tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665588122606274922024-03-05T02:51:36.798-08:00Catch Your Angel Before She Falls.Born with an enormous need for affection, and a terrible need to give it.SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-80427352336701083562015-01-05T11:16:00.000-08:002015-01-06T00:35:47.107-08:00She Is Me.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
She's hopeful; she seeks possibilities everywhere, clinging on to the riskiest of edges, refusing to let go. She allows herself to get cut by beautiful sharp objects because she overlooks the sharpness and appreciates the beauty.<br />
She rubs rocks to produce diamonds but doesn't discard the ones that refuse to be transformed. Instead, she nurtures them, finding other means of using the smooth, blunt pieces of earth.<br />
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Her eyes are always smiling; for every ounce of sadness, she rewards herself with a double shot of joy. Her heart beats for everyone; it pounds the fastest when she sees faces radiating with happiness.<br />
They bite her, ripping apart her soul, holding her hostage in the realms of their promises. She believes and accepts, overcoming every lie and every broken promise. She gives second chances, but doesn't stop at two. Numbers for her are infinite and chances - double infinity.<br />
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She forgives, she forgets; her heart is molten, they twist it and crush it but it grows bigger and bigger every time it's touched. It weeps harder than her eyes, trying to wash away all the pain it endures. She runs to those who touch her soul, her body - not so much. Open your arms wide open and she'll give you the world, push her away and watch her fall - one, two, three times till she finally starts building a wall.<br />
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You can't force yourself to cross over that wall. It's constructed with bricks of pain, cemented with the shattered pieces of her heart, supported by the dark parts of her soul that finally escaped. But she'll let you in, she'll always let you in. She's naive, she's accepting - she won't shut you out. The wall is a mirage; it's only for her eyes.<br />
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She's gentle, she loves deeply but don't expect her to be clingy because she's powerful. She won't cut you, but one day, the wrinkles around her eyes will disappear. She'll continue smiling because adversity will always be her best friend and giving up - her enemy.<br />
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She is me.</div>
SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-50767923975974851712014-12-29T22:35:00.003-08:002014-12-29T22:35:39.312-08:00Serendipity.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Last month, I was walking to town in a terrible mood, on a surprisingly pleasant day in Cardiff; it was comfortably sunny with no sign of rain. I remember feeling extremely flustered for some reason - my handbag refused to stay on my shoulder for more than 5 seconds, my jacket was too warm and my shoes weren't being very helpful, either. If those 10 minutes were to have a background score, it'd definitely be "Boulevard of Broken Dreams".<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXAtq0AAhy2OP1v1XVS89oFYTSrx7_XtXKqdZ85ihaSqbAErHnreW7_EOgFnAbOxZ2E835oGu8HMgst6oIun20Qp6sBWRR8BSxJu5QdHJkW1pudLRWJNteTQFE4e5xciez-FaeS0yXSho/s1600/799d5bec0faf25a6f75698091a3e6c53.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXAtq0AAhy2OP1v1XVS89oFYTSrx7_XtXKqdZ85ihaSqbAErHnreW7_EOgFnAbOxZ2E835oGu8HMgst6oIun20Qp6sBWRR8BSxJu5QdHJkW1pudLRWJNteTQFE4e5xciez-FaeS0yXSho/s1600/799d5bec0faf25a6f75698091a3e6c53.jpg" height="320" width="211" /></a>I managed to carry my sorry self to the first coffee shop I saw and mumbled my order to the Barista who asked me if I was alright. Now this wasn't the typical greeting that most of us throw at each other because he seemed genuinely concerned. I forced a smile <span style="text-align: left;">and told him that I was just having a bad day, inching my way towards a table to avoid small talk. Within a few minutes, he brought my coffee to me and handed me a small note which read -</span><b style="text-align: left;"> It's just a bad day, not a bad life :).</b></div>
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Being the Pinterest-er that I am, such quotes hold a special place in my heart and this small gesture really made me melt. I giggled and thanked him and went back to the book I was reading. The next 10 minutes, however, involved me reading the same page over and over and over again, comprehending absolutely nothing. My mind wandered to everything that had happened in the past few months - rejection, unworthiness, pain, blame games and guilt. </div>
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I looked up and saw the same Barista, singing to himself, making small talk with the customers and having the time of his life whilst serving coffee. If there's one thing about me that I'm proud of, is the ability to see the positive in every stormy situation and I sat horrified, realizing how negative I had been, lately. Instead of gathering myself up and all the rocks that life was happily throwing at me, I was slowly tearing myself apart.</div>
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For the next few minutes, I laughed and cried and softly slapped myself awake from the million delusions I'd clouded my mind with. I decided that escaping from reality wasn't going to help my situation in any way. Sure, I could drink my fears and pain away every night of the week but would the excruciating pain in my head, the next day, make anything easier? </div>
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Physical pain might be way more comfortable than emotional pain but is living with any kind of pain a possible solution to all the challenges in life? </div>
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I immediately took out my phone and noted down everything that had made me smile in 2014 - right from my achievements in February to the small note from the Barista in November. I then went on to pen down whatever I wasn't too happy about and surprisingly, this list ended after 2 points. I stared at my screen for the longest time, trying to think of more negative situations. Surely, I couldn't be THIS disturbed because of one or two things? Realization came in the form of a phone call from my mother and ended with a massive smile on my face as I walked back home. She told me that change occurs for a reason - it might break you, but it also transforms you into a person you never thought you'd become. We can't control situations or the minds of others, but controlling ourselves is possible.</div>
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I introspected for the next few days and concluded that I can't possibly look for happiness in some place, some person or some situation unless and until I don't find it within myself. </div>
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Today, if you see me smile, you'll know the reason behind it. It's definitely not a person or an object or a glass of wine; it's just me, accepting my unadulterated self, learning to live with everything that life has to offer and filling up bags with all the rocks thrown at me to eventually build a fort.</div>
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Happy New Year!</div>
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SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-56736321367743462732014-07-12T00:22:00.000-07:002014-07-13T07:08:22.824-07:00Thank you, Maa. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
She worries a lot, abandoning her beautiful smile for a forlorn expression. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you Maa, I thought you'd get angry", I remember telling her once, when she asked me why I hadn't told her that I'd hurt myself. I knew it was a silly excuse, that she would have found out anyway; mother's instinct, she calls it.<br />
She usually walks with her head held high. "Because I'm your mother and you make me proud everyday", she says. Little does she know that every time she walks with me, I'm the proud one. Not only because she's the most perfect mother in the world, but because every time she walks with me, her head lowers down, to look over every step I take, making sure I don't stumble.<br />
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She isn't a typical Indian housewife and to be honest, she was never brought up to be one. My grandparent's ambitious nature carved her into an accomplished career woman; 9 to 5 job, client meetings et al. In the midst of her passion to work, she jumped from obstacles to more obstacles, struggling to "fit in" and be "accepted" for who she was. Come to think of it, a newly married woman working at an ad agency and later at a travel agency, spending hours with clients - how could our society come to terms with such a bold move, especially when things were a bit rocky at home?<br />
It is her integrity, self-respect, humility and morals that I am most thankful for, today. Not only did she swear by these qualities at every moment of her life, but also made it a point to instill them in me, right from the beginning. Her boldest move however, was when she finally stopped <br />
working to fit in, and instead, started working to give me the most beautiful life.<br />
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"My heart breaks when your heart breaks", my mother whispered. "I broke up Maa, not you", I exclaimed, wiping her tears.<br />
My mother is a quaintrelle. She also makes everyone's problems her own and lives her life for others, constantly trying to help those around her. I wish I was as sacrificing as she is and I know that I probably would never be. Her passion lies in helping people and after 20 long years she finally decided to pursue psychology and art therapy. Today, when I see her running from one workplace to another, stopping at home for a bite of lunch, I try not to feel too overwhelmed. It is her passion that has allowed me to study in one of the most expensive countries. But it is also her idea of commitment and hard work, that has truly helped me survive there.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbCXk0Mz96Vsy2wfhXJIPhRIjcA9ctDK2mMEQIiAFq2NIHaO2x1pRVTA_BhWJ1Koy2qH7e2UOpAl3SDOZtJPQGQZzy0nP9AXyk6puKIQy82P-4gVQEXneenFGf8pmol8ZpW9opbQxNIpM/s1600/Snapchat-20140607115920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbCXk0Mz96Vsy2wfhXJIPhRIjcA9ctDK2mMEQIiAFq2NIHaO2x1pRVTA_BhWJ1Koy2qH7e2UOpAl3SDOZtJPQGQZzy0nP9AXyk6puKIQy82P-4gVQEXneenFGf8pmol8ZpW9opbQxNIpM/s1600/Snapchat-20140607115920.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a>There have been days when I've been applauded for being who I am, when I've done well in a test, a competition or life, in general. They applaud my hard work and my personal qualities, but I just smile, trying not to feel too proud of my mother. Had it not been for her million sacrifices, her missed outings with friends, her working from home till I was independent enough, her habit of keeping a check on wherever I go and her values which taught me to always face my fears, speak the truth and live respectfully, I wouldn't be the person I am today.<br />
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"Nana always wanted me to be lawyer and I thought it was a perfect career for me.", she said, reminiscing about her college days. "I got married very early, but promise me you will stand on your own feet before you become a Mrs. XYZ".<br />
4 years ago, she urged me to follow me dreams because she couldn't follow hers. But I chose to follow her dreams instead, making them mine. After all, I am, quite literally, a part of her.<br />
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SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-2233728458874510772014-05-18T01:13:00.001-07:002014-05-18T01:16:44.580-07:00Who Am I In This "Cupcake" Called Life?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Change is never easy. It's a major battle between letting go and holding on, with a more than evident winner.<br />
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Since the past two years, I've come to accept change as something so acquiescent, that it's difficult for me to actually believe that turning the pages of one's life has a possibility to be attached to negativity. These two years have helped me discover myself. They've made me challenge my beliefs, forgive, introspect constantly and accept myself for the person I am. Heck, everyday I learn something new, not about my neighbor or someone who lives a 1000 miles away from me, but about myself, and there's not greater feeling than finally, FINALLY, knowing who I am.</div>
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So here's a list of my top five "<b>Who Am I?</b>" moments:<br />
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<li>I prefer<b> </b><i><b>intellectual conversations over mindless gossip</b>-</i> Even a tad bit of gossip/bad mouthing or even knowing about the ABC of some XYZ person's life doesn't interest me anymore. I'd rather talk about people who did some good in the world, who changed people and affected their mindsets, their beliefs and their choices. I'd rather spend hours talking about a literature, cuisines, politics (learning) , culture and religion than sit and judge people who I might not even see some 4-5 years later.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ-x8rtdopMui69Erp35z13tPp-VZf4ie_QL4yRoB2kEswIohYd9_DV2iagcjz3ePZbreLvojbZG3x70rBScBA5H-HrMDLdirDJkFMqHTEksksFtqXjv3IYuHfTvk7ZKrKigSKRjzrM_E/s1600/book-writing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ-x8rtdopMui69Erp35z13tPp-VZf4ie_QL4yRoB2kEswIohYd9_DV2iagcjz3ePZbreLvojbZG3x70rBScBA5H-HrMDLdirDJkFMqHTEksksFtqXjv3IYuHfTvk7ZKrKigSKRjzrM_E/s1600/book-writing.jpg" height="211" width="320" /></a></div>
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<li>I like being a <i><b>loner</b></i> sometimes- The definition of a loner in my dictionary is quite similar to the one in the actual dictionary. It's just very different from how people define it; who judge loners as people who have no friends or find it difficult to socialize. I'm blessed with both - amazing friends and the ability to socialize, but I need my space and a lot of time to myself. I love writing and reading and I'd be an absolute fail at both, if I were constantly surrounded by people.</li>
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<li><i><b>I don't enjoy alcohol</b>- </i>I know I'm in college and most people might just laugh at me for saying this but alcohol is something I really, really do not enjoy consuming. An occasional glass of wine or a cocktail is all I can manage. This doesn't mean that I can't handle my drink because really, almost always, I'm the most sober amongst my group of friends. This also doesn't mean that I don't have fun when I don't go out. Not drinking is a choice and is, in no way, attached to having fun. I won't deny that I haven't enjoyed drinking earlier, but now, I've just realised that it isn't really my idea of fun. But hey, I'm not judging here. It's a free world.</li>
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<ul style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtprcB5aRWGj1YAD86ygCVfIMkHchPkN6e6XBe3xEBdgYXsYxjNNOTZWDMPzGcMkrvv5ksVBdMnmyEc-tmhuwnzeXxNJifi8wrtmusQKpWIHpd_OEzORph3XlTNX3vi4U6QKIh892d8nQ/s1600/tumblr_n4pby9tMpE1spgpb5o1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtprcB5aRWGj1YAD86ygCVfIMkHchPkN6e6XBe3xEBdgYXsYxjNNOTZWDMPzGcMkrvv5ksVBdMnmyEc-tmhuwnzeXxNJifi8wrtmusQKpWIHpd_OEzORph3XlTNX3vi4U6QKIh892d8nQ/s1600/tumblr_n4pby9tMpE1spgpb5o1_500.gif" height="212" width="320" /></a>
<li>I've <b><i>stopped caring about people judging me</i></b>- I've come to believe that as long as I live with dignity and am focused on what I need to achieve in life, what people say or think about me, is the least of my concern. I've been brought up with values that force me to never do or say bad, and towards the end of the day, I'm not answerable to those 5-6 people who talk about me for no reason, but to those who actually brought me up to be the person I am today. I don't feel the need to clarify my words or actions because those who have to judge, will do it anyway. And this is a huge change, coming from someone like me. </li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDkgj6RNqchqqs6kQzrOdV83iu2sYyA-xV7-vISZ0getl9cp7wnNfFrbk0TwqRUICv6ZBCthr2JQZ13L9vvqmeWeg-00X0_vTXOMhy4QthrRPpObxbQCZiWhansViqZZNzmgPERMReVCQ/s1600/1533730_10152396431149740_5880493372658328320_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDkgj6RNqchqqs6kQzrOdV83iu2sYyA-xV7-vISZ0getl9cp7wnNfFrbk0TwqRUICv6ZBCthr2JQZ13L9vvqmeWeg-00X0_vTXOMhy4QthrRPpObxbQCZiWhansViqZZNzmgPERMReVCQ/s1600/1533730_10152396431149740_5880493372658328320_n.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></div>
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<li><i><b>Nature is my happy place</b></i> - I've been tutoring a 12th grade student who lives near the most beautiful park I've ever seen. It's got a massive lake with these gorgeous swans and ducks swimming around, pretty flowers, a tiny stream running down a rocky terrain and hundreds of adorable dogs and babies - trust me, it's breathtaking. Visiting it has become a ritual for me. Twice a week, I leave a little early for my tuitions just to spend a good half an hour in that park. I occupy an entire bench near the lake and observe, just observe. And I would be lying if I said it wasn't the most peaceful thing to do. </li>
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We're all living a mechanical life, and no one is to blame. But amidst all the hastiness, take a break. Stop over thinking, stop living according to the society's expectations, discover yourself, change yourself if need be, take a walk, observe people around you but don't judge, appreciate the small things in life and even the big ones, don't take anything or anyone for granted, respect people without them demanding it, love freely - no strings attached and lastly, don't be afraid - to feel something, to say something, to believe in something because this your life is entirely and wholly yours - people are like sprinkles, the added bit, which you can do without, as long as you're the batter of this delicious cupcake called life.</div>
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SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-5695232684564726232014-03-16T18:12:00.002-07:002014-03-16T18:18:27.819-07:00If tears could build a stairway.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Where did you go<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpiWpcqRrMp0RUyLzfciwelCFlzHcYB-TYB9RccboIxc3Pr2csxC4-igIvOhyphenhyphen4wij1EOAlZxG2FkUUW10boRz9gqp29lrjWQg14ZCbl1-h-eEWeV2dMLYGgmPT2JX3QbL7UOypKgT_l90/s1600/Corbis-42-17373468.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpiWpcqRrMp0RUyLzfciwelCFlzHcYB-TYB9RccboIxc3Pr2csxC4-igIvOhyphenhyphen4wij1EOAlZxG2FkUUW10boRz9gqp29lrjWQg14ZCbl1-h-eEWeV2dMLYGgmPT2JX3QbL7UOypKgT_l90/s1600/Corbis-42-17373468.jpg" height="208" width="320" /></a></div>
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How do I find you again</div>
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Whispering your name beneath the blinds of my heart</div>
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Or clamoring it as I slowly fall apart?</div>
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I can feel you around me</div>
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Clasping my hand as I take an awry step</div>
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I look around for you, I clutch the air</div>
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Blinking away my tears of despair<br />
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I look up, I see you shining<br />
Hiding behind the moon, with those teasing eyes<br />
My guardian angel, my guiding light<br />
I miss you every day, every night</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn5Ycpp1Nzx7vTFW5jqGrWTMJ79v5f0oK_I1QdokqnZwN-KdLqCp3igN_fI-hF0ggZ35nw4X4Mmv_ULC_aAJ0BI7kXmq_H3Aw4ix6A-W0RbvM2EtBOIQ9KV-9PiDgNOie8iS-NYytBOMU/s1600/Sirius-Black-sirius-black-28235996-400-300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn5Ycpp1Nzx7vTFW5jqGrWTMJ79v5f0oK_I1QdokqnZwN-KdLqCp3igN_fI-hF0ggZ35nw4X4Mmv_ULC_aAJ0BI7kXmq_H3Aw4ix6A-W0RbvM2EtBOIQ9KV-9PiDgNOie8iS-NYytBOMU/s1600/Sirius-Black-sirius-black-28235996-400-300.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a>He summoned you too fast</div>
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Were you even ready to let go?</div>
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One last breath, one last laugh</div>
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I wish you could've just asked for more</div>
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Now when I look back</div>
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Into my reservoir of memories I see</div>
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The warmth in your eyes, that delightful smile</div>
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The tender hugs and your timeless style</div>
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All I have left is</div>
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The eternal love between you and I</div>
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But I'll see you in years to come</div>
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And take those walks again, holding your thumb.</div>
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Love you always, Nanu.</div>
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SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-57756724182524378262013-10-27T09:14:00.001-07:002013-12-06T19:00:55.832-08:00Can I Fall Back On You? <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I sat perplexed within the cozy folds of my blanket, wondering how hard it was to actually not trust someone from the core of you heart and not build any walls around you. I casually flirted with my thoughts, as they bluntly reminded me how I was obsessed with trusting people. I never really mean to do so.. Every time I meet someone new, I recall my past mistakes and swear on my life that I wouldn't fall into the traps of trusting someone again. But that thought passes, eventually, and I trust.. AGAIN.<br />
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I've been betrayed to a level where people expected me to turn into a cold hearted grump, assuring me that they'd be there for me even though I'd start building the strongest walls around me. But I think I kind of surprised them.. and myself.. because I just couldn't NOT trust the next person who walked into my life.</div>
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Instances like these make me introspect all the time. I curse myself for being so naive, for letting people in without a second thought, for allowing myself to be swept away by the kindest words and later realizing the harsh side of that particular individual. But then I also give myself the benefit of doubt when I think of how strong headed I can be, how bitter people don't affect me after a point of time, how I pick myself up even after the darkest of storms and jump onto a rainbow to follow the path I think I deserve.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfnuO2Ty5nmKuP0qGnRUcTLkayDwhOwapQTFMXpqa1fSiP7UmX2bMFxkNss2UDBjx68_A__It1c_i-Y7KwPcr7SylBCe7A4egE8hCVP0tFKpye4Dk8lhzkSVaPmT1JPsCEU7PNs4kWq_w/s1600/quote2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfnuO2Ty5nmKuP0qGnRUcTLkayDwhOwapQTFMXpqa1fSiP7UmX2bMFxkNss2UDBjx68_A__It1c_i-Y7KwPcr7SylBCe7A4egE8hCVP0tFKpye4Dk8lhzkSVaPmT1JPsCEU7PNs4kWq_w/s320/quote2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I'm like a Nicholas Sparks novel - I believe too much, love too much, give too much, fear too much and think too much but in the end, things may or may not turn out how I want them to be. I don't require people to cover me like a blanket, I just expect them to be like the SOUND of a crackling fire on a harsh winter day - reassuring. Which basically means, I don't like being entirely dependent, just the thought of knowing that I have those particular people who will protect me, is enough for me. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpOamRx0gcRvI-P1r1DN4itxpTkQ4ZQ8-DFkuzlX4-d8HRJB38Sg9dlMzfDIKVvXw9wM_yirr0k4b3bnkDKSZCEPObm1wpqszFGYw0LZQf3E56kJkGS2v77p32TcBqCBXfpRWjRLac4PA/s1600/iStock_000005012679XSmall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpOamRx0gcRvI-P1r1DN4itxpTkQ4ZQ8-DFkuzlX4-d8HRJB38Sg9dlMzfDIKVvXw9wM_yirr0k4b3bnkDKSZCEPObm1wpqszFGYw0LZQf3E56kJkGS2v77p32TcBqCBXfpRWjRLac4PA/s320/iStock_000005012679XSmall.jpg" width="320" /></a> Honestly, I have a strong need for affection, it's like the need for a drug, a very strong one. I can't imagine living my life in a place where I have no one to kiss my cheek everyday, hug me when I want to be alone and talk to me till the wee hours of the night.</div>
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I'm not particularly proud of this need, just blessed because I know that people who'd actually do this for me, do exist in this world. Again, reassurance - that's my way of living life. It's the force that pulls me up every time I fall down - reassurance about who I am, what I'm capable of, what I've achieved, what my goal is, who I have around me, and even who I don't have, because, well I don't need them and it's kind of reassuring to know that they're not within a close radius.</div>
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Okay. Enough venting.</div>
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SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-6334851517343879732013-07-08T08:20:00.000-07:002013-08-05T09:48:31.068-07:00You're Not Who/What You Think You Are.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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You might walk around like you own the city and fill the air with the sound of your teeth chattering gloriously about the latest piece of clothing in xyz store and who did what to whom, but that doesn't make you a genius. You might have a shot after shot of some disgusting tasting spirit and fall around the dance floor, shouting(singing) your favourite song, but that doesn't mean you're happy. You might rest your head against a pillow and switch your phone off, wanting to be away from the materialistic world, but that doesn't make you content. You might talk to everyone you know, discussing the latest dirt-filled words about someone who you despise for no reason at all, but that doesn't make you superior to others. Boys might fall at your feet and hold you like they'll never let you go, but thats just usually when they're drunk. You might snap at your friends for all the things they say and then apologize with words dug out of cupcakes and macaroons, but that doesn't make you a good friend. You might be there for your friend 24 x 7, but you also might pull her down just to tower over her, and that definitely doesn't make you loyal. You might walk with you chin up and head held high after a night of disasters, but that doesn't mean you're okay. You might flirt with him and text him all day, but that doesn't mean you love him. You might think you're the most popular girl walking the streets of your city, but that doesn't mean you're loved. You might have a million friends you forgive you for the mistakes you make, but that doesn't mean you're respected. You might think you're perfect with all your self made popularity and attention grabbing tactics, but you're as perfect as the Congress. You might cheat on your girlfriend and flirt around, but that doesn't make you macho, in fact it makes you downright disgusting. You might get a girl pregnant but you might also leave her the next day and that makes you a filthy coward. You might have a thousand friends who follow everything you do, but that might just mean you're intimidating.<br />
You might just feel like this is about you, but then again you might not.<br />
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life is quite uncertain, isn't it.<br />
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SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-58340908915550622882013-05-26T17:28:00.003-07:002013-08-05T09:49:36.408-07:00Till we meet again.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
SO this is it. 2 more exams and I'm done with my first year at University. This month has been the most depressing one, considering how juggling exams along with other responsibilities is a big big pain.<br />
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It sounds cliched every time, but I swear, time just flew by. It only seems as if yesterday I walked on the streets of this beautiful city, clueless and apprehensive. But truth be told, I can probably map out most of the city for you now, considering that my sense of direction may have increased just by a minor percentage. I really wish I'd done a lot more this year than just.. nothing really. I was too lazy to commit myself to any societies or volunteer or even blog for that matter. I spent hours exploring the city and just hanging out with people, which I feel was important too. The only thing I actually regret, is not studying enough the whole year but oh well, who is the queen of procrastination? Yeah, me. yadaaa yadaaa yadaa. As long as I pass with decent marks, this semester, all will be well. But next year, OH NEXT YEAR, i'm so ready to battle with time to fit in all the things Ive planned to do. So basically, I have to study from the beginning ( LOL I said that every year in school and no I never really did that), join all the societies I'd wanted to be a part of ( they have a HARRY POTTER society with a Triwizard Tournament and all, how cool is that? ), prepare myself for the big numeracy test (YUCK) for the Cardiff Award programme that I was lucky to be chosen for, build on my CV, spend less money (never happens. NEVER) and just be a lot more committed to the stuff that actually matters to me. Let's just accept it, clubbing and partying every second day, is not my thing. I mean, not all the time. Believe me, there's more to just partying in the UK, for all those who think otherwise. You have to be here to believe it.<br />
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Honestly,I couldn't have asked for a better first year. It feel like I've finally detached myself from the Delhi womb and trotted into the big, bad yet beautiful world. The past few months have been a roller coaster ride for me. I learnt to live without my family and unfortunately lost my grandfather who was the most special and important person in my life. I found myself being broken into a million little pieces coated with pain and humiliation and then fixed and iced with love and friendship. I learnt how people always leave and that you need to be true to yourself to be accepted by others, because people always talk. There were times when I just wanted to pack my bags up and run back home but luckily, I found some amazing people who turned every tear, every frown into a big, goofy smile. Controversies, drama and tears became quite a common phenomena. There were fights and make ups and lots and lots of love, all combined together. All I can say is, I learnt so much from every person I met here and for all those who gave me so much love everyday. You all are my home away from home and there's nothing I can say or do to thank you enough for being there all the time.<br />
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Anyway, NOW. I have THREE WHOLE MONTHS of SUMMMMER. Oh the Sun, how much I missed you, you big ball of fire. I don't care how hot it is back in Delhi, I need some vitamin D, really. So this is it, three months of home, my best friends,my bed, good, healthy food, laziness and NO responsibilities. Totally looking forward to every bit of it.<br />
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It's true, there's no place like home.<br />
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Here's a glimpse of 9 amazing months!<br />
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SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-82111486937357590372013-03-02T08:05:00.000-08:002013-08-05T09:50:55.597-07:00Holding On.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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He held her against her, trying to calm her down. Her overwhelming sobs filled the room like an eagle screaming on top of it's prey. There was anger in the hot tears that poured down her red cheeks and she struggled in the cocoon built around her by his arms. She was in two minds - a part of her wanted to run away, away from the pain, and the other? The other wanted to stay there, to listen to his calm soothing voice, whispering words of love in her ears. She hated herself for being so weak, for being so vulnerable and at that moment, she knew. She knew that she hated the fact that she couldn't hate him, at all. The only place left to escape from, was not the room, but the pain and the anger that had filled her enough to choke her. It wasn't easy. She shivered as a myriad of bitter memories gushed into her head, admonishing her heart of the past, making it difficult for her to do anything about the current situation.</div>
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There was a fierce battle going on between her heart and mind and neither was ready to give up. A battle so fierce, that it could pass for both the World Wars, combined. All she wanted to do was shut herself out, from everyone, lock herself up, run away, scream, shout... something.</div>
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Slowly, she looked up and gazed into his eyes, startled at their dampness. She froze for a moment, unable to say anything and reluctantly brushed her thumb against his wet cheeks. Magically, all the broken pieces coalesced, into something fragile, yet stronger than before. Ironic, I know. But only they knew what it meant. She held him close, hoping to let go of the tension that had drifted them apart for a few hours. It wasn't going to go away anytime soon, but she knew it would because every time, they came out stronger than before and every time, her heart overruled her mind.</div>
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Later that night, the room had a mysterious tranquility about it. One could here their occasional sniffs and rustle of her hair against his crisp shirt. She wanted to say so much, words that would break him, words that would stitch him up, but each time she tried opening her mouth, a voice told her to stop, to succumb to her vulnerability and to forgive, whole heartedly. For her, his love meant so much more that the mistakes he'd made. To her, he was her universe, her entire life.</div>
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Maybe, somethings aren't always perfect, maybe our mistakes are what stop us from being that perfect person we're so capable of being. But what's life without a handful of mistakes and buckets of pain?</div>
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Maybe if we learn to forgive a little more and love a little more, the walls that stop us from doing so will come crashing down, and before we know it, everything will make sense again. So love a lot, hate less, and accept you other half with everything you've got because they're worth more than just a handful of heartbreaking mistakes.</div>
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SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-84715347034552870402013-02-12T22:38:00.004-08:002013-08-05T09:51:58.667-07:00From Jan to Feb.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hi guys!<br />
For those of you who asked me to update my blog sooner than this, here's a biiiiiig apology! Im back in Cardiff, and university life doesn't really allow me to blog so frequently. In between all the lectures, tutorials and other stuff, I hardly ever get time to think and write down my thoughts. Like now. This is most definitely not my typical kind of post but hey, I'm still going to rant on about what I've been up to lately. And for all those of you who think Im always online on Facebook, SHH, Im not always facebooking you know, the tab is just always open :P<br />
Anyway.<br />
The first few days after coming to college were crazy. It took me 3 days to completely unpack because I, the semi-blonde that I am, thought that bringing all my summer clothes would be the best idea. But my room is TINY! and the cupboard can't accommodate my winter and summer clothes. As a result, my room is ALWAYS in a mess because I keep throwing clothes on the floor while fishing for clothes in my cupboard. Sighh. And then FOOD-biggest problem of living in a self catered accommodation. Thankfully, my mum insisted on packing a few eatables for the initial days so I didn't really have to cook. Kind of regretting bringing more clothes than food ( my best friend better not be reading this) but it's okay, Im managing well enough.<br />
I'm so happy to be back. Cardiff already feels like home. I have my homesick days but then, I asked for it :P I love college, I love my professors and tutors. They're so nice and welcoming. As long as you do all your work, they dont care about whatever the hell you do. And the support here is wonderful. They do everything to make sure you're understanding what they've been teaching, even if you email them 10 times a day, they reply with a solution. So I'm pretty happy with my decision.<br />
I get weekends+Fridays off, which is cool but then being a law student, I have tons of work piled up for the week and I procrastinate a lot which, sigh, I cant do anything about, anymore. I've given up.<br />
SO YEAH, whooop -di- do.<br />
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<b><u>ITS FEBRUARY.</u></b> God, how much I love this month.<br />
However, what I can't understand is why people are so ajfbjwef about Valentine's Day. I dont get how being single sucks so much. IT DOESN'T. Been there, done that. + where in the world does Valentine= mean a spouse/boyfriend/girlfriend, why can't we just dedicate one whole day to people we love from the bottom of our heart, even if it's our best friend? Seriously, being single doesn't stop you from celebrating love. I love this day of the month and the days before it. My heart literally melts when I see old people queuing up in shops to buy gifts for their spouses, it makes me believe in forever & when young people (punks/guys who look like they can't commit) have conversations with their friends about what to gift their girlfriend, and even when some people buy cards saying I love you, mum/dad. It makes me so happy to see so much love in this world. Being spiteful about a day that makes you want to believe in love is never really a solution to anything. Not saying that we shouldn't celebrate everyday like its V-day, but you get what I mean right ? Oh well, to each his own.<br />
Also, it's my birthday month and my birthday gets me all excited like a 5 year old. I swear, I can never grow up. It's going to be a low key one though, because I lost my grandpa (read : favourite-est person) this new year :( and I dont really want to celebrate anything right now. But life goes on, he taught me that and I'm going to definitely follow it.<br />
Then we have this event in college, called Go Global which represents the different countries and their people, studying here. So the Indian Society is putting up a little dance show and I'm going to performing on the 24th of this month! Im so pumped about it. Firstly because it's my first ever performance here and secondly, because I'm performing after like 6 months or so. I missed rehearsing as a team, coming up with steps, fighting over songs and all that, and voila- here we are again.<br />
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This sums about the last month and the current one. I had a good time back home. It felt amazing to be with the people I'd been missing like crazy over here. My friends and family made sure I was well fed and pampered before I came back here, haha. I'm also happy that I got to say goodbye to my nana and spend some quality time with him. Funny how things turn out. One day someone seems like the happiest,healthiest person and the next day, he's gone, just like that. I don't quite understand how this works but I wont dwell into it, either.<br />
I should probably go to bed now. Got a lecture in 3 hours and I haven't slept a wink. No, I wasn't studying THAT much. I had to watch Pretty Little Liars and woah, what an episode. This show never stops giving me goosebumps. Can't wait another weeeek!!<br />
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Hope you all have a good February!<br />
xxxx<br />
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SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-53542552380972497252012-12-22T10:35:00.001-08:002013-08-05T09:52:58.447-07:00& it all makes sense to me.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
When she first saw him, she couldn't help but smile. It wasn't like she felt an instant connection with him, but there was something about him that made her smile. Maybe the way he looked at her, or the way he stood, leaning against a table, with a half smile trying to bury away the awkwardness of the moment.<br />
She bumped into him a couple of days later. Their hands brushed in a hurried hello, as she struggled her way into the long waiting line. He stood a behind her, separated by a couple of chattering young girls, looking around, waiting for his turn. She turned and made small conversation with him, unsure of what to say to the person she'd met some days ago.<br />
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As days passed by, they got to know each other more. She enjoyed being in his company, waiting to see him each day. He opened up to her, spoke to her about everything under the sun. She was surprised at how she could forget all her sorrows just by having him next to her. Their instant bond surprised her, maybe because, he was so easy to talk to. She missed him when he was away, when he wasn't with her all the time. She missed his silly laugh and his ability to find something funny in every situation.<br />
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She was unsure of what to name their relationship, she never really knew. But for her, he was her own little world. When she was breaking, he stitched her up slowly ; when she was happy, he was the reason ; when she cried, he let her wet his sweatshirt ; when she was sick, he became the expert at medicine and when she wanted no one around her, she secretly hoped he'd come.<br />
She didn't know what was it about him, that made her go weak in her knees. Maybe it was his goofy smile and cheery nature, or his thoughtful&kind eyes, or maybe the love filled bear hug he gave her every time they met. His heart was in the right place, of that she was sure. He took care of her like no one ever did.<br />
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When she looks back and recollects her thoughts, she laughs. Laughs because with him she suddenly feels like a little girl all over again. The one who always has someone to make her laugh, who protects her and appreciates her, for whom she doesn't have to change her ways, and can be the same fun loving, hyper and happy girl , who once got lost a long time back.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii5n2P5VVA3x74ieT7qDhiFgM2DAFrnbFcAxrvjT4FvOTu-yiSFcnzDM10IThm18CYMA1MtxcplQkiU7PVmGezBufTCApfG-ralpLPNY6jEhTt2kOGjtwzsdpXIB6z5mcsteDS-gNFH0M/s1600/tumblr_m2xqymheq41r9ze3io1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii5n2P5VVA3x74ieT7qDhiFgM2DAFrnbFcAxrvjT4FvOTu-yiSFcnzDM10IThm18CYMA1MtxcplQkiU7PVmGezBufTCApfG-ralpLPNY6jEhTt2kOGjtwzsdpXIB6z5mcsteDS-gNFH0M/s320/tumblr_m2xqymheq41r9ze3io1_500.jpg" width="320" /></a>Now,she looks forward to each day, ready to face to world. She smiles because she wants to, because there's a small name behind it and because, the only emotion she feels now is happiness :)</div>
SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-22970574741184942182012-12-03T11:17:00.001-08:002013-08-05T09:54:22.156-07:00It's all okay.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's funny how the anxiousness of meeting new people tends to show them exactly how you are. But then those are the people you immediately click with, be yourself with, who don't judge you at all, maybe because they feel the same ; people who have your back 24x7, for whom time is just a number& friendship, a real deal ; people who you can call over at 4 am because you want someone to talk to or merely because you just need a laugh ; people who stitch you up when you're torn apart and people who become such an important part of your life, that days without them seem meaningless and empty.<br />
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As I sat on the window sill of my room at University, I started thinking about situations, people and things. I'd had a terrible couple of weeks. But I've still found a way to be happy amidst the emotional upheaval. From being torn apart to being sewn back together, the last couple of weeks made me stronger. It taught me how nothing is always perfect, how things that seem perfect tend to fool you at times and how people who you love and trust are not always the people who're gonna stand by you till the end. It taught me how getting too attached may not be the best idea and made me realize that trusting someone with your life is risky. But it didn't involve any negativity. The absurdity of the situation amused me, but it made me look for things that made me happy. That made me discover who I really am.<br />
College makes me happy. The feeling of being missed by everyone back home, the feeling of independence, the feeling of not being judged all the time and doing your own thing makes me happy. A good morning text from my mom, an " i miss you " from my best friends back in Delhi, random trips to the mall, spontaneous movie/dinner plans, 4 am meetings and deep talks with my favourite people here, make me realise how I can lead two different lives with different people and still be the same person.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj87WMrfl7QZM6OsUciaNTCqf1DjaCth3TjxMBnFY76fHlbCNzLngxxoK_-JExDSEPrTIt7OUpx9EkM_Ig0PWxeUrGI-wc2Q37yBTDnvZOCJjtWtsbatnKXap-LUTyaFTK1jheJ57YLYaU/s1600/tumblr_m1vcqiS0s91rpfn3vo1_1280.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj87WMrfl7QZM6OsUciaNTCqf1DjaCth3TjxMBnFY76fHlbCNzLngxxoK_-JExDSEPrTIt7OUpx9EkM_Ig0PWxeUrGI-wc2Q37yBTDnvZOCJjtWtsbatnKXap-LUTyaFTK1jheJ57YLYaU/s1600/tumblr_m1vcqiS0s91rpfn3vo1_1280.jpeg" /></a>When the sun sets here at 4 pm, an immediate feeling of fear rushes through my body. The fear of not having completed my work and not having done those odd jobs I was supposed to. But then I look at my watch and smile because I know I have a long way to go. That's life. A certain period comes when you feel helpless and dejected, but the hope and knowledge of having a long road ahead of you, full of opportunities, makes you realise that life is too short to be anything but happy :)</div>
SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-18105021116019084402012-09-16T04:19:00.002-07:002012-12-03T11:24:51.180-08:00Blog Award :D<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqQYk45hzfmQE7_eOfFrDkMz25HU1sPUOZw9GTTxegaWHtnkixtBKbBAlxIFzhDACBY5-LkhASontciB0NUgyyqe-Nxx5Nu68hyphenhyphenw74YMehg64IdSwGVSyUgR0zTw15KBi3XQHGcpOYGhI/s1600/versatile-award.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqQYk45hzfmQE7_eOfFrDkMz25HU1sPUOZw9GTTxegaWHtnkixtBKbBAlxIFzhDACBY5-LkhASontciB0NUgyyqe-Nxx5Nu68hyphenhyphenw74YMehg64IdSwGVSyUgR0zTw15KBi3XQHGcpOYGhI/s1600/versatile-award.png" /></a></div>
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THANK YOU <a href="http://imagination19.blogspot.in/2012/09/bagged-and-tagged.html"><b>Ajay Kontham</b></a> for nominating me for my very first blog award :) Im honoured and really pleased to have such generous and wonderful fellow bloggers and readers.</div>
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I recently read Ajay's Blog and absolutely LOVED what he'd blogged. So all you fellow bloggers and readers, make sure you take out time to have a look at his wonderful posts.</div>
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So I was told to follow certain rules once Ive been tagged for a particular award AND since these rules are prettttty cool, I dont mind following them :D</div>
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So the rules are :</div>
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<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Thank the person for nominating you for the award and provide a link back</li>
<li>State 7 random facts about yourself</li>
<li>Answer the questions asked by the tagger</li>
<li>Generate 10 random questions for the bloggers you nominated</li>
<li>Pass on the award and inform them</li>
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Im done with the<b> first rule.</b> Anywhoooo, THANK YOU AJAY :)</div>
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<b>#2 State 7 random facts about yourself</b></div>
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<li>Im crazy about dogs. My craziness about them, overrules any amount of teen love for celebrity heart throbs .</li>
<li>Im an animal lover and therefore, I'm a strict vegetarian even though im from a typical Punjabi family. </li>
<li>Im an extremely emotional person but I can hide my feelings easily. </li>
<li>Im dying to start studying as soon as I reach my University. Call me nerdy, but, I cant wait to open my law books</li>
<li>I love shopping. But im not brand conscious. I'd rather buy 10 pieces of clothes from some random market then spend that entire money on one t-shirt/dress/pair of shoes.</li>
<li>I take time to open up to people, but I feel Im pretty approachable as a person</li>
<li>I cannot resist cheesecake and tiramisu. No matter how full I am and no matter how fat I get. I can't not eat them :D</li>
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<b>#3 Answer the questions asked by the tagger</b></div>
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<b>- Your motto in life?</b></div>
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Dont think about the reasons why it won't happen and believe in the ONE reason why it will :)</div>
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-<b>Ideal person/Role model</b></div>
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<b> </b>My mom. The perfect example of a strong headed career woman and a wonderful mother/wife/daughter. My confidante, support, strength. The reason why I believe in myself.</div>
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-<b>What is the last thing you want to do?</b></div>
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Erm.. :P I dont know how specific this is. Say goodbye to everyone I love, I guess?</div>
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<b>-Where do you see yourself 10 years from now?</b></div>
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I see myself happy. No matter what Im doing, where I am. Just happy. and in love :)</div>
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<b>-What would be one thing you would like to change from your past? </b></div>
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Haha. Well, I wish a certain someone hadn't entered a certain "someone very special's" life. And I wish I could relive 2009 and amend all the mistakes I made.</div>
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<b>-What crazy idea is on your mind right now?</b></div>
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Well Im packing for college and was wondering if I could carry one suitcase with just my shoes in it. hehehe</div>
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<b>-What would you do if you were the last person on earth</b></div>
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I like being alone at times but not all the time. So I'd read a lot and dance a lot . And pray for some company :s</div>
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<b>-What do you value the most in your life?</b></div>
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<b>WHAT. </b>Umm, I'd value my education a lot. And the fact that I have such wonderful people who love me :D</div>
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<b>-Rate my blog on the scale of 10</b></div>
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<b>EIGHT <3</b></div>
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<b>-Review my blog, please.</b></div>
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Ajay, I think you're a wonderful writer. Your blog is realistic, fictional and to the point. It shows that you're a deep thinker. Your thoughts and stories are penned down beautifully. Keep writing :)</div>
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<b>#4 Generate 10 random questions for the blogger you nominated.</b></div>
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<li><b>What is one thing you absolutely love about yourself?</b></li>
<li><b>Do you think that our generation deserves the kind of bad mouthing it usually gets?</b></li>
<li><b>If you were Steve Jobs, what kind of Apple product, would you invent?</b></li>
<li><b>Imagine you're one of the survivors of Titanic. Describe your feelings</b></li>
<li><b>Does wearing short and revealing clothes prove that a girl has a low character?</b></li>
<li><b>What, according to you, is love?</b></li>
<li><b>You're a well known celebrity and it's your wedding day. Who do you choose to plan and manage your wedding and why? a) Jennifer Aniston b) Emma Watson c) Rihanna</b></li>
<li><b>Interpret my blog title-"Catch your angel before she falls"</b></li>
<li><b>Which is your favourite-est song to dance to?</b></li>
<li><b>What/Who angers you THE MOST?</b></li>
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<b>GOOD LUCK :P</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>#4 Pass on the award and inform them</b></div>
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<b><a href="http://ifeltthis.blogspot.in/">Muse-Ment</a></b></div>
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<a href="http://myartisinwords.blogspot.in/">The Soul Sanctuary</a></div>
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<a href="http://ilikebigbuttsandicannotlie.blogspot.in/">Hello There Machas and other Fisher women</a></div>
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<a href="http://peabee25.blogspot.in/">The Voice In My Head</a></div>
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Congratulations :D</div>
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SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-18114352295983582532012-05-05T11:21:00.000-07:002013-08-05T09:55:52.600-07:00Introspecting.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #666666;">What do you do when the person you love the most, hurts you and makes you feel as if whatever trust you built up on him/her was worthless? Its the worst feeling ever.<br />All the promises of a happily ever after seem non existant. Its like you just want to curl up into a ball and go into hibernation for the next 15 years of your life, and when you come out, you never want to see that person again. But then, like a magnet, LOVE, pulls your towards him/her. You feel that giving that person a second chance is not a big deal. As much as it kills you, you want that person right next to you. Their apology might seem meaningless, but youre willing to listen because youre not ready to let go. Youre willing to push back those memories right at the back of your mind, but youre not willing to throw them out. Because.. you cant. As much as you try, it stays. And of course it gives you a hard time. Its not paying you rent is it? Instead its like an irritating tenant who refuses to let you stay in peace. Its a constant reminder of the pain youve felt. Makes you angry , even months after you've said "its okay". Moving on is never an option. Youre obligated to live with it for the rest of your time with that person. And then, sensitive as we might be, we try not to let it destroy what we have with that person. The one, who no matter how many times hurts you, is impossible to let go of. To hurt, like they hurt you. These feelings wake you up in the middle of the night. Dont let you sleep at times. And just when youre all happy again- Here come the feelings that you thought you'd forgotten. Its like a constant cycle. Never stops, never goes away. The one feeling of hate ALWAYS stays. But sometimes, its not hate. Its just a broken heart and lots and lots of love. Because youre not as strong as you thought you were. OR maybe, the relationship is worth fighting for. Fighting with your feelings, fighting with your mind and believing that giving that person a second chance was worth every tear. And all of a sudden, you realise that the pain you feel when youre in love is meaningless because the happiness you feel is what counts. </span></h3>
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SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-89092466093243840092012-04-23T08:18:00.003-07:002012-04-25T08:42:52.300-07:00Blues.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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April 13th meant nothing to me. EVEN though my boards got over *indifferent shrug*. I still have to crack the big C-L-A-T, to decide which college Im going to ..<br />And once the I finish these entrances on the 20th of May, Im gonna be greeted by the ever so awaited (NOT ) board results.. So basically, Ive not been able to have REAL fun since the 1st of February because of the constant pressure of doing well. Well, not parental pressure, just my own What-if-i-fail pressure. Dum dee dah.<br />However, JUNE is one month im waiting desperately for. Im not entering my room unless its for sleeping or getting ready. Parties,movies, FOOD, and RISHIKESH bitches :D<br />SO its kind of crazy how EVERYONE packed their bags and rushed off to Goa as soon as they got over with their exams. So jealous -.- And now my news feed is spammed with pictures of the beach and all those people. And Im literally like, they know him? She knows her? They met in Goa? EVERYONE MET IN GOA? *sigh*<br />I wouldve gone too (sly smile) but then I kind of care about my college a bit more, since I REALLY NEED TO GET OUT OF DELHI NOW.<br />Gaah, I never realised how much I'd face this year. From exams, to college, to friends. EVERYTHING slapped me accross my face all together, oww. Give a girl a break please. Ive just been rushing to my law classes, cramming up stuff for my exams yet again, having serious talks with my Math and General Knowledge book as to how they shouldnt give me such a tough time and just accept me as I am. But OH NO, they HAVE to make me struggle dont they? i though i was done with math back in class 10th, but it came running after me -.-<br />Anyway, I should go get back to my books. I'd be back hopefully. Till then, everybody shout out.. LAWYERED B) kay bye.</h3>
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</div>SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-14953446414917616412012-04-09T06:22:00.003-07:002013-10-24T12:05:29.246-07:00My Bucket List<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: 100%;">My best friend and I had made a pact to share each other's Bucket Lists, or in other words, " Things to do before I die" list. We promised to complete one before college and even though it took me a long long time to jot down the points right from my head, here it is :D ( In no particualr order)</span><br />
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<ul>
<li>Make a change in the world and <b>help people/animals</b> by becoming a successful lawyer</li>
<li>Eat every flavour of <b>ice cream</b> ever invented</li>
<li>Get someone to <b>write a song </b>for me and actually mean it</li>
<li>Build a<b> home for the tortured and wandering stray animals</b></li>
<li>Live in <b>Paris</b></li>
<li>Re-buy my<b> granparent's old house</b> for them</li>
<li>Travel to <b>Venice, Rome, Hawaii and Australia</b> all in one year</li>
<li>Spend a night in a <b>haunted mansion</b></li>
<li>Own enough money to <b>improve the living conditions</b> of my country people</li>
<li><b>LEARN A ROUTINE FROM STEP UP</b></li>
<li>Own a beach house</li>
<li>Change people's lives. A <b>good change.</b></li>
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Yeah so I think I missed out on a lot but Ill add on as soon as I remember. </div>
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SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-66287931138588457162012-04-07T08:40:00.001-07:002012-04-08T09:05:34.289-07:00Daddy's Not So Little Girl. (3)<span >Please read Part 2 here </span> <a href="http://surabhix.blogspot.in/2012/04/daddys-not-so-little-girl-2.html#links" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; ">http://surabhix.blogspot.in/2012/04/daddys-not-so-little-girl-2.html#links</a><span > before continuinggg :)</span><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><span style="font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><span style="font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><span style="font-size: 100%; "> She clutched his hand and sobbed, wanting him to hug her, to make her sit on his lap just like he did when she was a little girl. She bawled and screamed, shaking him awake. " You were always so busy turning your little baby into a woman, but look what youve done, youve turned a woman back into a baby", whispered Lydia. Her tears ran dry as she lay against him, whispering her forgiveness for all those times she'd cursed him unknowingly for having taken away her beauty. She thanked him for being her friend, her guide, her first love and her idol. "There's no one like you Daddy, said Lydia as she slowly got and up and reached for the door.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><span style="font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><span style="font-size: 100%; ">The doctor asked her to go home and come back later. She drove calmly, her eyes blurred. As she reached home, she went straight to her father's room, basking in the comfort zone of the two people who had left her to be on her own.. an orphan. She curled up on the bed, wanting to hibernate, to go far away when her hand brushed against something under a pillow. She lifted the pillow and found an envelope addressed to her. Her hands shaking she tore it open and pulled out a letter. It read :</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><span style="font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><span style="font-size: 100%; ">My dear Lydia,</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><span style="font-size: 100%; ">Its been a while since Ive called you that. I was the one who chose your name when you were born and your mother readily agreed. It means Sunshine and you were our very own. When you came into this world, my life was forever changed. I became a home dad, wanting to hold you close and breath in your warm milky breath as you tumbled and rolled all over me, giggling and showing off your beautiful little smile. As you grew into a beautiful damsel, I got scared. Scared that one day, this daddy's little girl would become someone else's and i might lose my title of being your first love. But then your mother died and the whole world shut around me. I felt caged and helpless. My only support left me alone to look after you, to educate you and send you away on a white horse. She entrusted you to me, and I failed. I became sad and lonely and resorted to drinking and drugs. I knew I wasnt doing the right thing, but I lost all control. I hit you, and made you cry. Something so unforgivable that I will curse myself long after I leave this world. Last week, I went to the doctor, he told me I had destroyed my health and one day i might not wake up. So I decided to write this. I hope one day, you'll forgive me. I want you to know that I love you. I never wanted to see you sad. Your old dad apologises to his little girl.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><span style="font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><span style="font-size: 100%; ">Be safe. Show the world that you are strong, because that's what you really are. You're a miracle.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><span style="font-size: 100%; ">Love</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; ">Papa.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; ">Lydia broke into tears....</div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; ">The End.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; ">If most of you were expecting something else, Im sorry to disappoint. While writing this, I constantly kept my own parents in my mind. Our arguements and our playful fights and all this while I couldnt help thinking how impossible life would be without our own parents.</div><div><span >The joys of parents are a secret and so are their griefs and fears ; they cannot utter the one and nor will they utter the other.</span></div>SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-45517401234810321742012-04-06T22:56:00.004-07:002012-04-07T05:33:18.613-07:00Daddy's Not So Little Girl. (2)<div>Please read Part One <a href="http://surabhix.blogspot.in/2012/04/daddys-not-so-little-girl.html#links" style="font-size: 100%; ">http://surabhix.blogspot.in/2012/04/daddys-not-so-little-girl.html#links</a> if you havent read it as yet :) </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Lydia woke up to the sound of the lawn mower, squinting at the window as the sunlight poured into her spacious bedroom. As she yawned, she heard her name with a loud grunt. She wondered why her father was calling her at this time of the day. He usually left her to herself till he got back from the tea house that they owned. She pulled on her robe and flew down the stairs hoping that he hadn't found out about her being out last night. Timidly, she peeped into the garden and screamed.<div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">George, her father, was lying on his back, a stream of blood pouring out of his nose. She rushed towards him and shook him fiercely. She yelled for help but no one seemed to hear her. Her neighbours were long gone to the farms and Mrs.Turnhouse was off to her sister's place in NewEngland. " Wake up Papa, please wake up", cried Lydia. She felt helpless till she remembered someone at the bar mentioning a new hospital that had been inaugurated last week. It was 13 kilometres from her home. Leaving her father to the hands of God, she ran inside the house to get the car keys and some money. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">10 minutes later, she was struggling to lift him into the car. Her once slim and fit father, was now as heavy as 10 bags of stones. Sweat poured down her face along with tears of helplessness. She murmured consoling words to herself, her father would be okay obviously, he must have fainted due to the heat. She drove furiously, almost rashly, knowing that every minute, every second could kill or save her father. As she reached the hospital, she yelled for someone to help her lift her father out of the car. Nurses rushed towards the car and Lydia ran alongside till the reached the intensive care units. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">Overcome with stress, Lydia broke down as doctors rushed in and out of the room. She tried to understand their conversation as they spoke to the nurses but the sound was blurred by the fear of losing her father. She prayed hard, wishing that she had her mother with her at this moment, enveloping her in her arms and whispering calm words against her hair.</div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div>She sat in the waiting room, numb and lifeless.. <b> Drug overdose and kidney failure</b>, the doctors had said. </div><div><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">The nurses brought her tea and biscuits, they asked her if she wanted to see her father. Lydia didn't respond, she looked at them and down at the floor again. Her whole world had come to a standstill. Her head throbbed, the tears were long gone. She was a mixture of emotions but none showed on her scarred face. She slowly got up, indicating that she was ready to meet her dead father. To say goodbye. One of the nurses guided her towards the room where her lifeless father lay, as if he were sleeping and was oblivious of what was happening around him. She dragged her feet till the hospital bed, taking in the unwanted aroma of the million medicines and chemicals. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">She sat down at the edge of the white linen bed, staring at her father's face till tears finally escaped her eyes.</div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">To be continued..</div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div>SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-31209099328823708252012-04-06T21:46:00.003-07:002012-04-06T22:50:46.901-07:00Daddy's Not So Little Girl.2 a.m- She walked hurriedly towards the bus stop, hoping that she'd be lucky enough to reach home before her father woke up. She didn't want another night of bruises. Every time she snuck out of her home, an air of freedom surrounded her. Ironically, she felt comforted being amongst strangers, cheerful to talk to random people who took interest in her. Lydia wasn't weak, she wasn't afraid of her father either, she just wanted to protect him. She was worried about someone seeing her bleeding face and reporting to the police. She loved her father, of course she did. They had been best friends since her mother had died 12 years back. But then.. he fell prey to the evils of alcohol and drugs. He came home reeking of the cheapest drinks, almost as if he'd bathed in them. She wished he'd settle down with their widow neighbour, Mrs. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Turnstone</span>. She'd always been a mother figure to Lydia and as the rumours stated, her father and Mrs.<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Turnstone</span> had been lovers long before her parents got married.<div>She knew that her neighbour heard her cries of anguish. The agony she went through every time her father threw her across the floor for being too late. The sores on her legs and arms and the deep cuts on her face that slowly changed colours from red to blue to black. She tried to muffle her pain as well as she could but sometimes they came outas sobs, which made her father give her a dirty look and walk out of the room.</div><div><br /></div><div>2 30 am- Lydia carefully latched the door behind her and crept up the creaking staircase of her 2 storey house. She could hear the loud snores coming from her father's room as she walked up. She heaved a sigh of relief as she shut her bedroom door. Relief at not being tortured by her father for the first time in 3 weeks. She went to the dressing area and carefully examined her face. Tears of dread poured down her once radiant face. The cherry red cheeks were now a dirty shade of blue, her lips were swollen, and her eyes looked sad and helpless. How she wished that the girl who was once the most sought after in the village, would find someone who looked beyond her cuts and bruises . She wanted to escape, but she was stuck in an ugly <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">position</span>.. of leaving her father behind, afraid that he might succumb to the diseases caused by his cohesive alcoholism.</div><div><br /></div><div>To be continued..</div>SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-77175155697113030612012-04-02T05:20:00.002-07:002012-04-02T05:22:07.691-07:00First newspaper article :D Hindustan Times,2011.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_4ok3PbWEIh1qjFXzzV0fv3TOxj4ZzrhDbX7LnA4xMHoXpOhP4VF3_RtOOasBLkuml3-B0yehpL2KN58pAphqq9O5HjMGQUyCXEIetQ1qjsizrIjVXwVPZIBQqUUa8KGXtxXlsrkNRAM/s1600/aws.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 195px; height: 204px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_4ok3PbWEIh1qjFXzzV0fv3TOxj4ZzrhDbX7LnA4xMHoXpOhP4VF3_RtOOasBLkuml3-B0yehpL2KN58pAphqq9O5HjMGQUyCXEIetQ1qjsizrIjVXwVPZIBQqUUa8KGXtxXlsrkNRAM/s320/aws.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5726777588521148514" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Comic Sans MS"">While casteism , corruption and lack of civic sense constitute some of the evils in our society, I think the one evil that stands out is the status of women in India. Despite the fact that the right to work and education has increasingly been in the favour of women, ever prevalent instances of dowry killings and rape continue to make headlines.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Comic Sans MS""> Inspite of modernisation and the increasing role of women in all walks of life, instances of domestic violence have risen manifold over the years. Ironically ‘Lakshmi’ is killed for want of dowry. Sacrificed on the alter of honour and forced into sati. Rape, sexual harassment at work and the spurt in number of honour killings show that the ten headed demon still continues to suffocate and stifle the lives of women. How are women, teenage girls or even small girls supposed to live in a society considering the ever prevalent feeling of insecurity in their minds?<o:p></o:p></span></p>SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-65805132218943631092012-04-02T05:17:00.000-07:002012-04-02T05:19:02.123-07:00SOMETHING THAT LOOKS BETTER WILL SELL BETTER<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Owb_-p3lmqV-vd1iuliLmqvxCXTiC0a3b6K-Y587k4C26R-G1Pwd6Dtn95vK3hKi55UbRpqQHxkj3walvIL-zEww5F3D7ZEcxgZ9tI-dvxmDFSqBqySYo52VP9NCNcyukpavCYKy-EU/s1600/download.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Owb_-p3lmqV-vd1iuliLmqvxCXTiC0a3b6K-Y587k4C26R-G1Pwd6Dtn95vK3hKi55UbRpqQHxkj3walvIL-zEww5F3D7ZEcxgZ9tI-dvxmDFSqBqySYo52VP9NCNcyukpavCYKy-EU/s320/download.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5726776686462417826" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family:Arial">The hit Gossip Girls series star, Blair Waldorf, quoted ‘’whoever said money can’t buy happiness, doesn’t know where to shop’’. And to the million shopaholics in the world, she became an idol of worship. And whoever said something that looks better will sell better, is correct in every aspect. Who doesn’t drool and immediately fish out their credit cards with more or less no guilt of spending their own or parent’s hard earned money on a pair of shiny Jimmy Choos, A Cartier watch, or an expensive Gucci one piece. Non branded items bought from the roadside carrying fake brand names don’t go unnoticed either. If they’re in fashion they’re in your wardrobe, as simple as 123. People these days hardly look for quality. Mainly because dresses aren’t meant to be repeated and shoes aren’t meant to be worn again once they’ve been seen in public. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family:Arial">Fashion knows not of comfort. All that matters is the face you show to the world. Imagine walking through a street with names like Stella McCartney, Dior, and Ferragamo .Looking at mannequins covered with cashmere sweaters, scarves, LBDs and long pointy heels. Who wouldn’t sacrifice swiping their credit cards through the machines, only to own the best looking attires in town? Of course, only international brands do not attract the public’s eye. Fab India, Cottons and other Indian brands, too, have become a rage in the shopper’s world. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family:Arial">Neatly stitched dresses and perfectly fitting jeans, glossy shoes and attractive shirts, the adjectives are good enough to magnetize the million shoppers. Manufacturers are fully aware of the needs of a customer and make sure their produce is eye catching and irresistible. Human psychology is such that, someone who looks at a conspicuous product is bound to purchase it, not bothering about the purchase. And the benefiters are not only the customers but also the retailers who are able to earn big bucks by wooing customers simply by displaying dazzling designs. Budding fashion designers these days not only display bouts of passion in their work but also hint their monetary demands. Being a shopaholic myself, I know what kind of things catches a customer’s eye. One would undoubtedly choose something that is exquisite and fashionable in every aspect over something that causes a customer to think twice about buying it.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family:Arial">Moving away from retail therapy, gastronomy is the other area where the look of the product matters majorly. The advertisements of McDonald’s or Pizza Hut, Gelato or Hagen Daasz instantaneously catch the customer’s eye. They are all drool worthy and hence become credit worthy. No, the chain owners are not foolish to only focus on the look of their products. Customer satisfaction is their first and foremost priority and they make sure that the taste compliments the look of their product. <span class="apple-style-span">Advertising is the science of arresting the human intelligence long enough to get money from it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family:Arial">Apple owner Steve Jobs quoted,”</span></span><span class="body"><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: Arial; ">you can't just ask customers what they want and then try to give that to them. By the time you get it built, they'll want something new.</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: Arial; "> ‘’ Apple was declared a hit among all genres of people. With a sleek body and incredible features, it immediately attracted millions of those who are now proud Mac owners. Valuable products like laptops are not bought just by looking at its advertisements, but once tested; days and weeks are spent by customers to choose the correct and best design of the product. Maintaining the status quo is of great importance in the 21<sup>st</sup> century. Even if you can’t afford a product, you put in your heart and soul to shell out cash to compete with your next door Richie Rich neighbour who can’t stop talking about her endless trips overseas and the number of Prada shoes and bags she owns. An immediate adrenaline rushes through your veins, wanting to show that woman your worth. Credit card safely tucked in your wallet and the new slippers slipped into the freshly manicured feet of yours, you make that much needed shopping trip. Trial rooms stay empty as you swipe your cards after entering a store for barely 3 minutes and choosing the outfits that look the best. And the result is a happy you, happy salesmen, and a red-faced neighbour. Bliss, isn’t it? What more would a retail owner want than bundles of cash trying to push their way through the lockers , just because someone bought clothes worth 50,000 without even bothering to try them own or think twice about whether it would look good or not?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family:Arial">Fashion shows are a key tool to make designers collections accessible to its customer. Extravagant and expensive shows showcasing artistic and creative designs easily attract a lot consumer attention, whether the consumers view it live or on television.</span></span><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: Arial; "> Looks are temporary and don’t mirror what’s inside </span><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family:Arial">and it<span class="apple-style-span"> is amazing how complete is the delusion that beauty is goodness. As fashion comes and goes, and style remains of constant importance, it is very clear that something that looks better: read, in fashion: will sell better, undoubtedly. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family:Arial">Fashion is what you adopt when you don’t know who you are. And when people refuse to believe in their own sense of style, they follow the fashion news like hungry dogs hoping to fit in. THAT’S when the whole troop of elegant people walk through the fashion streets hoping to look good and buy something that looks good, calling to fame, the treasurer of the fashion industry </span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-ascii-font-family:Arial;mso-hansi-font-family: Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Arial;mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings">J</span></span><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family:Arial"><o:p></o:p></span></p>SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-28044102499232231242012-04-01T10:03:00.003-07:002012-04-01T10:16:50.457-07:00Smile your way through..<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKvvVrDU7oCR9zEiein_f_Z16QUoo0hoZQVpK2zXLnBDDPxv15JOsi7lKqzBg1es7eEEqZXi1dgY7vyQoY_dXsQqTFRMf0RlIq0csVlTVY1l7YSiRiTpu6xAN-ZwRgxr9yL0wmDxTFN_o/s1600/tumblr_m1du3eIxUK1qjm9bpo1_500.png" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKvvVrDU7oCR9zEiein_f_Z16QUoo0hoZQVpK2zXLnBDDPxv15JOsi7lKqzBg1es7eEEqZXi1dgY7vyQoY_dXsQqTFRMf0RlIq0csVlTVY1l7YSiRiTpu6xAN-ZwRgxr9yL0wmDxTFN_o/s320/tumblr_m1du3eIxUK1qjm9bpo1_500.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5726479668634881394" /></a><br /><br /><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">It's not easy. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">Smiling when you're close to tears? The mask of happiness you cover your face with when you just want to curl under the blankets of hibernation. Laughing along with people, even though youre secretly irritated about how everyone is so happy?</div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">Here's to all those:</div><div><ul><li><span >Who're heart broken, yet spend nights consoling their best friends</span></li><li><span >Who're failing miserably in a particular subject, yet are at their friend's doorstep to help him/her overcome their failures</span></li><li><span >Who're stuck amidst family issues and constant inter-parent fights, but manage to give "happy family" advices to those who show their sadness</span></li><li><span >Who've been used roughly, treated like a puppet and thrown away, but have managed to pick themselves up</span></li><li><span >Single moms and the single dads and their heartbreaking sacrifice for their children.</span></li></ul><div><span >Breaking down is easy.. The tough part is holding yourself together when the easy part is not an option at all.</span></div></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div>SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-18972649973445533542012-04-01T08:29:00.002-07:002012-04-01T08:30:36.849-07:00Mount Abu, 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj9yTG8Y8p6bNrTV6TEBqaxSXd9vbfjLWvuP7ElyLFHKGDpgiwU9rQeImrZK5mnZptO8Vjs3k8PT0VoeXGQzwypIYZoYjAqNrhmA-vxrt6ECZ1KnUCiC9dfCpMx2LtQBPIDquRpRCR1Hc/s1600/217768_10150205542939120_620304119_8257856_4719446_n.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj9yTG8Y8p6bNrTV6TEBqaxSXd9vbfjLWvuP7ElyLFHKGDpgiwU9rQeImrZK5mnZptO8Vjs3k8PT0VoeXGQzwypIYZoYjAqNrhmA-vxrt6ECZ1KnUCiC9dfCpMx2LtQBPIDquRpRCR1Hc/s320/217768_10150205542939120_620304119_8257856_4719446_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5726455079691349714" /></a><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">Mount Abu, 2011.- I love sunsets. They’re beautiful, and so peaceful. But that’s not the only reason why I love them. They’re a treat to the eyes of city people like me, who need to go to the mountains or a beach to watch the stunning colours of the amalgamation of the sun and the sky. </span><br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 0px !important; margin-bottom: 0px !important; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">Also, sunsets are a metaphor of hope. The rapid change of day and night offers hope to millions of hopeless people. Like after every hurricane comes a rainbow , after every sunset, comes a new day. The sun sets, taking with it, all the unwanted moments of the day, hinting us to start again</span>SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-75143865973820241472012-04-01T08:28:00.002-07:002012-04-01T08:29:06.486-07:00=)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiymgiJNxWXXvPKDuBUyVkVVPuiEi7_eHzfO9BPmHg-8QnFMvEDuvQfZb1b0wnxOL6okXGWbUk0AV5tDnIvNf1aiELjsqT57vsfglqjpmfON17KxR4DJeCs0-ZTx2_uXAXhw_DgL1mlBo/s1600/happiness%252Clove%252Csmile%252Cyou-2d6c32d49e76fdcf1703bdf1791e1190_h.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiymgiJNxWXXvPKDuBUyVkVVPuiEi7_eHzfO9BPmHg-8QnFMvEDuvQfZb1b0wnxOL6okXGWbUk0AV5tDnIvNf1aiELjsqT57vsfglqjpmfON17KxR4DJeCs0-ZTx2_uXAXhw_DgL1mlBo/s320/happiness%252Clove%252Csmile%252Cyou-2d6c32d49e76fdcf1703bdf1791e1190_h.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5726454721936982482" /></a><p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">People ask me what is happiness. I tell them, it’s a million things. And you? Youre the centre of it . Youre ecstasy, without whom I cant imagine life. Youre the power that pulls either side of my lips into a huge smile. Youre the force that makes me entire body shake with laughter when Im all low and depressed. That’s only the visible happiness. youre much more than that. You put my mind at ease. You make it stop thinking to much and act on something I should. You make my heart beat 18 to the dozen, making it moan. You give me a different kind of feeling in the stomach. A feeling of being complete and safe.</p><p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">YOU define happiness.</p>SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1466558812260627492.post-30909442532936347432012-04-01T08:26:00.000-07:002012-04-01T08:27:53.755-07:00One.<p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">They sat under the moonlight<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 0px !important; ">At the edge of the sea<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; ">Their fingers entwined <br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; ">Giving them momentous glee</p><p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">Her smile so contagious<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 0px !important; ">Almost over shone the moon <br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; ">Oblivious of the world<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; ">They know it’ll be over soon</p><p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">He whispers into her ears<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 0px !important; ">Words of love<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; ">She shows no sign of tears<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; ">her lips curve upwards</p><p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">They weave memories<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 0px !important; ">To be stored in their hearts<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; ">It’ll be long now<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; ">Its time to stay apart</p><p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">His face looks calm<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 0px !important; ">Inside he’s dying<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; ">He looks into her eyes<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; ">she’s no longer afraid of crying</p><p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">They make promises<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 0px !important; ">Of love faith and trust<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; ">Promises to never forget<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; ">Moments of passion and lust</p><p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">He holds her close<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 0px !important; ">Unable to let go<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; ">Of the girl he’s always loved<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; ">Inside out and from head to toe</p><p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">She clings to him<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 0px !important; ">Murmuring calming words<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; ">Hesitates to look at him<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; ">Everything seems blurred</p><p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">What is love she asks<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 0px !important; ">He smiles softly and turns<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; ">You , he whispers<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; ">When will you ever learn ?</p><p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">She bursts into peals of laughter<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 0px !important; ">As he ruffles her flowing hair<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; ">the next moment<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; ">He’s kissing away her tears with care</p><p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">Shoulder to shoulder<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 0px !important; ">They lay on the sand<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; ">Looking up at the moon<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; ">Watching it tease the land</p><p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">They talk of times <br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 0px !important; ">Of each stolen kiss<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; ">The days when it got too hard<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; ">Or when all they felt was pure bliss</p><p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">She reminds him of moments<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 0px !important; ">Which he refuses to accept<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; ">They laugh together <br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; ">Rolling in the depth</p><p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">Its time to go she says<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 0px !important; ">Not yet, not now<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; ">he feels his heart sinking<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; ">I need to make a vow</p><p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">I promise to love you forever<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 0px !important; ">He holds her hand and says<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; ">Everyday every minute<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; ">In every single way</p><p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">She looks down shyly<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 0px !important; ">Blushes with joy<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; ">Promising and vowing<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; ">To always love that boy</p><p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">They part ways that night<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 0px !important; ">Dreading the wake of the sun<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; ">No more closeness<br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; ">Yet they’ll always be one</p><p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><br /></p><p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><br /></p>SurabhiB.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10218872732197500050noreply@blogger.com2