<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222</id><updated>2009-02-21T00:48:27.853-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finding my identity</title><subtitle type='html'>My quest to find out who I am and what I can do. My thoughts, my ideas and my rants.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>30</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-3472278051598261906</id><published>2008-04-26T09:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T09:28:38.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New form of Cricket</title><content type='html'>I am not sure if I like IPL...the new form of cricket India is gearing towards. The thing is, cricket was the single most important thing that had united this country. No really, if you want to see unity in diversity, go watch a game of cricket...people from all regions, all religions would go berserk at an India cricket match. It was INDIA playing and not just 'team India'. And now we have mumbai kings, mohali lions or whatever...and am afraid that if this kind of cricket eventually takes over the one event where we all crawl out of our compartmental world of north and south, east and west or punjabis and madrasis and bengalis would be lost. I am not too much a fan of cricket...or for that matter any sports...any more, but I will miss India playing as one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-3472278051598261906?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/3472278051598261906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=3472278051598261906' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/3472278051598261906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/3472278051598261906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/04/new-form-of-cricket.html' title='New form of Cricket'/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-2254231307641197731</id><published>2008-03-21T19:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T19:29:54.228-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The elusive spring!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div id="1equ" class="ArwC7c ckChnd"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Its amazing how it is, that spring feels the same everywhere. Summer and winter might be vastly different but the spring air has the same feel and the same confusion to it, wherever you go.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Walking back from a client site today, I could taste the eagerness in the air. I realized how perfect this time is and how, unlike the extremes of summer or winter, this would pass by so quickly. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I was content just to wallow in the precious feel of the warm cold air on my face. I was contently warm in my coat yet the air had a chill to it as if to reassure me that it is not summer yet. Somehow it felt like nature was confused on what road to take yet - should it charge ahead and move towards summers or should it embrace winters just a while longer?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;For once, I was content in just walking. No thoughts in my head, no rush to catch the next bus or train, no furious planning away the rest of the day, why, not even a song haunted me and burdened my mind. It felt good to be so devoid of any feelings, staying in the moment and deriving such a simple pleasure. I felt light, unencumbered and a little like a child again. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It is the first time in my life that I embrace spring. I wait for it with open arms and my face turned towards the sun. Maybe for the first time am not afraid of daylight.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-2254231307641197731?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2254231307641197731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=2254231307641197731' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/2254231307641197731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/2254231307641197731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/03/elusive-spring.html' title='The elusive spring!'/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-5937544120283159638</id><published>2008-03-18T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T19:41:48.858-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Memories</title><content type='html'>I am a gatherer. I always have trouble throwing stuff away - old cards, old letters, old toys - anything. Maybe that's coz I want to live my life in the past? I don't know. it's not that I ever get to look at them, but it's a comfort to know that I can go back and touch memories. And then throwing things away seems so rash, so final. Once thrown I will never have them back will I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess relationships are like that too. And I am a gatherer there as well, it's hard for me to let go. Probably why I get kicked in teeth so often. Sometimes people get taken for granted because others know that they won't be left alone. I just threw away a relationship which died long ago. It felt like parting with a piece of myself, and it was sort of like burning a bridge - I know I will never get back what I gave up. The funny thing is, I knew long ago it would never be mine again, but doing the final acts is like lighting the funeral pyre - it's like saying goodbye forever and acknowledging that life's never going to be the same again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-5937544120283159638?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5937544120283159638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=5937544120283159638' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/5937544120283159638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/5937544120283159638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/03/memories.html' title='Memories'/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-2895371158629437832</id><published>2008-03-09T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T20:26:46.172-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Like many other who have read the novel "Gone with the wind", I too fell in love with Scarlett O'Hara. She was a hard to like character, marked by a selfishness that is unseemly in heroes. But still, I admired her as her character developed more and more as the novel progressed. The same was with Rhett Butler. People wonder how anyone could like a man as Rhett Butler was. But the fact is, the reason he was a hero was because regardless of his failings, which were many, he stood up and was willing to change himself for the sake of his children. A highly admirable trait, and something way more heroic than the qualities of a usual do gooder. For, it takes a lot of courage and gumption to change your very basic nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Armed with the desire to read more about this ungentlemanly hero, I decided to get "Rhett Butlers People" from the library. It was pretty hard to get hold of it too since the book was checked out the first couple of times I went in. Anyways, finally got hold of the book. The first couple chapters, as expected, were pretty boring. But that is usually a problem with longer english novels, it takes a while and lots of drivel to go through, before the book starts becoming interesting. I read through the book off and on over three weeks, it never gripped me enough to make me sit and read it or feel like knowing whats next. And unlike its prequel, this one left me totally unmoved - maybe because of the happy ending? Or I think mostly because I was so bored of Rhett being portrayed as such a good guy that I wondered what a woman like Scarlett saw in McCaig's Rhett? Now Mitchell's Rhett and Scarlett were made for each other, but this guy? I think not!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I started thinking, why do our heroes have to be good? Well, okay let me rephrase that. Why do our heroes have to be do gooders or nice inside people? Why can't we accept as our hero  a selfish, cynical, practical, shrewd, fearless man who transforms himself for better? Why did McCaig have to go and make Rhett nicer than the his holy highness? And with a traumatic childhood to boot! Didn't he realize how that takes away from his character?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world is full of people like Rhett...people who have all the 'villainous'  qualities and not  all are because of abusive pasts. We are all different kinds of people here, and we all have to make a life on this planet. The world is also full of people like Rhett, who are compelled to change themselves into someone better and more acceptable to society for some reason or the other - mostly love for someone. And those people, I find are way more interesting than the usual nice guy for they are more human and easier to believe. The good ones just make me wonder whats wrong. Oh well...am a cynic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-2895371158629437832?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2895371158629437832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=2895371158629437832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/2895371158629437832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/2895371158629437832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/03/like-many-other-who-have-read-novel.html' title=''/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-5980254762953223490</id><published>2007-11-12T20:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T20:12:30.964-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Second life</title><content type='html'>A friend of mine long back told me about this game called second life - the virtual world. Read about it on wikipedia and since the idea was enticing enough I decided to have a go at it and downloaded the software. Had enough free time in those days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The software loaded I made a new identity for myself and logged into the deeper make believe world. Putzed around for a while, chatted with a few people who were going through the training rounds as well and then in the end, once I logged out I uninstalled the software forever from my computer. One real life is hard enough to manage, I didn't want to start another even virtually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this thought has been nagging me for a while. Especially what with the reports of people actually making real money in the virtual world and second life having banks and exchange systems etc. - what drives people to start another life, what blurs the line between what's 'real' and what's 'unreal'? How can we get so caught up in the world of make believe? And how is it that we try to turn a virtual life to represent a close to real life - something we were running from in the first place!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example take many of those who closely follow soap operas or tv series and actually end up so involved in the lives of the characters that they forget that those characters are actually fiction. It takes the place of real flesh and blood people for them. Or the second life example, where it has actually developed on to be so close to the real world with the same kind of tensions and problems - so much so that now there is probably going to be a SEC like regulatory authority to control the monetary operations. So, how is it thatg those who invested themselves in this world of make believe, probably to escape from their real lives, actually let their sanctuary turn close to represent what they were running from? And if it is so like the world we live in, then do we really need a virtual existence? Have distances grown so much that we would actually prefer to live inside our own minds and interact through computer wires than head out and see the sun and smell the flowers?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Real life sucks big time, but it has it's rewards too. One thin is for sure, one life is more than enough for me, am  not heading out to get a second life any time soon. No sir!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-5980254762953223490?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5980254762953223490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=5980254762953223490' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/5980254762953223490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/5980254762953223490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/11/second-life.html' title='Second life'/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-278077685475456232</id><published>2007-11-11T20:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T20:29:07.914-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ashes &amp; Dust</title><content type='html'>When a person dies, there are ashes to remind you that they once existed. What remains when a relationship dies? How is it that you are just supposed to pick up the pieces and move on as if nothing was ever there. As if, just by saying the words we have banished it's very existence...and it will disappear forever. Did it ever exist then? Why is there no tangible evidence of it's presence...Why is there no blood, no gory remnants?  Tell me I didn't imagine it, tell me I wasn't just one of many, soon forgotten, not even left with a dusty old photograph to hold near your heart on cold winters evening and reminisce of when we were young and stupid? No not stupid, if only we were...it would never have ended. Sometimes being wise is the worst thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: Fare thee well Love - The Rankin Family&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-278077685475456232?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/278077685475456232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=278077685475456232' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/278077685475456232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/278077685475456232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/11/ashes-dust.html' title='Ashes &amp; Dust'/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-7216351217814384884</id><published>2007-11-11T20:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T20:21:34.982-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I will love you forever you say&lt;br /&gt;but some day soon&lt;br /&gt;you will forget my name&lt;br /&gt;just a distant memory&lt;br /&gt;that lingers by the day&lt;br /&gt;can't say I wasn't told&lt;br /&gt;the rules of the game&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to have loved and then lost&lt;br /&gt;I wonder why it hurts&lt;br /&gt;I once thought that the memories&lt;br /&gt;would carry me through&lt;br /&gt;but day after day&lt;br /&gt;it just gets worse&lt;br /&gt;I wonder when it will be&lt;br /&gt;that I won't ache for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will love you forever I say&lt;br /&gt;but some day I hope&lt;br /&gt;I will forget your name&lt;br /&gt;For I know what it is I need&lt;br /&gt;to move on with my life&lt;br /&gt;to find someone else&lt;br /&gt;to rekindle that flame&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-7216351217814384884?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/7216351217814384884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=7216351217814384884' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/7216351217814384884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/7216351217814384884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-will-love-you-forever-you-say-but.html' title=''/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-1835637873699687382</id><published>2007-11-05T18:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T18:26:47.727-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>The update to the soldier who lost 2 kids in a car crash while they were on their way to see him in the hospital...his third child died yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.ksat.com/news/14511279/detail.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if one person should deserve all that, again I wonder, if we call God our father and nature our mother...how can a parent be so cruel?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-1835637873699687382?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1835637873699687382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=1835637873699687382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/1835637873699687382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/1835637873699687382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/11/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-6547086967147962152</id><published>2007-11-04T20:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T20:40:39.961-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who would you blame?</title><content type='html'>So the first thing I saw in the papers* while sipping my coffee at work was... GAP, New Delhi and child labor. Reading through the news article, I was struck by how no one got any comments from the government on the whole issue. And am sure the government probably is not bothered by it anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Businesses have always been pro their own profit, which is how they get money and investors. Of late there have been noises about the social responsibilities of the businesses. But the true fact is that it is upto the law and the society to uphold that fragment of social responsibility and make sure that the businesses follow it. In the case of our country, sadly, the government is the one needing the most of governance and maybe some soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the whole tehelka ka tehelka, I guess everyone knows that the politicians in our country don't really give a damn. Those who talk with such nonchalance about children being butchered probably arent bothered by them being made to work in inhuman conditions. Unless of course the issue becomes big enough to threaten their position at the top. Then we might see some movement but only in the letter of the law, not the spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't really blame GAP either, or any other such company. If the government of the country does not give a damn, why should the company do so, when for it these kids are just faceless employees, mere machines to do their bidding. No, I think most of the blame should fall with the people of our nation. For am pretty sure that even after reading this story (or maybe watching it every 2 minutes on aaj tak) people will still buy GAP with pride, only wincing at the big bucks they pay for that merchandise. No one will give a second thought to the ruined childhood and broken dreams of so many innocents. Maybe that's what they talk about in economics. Too much of a resource makes us blind to it value. And that is what's been the problem with the Indian society. There are just too many of us that there is no value of a life or the sweetness it brings. I never could fathom how one could love their own child so much while being totally blind to the existence and misery of another's. The sad part is, I know that if I were to go back in that environment, in a few years I might just turn into those very people am talking about right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I wrote this a few days back but didn't realize that I sent it to draft instead of post!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-6547086967147962152?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/6547086967147962152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=6547086967147962152' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/6547086967147962152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/6547086967147962152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/11/who-would-you-blame.html' title='Who would you blame?'/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-2691225678165631275</id><published>2007-10-26T21:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T20:27:49.941-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The price of a life</title><content type='html'>I recently read a very interesting book. The book was about an ordinary mans legal battle against a big corporation (Proctor &amp;amp; Gamble in this case). I don't know how many know of TSS - Toxic Shock Syndrome - which is a very serious disease often contracted by menstruating women through use of tampons. If misdiagnosed or left uncontrolled, it can turn fatal in just a couple of days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In mid 70's P&amp;amp;G came out with a new brand of tampons 'rely'. The tampon industry had been around since the 40's and most of the market share belonged to Tampax. P&amp;amp;G, a late entry in the market decided to come out with something new and different in order to make a grab at the market share, and thus 'rely' was born. Rely's composition was different from that of the ordinary tampon of that time. And there in lay the problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tampon goes in a region where few things have the business of going. And in their haste to profit and grab a big chunk of the market, and in between aggressive advertising and free sample distribution, P&amp;amp;G kind of over looked that little fact. Couple of years later enough incidents of TSS started showing up to concern the heath authorities. Part of the problem was, it was a relatively new disease then. With symptoms like the flu, and with hardly any doctors knowing about it, women didn't get the treatment that they should have. And since most didn't know of TSS's connection to the tampon they were using they didn't discontinue the use of it even while sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the victims was a woman with two little children (her newest was just 6 months old then) who was using a tampon (rely) for the first time at the urging of her sister. 4 days into her period and she was dead. The book was written by her husbands lawyer on their case, and eventual victory, against P&amp;amp;G.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As any corporation would, P&amp;amp;G tried all it could to squash the case and the numerous other cases. They tried all legal (and otherwise) tactics possible to make it as hard as possible for the plaintiffs to carry on with the legal battle. Something they cant be blamed for, I mean everyone is in it to win, right? Whatever be their motive. They denied any prior knowledge of TSS and it's link to tampons (particularly their own brand), which the book states was a lie since the CDC &amp;amp; FDA had already expressed their own concerns about it, and not only that, but some of their own researchers and testers had done the same. What I found unforgiving was, however, their conntiued denial and their refusal to inform the public of the link. What I also find unforgivable was their 'buying' of researchers to prove the contrary all the while women were dying of TSS. In the end, P&amp;amp;G lost this case and had to pay punitive damages for the death of a woman (the book goes on to mention how big a victory that was since the jury in Iowa at that time didnt really consider the services provided by housewives of much monetary value).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what triggered this post then? Well, this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.cnn.com/2007/WORLD/asiapcf/10/23/pip.china.pollution/index.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all know of CSR - Corporate social responsibility. It is the 'in' thing in the corporate world these days. But really, what has changed over the decades? Business still think of themselves as first, putting bottom line before lives of many . That is human nature as well. It about 'numero uno'. Maybe the survival of the fittest has programmed us in a way that we are bound to think of ourselves at first, then of anyone else. But while going about our daily lives, our social values have incorporated enough of a sense of duty in us that we avoid the actions that we know would bring harm to others. Then how does a business entity eat away from that value instilled in us?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is a business anyways? It is not a faceless thing. It is not an entity in itself either. It is a group of people. It is you, if you have even a single share of that corporation. It is you, if you are a lender to that corporation, it is you, if you work for that corporation. A business is people. We people. Then how is it, that in our hunger to make sure that we reap the maximum benefit possible, that the share prices don't fall even by a cent, that there is profit quarter after quarter, we forget that in the end nothing is more valuable than life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know things are changing. Thanks to the media and tightening laws, companies are getting rewarded for their ethical acts. But with the corporate net being so widespread, confusing and global it is hard not to believe that more action is needed. Sitting here, it is easy for me to read and forget about those people in China. I mean, how do I care if they are dying? It is the responsibility of their own government and their own companies, not mine. I am in no way responsible for their heath and safety. But the fact is, in my own way I am. An article in businessweek or wall street journal in August exposed how lax, unsafe and environment unfriendly the corporations in china were. Those same corporations that supply to the companies that then sell their products here in the U.S.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So maybe every time I run after a huge bargain at Wal-mart or Target, maybe I am taking a week or a year off a man's life in some village in china. For all I know I might be taking a year of a child's life in a sweat shop somewhere in the world. If you ask me to be honest and say if I will stop doing that? I don't know. Right now, I know I can't. I don't go to walmart or target anymore (mostly coz they are no where near where I live). I can't because for one, I can't afford not to buy the cheapest right now, but the other reason is that it is not possible to totally avoid those things, such is the level of penetration in the market.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if people really care, it will be their job to ensure that humanity retains its meaning. No business will ever do that, for no business has a soul or a heart. It is the people who make it that have the heart, soul and the head. It is time that we start making use of all three.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-2691225678165631275?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2691225678165631275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=2691225678165631275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/2691225678165631275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/2691225678165631275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/10/price-of-life.html' title='The price of a life'/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-9068326380181465614</id><published>2007-10-26T21:45:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T20:29:24.203-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Creative license</title><content type='html'>http://www.cnn.com/2007/SHOWBIZ/TV/10/23/tv.sopranos.davidchase.ap/index.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what is it about a story that can tug people so much? I am one of those who likes to know the ending. Even if a novel sucks big time, I will skim through pages, I will skip chapters, but I like to know how it all ends. The mania over the Soprano's ending, yeah I remember that. Forum after forum discussing why they did what they did, and what they were trying to do. The mania over Harry Potter even. 7 books! People following through 7 books to see how Harry's life goes on. Does he live, does he die? What happens to good ole voldy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it amazing how we can get caught in make believe? I mean, its not like those are things that happen, it is someone elses imagination that we are so solemnly following. Why are we so obssessed with how the other person ends it? Why cant we use our own imagination to do it? If it were for me, maybe harry would have died. Ron and hermione wouldn't have ended together having babies. No, to me the happily ever after was too anticlimatic for such a dark series. It lacked imagination. But I do like the way they ended the Soprano's. Now I havent seen the series, and I don't know too much about it, just the outlines. But it seems apt that life goes on in the end. Maybe the viewers of the soap felt the same way I felt about the ending of the potter saga. I don't know. The thing is, the writer ended it in a way that one could imagine things happening whichever way they wanted them to. And maybe that is what stuck in people's craw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like happy endings. I love distrubing endings (Gone with the wind is the best example of that). But most of all, I think what most of us like the best is knowing how it ends. Maybe coz our lives are so uncertain on their own, we don't know whats happening the next moment, and this is our way of knowing 'something' even if it's about the lives of people who dont exist?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-9068326380181465614?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/9068326380181465614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=9068326380181465614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/9068326380181465614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/9068326380181465614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/10/creative-license.html' title='Creative license'/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-5677272439694029162</id><published>2007-10-26T21:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T21:42:15.084-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Guilty untill proven innocent?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;We are a complex social system. A highly complex social system based on myriad laws and rules established as civilization progressed. To live within those rules is what we know as civilized and to live outside them...well you are an outlaw. The concept of mass justice to an extent is fair enough. While, as per religion, everyone gets punished for their sins after life, the problem is that is like waiting for too long, and we need to punish people right here to ensure that they don't do any more wrong thing. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;But I have always been confused about how we decide what is right and what is wrong. WE all have moral standards, but the fact is that my moral standards and my standards for what should be doable are different from what your would be. We have somehow come to an agreement over what some really wrong things would be and thus have a legal system to punish those whom we think are in the wrong, like murderers, rapists, gangsters etc. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The question arises, how do we really know we are in the right? and what happens when someone innocent gets mistakenly punished?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/law/10/25/innocence.project/index.html" target="_blank" onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)"&gt;http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/law&lt;wbr&gt;/10/25/innocence.project/index&lt;wbr&gt;.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I can not imagine the anguish of this person. I can not imagine the anguish of so many other faceless and nameless men languishing in prisons across the world (now that am writing this TADA comes to mind). It is hard to imagine what a person might go through when they know they are innocent but the world is hell bent on proving them guilty. It is hard to imagine the helplessness &amp;amp; the feeling of betrayal. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;This question has always lingered in my mind. What if the world is plotting against you? What if tomorrow, everyone you know wants to prove that you are mentally unstable...it wouldn't be that hard if 20 people are keen on it. There are ways to do that, aren't there? How would you save yourself? How would you protect your individual right to have a normal and fulfilling life? Freedom, what does it mean anyway? Are we really free? No, freedom is restricted to what the society thinks free should be. Maybe we have given too much power to the society and are forgetting that a human being alone is also an entity in itself. Every system has loopholes, but some just have too big of a personal cost to the people concerned. &lt;script&gt;&lt;!-- D(["mb","\u003c/p\&gt;\n",0] ); D(["ce"]);  //--&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-5677272439694029162?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5677272439694029162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=5677272439694029162' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/5677272439694029162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/5677272439694029162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/10/guilty-untill-proven-innocent.html' title='Guilty untill proven innocent?'/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-5394652734188110730</id><published>2007-10-24T20:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T20:08:59.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No</title><content type='html'>They are getting old. It is one of those things that I just don't know how to deal with it, the idea that my parents are actually getting older. How can that be, when they are still my main strength? When I still lean on them like a babe too weak to walk at times, especially when life has given me a fine licking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at pictures, I still see them as young, vibrant people, but something peeks out now that shows how age is creeping up. Not the grey hair, dad has had those for as long as I remember and I wouldn't let him color it, he looks all the more dashing for it. Not the lines on their faces, they are lines of wisdom, of hard work and toil. It is something else. Something undefined, something that I guess can't be changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to imagine the wheel turning, and I guess after seeing all that my grandparents have gone through and are going through even today, it's scarier. Coz' I know soon it will be my parents turn. I wonder, how they felt when they saw their own parents go through the phases of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And maybe beyond all this is the fact that deep inside I don't want to grow up. Not yet. I still want to call papa when I am taking some major decision - like even choosing an insurance plan...yes am not kidding. I still feel clumsy and helpless when am buying something big like an expensive suit or a piece of furniture coz I want to know what they think about how it looks on me. Not just anyone else, I want their opinion. And then there are times when I just want to curl into a little ball, looking for that warmth and security of my parents arms and the shelter they provided me from the outside world. Yes, I guess am just not ready to grow up yet, so no they can't get older. I just won't agree to that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-5394652734188110730?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5394652734188110730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=5394652734188110730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/5394652734188110730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/5394652734188110730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/10/no.html' title='No'/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-7320286564697918380</id><published>2007-10-24T17:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T18:01:48.758-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A little harmless flirtation</title><content type='html'>I like people. I like watching them (not in a get-away-form-me-you-creepy-woman kind of a way), I like listening to them, I enjoy talking to them, I like the way their mind works. In short, I like people. And it shows, because I like to smile at people. Of course, my shyness and my own self consciousness of my abilities or rather a lack of certain necessary abilities makes me very very wary and hesitant of approaching others. Hence it takes me ages to make friends or rather acquaintances even.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a grocery store near my place. It's the place closest to mine more like a filler store for me. I go there anytime I need a couple of items, or small ticket stuff, or heavy stuff that I don't want to lug home from the cheaper store a little far away. Anyways, enough of boring you with the useless background. Let me get to the nitty and the gritty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So at this store is a sales clerk/checkout clerk. A really sweet guy of maybe my age or a little more. The guy has always been sweet to me- he gives me the sweetest smile every time I see him, and I have always, as I do with other people, smiled at him and made small talk. Today, for the first time I felt that maybe our conversation actually bordered on the line of being just a little flirty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started like this, I was looking at which checkout counter to go to, he spotted me, smiled, so I went to his counter (and before anyone says a word, the other counter was busy). I was looking for a particular product, a little chocolaty snack which is very appropriately named as 'devil square' and the store didn't seem to carry it. So I decided to ask him if they had it in the store. He asked his supervisor and turned out that they didn't even carry stuff by the company that made this product. And then it went on like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "that's okay, maybe it's good that you don't carry it!"&lt;br /&gt;Him: "I will try and see if I can get them to get it for you"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Oh, that would be great! Thanks!"&lt;br /&gt;Him "Maybe I will try one myself?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Yeah, you do that, it's really good!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it went. After I left the store I wondered if it would be considered flirting? And for some reason felt happy with that little exchange regardless of the category it fell in. For a person who knows hardly anyone in this strange city, even a little sweet conversation at the grocery store brightens the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-7320286564697918380?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/7320286564697918380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=7320286564697918380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/7320286564697918380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/7320286564697918380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/10/little-harmless-flirtation.html' title='A little harmless flirtation'/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-8291484265986192926</id><published>2007-10-22T17:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-22T17:26:20.699-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you exist?</title><content type='html'>http://www.ksat.com/news/14390162/detail.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I often find myself questioning why things happen. I long ago decided to deny the existence of God. I choose not to place my life in hands of an entity I don't even know exists. I refuse to be led around by some unknown, unseen force.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a child I realized that faith would be a crutch for me. I knew that in the end, whatever life threw at me, I had to deal with it alone. For while there are people who may travel with me on this journey called life, nobody else can experience what I do and no body else can fight my demons for me. So, I decided that instead of wasting my time, hoping for 'God' to answer my prayers, I would do my best to make sure I get everything I want. Mostly, I succeed. Anything that can be got with sweat and labor, I know I can get it. I have fought all odds to be where I am today. And no one else ever thought I would get here. It's bittersweet. To show people that I can do it, to amaze them, to surprise them and to be held in awe by them. And it is at times disheartening and maybe shameful to think how little they think of you and your powers, skill, determination and spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up I was a very vocal atheist. I have become a little mild over the years. Prudent, you would say. I still questioned the existence of God, but I started changing from an athiest to agnostic. Maybe there is something out there, something that controls the strings. Something that laughs at me, at all of us, while holding that ever elusive prize up in the air making us toll for it. And something that is cruel, so cruel to not deliver the promised goods even after making us bleed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's events like those (see the article) that make me question the mighty powers again. How can a God be so cruel? How can fate be such a...sadist. How can I worship something so twisted as being above my parents; something that has no heart and soul? And don't give me bull about Satan and karma and kismet. Isn't God supposed to be above all? Children grow up learning, and at times imitating the acts of their parents. I wish that if there is a supreme being, it would learn to be kinder to people, for how would we learn to be kind to each other if our Gods aren't?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-8291484265986192926?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/8291484265986192926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=8291484265986192926' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/8291484265986192926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/8291484265986192926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/10/do-you-exist.html' title='Do you exist?'/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-4613116125049284869</id><published>2007-10-20T23:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-20T23:42:53.247-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am not sure&lt;br /&gt;of how it's supposed to be&lt;br /&gt;Am I supposed to let you go?&lt;br /&gt;and pretend like it wasn't meant to be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's easy to love&lt;br /&gt;and easier to fall apart&lt;br /&gt;and what do I do now&lt;br /&gt;with the pieces of my heart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to be strong&lt;br /&gt;I said I won't cry&lt;br /&gt;I try not to beg&lt;br /&gt;Oh you don't know how hard I try&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's still a battle&lt;br /&gt;I lose no matter who wins&lt;br /&gt;Wish I'd never had you in my life&lt;br /&gt;maybe am atoning for past sins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So give me some answers&lt;br /&gt;tell me what to do&lt;br /&gt;make me fall out of love&lt;br /&gt;like you made me fall in love with you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-4613116125049284869?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4613116125049284869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=4613116125049284869' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/4613116125049284869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/4613116125049284869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-am-not-sure-of-how-its-supposed-to-be.html' title=''/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-3587991825072039856</id><published>2007-10-17T19:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T19:09:25.572-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Michael Buble - Home - Lyrics</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Another summer day&lt;br /&gt;Has come and gone away&lt;br /&gt;In Paris and Rome&lt;br /&gt;But I wanna go home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe surrounded by&lt;br /&gt;A million people I&lt;br /&gt;Still feel all alone&lt;br /&gt;I just wanna go home&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I miss you, you know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I’ve been keeping all the letters that I wrote to you&lt;br /&gt;They're each just a line or two&lt;br /&gt;'I’m fine baby, how are you?'&lt;br /&gt;Well I would send them but I know that it’s just not enough&lt;br /&gt;My words were cold and flat&lt;br /&gt;And you deserve more than that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another aeroplane&lt;br /&gt;Another sunny place&lt;br /&gt;I’m lucky I know&lt;br /&gt;But I’ve got to go home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me go home&lt;br /&gt;I’ve had my run&lt;br /&gt;Baby, I’m done&lt;br /&gt;I gotta go home&lt;br /&gt;Let me go home&lt;br /&gt;It will all be all right&lt;br /&gt;I’ll be home tonight&lt;br /&gt;I’m coming back home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here is the video I was talking about:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nxgcfAFAoFY"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nxgcfAFAoFY&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;        &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-3587991825072039856?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/3587991825072039856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=3587991825072039856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/3587991825072039856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/3587991825072039856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/10/michael-buble-home-lyrics.html' title='Michael Buble - Home - Lyrics'/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-856495092905639242</id><published>2007-10-17T18:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T19:03:09.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Home</title><content type='html'>Got my tickets in mail today. Am going hoooooooooooome :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's going to be a pretty short and a hectic trip. So much to do, so many people to meet, so much to eat and so little time. Well okay, a lot to do and a lot to eat anyways, I don't know enough people even back home to really have problems that way. The only sad part is, my time with my parents is cut short, but am planning to enjoy every moment of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a beautiful song called "home" by Michael Buble. Heard it on the Delilah show (yeah I admit, it is one of my fave shows, I love the music she plays) Heard it enough of times that I had to look it up. The lyrics were moving, especially since I am so far away from home. The video that I found (not the original) moved me to tears. (lyrics follow in the next post, with the link to the video...watch it at your own risk.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, while it is by choice that I have uprooted myself (in my case it wasn't that hard anyways, I knew it was either uproot or stay and wilt away), like everyone else, I sometimes yearn for home. I yearn for someone to speak my language with...for while I might be fluent enough in English, trying to speak 'Americanese' day after day frustrates me, it's like I am playing a role all the time. And I yearn for my moms cooking, and the long discussions I would have with my dad over tea. I yearn for those trips to Delhi my parents would drag me to, just to get me to go out. I long to go to pizza hut with my friends so we could gossip and say how boring our little 'gaon' is. I yearn for someone to celebrate my successes with. I yearn to come home to someone after work, to have my mom keep food ready for me and ask me how my day was, and I could ask her in return on what happened in her school that day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And some days like these, when am sick, I yearn not to be alone, to have someone here who would give me a hug, who would make sure that the thermometer is placed right (jheebh ke neeche!!), would bring me my combiflame or crocin and make me nice ginger tea. Sounds selfish, now that I am typing it out. Since it's all about people doing things for me that I yearn for. But actually I wish there was someone I could do the same for too. Most of all, I think I miss my best friend...my mom. I know you would never read this, but I love you mom and I miss you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: Home by Michael Buble&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-856495092905639242?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/856495092905639242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=856495092905639242' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/856495092905639242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/856495092905639242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/10/got-my-tickets-in-mail-today.html' title='Home'/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-4814568630015701599</id><published>2007-10-16T19:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T19:19:57.759-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Clone it!</title><content type='html'>Something I have been thinking about for a while. The whole cloning issue, how it is in the murky waters of whats ethical and non ethical. And then the Pope urging Korea to give up the whole cloning project kind of brought this on as well. It made me think, is cloning really all that different from what human beings and maybe even nature has done so far?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean really, think about it, maybe centuries ago when the first wheel was built, someone must have felt how it is against nature, or even take the fire for instance. Feared by humans and animals; I am sure when the cavemen first made fire they weren't sure if what they were doing was right or not. Many of them must have gotten burnt, many of them might have spoiled their hard to catch food, many might have felt it was the wrath of the God's punishing them for doing something against destiny or mother nature had intended. But what if they had stopped doing it, where would we be today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, maybe it is how things are supposed to be. Maybe we are supposed to go ahead and clone and who knows when it might come in handy for the civilization. I haven't read too much into the whole debate off late, so I won't claim to be an expert on the topic, but I just feel that this issue is like a whole lot of other developments in the human society that have taken place over decades and centuries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't we all applaud when a life saving drug is discovered? How many are waiting for a cure to AIDS. How many want a cure to cancer. And it is not just those suffering from those diseases directly or indirectly. Aren't we playing God by curing people of those diseases. Heck, for that matter, aren't we playing God by practicing any kind of medicine? Let the blind remain blind, let the deaf not hear better. Don't save peoples lives in the emergency room, maybe they are just supposed to die that way? And why increase life expectancy so much (which would be another post for another day I guess), who says we are supposed to live 100 years or more, my ancestors probably were lucky to make it past 30's!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one should stop development. No religion, no political authority should have that right. For who would determine what's right for humanity and whats not? Who would say whats right by the God's and whats the work of Satan? Every step forward, every development has a dark side to be exploited, probably one of the harshest example was the atomic bomb. But then, it is in our hands as human beings to use the developments wisely. It should not be our option to stop taking steps forwards and to place a lid on discovery and invention.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-4814568630015701599?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4814568630015701599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=4814568630015701599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/4814568630015701599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/4814568630015701599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/10/something-i-have-been-thinking-about.html' title='Clone it!'/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-2208271307736051680</id><published>2007-10-16T18:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T19:05:06.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Are Americans Lazy?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"&gt;It is interesting to see that now that I have religiously started reading the news every day (what else can you expect me to do while I have nothing to do at work?), how many ideas I get for a blog post just by glancing at the headlines.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"&gt;I am not sure if it was CNN or businessweek (those were the only two I looked at today, but I swear I know their contents by heart – almost!), so as I was saying, am not sure which one it was, but one of them carried a headline which went like "are Americans lazy?" Now I didn't want to be caught reading that headline for the fear that someone in my office think am a scorning scoffing desi who thinks to much of herself and her own country and culture. So I didn't go on to read why they had that headline and what made them question the activity level of a regular American bloke/blokesses(?) &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"&gt;So since I do not know the contents of that news item, I would like to present my own views here on the topic. Now like any other desi, I had most of my views about this country based on the movies and tv shows that I saw, or the reports I read in the newspaper. Am sure you all know most of those have to do with the soap opera lives of people like Britney spears and all. NOW that I think back I don't know what made me believe in this big old myth as well, but after arriving here and trying to live like an American (and failing miserably at that mind you), I have concluded that Americans are one of the most hard working people I know. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"&gt;How can I say that, you ask? Aren't these the people who have a dishwasher to do their dishes? Aren't these the people who drive to the neighbourhood grocery store just to get a snickers bar? They put their laundry in a dryer not hang it to dry, they eat frozen food, have ready to bake cake mixes for crying out loud. Then why? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"&gt;Well I will tell you why. Anyone who has ever loaded the dishwasher would know that even that takes too much effort. You don't just eat and put the dishes in the dishwasher. Noooo, you rinse 'em first! and had my kitchen been big enough (its like a lil matchbox) I would probably have washed my dishes by hand rather than rinse them thoroughly and then do the complicated geometric and arithmetic of trying to fit all the dishes in and loading the stupid machine with full efficiency. And people thing Americans lack logic and sense!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"&gt;And the washing and drying? Well, it isn't as effortless as it seems either. If you live in one of those apartment complexes with a thousand and one people living there, you have to be quick on a Saturday morning to find the washer dryer! And it isn't fun incorporating the whole 2 hours it takes to get done with it into yr schedule. AND once you are done there comes the ironing! Oh joy! I miss my dhobi! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"&gt;Anyways, before I get side tracked by the list of my daily struggles with the systems and work burdens and basically growing up, I must return back to the main point here. As I was saying, you would think that the countless gadgets that they use probably make their work go poof, well it does not! And what I realized, much to my astonishment, was that not only do these people work hard, party harder and do everything in a way which even if not perfect is pretty darn good.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"&gt;They reach work early, even if it's a 2 hrs commute, and they look like they just stepped out of the salon (anyone who has been on a Chicago subway during rush hour would know that its almost like Delhi's EMU, except that no one is hanging for dear life OR pinching your butt or boobs). They go shopping after a full day of work, then maybe a dinner with friends, a play, a movie or something, and somewhere in between they find the time for an intense work out at the gym. I don't know when they just lie down for a while or go to sleep! There were times at college when I used to wonder if my room mate had slept for days. Not because she looked like a zombie, but because in between her sports, her studies, her parties and her baking for girl scouts or whatever, I never saw her head to bed! During exam days, she would be studying when I would head off to sleep and she was probably up and out of the house before I was! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I don't know if I would ever be able to juggle so many balls together without dropping a one. I have been trying and its very hard. I don't know how these people do it every day, but I have started admiring them for this talent that they possess. So Americans lazy? I think not!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-2208271307736051680?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2208271307736051680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=2208271307736051680' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/2208271307736051680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/2208271307736051680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/10/are-americans-lazy.html' title='Are Americans Lazy?'/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-5062374869036109775</id><published>2007-10-12T22:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T23:11:54.815-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>One of my favourite Ghazals by Ghalib, sung beautifully by Jagjit Singh:&lt;br /&gt;(just the verses that bowl me over)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bazeecha-e-atfal hai duniya mere aage&lt;br /&gt;hota hai shabo roz tamasha mere aage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hota hai nihan gard main sehra mere hote&lt;br /&gt;ghista hai jabeen khaakh pe dariya mere aage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mat poochh ke kya haal hai mera tere peechhe&lt;br /&gt;tu dekh ke kya rang hai tera mere aage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eeman mujhe roke hai jo kheeche hain mujhe kufr&lt;br /&gt;kaaba mere peechhe hai, kalisa mere aage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gohaath ko jumbish nahi, aankhon main to dum hai&lt;br /&gt;rehne do abhi saaghro meena mere aage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ghazal at first glance drips of arrogance, but Jagjit Singh's voice carries through the pain of the spurned, or so it seems to me. Of course the beauty of poetry and art is that you can take it to mean whatever you want :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-5062374869036109775?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5062374869036109775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=5062374869036109775' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/5062374869036109775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/5062374869036109775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/10/one-of-my-favourite-ghazals-by-ghalib.html' title=''/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-9192726819522067708</id><published>2007-10-12T22:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T22:42:54.221-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;What makes a person decide to shift their world around and leave their comfort zone just to try to establish their roots down in a foreign land? And what if they never can achieve that dream; that dream of finding that place they can call home again. That dream of finding acceptance,  comfort and warmth in their hearts, even when it is snowing outside? &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I don’t have the answer to these questions. But a year ago, I too took this step. I left my home to find a new one in a new country. Why did I do that? Circumstances. I knew there was no choice but to step out and face the world head on. And I also knew that there was no way I could do that in the comfort of the little bubble world of my own I was living in. And maybe because to an extent, I wanted a new chance, a shot at freedom, anonymity and a chance to establish myself again. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But, at what price will I gain all that? And sometimes I find myself questioning if I am willing to pay that price. As I type this post alone in my home, in a city where I hardly 'know' anyone, I wonder will my freedom still mean the same after days, months and maybe even years of loneliness. Maybe it would, maybe life will get better. I know it will get better, it has to, it always does. But days like these I find myself questioning my own decisions and wishing if only life was a little easier at times. Because sometimes the hurt is just too much to bear.&lt;/p&gt;Music: Hazaaron khwahishen aisi: Jagjit Singh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-9192726819522067708?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/9192726819522067708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=9192726819522067708' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/9192726819522067708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/9192726819522067708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/10/what-makes-person-decide-to-shift-their.html' title=''/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-5957708257794414336</id><published>2007-10-10T16:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T18:27:04.527-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whos decision is it anyway?</title><content type='html'>I was reading an article on CNN yesterday. I would link it, but I can't find it. It is not one of those things that makes first page news, maybe for the good. But it was something that I have wondered about now and then. So, the news was about this mom who wanted to have her daughter's uterus removed, so the girl would not suffer from menstruation and related problems. The child in question is a 15 year old suffering from Cerebral Palsy. The mother claims that removing the uterus would be a good idea because the girl is under immense discomfort due to the monthly cycle, and does not even understand well what happens. I remember a quote from the mother, she said that the only thing her child understands is " I am in pain". This decision however has been opposed by many charities for the disabled, who claim that it there is no need to take such a big step, and that the discomfort posed by the periods is probably not that intense to make the girl go through the trauma of surgery and such a life altering step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I should mention this right away that I do not know much about cerebral palsy. I tried to do some research on wiki and google, but due to lack of time as well, I didn't immerse myself in finding a lot about it. Also, the article did not mention how intense the disease was in this particular case (since I do not remember the names of the people involved, I guess I will have to keep referring to them as the child/girl and the mom...perhaps it Is better this way, since taking names could be sticky).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first reaction on reading the article was some anger at the charities/non profit organizations. The reaction still is one of mild anger, but I am trying to see the other side of the story as well. Always when it comes to disabled people and when I hear non involved parties making noises I always think, what do they know about living with such people and caring about them? I cannot imagine the anguish that that child suffers. I cannot imagine the pain the parent goes through, dealing with the issues of a serious illness or disability in their child every day. And then comes another major fight every month in form of unwelcome bleeding, cramps, pain, discomfort. Does the child really need to go through this? Would this child ever make use of this function of the woman's body? Will she ever bear children? If her disease is serious enough, maybe not...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So who are those naysayers kidding? Why make an issue over this? And if you are so insistent on your views, maybe you should volunteer to take care of the kid yourself. Shouldn't, in such cases, within limit of reason (and that is where the subjective part starts) be caregivers allowed to make such decisions? If the mother has taken care of her child well within her means for the past 15 years, then surely she would not be thinking of hurting/abusing her child this way in this one thing would she? And who really are these people who are making the objections? Have they been through what this mother and child have gone through?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who makes the decision of who will be on such a charity's board? Maybe it should be people who have faced some disabilities in their life, so they know how the medicine tastes. Some times it takes a little going through things to put life into perspective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not saying there is no other side to this story. If caregivers are given free rein on what they can do and what they can, an sure many people would come up with really horrid things that they could do to their charges. Human nature never ceases to horrify. But then, every power has been abused, and you never know what is going on behind close doors anyways do you? Some times before standing on our moral and ethical soapbox, it would be better to try thinking of the situation from the other person's side. Still saying I could deal with it would be lots easier than dealing with it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-5957708257794414336?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5957708257794414336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=5957708257794414336' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/5957708257794414336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/5957708257794414336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-was-reading-article-on-cnn-yesterday.html' title='Whos decision is it anyway?'/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-8016104400490773418</id><published>2007-10-05T21:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T18:26:23.305-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, I haven't posted in a long time. Like I feared I am kind of irregular, if I can even keep up with this habit. But a lot has happened in the last month or so, many times I started documenting those events, my feelings, but three unfinished documents lie in my folder...the trait of an aries. Start things off but never see them through!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this week I made my foray into the corporate world. My first real job at the age of 24! Amazing. Scary. I would say emotional, but am not really an emotional person in this sense, it is something that has to get done. I guess i would still take a picture of my first pay stub for memory. Am foolish that way. But sometimes I wonder if life's practicalities and negativities take away from the magic of these big and small moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The constraints I have faced so far cast a shadow in my life every now and then, and sometimes I feel like am losing my 'never say die' spirit and I get so negative and cribby. That was what happened on the second day of my work. The first day was amazing, I guess I was so nervous but happy that I didn't blow it somehow. The second day was a reminder of who I still am and maybe always will be. But the days ahead have also been a reminder of who I am and always will be, and that is a fighter. Of course, I would never have been able to do it alone, it is only because of the support that I have from so many people in my life that I gain my perspective back in life. I wonder if that means, that my quest for independence is just a sham? For if I am to depend on others everytime my life lets me down, then am not truly independent am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So getting back to my work life...I have learned that I need 8-9 hrs sleep a day. Yep, always was a lazy bum. As usual I hate getting up at 7 am to go to work, and I know sooner I will have to be up at 5 or 6, but I think by the first few hours at work, it doesnt matter. I love having a cublicle, a laptop to work on and my own phone line!!!! I know I know, how peasant like to gush over such stuff, but why not? It's small things that make life fun isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, done with a week of training, am wondering what Monday will bring forth. Got some prelim work to get through with, so that's good. I hate the thought of sitting in the office with nothing to do. for some reason I like to be swamped with work. Then I can retreat inside my head and even have convos with the voices inside my head without worrying about what would be thought of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, in a nutshell, life is moving on now. I guess it will move on faster. That's good. Crazy as it sounds, I hope that the years fast forward ahead. I can't wait for a time to get some kind of stability and know what way am heading at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: O Saathi re - Omkara&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-8016104400490773418?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/8016104400490773418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=8016104400490773418' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/8016104400490773418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/8016104400490773418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/10/well-i-havent-posted-in-long-time.html' title=''/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1028233751289061222.post-1954795699582715734</id><published>2007-09-02T17:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-02T17:43:07.451-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We move in packs</title><content type='html'>One thing, that often strikes me while moving about is how hard it is to be alone. I have never much rued my status as a singleton. Not even on valentine's day when thanks to all the media it seems like a crime to not be in a relationship. But in my one week in this new place, I have started feeling that being alone and friendless can be such a pain. Man has always been a social animal, but it seems to me that our societies over the years have been molded in a way that a person without any other social attachment is sort of like an outcaste. The funniest example of this is going to the movies. I wonder why it is a custom to go to the movies with someone rather than going alone? I mean, really, you can't talk in between the movie (and shame on you if you do!). You just sit there for hours watching the movie while your companion does the same. Then why is it that people hesitate going out to catch a flick on their own? It is hard to eat in restaurants all by yourself as well. Most often, a person catching a meal alone is on the receiving end of many other patrons pity. Similarly, it is not fun to go out to catch a ball game all by yourself either. I mean who will YOU cheer with, even though the whole stadium is cheering with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I myself admit to bowing down to most of these customs myself. I usually bring food home and eat it with my TV for company rather than sit alone outside for the world to see. I wanted to catch a few games at the university, but lack the courage to face the stadium all alone in the alumni section. I gaze longingly after people on sidewalks, walking hand in hand with their significant others or their children, or just walking and talking and having fun with their friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have sometimes felt a little different from others, but I guess I have never felt this alone, and life in the metro is just starting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1028233751289061222-1954795699582715734?l=justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1954795699582715734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1028233751289061222&amp;postID=1954795699582715734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/1954795699582715734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1028233751289061222/posts/default/1954795699582715734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justmyjumbledthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/09/we-move-in-herds.html' title='We move in packs'/><author><name>Finding My Identity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13287644276123306263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17036967150266458271'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>