in this culture.. u are 'expected' to understand that you are a girl.. therefor you are different.. whether u like it or not. All hopes and dreams of having to carve their way out in this life.. having to stand up for what career they want to pursue.. and how much effort they want to put in.. receives applaud in this world. But receives crude remarks, smirks, and antagonism from the social circle immediately around us. Even our family and husbands and in-laws and the relatives.

Earlier, we sat inside the house. with our eyes downcast.. knowing that this is the little world around me and there exists nothing but this. Its not the position of women in society that needs to change. Its the position of women in the mind of the ppl in the society that needs to change... Until then.. we sit outside.. with the entire universe sorrounding us.. with our eyes downcast... i am afraid we are still the same women we were inside the house.

-Divster

This week's dedication

There u go.. choose.. one.. which one? Earings.. or the necklace one?
(lets hope vivek oberoi, her bf, isnt lissenin to this.. :P)

-Divster

Sister of my Heart

'Final Touch' said Anju as she took from her school-bag a black eye pencil and - yes, a lipstick. From where? But I didnt ask. I was learning that my cousin had her secrets too. In the damply lit Jenana bathroom we changed into the bright kurtas that lay light as wings on our skin.

We darkened each other's eyes with inexpert fingers and outlined each other's mouth with the lipstick which was rich maroon quite unsuitable for young girls. But we were reckless by now, giggling as we loosened our braided hair to fall in waves around our flushed faces. When we turned to the mirror to admire ourselves, I was shocked at how grown up we looked, as though we had crossed over a threshold into the house of adulthood. As though there would be no turning back.

'Oh Sudha', Anju breathed. 'You look stunning. People will be lookin at you instead of watching the actresses on the screen.'
'Don't be silly', I replied, giving her a little push. But I was pleased. We stuffed our uniforms into our school-bags and went to get our tickets.

We are lucky: we have good seats with an un-obstructed view of the screen, and though the theatre is crowded, there is an empty seat next to mine where I thankfully drop my schoolbag. I had been nervous about who I would have to sit next to. Whenever we went to the cinema with the mothers, they sat on the outer edges, buffers between us and the world. For a heartbeat, I miss their protective presence.

But the hall is so fascinating with its high ceiling and cornices embossed with plastic flowers, the rich red velvet of its stage curtain, its aisles that give off a sweetish smell like that zarda that women chew after meals. And the people. Even after the start of the film, which is marvellously romantic and sad, just as I had imagined, I cannot stop watching them. The light from the screen casts an unearthy glow on their rapt faces, wiping away lines, lifting away years. As they smile, or touch a handkerchief to their eyes, they appear strangely, heart-catchingly innocent. And yet so mysterious. Even Anju, in the seat next to mine, emotions flitting like moonlit clouds over her face, seems like someone I do not know at all.

Then a male voice says.."Excuse me, is someone sitting here?"

Just my luck! The last thing I want is a strange man sitting next to me, ruining my pleasure in the film by whistling or making crude kissing sounds during the romantic scenes. I've heard schoolmates complaining of such things. Maybe I can tell him that a friend is sitting here, that she just stepped out for a moment?
But when I look at him, I know i need not worry. 'How could u know, Madam Experience?" How many men have you talked to in your lifetime? Anju would ask later. As it happens he got us into an awful lot of trouble. Sometimes you just know, I would tell her. And the trouble we got into was not his fault.

In the pearl light of the theatre, the man's - but he was not much more than a boy himself - eyes glimmer, dark and bright in turns. His smile is at once open and apologetic. His hair tumbles over his forehead. Charmingly, I think.
"Awfully sorry to disturb you, but I think this is my seat." He holds out his ticket towards me, pointing to the number. The cleft of his chin can break a girl's heart.
I lift my schoolbag from the chair. To keep myself from smiling I stare sternly, fixedly at the screen, where the hero has just boarded the night train. In a moment he will see the sleeping heroine and fall in love, unequivocally, irreversibly, in the way of true passion, world without end.
But I can't stop myself from looking just once out of the corner of my eye.

He is intelligent, I can tell that just by how he holds himself, his body relaxed yet alert. Probably a college student from St. Xavier's maybe. Or Presidency. Open at the throat, his white shirt is very clean and smells of mint. And when, heart pounding, I raise my eyes a little higher, his lips are smiling. At me.
How long do we look at each other in that cinema that is neither in the world nor out of it? How long do we remain suspended in that timeless opal light that gave us strange permission? I dont know. I must have glanced at the screen from time to time, though I had long since lost track of the story. ( The heroine is weeping as she reads a letter. Then she is dancing- is it at her beloved's wedding party? She throws a glass on the ground and it shatters, but she keeps dancing, her feet smearing with blood, but the pain is less than that which tears her heart. And then it's the end of the film, with her in his arms --but how did that come about? )
-----------------------
They say in the old tales that when a man and woman exchange looks the way we did, their spirits mingle. Their gaze is a rope of gold binding each to the other. Even if they never meet again, they carry a little of the other with them always. They can never forget, and they can never be wholly happy again.
That is why, in families that kept the ancient traditions, girls were not allowed to meet men until the moment of auspicious seeing, shubho drishti, when the bride and groom gave themselves to each other with their eyes. It wasn't as Anju said, to keep the women ignorant and under control. The elders in their wisdom had done it to prevent heartbreak.
------------------------
"Sudha' Anju shakes my arm urgently. 'Sudha, what's wrong with you? Let's go!"
I try to focus on her words, but her voice comes from somwhere far away. I start to say something reassuring to her, but instead I find myself smiling at my - yes, foolishly, possessively, I think of him as such - my young man.
"Come on" says Anju, and now I see that her face is tight with worry. How ironic that she, the valiant one who has initiated this adventure, should be afraid just when my own timidity has disappeared. 'Let's go, we still have to change into our uniforms. If we dont hurry, we will never be able to get back to the school gates before Singhji arrives."
"Ok" I say. But all of them -- Singhji, the nuns at school, even the mothers with their inevitable anger -- belong to another universe, one that has nothing to do with me.

The young man speaks thoughtfully, musingly. 'Sudha' he says, and in his mouth my name takes on a sweetness, an elegance I never thought it could possess.
Anju draws herself up. "Please move out of the way so that we can get past" she says in her best grown-up voice.
"Yes of course", he says, courteous withought being apologetic. As Anju pushes past him he says, "Sudha, I'm Ashok, Ashok Ghosh. What is your full name?"
Ghosh. The word tolls inside my head like a warning bell. I can hear my mother saying, in her most disapproving patrician tones, What? A lower-caste man? I squeeze shut my eyes, willing her voice to fade.
"Sudha, stop, don't say anything. Anju cries, abandoning sophistication. "We dont know who this man is, what he might do, whom he might tell." She claps her hand over my mouth, but I move it aside. Ashok. The One who Banishes Sorrow. I know he'll never use the knowledge of my name against me.
"I'm Basudha Chatterjee", I say and I smile my most enchanting smile for him.

Anju's trying to pull me towards the door. The hall is almost empty and her voice echoes as she says, "Come on, Sudha. God, am I sorry I suggested coming to the cinema."
"It's OK, Anju don't worry" I say. A great tenderness fills me. Because she is my sister. Because she wants to protect me from harm. Because she is the one who brought Ashok and me together.
"DONT WORRY!" Anju's voice is brittle with desparation. "Don't worry she says. How can I not, when you stand here like your head is filled with cow dung instead of brains? Someone is sure to see you talking to a strange man, and then what will we do??" She yanks hard at me.

"Wait" Ashok extends an arm as though he would stop me. I wonder how his touch would feel, his fingtips electric, but warm also, like summer rain. But he hasn't forgotten the proprieties completely. At the last moment he fists his hand and jams it into his pocket. "Don't go so soon. Can i buy you a soft drink? Can we talk? Even a few minutes ----"
"No" says Anju angrily. "Is your head filled with cow dung too? Didn't you hear me say we would get into trouble at home if anyone saw us here with you? Please, just go away."
"Atleast let me call you a taxi"
"We're going to take the bus" Anju says as she pushes me to the door of the jenana bathroom. I look over shoulder at Ashok's fallen face. I wish I could tell him not to worry, we will surely meet again. But there is just enough time.....before Anju slams the bathroom door...... to say "We live in Baliganj"

"How can you be so stupid?" Anju bursts out even before the echo of the door fades. "You're acting just like one of those silly lovesick girls in the film. The first stranger you meet, just because he happens to sit next to you."
"Not just happens, Anju. Nothing Just Happens. I know ---"
But before I can say more, the door to one of the ladies' stalls swing open.

"GIRLS" says a familiar voice. "Girls is it you? I thought i recognized your voices, but then I thought, No.. not possible. What are you doing here? You should be in school, isn't it so? And what's this I hear? A man? Sitting next to you?" The large billowy form of Sarita Aunty emerges from the stall. She shakes out her sari pleats and stares at us, google-eyed.
"What are you wearing? And look at that STUFF on your LIPS! Like women of the street. Goodness, I had better take you home right away. Oh, just wait till your mothers hear of this!"

And, enormously elated Sarita Aunty grips our arms and holds on, as though she is afraid we might dissolve magically into the ammonia air of the bathroom and deprive her of the season's best gossip story. Her steely fingers dig into our flesh all the way home...

- by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni--- Book : Sister of my Heart

( This indian Author's style of writing is so real and vivid. No fancy words.. but just plain english expressing the traditions of marriage.. and how two sisters fall apart due to their different choices.. and how they come together due to their ever-strong bond of love. )

-Divster

To my inspirator...

This post.. is dedicated to the one.. who inspired me to be here enjoying my blog and others' as well. They say it takes only a glance to change everything. Thats literally what happened. It took only a glance... and one word Amazing. Here's to the unknown.. yet wel-known inspiration of my blog. (Applause!)

Best Regards

-Divster

First woman in space

Why am i not suprised???
(grunts)

-Divster

Good Luck Mr. Gorsky

On July 20, 1969, as commander of the Apollo 11 lunar module, Neil
Armstrong was the first person to set foot on the moon.

His first words after stepping on the moon, "that's one small step for
man, one giant leap for mankind," were televised to earth and heard by
millions. But just before he reentered the lander, he made the
enigmatic remark "GOOD LUCK, MR. GORSKY."

Many people at nasa though it was a casual remark concerning some
rival soviet cosmonaut. However, upon checking, there was no gorsky in
either the Russian or American space programs.

Over the years many people questioned Armstrong as to what the "good
luck, Mr. Gorsky" statement meant, but Armstrong always just smiled.
On July 5, 1995, in Tampa bay, Florida, while answering questions
following a speech, a reporter brought up the 26-year-old question to
Armstrong. This time he finally responded.

Mr. Gorsky had died, so Neil Armstrong felt he could answer the question.

In 1938 when he was a kid in a small Midwest town, he was playing
baseball with a friend in the backyard. His friend hit the ball, which
landed in his neighbor's yard by the bedroom windows. His neighbors
were Mr. And Mrs. Gorsky.

As he leaned down to pick up the ball, young Armstrong heard Mrs.
Gorsky shouting at Mr. Gorsky.

"SEX! YOU WANT SEX?! YOU'LL GET SEX WHEN THE KID NEXT DOOR WALKS ON THE MOON!"

THE HOMECOMING( article )

I found this article in Femina.. quite interesting. And for several readin this.. it might prove useful for ur futuristic ideas of settling down.

With India opening up her shores and laying out the red carpet for foriegn investors, a lot of Young NRIs seem to be coming back home. Is it an inherent need to be back in your own country, close to your roots? Or is it a cultural feeling -- wanting your children to grow up amidst the Indian culture with strong family ties?

While many are still leaving the country for better prospects abroad, we found a few odd balls--young, NRI-returned couples in Bangalore City and decided to find out what really prompted their return, and how they're coping with it all.

Kranti, who has done her masters in computer science and worked in the US for more than 10 years but chose to came back two years ago, says , "We came back because our long term goal had always been to come back and settle in India. We were very happy there but, from the children's point of view, we felt coming back would be better. Also, we wanted to be close to our parents, they are getting old. We can take care of them better if we are here as any city would be just an hour's journey away."

Says Padmaja Bobba, a financial consultant, who lived in the US for a decade and a half, "we are here for a short time, and we'll be going back. But I think coming back has been good for the kids, they got to know the family better. Earlier they were like aliens, my son Nihar would greet his grandmother with a 'Hi'. Coming back to INdia they can understand our culture and values, and this is certainly good for them."

For Mona Chaddha, an engineer by profession, the driving force to come back was not just to get her children familiar with the culture, but her husband who started missing India. "We came back because my husband was missing being close to his family. For the children, too, we felt it would be good, as they should see what the other side is like, there is poverty here, and life is not easy. Here, they are exposed to less priveleged people and it has been a learning curve for them."

So, just for those living here, what was life like in the US? Says Padmaja,"Suprisingly, we were more religious there than we are here. The temples and the gurudwaras were a hub of social activity and we would make regular visits to these places. But here, religion and culture is all in the open, you dont feel the need to deligently follow anything strictly."

And the flip side of being in India now, Mona explains that, "None of the schools here live up to US standards. The training, creativity, and freedom of free thinkin is all missing in INdia. Even if the kids are attending some of the best schools in town." In terms of friends and a social life, she adds, "People are very friendly there. You interact with people from different nationalities, different cultures and the social life is very good."

And one last crucial question: Would they ever consider going back? Padmaja says candidly, "we plan to go back for the kids' higher school and university education. But first, we would like to build our base here. Once the kids are older, we would like to spend six months here and six months there."

Ah! tryin to get the best of both worlds, wouldnt u say?

-Divster

Sigh

Sigh...........

Tough week ahead....

Miss u best friend.

Luv,
-Divster

Currency Market

Wondering.. wat the significance of this in my blog.
Well.. to start with its the Brussels EU building with the bigg Sign of Euro.

Its also one way to encourage me to study for the
Politics and Policy of the EU exam. (uh oh..)

Guess.. what.. the age-old-rivalry.. thats said to be between NATO and EU.. is only 15 mins drive.. apart in Brussels..(woah)

-Divster

Wow

My fav fav. absolute fav actor/model/guy..
is him..Abhishek Bachchan

WOW... WOW.. WOW...
Is he checkin me out...??..... (blushes)

-Divster

Ek chota sa Luv story (ok maybe not that small)

It was a lovely December morning in the hottest city in the world. All right, so that was a little unfair. Chennai is not the hottest city in the world. But it certainly is the city with the most uncomfortable weather among the cities that I have lived in. And i've been around. But I digress.

I was in the company bus on my way to work, as usual trying to catch up with my sleep. On this particular day, a girl got on the bus, came to my seat and sat down. "Good Morning", she said. I looked back at her through half closed eyes, replied "Good Night", and then proceeded to return to my half hour nap before the bus reached the office. Unfortunately, I was woken up by a punch in the arm.

"Wake up, bozo!" SHe was looking at me with a big smile on her face. "Im not sitting next to you to listen to you snore."

Half-heartedly, I opened my eyes and turned to her. "What's up?" I asked.

Preeti Mehra was tall, good-looking and slightly tomboyish. She was also my best buddy. "Come on", she said. "Don't look so disappointed. You'd rather sleep than talk to me?"

"I talk to you everyday, Preeti."
"You also sleep everyday."
"It's not enough."
"So you've had enough of talking to me, eh?"

You can't argue with a statement like that, so I had to give up. I grinned and said, "OK, sweetheart. What's on your mind?"

"I wanted to tell you what happend yesterday. Can you guess?"
"Anurag called you last night."
"How did you know?" She was stunned.
"Oh, he asked me for your number yesterday."
"And you gave it to him?"
"What else could I do? And stop complaining. You've been drooling over him for weeks now. He must have thought he had a chance."

Preeti was the kind of girl who would openly ogle at every other guy she saw. And yet, she would not respond to any advances of a romantic nature. She'd happily join a group of boys to go to a cricket match, but if asked out to a movie, dinner, or even coffee, she'd never say yes. She defined 'Hard-To-Get.'

"You like putting me in these situations, don't you?" she said
"No. That's not true. I love putting you in these situations!" That invited another punch in the arm.
I had known Preeti for a year. We'd tell each other about our joys and our sorrows, our victories and our defeats. I'd tell her about all my crushes and she'd scold me for being silly. She'd drag me to classical music concerts and I'd add them to the list of things she 'owed me' for. And though I never let it show, I must say that she punched pretty hard...
---------------------------------
It was 12:00 am and my phone was ringing. "Hello," I said, as I picked it up.

"Happy Birthday!" It was she.
"You're supposed to throw me a surprise party, sweetheart. Not just call to say Happy Birthday."
Well then open your door, dumbo!"
So I did and found her, cell-phone in hand, at my doorstep -- with what seemed like half the population of my company. My roommates were supposed to be working late that night. Now I knew why.I blew a lot of candles (seemed like much more than 25), cut my cake,got kicked in the behind, and got painted with the cake's icing. If Preeti had had her way, she'd probably have preferred to use a paintbrush and a can of paint. But I bribed her with a copy of the book "Lord

of the Rings". She'd borrowed it from me three times already. I thought it was about time I gave her a copy for herself. We chatted for an hour after everyone had gone. "I think it's time I left," she said finally, trying to stifle a yawn. I nodded. I dropped her home in my roommate's car. As she was getting out of the car, I stopped her.
"Hey, Preeti."
"What?"
"Thanks."
"Hey, don't get senti on me now!" she smiled. "Are you trying to worm out of that gift you promised me?"
"You know, it's interesting how I'm getting you a gift on my birthday."
"That's just because you're stupid," she grinned. "And you better get me that book, or I won't return your copy."
"Hey, that copy was a gift to me from my dear friend Preeti Mehra. I can't let you keep that."
She wasn't falling for that. "Your dear friend? And what about me? Am I not dear to you?"
"Very smart. That won't work with me. I'm not one of your Love Crazy suitors. Why do you need the book anyway? You've read it umpteen times already."
"That is besides the point. You are getting me the book. We both know that."
She smiled that wide confident smile of hers. "Good night." And she got out of the car.
I sat there for some time, just thinking. Our conversations were alwayslike this - a little joking, a little teasing and a lot of demanding. But somehow, I felt that something had changed since the moment she had turned up at my door that night. I was still in my reverie when a paper ball landed on the windshield. I craned my neck out of the window and looked up. She was standing in her balcony.
"What are you still doing there?" she whispered loudly.
"Waiting for you to start a paper-ball fight," I whispered back.
"We can do that tomorrow. Go home now. It's way past your bedtime!"
"Ok, mommy," I grinned back. "I'm going home now!"
----------------------------------------------
I'm an extravagant gift-giver, and it is definitely going to be my downfall some day. I made her wait for it, but finally bought her the book. That, and half-a-dozen other omnibus collections of various authors, including a copy each of `The Complete Works of Shakespeare' and `The Complete Short Stories of Charles Dickens'. All I got for it was an "I told you so."I started spending a lot of time at her place after that. Mostly because I wanted to read all those books, and she wouldn't lend them to me.
"I'm not as stupid as you, ape-man. I'm not falling into the same trap I laid for you. Plus, you dog-ear your books. You're not doing that to these masterpieces. So if you want to read them, you read them here.And if you want to mark your place, use a bookmark."
So that's what I did. She'd even make me wash my hands before I touched the books. It was as if they were sacred.
"Need I remind you that it was me that bought you the books in the first place? For my birthday!"
"So? They're mine now."
"Well, then. I've been meaning to ask you this for a long time. Where exactly is my birthday gift?"
"It was in your tummy at one point of time. It's probably been washed into the sea by now."
"Huh?"
"Remember the cake I baked you on your birthday?"
"You what? You can't bake cakes!" That was a mistake. She looked hurt.
"You baked me a cake?" She didn't say a word. She just shrugged.
I was stunned. "But you never told me."
"You didn't ask." That was typical of her.
"It was fantastic! And you wasted most of the icing on me!"
"The cake was for you, dumbo."
"How long did it take you to make the whole thing?" It had been a two-layered vanilla-chocolate cake with three flavors of very creamy icing. She had done all that!
"Well, the chocolate cake took an hour and fifteen minutes, and so did the vanilla. Then cutting them up and putting them together took another 15 minutes. Each flavor of icing took 20 minutes for preparation, and then putting it on the cake took another half hour.Cleaning up the mess took an hour."
She seldom claimed the credit for anything, but once she started bragging, there was no stopping her. However, I wasn't thinking aboutthat right then.
"You spent over five hours on that cake?"
"A little over four hours preparing it, and an hour cleaning up. Yes."
I was speechless. I didn't know how to react. She hated cooking.
"I forgot to mention," she continued, "the hours I spent the week before that, practicing. Even the birds wouldn't touch the first three cakes!"
I couldn't help but ask. "Why?"
"Because the first one got burnt, the second one was only half cooked,and in the third one, I forgot to add sugar."
It was just like her, to try to divert the conversation. "I mean why did you spend so much time on baking me a cake?"
She looked at me like I'd asked her why the sun rises in the east. "For your birthday, stupid. Of course, I also wanted to beat every gift you've ever got me. Try beating this one." She was grinning like she'd won the world championship.
As far as I was concerned, she had. I'd never spent a week making her anything. I'd never even spent an hour making her anything. Getting her a gift normally involved me taking her to the store, letting her choose and use my credit card. Suddenly, I felt cheap.
"Thanks," was the only thing I could say.
"Thanks a lot."
"Hey. Are you getting senti on me again?"
I was.
-----------------------------------------------------
I was still mulling over my feelings for Preeti the next day at work when my boss asked to speak to me.I went over to his cabin and he started with the usual greetings, asking how work was going and whether I was comfortable. He then told me that the company wanted to send me to New York for a couple of years. Normally, this wouldn't have made much of a difference to me. I could work anywhere and didn't have too much love for visiting places foreign. But right then, the first thought that came to me was that I'd be away from Preeti for two whole years. Twenty-four hours before, I'd have been disappointed to lose her company. But right then, I was devastated. That was when I knew I was in love with her. I'd had crushes before. Lots of them. But this was different.

"Do you have any problem in going?" my boss asked, since I hadn't responded.
"Not really," I replied. What else could I say? That I was in love, and couldn't bear the separation?
"When do I have to leave?"
I had a month.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Wow! New York! Great! I've heard it's a fantastic city! Did you know it snows there in winter?"
Preeti was obviously very excited about my going. She didn't seem to share my disappointment on what I now saw as 'separation'. I had not decided then if I was going to tell her how I felt. We'd known each other for a little over a year, and we were very close, but beyond some mild flirting, the relationship had never got even close to romantic. That was, of course, until I found out she had spent a week baking me a cake. It's funny how small things seem to make such a big difference.

"What happened?" she asked. "You don't seem very happy."
"Oh," I replied, "it's just that it's so sudden, that's all. And you know I was never all that interested in going to America."
"What an idiot. Go see the place. I've heard the women there are amazingly beautiful."
She had a sly smile on her face. I wanted to tell her I didn't care if I laid my eyes on another woman again, if she wasn't with me.

But I didn't.I realized that I only had another month with her. She'd rejected every guy who'd asked her out ever since I'd known her. I didn't want the same to happen to me, and I didn't want to make it awkward between us. I didn't want to risk that month. I wanted it to be the best time I had ever spent with her. After I came back from the US, I might not even get to meet her again. Two years was a long time.

We ate out almost every night. We visited some of the best restaurants in the city. She also helped me shop for warm clothes, formalwear, shoes, toothpaste and a million things I'd never have thought of on my own.
"You need to buy a nail-cutter." My roommates and I shared one.
"I've prepared a list of must-have medicines that you should carry."
"Your iron won't work in the US. No point buying one here as you need one that works at a hundred and ten volts and has flat pins. You can buy one at a K-Mart or Wal-Mart as soon as you get there."
"You need at least two pairs of formal shoes and at least ten pairs of dark socks. The East Coast has a formal dress code. And you won't do your laundry more than once a week or two."
"How many ties do you have? And which trousers do your blazers go with?"
"Better get a haircut before you leave from here. Knowing you, you'll postpone the first haircut for too long."
She'd call me up at one in the morning to tell me to add 'one more item' to my list.

And with every passing day, I was falling more deeply in love with her. The month swept by quickly. The day I was supposed to leave, I asked her to come with me to the airport. "Of course, dumbo. You think I'd let you go just like that, or what?" After packing my bags for me and checking the lists for the hundredth time, she finally pronounced me "Good to go." We reached the airport four hours early to beat the rush, because it was an international flight. She got a visitor's pass to sit in the waiting area while I went ahead and checked-in my bags. Preeti had got a spring balance from somewhere and so we knew my bags were well within the weight limit. I finished the formalities and came to sit with her. We had only a few hours before I had to go for my security-check. We decided to get something to eat at the food court. And all the time, the one thing that was going through my head was that, after this, I wouldn't see her for at least another two years.

"Hey, Champ. Why so glum?" She saved 'Champ' for special days.
Normally, it was just 'dumbo', 'bozo', 'ape-man', 'matchstick man', 'weirdo', or if she was very irritated with me, 'nutcase'.
"I don't want to go," I said.
"I don't want you to go either."
"No, you don't understand." I couldn't hold it in any longer.
"I can't stand the thought of living without you by my side."
She stared at me. There was a strange look in her eyes. I couldn't read it.

"I am madly in love with you, Preeti."

At this, a sound escaped her lips that sounded like a cross between a sob and a laugh.
"Well, dumbo, you've picked an absolutely fabulous time to tell me about it!"
A tear escaped her eyes. It was all I could do to stop myself from wiping it off her cheeks.
"How long have you felt this way?" She seemed amused, though she was definitely crying. I didn't know what to make of it.
"From the day I found out you had baked me a cake."
She laughed. "That's all it took? Well, bozo, I guess a way to a man's heart is certainly through his stomach! Hold it. A month? You waited a month? You were the one who kept saying that if you really liked a girl you wouldn't waste a day in telling her!" She was smiling widely now.
It looked funny, with her eyes all wet.
"Well, I was confused. How did I know how you'd react? In fact, I still don't understand your reaction. I thought it would change things between us. You've rejected every guy who ever proposed to you!"

"That's because I'm in love with you, you overgrown idiot!"

"What?" Somehow, I'd never expected her to say that. She was in love with me? "How long have you been in love with me?"
"Ever since the day you offered to carry my suitcase for me."
"But that was the first day I met you!"
"I guess I was always a sucker for chivalry."
"All this time you've been in love with me and you never said anything! Then you go and complain that I waited a month!"
"You guys are so bad at reading a girl's mind."
"You women are so good at keeping your thoughts a secret! Even Einstein couldn't figure you out."
"Einstein was a nerd. Casanova, on the other hand, understood us very well."

"I love you."

"I know."

That moment, my dear friends, was magic. I looked into her eyes and took her hands in mine. Physical contact for us had been limited, until then, to a punch in the arm, a slap on the back of the head, or giving each other a 'high five'.

"You realize, don't you," she said, "that this is our first date?" Leave it to her to notice the little things.
"I really don't want to go." I'd always maintained that love is a bucketful of emotions. I wasn't exactly delighted to be proved right.
"Don't worry. I'm coming there in a couple of months."
"How? On a dependent visa?"
She laughed. "For that, I'll have to wait, won't I? I've got a project in New Jersey."

I couldn't believe my ears. "What? When did that happen? You never even told me!"
"Well, I wasn't sure you'd propose before you left. And I couldn't exactly sacrifice you to those New York women, could I? I had to watch out for myself. So I went on a project-hunting spree. There is an opportunity coming up for a project in about two months. Someone is coming back to India, so I'll be taking his place. They want me there for a little less than two years."
She was beaming. "I realized I had struck gold!"
"And if I'd not told you how I felt? When were you planning on telling me about it?"
"Around a month before I reached there. I had to make it look natural.Or you'd think I was desperate."
"Well, you are desperate!" This was incredible. All I'd done in the past month had been to mope around, listen to sad songs and write her letters that I never intended her to read.
"You've been scheming all this while! How come you didn't lay a trap for me a year ago?"
"I tried giving you hints, dumbo, but you just wouldn't pay attention!"
She was laughing. "You're the only guy I ever spent any time with.Wasn't that a big enough hint?"

That was true. She would happily join a group of boys to go to a cricket match, but I now realized, only if I was one of them.
"What if I had rejected you?" I was extremely flattered that she'd been crazy about me for a year. My ego was swelling.
"You must be kidding!" she was clearly amused.
"I get proposed to every few days. You are the one who's been rejected more times in the last year than I can count on two pairs of hands!"

She really knew how to burst my bubble.
"Hey," she said softly, "don't look so dejected. I said 'Yes', didn't I?"

I grinned. "Yes, you did. And you've made me a very happy man. But youknow what would make me even happier?" "What?"
"If you learn to cook as good as you bake cakes."
So she punched me in the arm again.

AND THEY LIVED PUNCHING HAPPY EVERY AFTER.. (is laughin but is also in emotional tears... luv stories always have happy ending.. but that makes us cry more....)

Source: *Forward that i received through an email.*

Communist School

Thats my University. Karl Marx's proud statue is right there.
Our university was original Karl Marx University! It stayed throughout
the raise and fall of Soviet Empire. And not to mention both the World Wars.
Hehe. no no. i dont go to Communist school. Its now a liberal economic school since the fall of Soviet in 1990
Its an authentic Building. This is just the main hall where all the
main economic meetings of Eastern Europe takes place.

Wonder who is that girl who messed up the solo Marx picture. LOL

-Divster

Diamonds r Forever

" Diamonds R Forever...
Kanye West sang this song...
Wonders will it be long...
Before sumone buys this for Divster... "

-Divster

How Dazzling can u get ???

How Dazzling can U get???
I luvvv Purple...
Naw..relax.. these r not ma eyes(giggles)

But this make-up is just so...

~~ DAZZLIN~~


-divster

World Around Me.. and World of Thoughts Inside Me

I dedicate this blog
To the world around me... and
To the world of thoughts inside me...

Life is just unnaturally full of twisted tales n never-ending dramas. LoL! So thought to myself why not enjoy all those moments and share them with you.. eh?
What is special about today is that.. it is the tenth-day of the biggest festival of India called "Navratri'(translated - 'nine nights'). Just thought.. the divinity inside shud be expressed in as many words as possible out here. Hehehe.

Just want to make this blog..as a special part of me.. I starteda blog before called me myself n I.. but one day i logged in to the blogger site only to find that this site has been moved. I just felt soo vexed learning that all ma words have vanished in thin air. Then.. i did a mistake of misplacing my blogger Id and password.. which made things worse. (blushes).

But here i am back! Wanting to make my mind a lot lighter.. by making this blog brighterr !!!

-Divster